Love Lines

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I'm gonna try and force myself to write more fluff and/or smut here! Soo ooo, imma start by posting something i wrote for @bk way back in uhhh, 2018 about her OCs Kana and Toshio.
This is mostly for comparisons sake. if/when i write more, i can use this to see if i've improved or not.

Spoiler

Kana loved Toshio's stupid mouth. he was such a smartass sometimes, and that irritatingly polite way he said everything made her feel so stupid sometimes. but god when he used it on her...
she remembers they were in the changing room once. she couldn't even remember what had led up to it, if they had been flirting beforehand or if one of them was intentionally being being especially irritating. All she remembers was him marching after her into the employee's changing room and "kabedon'd her ass". he came in right after her, but got in front of her and slammed his hands on the door behind her. she knows she had a big ol' grin on her face the entire time too.
he pressed up against her, a fast and fleeting kiss that got quicker and more needy, like a man who was trying to keep himself from indulging but couldn't resist. her arms went around his neck and she pulled him closer to her, her lips moving from his to his chin, his jaw, his ear.
"touch me."
he shuddered and one hand gripped her arm a little harder. but he obliged. his fingers twiddled at the lace around her neckline, his gloved hand tracing circles against her neck. his other hand moved to her waist, slowly going up. he glanced at her.
"touch me."
his hand cupped her breast, thumb continuing to make small circles and began to feel her up. kana let out a whine of approval. the hand holding the back of her neck angled her head a little to the side as he kissed her neck, his teeth grazing against her skin. one of his legs was between her thighs, his hand rubbing her nipple. his kisses traced down her neck and to the exposed breast. now his hands had moved, one hand holding her by the waist and the other now between her legs. Kana's fingers were in his braid and she sighed as he worked.
Kana's eyes burst open in a moment of clarity. she scrambled to get one hand free from his -smooth, cool, nice vanilla chocolate colored - hair and fumbled behind her until she felt the door handle and managed to lock it. she couldn't stop a groan from escaping her. she couldn't help it, his fingers knew just where to rub her and the friction was starting to get to her. he glanced up at her and grinned.
"don't-"
he moved his hands off of her but before she could complain they were back on her hips and his head was between her legs, kissing and teasing her thighs. she held onto the doorknob for support as he lifted her legs onto his shoulders and they began sliding lower onto the floor.
"keep still," she hears him say. he doesn't know how difficult that is and she bites down on her knuckle to keep herself from making more noise and alerting their employees.
he pulls her panties down just enough and works his mouth against slick and swollen skin. she trembles and tries not to crush him between her, but can't help but buck against him and writhes, all the while trying to muffle calling out his name.
they're both panting and flushed when they're finished. her neck is sore, and without her saying a word those fingers are already massaging the kinks out for her. she nestles up into his arms and lets out a purr, content.

I am always open to criticisms or suggestions, and thank y'all for your time!

 

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Spoiler: Faile QTE

Garth heard him returning before he entered the Frost Hound. The damn wolf seemed to have an allergy towards the ground, preferring to hop from rooftop to rooftop. A slosh-ing noise as snow slid off of the roof and hit the ground was heard. Garth didn’t bother to look up and focused on cleaning his beer mugs.

Normally he kept one of the windows behind the bar open. Decades of living in the north had given Garth and his kin a thick overcoat, and the cool breeze kept him awake when the line between late night and early morning were blurred.

It also allowed Locke to enter without using the door.

Garth didn’t question why he took the most difficult — and is his humble opinion, dumbest — way to get anywhere. Roof hopping? Probably to keep people from following his tracks. Preferring windows as opposed to the perfectly serviceable doors? Fuck it, maybe it was an anxiety thing, Garth didn’t know and he was sensible enough not to ask. After all, he’d been a thief too, once upon a time.

He heard the creak of the windowsill, and Garth turned in time to see the monstrous lupine try and fail to get his massive shoulders through the tiny window. With the grace and dexterity of a drunken cat, Locke squeezed himself in, clattering against a row of beer mugs. Garth easily sidestepped him as he fell to the floor, snow falling off of his cloak. His hood fell away, revealing the face of Locke, his usual stoic demeanor having been fractured by his embarrassment. Before either of them could say anything, the mugs continued to rattle until a few fell off. Instead of trying to grab them like a normal human being, he pulled his cloak open like a bat and tried to grab them with his feet.

And somehow, it worked.

Garth snorted as he turned his attention back to the particularly stubborn spot on the bar he’d been failing to clean. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, Locke. Welcome back, by the way.”

Locke came and went as he pleased, sometimes leaving for long stretches of time, but he always managed to make the old wolf smile. He might be as affable as sandpaper, but something about him put Garth at ease. Maybe it was how he was always the first to offer help for nothing in return, or how you’d assume he wasn’t listening only for him to ask a poignant question or give the perfect advice you needed. Or maybe it was something simpler: he was quiet, he was helpful, he didn’t take up much space despite his size.

Even now, he’d put all the mugs back where they belonged, swept up the snow and mud he’d tracked in, and had taken out a rag to clean the mugs. No words. Just the crackling of the fire as the inn around them settled for the night.


They kept that up for a good hour until Garth finally felt stiff from sitting for so long. He began to stand up when a searing pain in his knee caused him to let out a hiss. He immediately sat down, his eyes shut tight with a death grip on his left side.

Locke watched him with one ear cocked. “Your knee flaring up again?”

“It’s the weather,” he said with a wave of his paw. “Nothing more.”

Silence stretched as Garth massaged his old wound. He didn’t look him in the eye, he could practically feel the young lupine’s cold eyes on him. He remembered being as young and as arrogant as his son, how he used to laugh and mock the old duds who retired from injuries like these. He supposed he should be grateful for the silence but it felt too much like pity for the old wolf.

“Would you—”

Garth looked up. “Hm?”

Locke’s mouth was agape as he stared at him. He opened and closed it a few times before he finally averted his eyes, his large paw hiding everything but his bushy eyebrows. “Nevermind.” he mumbled.

Garth tsk-ed. “Speak up lad. What did y’wanna ask?”

He fidgeted in his seat a bit more and tugged at his braids. Finally he said, “Would you like me to give you a massage?”

“...What?”

“A massage,” he said again. “Our parents, my brother and mine, they worked long hours and came back aching ‘n sore. I used to do it for my mom and it’d make her…” he looked down again.

Garth continued to stare. Was he coming onto him? That’s crazy though, Garth was no spring chicken, and anyway why would he want him? Locke was attractive, Garth was sure he could do better than him. Not that Garth that he was unattractive, but why the hell would he want Garth?

He shook his head. He needed to stop that, not everything was about sex. Besides, Locke was such an unflappable stone wall, never reacting to Cait or Lusamine’s advances, nor did he seem particularly fazed by June or Brint’s muscles, so why— ah shit, Locke’s got his hood up. Ah fuck the poor guy’s embarrassed.

“Nevermind.”

As he got up to leave Garth reflexively grabbed his wrist, surprising them both. “Hey… hey don’t go yet.”

Locke looked down at his hand around his wrist then slowly up at him. That damn hood must be enchanted, Garth couldn’t see a damn thing besides his snout.

“I was surprised, is all. If you wanna and you’re as good as you think you are, well, I won’t complain.”

Locke continued to stare(?) at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Garth could feel his heartbeat against his fingers and that was when it clicked what Locke was probably waiting for.

Garth finally released his grip on the lupine, turning Locke’s wrist over to check for marks; Garth’s grooming habits were never great, but he’d really let himself go since his wife had left, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally draw blood on possibly the most sensible person in Hawkthorne.

More than that though, he couldn’t help but be amazed at how white and soft Locke’s underfur was. Between all the travelling he’s done and the amount of refugees that’ve entered the town, soap was in short supply. All the lupine’s fur had gotten stiff from mud and snow, making all their coats duller than normal. Somehow though, Locke had some small part of him that was still clean, still warm and soft.

Without even thinking, Garth’s thumb had started to make a circular motion against his skin. His skin was flushed, his heartbeat fluttered. Beneath his fingers he felt Locke grow stiff and that got Garth out of the daze he was in. his hand shot away from him and he wiped it on his apron.

Without looking at him he said, “So are you gonna do it or what?”


Locke hesitated only for one more moment before he hopped over the bar in one smooth, silent motion. He really was a white shadow, huh. Garth shifted on his stool, as his old adventurer instincts yelled at him for allowing someone to get behind him.

But another part of him felt comforted. Having someone else take care of him for a change, someone strong to take the reins and take charge...yeah, that was hella familiar in all the best ways.

“So do I just … What do you need me to do?”

“First answer me this: do you want me to work just on your leg or would you also like me to do shoulders and arms?”

He rolled his shoulders experimentally then gave a shrug. “Probably wouldn’t hurt none.”

The next thing he felt was Locke’s hands on his shoulders and it took everything he had not to immediately lean into his touch. He closed his eyes and focused on how strong Locke’s hands were, the rumbling timbre of his voice as he explained how he was rubbing his shoulders to warm up his muscles and relax them.

“Maybe we shoulda closed the window then.” he joked.

Locke didn’t answer, but gave a small chuckle. His thumbs dug into his shoulders, honing in on the kinks with expertise Garth was unprepared for. They moved towards his spine in a repetitive movement with lighter touches farther away and digging deeper the closer he got. When he reached the center he’d move upwards and suddenly Garth’s shoulders were much colder as those giant hands went up to his neck. He moved it side to side as he moved up to where his head met his neck, enjoying the sound of his bones crack and pop inside of him.

He went back to his deltoids, rubbing with the palms of his hands then onto his back. “Let me know if I need to go harder to lighten up.”

Garth smiled. “I ain’t that weak, y’know.”

“It’s not about strength, Garth. Your body isn’t used to being worked like this—”

“Bull.”
“— Hasn’t been worked like this in a while,” he corrected. “It’s supposed to be enjoyable for you, and if it isn’t I need to know. Promise me you’ll tell me, Garth.”

He might’ve made some sorta noncommittal grunt, he wasn’t sure, all Garth could focus on was how smoothly his hands moved across him. When he pushed with the base of his wrist into one particularly stubborn knot, he felt himself melt into jelly, being happily pushed around by this strong man.

Then he began to pound into him, and any resistance Garth had left evaporated. He hadn’t realized how much tension he kept in his shoulders until the moment it had left. Just as a tingly feeling started to creep up on him, Locke gave him a light shove; when Garth fell back into him, he was met by Locke’s claws lightly grazing him and chasing away the itchies.

“Mmm…”

He wasn’t proud of it, but when he stopped Garth involuntarily let out a whine. He heard Locke’s heavy footsteps move in front of him and opened his eyes for the first time since he’d started. If he was embarrassed by the noise he made earlier, he definitely wasn’t proud at the heat he felt in his stomach at the sight of the shirtless lupine looking up at him from between his legs.

Locke’s hood was still up, his snout jutting up at him as he waited for his permission to continue. Garth shifted again in his stool as he leaned one arm against the bar as the other one reached down and pulled down Locke’s hood.

His ice blue eyes widened in surprise as Garth pulled his hand back — he wasn’t going to linger, dammit, he definitely didn’t mean to brush against one of his braids— and gave a shrug. “Seems a bit impersonal not to see your eyes, is all.”

Locke seemed to be looking everywhere except at him. The fur on his face kept Garth from seeing if he was blushing, but he could practically feel the heat radiating off of him and against his leg, gods dammit that’s not helping.

He shifted again. “Just get on with it already, will ya?”

Locke nodded and removed Garth’s left boot. Garth briefly wondered how much difference there’d be between a lupine leg and a human one before all thoughts left him as he started to press and rub his achilles tendon. A growl of pleasure escaped from him as he leaned back. He didn’t mean to jut his leg out, but he also didn’t mean for his tail to wag as hard as it was.

“You’re not gonna do anything gross with my toes, are you?”

Locke chuckled. “Not unless you want me to.”

“Oh gods no.”

He chuckled again, and the sound of it brought a smile to Garth’s face. He closed his eyes again.

Now only one hand was still working on his ankle the other started to work on his leg muscles. Gods, the way those claws trailed up and down, just barely grazing, his breath came out in little huffs at the idea of how easily Locke could hurt him but never would… he gently stroked his fur, always smoothing it down and gently pulling at the knots before moving upward.

“Now to the knee,” he whispered. “This’ll be a little different, I’ll have to bend it a bit.”

Another growl emanated from his chest as Garth spread his legs. Locke stood up and ran his legs up his thigh, giving Garth a jolt but he didn’t stop. His hands pressed against his flesh as it went higher and higher up to his hip, then clapped one hand to the inside of his thigh and the other on top, and slowly slid back down. Garth's breath grew ragged and reflexively clenched his fist as Locke repeated the motion.

“It’s to cause friction,” Locke explained.

Friction in my legs or in my pants? But like hell he’d say that aloud. Instead he nodded for him to continue. Garth continued to fidget, trying and failing to get comfortable on the stool while the younger lupine —strong, dangerous— hands circled around his knee like a vulture. One hand was holding it in place as the thumb made quicker and quicker circles against the side when the other hand snaked underneath. The next thing he knew, his leg was pushed against his ribcage and Locke’s eyes were all he could see and the smell of him filled him and chased out any other thought.

He shuddered at the feel of his cool breath against his ear as he mumbled, “The tension helps.”

Garth might’ve gasped, either from shock or from pain, he wasn’t sure. What he did know, however, was one minute he was desperately trying to get a grip on something behind him, when he slipped off of the stool. He saw Locke’s shocked expression and before Garth could his head he managed to grab his waist.

They stood there for a moment, both breathing hard, heartbeats pounding in their ears. Finally time seemed to move again. He looked down at his hand, clutching Locke’s bicep for dear life, and slowly released his grip. Locke let go of his knee and helped him get back on his feet, but he lingered on his waist until Garth cleared his throat.

“I think my knee’s feelin’ better now. Thanks.”

The thief nodded as he mumbled something and went up the stairs. Good. Maybe now Garth could slow his racing heart and deal with this issue he’d left him with.

 

[holdinglines]

Spoiler: Feral Kiyoko Meetup

You push aside the tent flap and crawl into your makeshift room for some well deserved rest. You wrap your threadbare blanket around your shoulders, curled tightly into a ball to keep the warmth as close as possible and close your eyes. The cold, hard ground beneath you seeps into your bones, but weariness and aches of the day’s hardships outweighs it and soon you find yourself drifting off…


You’re aware something has changed before you open your eyes. For one, it’s definitely warmer than it was when you fell asleep. You can feel sunlight warming your skin, your shoulders bare and the soft itchiness of grass beneath you. You take a deep breath as you stretch, and your eyes open with a jolt. The sun is high in the sky, and the sudden brightness compared to the late night darkness you were just in. Spots cloud your vision, and it takes a moment to get your bearings.

During that time, you take another breath. That was what brought you to wakefulness. It was unnaturally still, like a room with no doors or windows. It was musty too, almost oppressive, and for a moment you have a brief panic of claustrophobia despite being in a seemingly open field. Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but after spending time in the Frost Marches, surrounded by the crisp mountain air and the near constant frost that covered everything, the sudden change was… striking.

The hill gently sloped downwards towards a path of pink. As you get closer, you realize with a jolt they’re actually peach blossoms. Without thinking, you smile. You’ve travelled all over but have never had the pleasure of seeing them firsthand. You pull down one branch and marvel at the soft whitish-pink blossoms against the dark wood, and take a sniff. Despite your unease at your strange surroundings there’s a warm feeling of contentment settling in your stomach.

Yet something about your surroundings felt somewhat familiar despite never being anywhere remotely like here before. The last time you’d seen even a painting of peach blossoms would be…

The mural!

You let go of the branch and dash down the dirt path, flecks of dirt and rock flying in your haste. The more you take in the more you’re sure of it. You’re either inside the mural or suddenly wherever inspired it. At this point in your life, either one was a viable possibility.

Perhaps that’s why you felt so uneasy when you first appeared here. Why the air is so stale. You slow down, one hand on your chest as you slow catch your breath. The blood pounds in your ears as another thing is brought to your attention. There’s no sounds: no wind, no birds, and no people. You’re not entirely sure if you’re grateful or disappointed there is no foxy orgy happening, but the absence of any sort of noises left you unnerved.

Finally in more control of yourself, you once more take in your surroundings and try to map it out compared to your muddy memory of the mural. You continue through the peach arbor, the trees growing larger and closer together, and you dully not that they all look exactly the same.

At one point you climb one of the trees for a bird’s eye view. The branches scrape against your skin and it’s one of the first confirmations you’re definitely awake. Your head pops out and you shake some of the petals out of your hair as you notice a looming shadow over you.

You look up and do a double take. Ok, that gi-NORMOUS tree definitely wasn’t in the mural.

Though you’re no arborculturalist, even you can tell it’s not the same as the peach trees you’ve seen up till this point. You’re also pretty sure there wasn’t a… is that a cabin? It’s a house made of wood, so it’s gotta be...right? But still it didn’t… look like you’re used to. The only frame of reference you had for this design was from the mural, and with these new additions to this world, you don’t even know how reliable that is.

Despite that though, you can’t help but be impressed by it. From what you can see, the cabin (?) was built both in and around the tree, with rings and balconies built seamlessly into it. You crane your neck at those in particular, half expecting to see ropes leading from the trees to the balconies. You climb down from your perch and hop down. Finally, you had a destination in this strange, strange place.


The rustic wooden porch squeaks underneath you when you step upon it. The door ahead of you is a sliding door, and aside from the wooden frame seems to be made of paper. You stand there, one fist raised, unsure if you should knock and maybe break it or just walk straight in.

Um? Hello?

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t spoken since you’ve gotten here, but your voice sounds muffled in your ears.

The words had barely left your lips before you heard noises deeper inside the cabin. Then stomping as someone raced closer and closer. The door flies open and you immediately reach for your weapon, only to come up with nothing.

In front of you is a fox-woman with a wild, bewildered look, as if your very existence was a shock to her. You flex your hand, aching for something in them as your instincts alert you of danger. The woman cocks her head, the ears atop her head twitching. She had lovely, delicate features with beautiful fiery hair, but it was offset by the haphazard way her hair was done. Braids that were half done or pulled apart midway through, half up and half down with random parts sticking up. From the smudged makeup around her lips, she might’ve been asleep when you approached.

You clear your throat awkwardly when you realize you’ve been staring and hadn’t said a word this whole time. Before you could rectify that however the foxy lady’s face splits into an ear to ear grin, her bright green eyes misting over as she throws herself at you. You stumble and fall off of the porch, the lady’s warm body pressing against you as her many tails splayed around you. She looks up at you, a look of genuine happiness unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“I’ve waited so long. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”