#Extraction fan fiction

[chickensarentcheap]

I FOUND: THE MISSING PIECES

CHAPTER TWO

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Esme Drummond (OFC)

Summary: A collection of requested one and two shots that cover the CANON events mentioned in the original “I Found” story. It’s not a necessity to have read it, but it might help.

Author’s Note:

This is a companion piece to “I Found”. When I first wrote the story four years ago, I had every intention of including ‘flashback’ chapters that weaved Esme into the events of Extraction. Sadly, I lost my confidence at the time and ended the fic before I was one hundred percent ready to do so. Which I deeply regret. In the time that has passed, readers have requested both 'movie canon-centric’ pieces and those that cover events between Tyler and Esme that were merely mentioned.

Please keep in mind that the pieces are NOT in chronological order according to the movie timeline or Tyler and Esme’s persona timeline. Instead, they are written and posted in the order in which the readers submit their requests.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Love, Chickens

WARNINGS: SLIGHT SMUT, PROFANITY, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CHILD DEATH

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @watermeezer @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @kmc1989

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq @karimac

@arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @munstysmind @fanficanatic-tw @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

****

WHERE: GASPAR'S SAFE HOUSE

“Tyler?”

He teeters on the edge of sleep, his body exhausted and aching; a dull, throbbing pain that seems to travel from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.  He feels as if he’s lived a lifetime in a matter of twenty-four hours;  his flesh littered with abrasions, bruises and gaping, hastily tended-to wounds.  The silence surrounding him a welcome reprieve from gunfire and mayhem;  temporarily tucked away in that quaint safe house on the city's outskirts.  

The booze and the pain meds have begun to take effect; a haze and warmth that lower both his guard and his inhibitions and soften the chaos and the incessant second-guessing that have plagued his mind for hours.    But her voice -quiet and apprehensive-  somehow manages to cut through the layers of inebriation and exhaustion.  And when he opens his eyes and glances towards the stairs, he discovers her standing on the middle landing; illuminated by the couch-side lamp and the glow of the light above the stove.

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to come down there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He watches as she descends the remaining stairs and approaches, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her hair is loose and dishevelled from sleep; thick, dark tresses framing her face, tumbling over her shoulders, and spilling down her back.  Her tiny frame drowns in a man’s button-down shirt;  crisp and cool cotton in charcoal grey,  the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.  One of many offerings that Gaspar had left behind in a plastic bag on the kitchen table;  faded and tattered t-shirts and old jeans with holes in the knees and pockets and loose threads dangling from the cuffs.  With nothing appropriate for a woman -especially one of Esme’s petite stature- available, she’d been relegated to washing her original clothes by hand; tattered and stained by blood and now drying over a chair on the small back porch.

Despite the dim lighting, he can see how heavily body and spirit bear the toll of the day;  a slump to normally confident shoulders, a limp that replaces the normal bounce to her step. The sparkle of those dark eyes diminished;  now dull and lifeless from a potent mixture of exhaustion,  discomfort,  grief, and concern.   And when she stands in front of him, he can see the damage done to her pale, smooth skin;  a bruised and slightly swollen left cheek, a red and angry abrasion that mars her forehead and disappears into her hair,  and a small split to her bottom lip that appears sore and tender.

Yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

His hands find her hips as she steps between his splayed thighs. “You should be asleep.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“I’ve been resting my eyes. Here and there.”

“I damn near had a panic attack. I woke up and didn’t even remember coming here.  I didn’t recognize anything,  you were gone.  That’s what totally freaked me out.  I didn’t know where you went, and I thought maybe something bad happened and you had to leave us here or…”

“I’d never do that.   No one is getting left behind. Especially not you.”

“It just scared me.  Not knowing where I was.  Being disoriented and alone and…”

“I only left because I didn’t want to wake you up.  I couldn’t shut my brain off.  And if I’d stayed up there and just kept tossing and turning…”

She reaches out;  gentle fingertips exploring the bruises and wounds that litter his face.  “Are you feeling any better?”  

“A little.  The meds kicked in about ten minutes ago.”

She gently explores the cut above his right eyebrow and the abrasions on his cheek. “Did you take a lot?”

“I only took a couple.  Just to take the edge off.  Nowhere near enough to knock me on my ass.”

“I mean, I know it’s not any of my business; how many pills you take or how much booze you drink.  But…”

“We talked about this. A couple of days ago. About how it’s becoming your business.”   

 When their plans to travel together after the job in Dhaka had been made official,  they’d been accompanied by a conscious decision to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to.   There’s an optimism he clings to;  the belief that their immense attraction to one another will follow them into the ‘regular world’.   That it isn’t solely rooted in similar experiences and shared circumstances; their equally traumatic childhoods,  their time in the military and their failed marriages, the stress and the unpredictability of the ‘job’.    

 It’s the first time in years that he’s felt any sense of positivity regarding the direction of his life; finding himself no longer obsessed with wanting to catch a bullet or interested in drinking himself to death.  It would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made; turning his back on the second chance that lay before him.  And he’s determined to put the work in; wanting to clean himself up and give her the kind of man she wants, needs, and deserves .

“I worry about you.”  Pushing her hands into his hair, she allows the longer strands to slip through her fingers.  “I know you’re not to use that; someone giving a shit.”

He can’t remember the last time someone expressed any kind of concern in regards to his well-being.  While boldly -yet erroneously- calling herself a friend, Nik views him as both a nuisance and a commodity.  While none of the other mercenaries on her payroll come close to possessing the same level of skill and knowledge, his issues with drugs and alcohol often get in the way of her securing a client -and a mission- only he can conquer. Her friendship comes with a price;  relying heavily on his ability to keep himself alive and the cash rolling into her bank account.  And Mia had never been an affectionate or nurturing person;  lacking those traits long before their marriage had started to sour.  A byproduct of her career and upbringing, she’d always been rather cold and distant; expecting the man to be continuously ‘rock steady’ and admittedly ‘turned off’ by any show of softness or vulnerability.

His mother.   She’d been the only one who’d ever shown him that kind of care and concern.  Loving him unconditionally; with every breath she took and every punch and kick his father had rained down upon.  Continuously -and selflessly- putting herself…mind, body, and soul…in the direct path of his ire to keep her only child safe. Attempting to give him some semblance of a normal childhood despite all the bloody noses,  broken ribs,  split lips and trips to the emergency room.    It was the last time he’d ever felt loved;  the only person who allowed her to show and express emotion and experience moments of fear and weakness. 

Nearly three decades.  Since anyone has given a shit.  And it seems so foreign now; finding himself at the receiving end of even the smallest forms of affection.  

“It’s been a long time,” he admits.

“That’s not right,” she laments.  “That’s not right at all .”

Her hands continue to move through his hair; gently and repeatedly combing the dirty blond tresses.  He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her; transfixed by the tenderness that both touch and gaze possess.  The couch side lamp bathes her skin in a soft, almost ethereal glow;  highlighting the juxtaposition between the bruises and cuts that mar her flesh and the gentle smile that curves moist lips.  

 It takes his breath away;  her emotions -a mix of concern,  adoration, and lust-  written so plainly upon her face. He doesn’t deserve it; someone regarding him in such a manner, wanting and needing him to the depths and lengths she’s already shown.  And while part of him whispers to push her away and spare her the hurt that he’ll eventually cause,  an even louder and more persistent one screams at him to never let her go. 

A shiver travels through him as her nails lightly scrape along his scalp and down onto the nape of his neck; those small, delicate fingers dancing over his skin before deftly and easily manipulating the sore, tense muscles below them.  His eyes close; a sigh of both weariness and contentment escaping his lips as his head falls forehead and his brows rest against her.   It’s intimacy in its purest;  her touch soothing as he completely lowers his guard and allows himself a rare moment of vulnerability.   She won’t judge him for it;   won’t scoff, scold or mock upon discovery of a chink in his armour.    Not the type to view him as less of a man because of a show of weakness;  instead preferring to nurture the rarer, softer fragments that linger under his tattered edges and worn and weathered exterior.

When she gently tugs on his hair, he tips his head back and gazes up at her;  eyes riveted on hers as she affectionately strokes his ears and slowly traces the outer edges with the tips of her index fingers. It isn’t until she releases a sigh of her own and scraps her top teeth over her bottom lip that he physically reacts; his hands smoothing over the curve of her hips and down the sides of her thighs before slipping under the bottom of her shirt. He hears her sharp intake of breath when rough, calloused palms glide across soft, supple flesh. Sees the way her eyes darken when he traces a slow, methodical circle around her navel and gently tugs on the hoop that passes through it.  Feels both the shiver that passes through her and the goosebumps that invade her skin as his fingertips skim along the waistband of her simple cotton panties.

“This is wrong.”  Her voice trembles as she speaks. Barely above a whisper. “This is so, so, so wrong.”

“You could be saying  that about the last five days.” 

“I don’t mean that.  Us.  If there even is an us.”

His palms follow the curves and slopes of her ass and hips.  Finding himself amused by her disappointed pout when his hands slip out from under her shirt.   “I thought that was pretty obvious.” 

“I meant this. Here. Your friend’s place.” 

“If it makes you feel any better…”. His fingers tend to the buttons on the simple cotton garment. “…he doesn’t actually live here.  It’s a safe house.  He has no real ties to this place.”

“Always so rational.” 

Allowing the shirt to fall open, his hands once more find her hips;  fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he aggressively pulls her closer.  She heaves a shaky sigh and violently shudders when his lips press against her stomach;  her fingers burrowing in his hair as the tip of his tongue draws a lazy circle around her belly button and his teeth pull at the stainless steel hoop.   Her nails digging into his scalp when he presses a series of kisses along her abdomen;  slowly travelling from hip to the other, then stopping at the strip of lace that covers her pussy.  And nuzzling his nose against her, he can smell and feel the moisture that dampens the thin fabric. 

Her hands tighten their grip on his hair as he presses a line of warm, moist kisses across her waist; his mouth travelling slowly from hip to hip as his calloused fingertips drift over her ribcage.   It’s a power juxtaposition;  the softness of his lips paired with the roughness of his beard.   She’s overwhelmed by the things he manages to stir inside of her; a level and ferocity of want and need that no one else has brought to the plate.   On the good days, sex with Mark had been a chore; she merely tolerated it and certainly never initiated nor truly enjoyed it.  On the bad days, it was expected of her;  threatened and forced and punished -severely- if she had the nerve to say ‘no’ or push him away.   After the marriage fell apart, she’d sworn off all forms of sexual activity that involved a partner;  convinced she could happily live the rest of her life tending to things on her own. 

And then she wandered into the debilitated shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

A violent shiver travels the length of her body as his hands and mouth travel upwards.  Suckling and nipping at her collarbone while his palms cup her breasts;  a whimper escaping her lips when his thumbs brush against her nipples.  He reaches for her hair, his grip tight and unrelenting as he pulls her down into a kiss; his strength and power cause her to lose her balance and tumble into his lap. His hands aggressive and needy as they easily manipulate her much smaller and lighter frame;  settling her on his lap,  her knees on either side of him.

Both kisses and touch are rough and unapologetic. Bruising lips and duelling tongues as his hands dispose of remaining clothes and hers yank at shirt buttons and belt buckle and hurriedly open the clasp and zipper on his pants.  There’s no romance;  no extended foreplay, no whispers of adoration or praise, no tenderness or adoration.  And she audibly gasps when he pushes into her with one strong, fluid thrust;  her head falling backwards and her nails digging painfully into the bruises and cuts that mar the back of his neck and shoulders.  

He remains undeterred;  the pain is no match for the depth and the power of the want and need that take over every fibre of his being.  His mouth finds the hollow of her throat;  licking, sucking, and biting at the skin as his palms find the smooth curves of her ass.  Fingertips biting into the soft, supple flesh as he controls every movement.

****

They sit in silence; basking in the afterglow with her sideways on his lap and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, both his arms wrapped around her. Her head on his shoulder; one hand resting on his side,  the fingers of the other repeatedly brushing the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck.  Clothes discarded earlier in haste gathered up and put back on; avoiding the awkwardness if Ovi awakens and wanders downstairs or Gaspar shows up unexpectedly.   His palm rests on the side of her left thigh;  fingertips repeatedly moving over the skin in slow, smooth circles.

“Tyler?”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow.  “Mmm?”

“Where should we head first? Where do you want to go the most?”

“What?”

“When we travel.  Once all this is over.  What should we put first on the list?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t really thought about it.  Wherever you want to go, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s it. Leave the hard work to me.   I’m terrible at making decisions. I’ll pick something now and by this time next week, I’ll have changed my mind a dozen times.”

“Why don’t we get the hard stuff out of the way? I know you’ve been freaking out about the idea of going back to Colorado and having me meet your folks.   If we do that first, you’ll be able to relax; have a good time when we go other places.”

“You know…” Esme presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “...sometimes you are wise.  So wise.”

“Are you saying I’m a dumb ass all the other times?”

She nuzzles the sensitive spot under his left ear with the tip of her nose. “Never.”

He’s getting used to it; her almost overwhelming need to give and receive affection.  She’s the first partner he’s had that’s been so needy in that respect, and decades of being touched starved has caused him to be standoffish at times;  unsure of how to react to her not being afraid to seek out physical contact.  But she’s patient and understanding and never takes initial resistance or hesitation as a personal slight.  After only five days, he’s both accepting and responding with much more comfort and ease; not realizing just how much he’s missed tenderness and affection.   And amidst all the chaos, unpredictability,  and fear of what’s to come,  her mere presence gives him a welcome escape.  The touch of her hands, the feel of her lips, and the smell of her hair somehow easing the weariness and the tension. Even if only temporarily.

“You don’t really want to go there, do you?”

“I want to see the mountains.  Go snowboarding.”

“You do realize we can  do those things without going near my family, right?”

“It was your idea.  To take me to meet them.”

“And now I realize what a shitty idea it is.  And no…”  Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards her. “...you are not the reason I don’t want to see them.  I mean, you are .  But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“I’m not ashamed. Or embarrassed.  When it comes to how we met and how quickly things happened between us.   And it has nothing to do with who you are and what you do or…”

“Esme,  none of that shit crossed my mind.”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.  I know what they’re like; I’ve put up with their bullshit all my life.  They thrive on bullshit and drama. Especially my mother.  Why would I want to subject you to that ? You haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of punishment.”

“Haven’t you been waiting your entire life for someone to come along and put your mother in her place?  Well, the time’s come. Now’s your chance.”

“You have no idea what she can get like.  Just how awful she is.  She’s a miserable, evil bitch.  And I can only imagine what kind of shit is going to come out of her mouth. About you, about me…”

“I’m not your ex-husband.  I’m not the type that’s just going sit there and let it happen.  She steps out of line, I put her back in it.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush the longer strands of hair off his forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.  Someone’s got your back now.  And she should know it.”

“My hero,” she playfully croons, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.   I’ll let her know.  And I won’t be nice about it.”

“You really are a knight in shining armour.”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Knight in slightly tarnished armour?”

“I’ll let you have it.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence;  her head against his shoulder, the nails of one hand lightly and repeatedly brushing against his beard. His chin rests on the top of her head as calloused fingertips continue tracing random patterns on the side of her thigh and back of her knee.  And he’s once more on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; eyes flickering open, finding her staring up at him.  Those enormous dark eyes once more filled with concern, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Who?”

“Ovi.”

“We’re going to get him out of here.  Get him back where he belongs.”

“I mean after .  When this is over.  What happens when you do get him home?  His father’s in jail. There’s no one there to protect him.”

“ I haven’t stopped to think about that.  Yet.”

“Asif will never let him live. Think of the disgrace.  He isn’t going to give up, Tyler. He’ll go after him again.  And this time, things will end up so much worse.  It won’t be about money, or power, or influence.  Or disrespecting or embarrassing Mahajan.  It will be about revenge.  And you know what people like Asif are capable of.   They’re violent and depraved and the things he’ll do to Ovi…”

“This is why you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“He’s just a kid.  He doesn’t deserve this.   And if there’s no one around to keep an eye on him…”

“What do you think we should do?  How would you handle it?”

“I don’t know.  But there has to be something, right? That we can do? That you can do?”

“Short of sticking around in Mumbai and keeping an eye on him until shit dies down…”

“Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

“Would you? Be willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure,” Esme admits.  “It wouldn’t be the safest place, you know? We’d all have targets on our backs.  Hanging around,  just waiting for trouble to show up? Not my idea of a good time.”

“What else is there? What other options do we  have?”  

“We could bring him with us.  We could put off travelling. Spend some time hiding out somewhere. We could take him to your place;  lie low in the outback for a bit. Or we could go to Prague. Stay at my place; just until we know the coast is clear and that  Ovi will be safe back in Mumbai. It makes sense, right? For you to be the one to do it.  I know there wouldn’t  be any pay at the end of things, but…”

“It’s not about money. It stopped being about that hours ago.”

“I just think it makes sense; that we take him with us.  You can keep him safe.  He trusts you.  And I think that…”

“You know what I think?  I think it’s been a long day.  And I think you’re tired and overwhelmed and you need to try and turn your brain off.  Or at least quiet it down a bit. I know you’re neurotic as fuck sometimes, but…”

She grins.  “You already figured that out, huh?”

“Less than a day into knowing you.”

Scowling, she tugs playfully at the hair covering his chin. 

“Why don’t we just let it go for now; cross that bridge when we get to it.  Because it’s been a hell of a fucking twenty-four hours and my brain needs some peace and quiet.  And I know yours does too.”

“I just…”

“Not right now, okay? Let's try and get some sleep.  We need it.”

Nodding in agreement, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder. Several minutes passing before she gives a loud yawn and once more sits up/

“Esme…”  Tyler doesn’t open his eyes. “ I swear to God…”

“I have a lot on my mind, okay? It’s really noisy up in there. And I won’t be able to sleep until it quiets down a bit. Humour me? Please?” 

Sighing,  he opens his eyes and slides a palm to the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. “What’s going on?”

“I need to ask you something.  And it might cross a line or two or trample on a couple of boundaries.   I know we haven’t known each other long and it’s kind of personal and you might want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, but  I’m just asking because I’ve been getting some really bad vibes and I’m nervous and worried and…”

He chuckles; her tendency to ramble when excited or nervous never crossing the line between amusing and insufferable. “Just take a breath, yeah?  It can’t be that bad.”

“It depends on what you consider bad. Or intrusive.”

“I think we’ve reached a point where nothing could be considered intrusive. Considering what’s been going on the last five days and just happened twenty minutes ago…”

“I’m only asking because I’m worried.  And a bit scared.  I…”

He squeezes the nape of her neck.  “Just ask.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I take it we’re not talking about Ovi this time.”

“Gaspar.  How close are you guys exactly?”

“We’re mates, I guess.  If we’re in the city, we’ll go out and grab something to eat, have a beer or two.”

“Would you say you’re solely ‘work buddies? That the only time you see him is if there’s a job involved?”

“Yeah, I’d say.  It’s not like we see each other regularly or we hang out when it’s our downtime.  I don’t exactly call or text him or shit like that, if that’s what you’re asking. Why…?”

“So you’re not friends friends. You don’t visit one another, you don’t know much about each other’s personal lives, you’re not on one another’s Christmas card list or…”

“I barely see the guy.   We’re work friends. Colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.  We won’t be visiting each other any time soon.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m being a huge bitch and personally attacking your friend or assuming bad things about him or…”

“Are you going to get to your original question sometime today or…?”

Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly, then chews pensively on her bottom lip.   “Do you trust him?”

“He owes me his life.”

“That isn’t what I asked.  Do you trust him?”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

She sighs.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“I can’t shake this awful feeling that he’s up to no good.  Something just isn’t sitting right; the way Nik was so resistant when you told her to call him,  the way he looks at me like he wants to throw me to the wolves, the things he says…”

Tyler frowns.  “He talked to you? When? What did he say?”

“He didn’t confront me or anything like that.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “ And it’s not so much what he says, but how he says it.  He won’t even call me by name; when he’s talking to you he calls me ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’.   That’s not a huge red flag to you?”

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always been a bit of an asshole.” 

“Something’s not right, Tyler.  And I know you’re feeling it, too.  Nik never would have put up such a fight about calling him if she wasn’t worried about something. ”

“I think everyone’s on edge.  We’re sore, we’re tired, we’re…”

“You just said you’re not sure if you trust him. So you’ve got the vibes, too. I know you do.”

“Whether I trust him or not,  this is our only option.   I have more control over things here than if we’re on the street, constantly looking for a place to hide out.  Do you trust me ?”

“With my life. You know I do.  But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this.   The way I’m feeling.  Something is… off .  I can’t put my finger on what , but it is.  And the sooner things die down and we can get the hell out of here, the better.”

“If I start feeling worse about things…about him …I’ll get you and Ovi out of there.  I’ll figure something out;  find a place to lay low until Nik can get us out of here.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I will get you out of Dhaka.”

“Gotta get yourself out of here, too.  Remember our deal? Both of us or neither of us.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I have thought about it.”

“And?”

“And I can’t make any promises.  Not when it comes to that.  You know how bad things can go. And how quickly it can happen.”

She scowls.  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

“It’s the only one I have to give you.  Right now, anyway.  Are we done?  Did you get everything out of your head you needed to? Quiet things down a bit.”

“It’s a little better.”

“You’re safe, Esme.  Nothing can touch you here.  And if anything even tried…”

“I can’t pretend I feel good about this.  About him .”

“You don’t have to.  But for now?  Try and get some sleep.  It’s been a long fucking day.  And if you don’t settle down, shut your mouth, and close your eyes soon…”

“You’re such a sweet talker,”  she chides, and nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.  “Let’s stay here a little bit longer.  Just like this.  I need it.  I need you .”

He obliges; wrapping both arms around her and pulling her even tighter against him.  Laying a palm on the back of her head, he draws it down onto his shoulder;  fingertips gently stroking her hair until her body relaxes against his. Her breathing softening and slowing as  she finally drifts off to sleep.

****

Despite succumbing to exhaustion, Tyler’s senses remain hypervigilant. Aware of the slightest change in temperature,  the softest of noises out on the street, every sigh and mutter Esme makes as she sleeps on the couch across the room, and each creak of a spring whenever she rolls over or adjusts her position.  His hearing is keen. Picking up on the rumble of an engine and the opening and shutting of a car door; a dog in the near distance barking at the intrusion.  

He senses the other man’s presence the moment he steps into the room; clocking the the shifting of floorboards beneath feet,  the rustling of a brown paper bag,  heavy, deep breathing, and a combined smell of cologne and perspiration.   He remains silent and motionless; not wanting Gaspar to be aware of his wakefulness.   The soft glow of the couch side lamp allows him to watch every move the taller, heavier man makes; his breath catching and his jaw clenching as Gaspar approaches the sofa.  

His hands curl into tight fists as Gaspar briefly observes a sleeping Esme,  then removes the throw from the back of the sofa;  draping it over and tucking it securely around her tiny body. Feeling both nausea and fury building inside of him when his old friend touches her; smoothing her hair away from her face and running a fingertip over the bruises on her left cheek and above her eye. And he isn’t entirely sure what he feels;  disgust, worry, rage.  Possessiveness, even.

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gaspar gives a small start, then an awkward chuckle as he turns away from the couch.  “You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.  Now answer my question. What are you doing?”

“The windows are open. It gets chilly at night. I was just making sure she was warm.” 

His body aches as he stands.  A throbbing that seems to spread outwards from his bones; travelling from the roots of his hair to the tip of his toes. Reaching for the sling he’d discarded earlier, he winces as he pulls it over his head, gritting his teeth as he settles his injured arm into place.   Approaching the couch,  he places his body between it and Gaspar as he reaches down to wake her; grazing his knuckles along her swollen and bruised cheek. 

“Hey…”  Tyler softly jostles her shoulder.   “...Esme…”

Giving a loud yawn, she stretches languorously and turns her face towards him;  pressing her brow against his forearm.

 “Tyler…” 

It claws at his throat and heart; the way his name leaves her mouth so softly and tenderly.   It’s terrifying;  what should have been a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement quickly -and effortlessly- becoming so much more.   She’s the first person to attempt to get past the walls he’d built in the wake of his son’s death; effortlessly managing to burrow beneath the layers of guilt and grief and regret.  Breathing life back into him and making him feel again.

“Esme…”  His voice is louder, pushing past the last remaining veils of sleep. “...you need to get up.”

Rolling onto her side, she peers up at him, concern immediately furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? Is there trouble? Do we need to leave? Do we…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  No trouble.  Why don’t you go upstairs?”  Curling his fingers around her bicep, he guides her into a sit. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

“Okay,” she sleepily agrees, gathering the throw around her shoulders as he helps her to her feet.

Although Tyler notices Gaspar’s disgust when she briefly rests her forehead against his chest, he doesn’t hesitate;  placing his hands upon her shoulders and gently squeezing. “Try and get some more sleep.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Alright.” Yawning once more, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes; wrapping the throw around her as she shuffles through the living room and up the stairs.  

Both men remain silent.  Until they hear the squeak of the bedroom door as it closes, followed by her soft footfalls overhead.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gaspar speaks in a harsh whisper.  Shoulders tightly drawn, eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and disgust. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and that girl . And whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

“Esme.  Her name is Esme.   And whatever’s happening between us? That’s none of your business, mate.”

“You’re my friend. That makes it my business.  What is wrong with you?  This ? This latching onto someone. Practically throwing yourself at their feet.  It’s pathetic; watching you trip over yourself trying to get her to even look at you.”

“I’m getting it just fine.  Without having to do that.   And when have I ever had a job like this?  Working with someone? This isn’t normal for me.  She’s not normal.”

“It’s embarrassing; the way you are with her.  I saw it the second you walked in here; needing to be near her all the time, always finding ways to touch, batting your eyelashes at her every chance you get.  When did you get like this? When did you get so soft ?”

“Keep getting on my ass like this and you’ll find out who’s soft.”

“You need to get your head on straight.  You’re a mercenary, aren’t you Tyler? Then start acting like a mercenary.  Because this ? Her ? It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s going on with Esme and I has nothing to do with the job.  And nothing to do with you .  So if you don’t mind, mate, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her.  Or go near her.  Just keep your distance. Because if I see you touching her again…”

“Get your shit together!” Gaspar snarls.  “You want to get out of here alive? Stop whatever is going on with that girl…”

“It’s too late for that.  To stop it.  So just back off and…”

“Don’t you understand that I’m worried about you?  That I see what’s happening? What she’s doing to you?  Are you that fucking blind that you don’t see it?  She’s using you, Tyler.  She’s lying and she’s manipulating and…”

“She’s not. She’s not doing any of that.”

“It’s what she does for a living.  Did you forget that?  Why she’s even involved in this job in the first place?  It’s who she is.  In the same way being a mercenary is who you are. She cons people for a living. And now she’s conning you . Because you’re her only chance of getting out of here alive.”

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Do you think she loves you?” Gaspar gives an incredulous laugh. “Is that what you think? That she sees you as some knight in shining armour that’s come along to sweep her off her feet?”

“You need to let this go, mate.  Because there’s nothing you can say or do…”

“This is what she does, Tyler; what she gets paid for.  She wanders into people's lives and turns them upside down. She lies and she uses and she…”

“That’s not who she is away from the job.”

“It’s exactly who she is. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“You don’t know her, Gaspar. You don’t…”

“And you do? It’s been what? A week? If that?  You think you know who she really is? That she isn’t using you and playing you the same way she has so many others? Why are being so fucking naive? Are you that lonely? That desperate? That you can’t see what’s going on?”

“You weren’t there.  Back in that hotel room.  You don’t know the things that happened or…”

“Oh, I know what happened.  You’re a red-blooded male, she’s an attractive woman.  It’s not hard to figure out.  And it must have been really damn good.  Bceause for you to be so naive and so fucking blind…”

“...or the things we talked about.  You need to let this go.  I don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re doing it…”

“She is going to ruin you, Tyler.  She is going to lie and manipulate and tell you everything you want to hear. She’s going to keep whoring herself out to you so…”

His fists clench. “I’m warning you, mate.  Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about her at all .”

“Do you honestly believe someone like her would want someone like you?  That she doesn’t know what a mess you are? Look at her; she’s way out of your league and can do so much better,  Why would she want you ? All your baggage, all your bullshit. The pain meds and the booze and…”

“She knows I can change.  That I will change.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run off with her? When all of this is over?  You’re going to get out of Dhaka and the two of you are going to live happily ever after? That’s bullshit and you know it.  Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie; all the sweet nothings, all the pillow talk, all the promises.  And if you yanked your head out of your ass long enough to realize it…”

“I’m only going to tell you this once more.  It’s none of your business.  Don’t talk about her again. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.”

“You’re in for hell of a rude awakening the second you leave here.  When you finally realize that everything she said…everything she did…was nothing but shit.  She’s using you, Tyler. Doing whatever she has to make sure she gets out of here. And when she does, she will leave you an even bigger mess than you were before.”

Smirking, he gives his head an incredulous shake. “We’re done here.”

Gaspar snatches him by the arm, preventing him from leaving. “This is going to blow up in your face.  And she’s going to leave you an even bigger mess than you already are.”

“Mind your own business, mate. That’s the last time I’m going to warn you.”

“Two broken people can not come together and make a whole. It doesn’t work that way.  You know what happens? In the end? They end up making each other worse.  They destroy everything.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Drabble Request - Tyler Rake - Prompt 16 - Preferred Mood: mostly passionate and intimate with just a touch of fluff and male savagery 💗 Thank you so much! 🤗

Hello! Why yes, I think I can manage that for you :)

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

"Fuck me," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before opening again, watching his cock vanishing into your throat as he holds your hair back. "God, you give the best head."

Your eyes find his, winking up at him, releasing his cock with a soft pop, your tongue whirling over the head of his erection. "Hmm, I do, don't I?"

He snickers quietly, shaking his head. "There's that modesty I fell in love with." His hand tightens the grip upon your hair, his hips beginning to sway forward, looking down at you with a devilish grin. "Always look so pretty when I fuck that gorgeous mouth, always take it so fuckin' well."

You feel him begin to twitch against your tongue before long, hands grasping his hips and pushing him back, Tyler grunting with partial annoyance as he frowns at you. "I was enjoying that."

"Yeah," you breathe, kissing the vein that runs over his hip. "A little too much. Not ready for you to come yet. You gotta hold me down and fuck me for a while first."

"Nah," he sniffs, moving to the bed, lying down on his back. “I need you to ride me, babe. Right now.” 

"Well," you shrug, moving astride him, sinking down on the most perfect cock you've ever seen. "As long as I get this splitting my pussy, I don't mind."

He pulls you down to his level, kissing you softly, nuzzling your nose with his. "Good."

[ladycatashtrophe]

In case anybody was wondering how tumblr is doing right now...

I've just had to explicitly tell this hellsite not to share my content with AI companies.

This is the same hellsite that primarily profits from unique skill and talent, usually manifested in fanart, fanfic, fandom inspired original creations, and whack job nuttery like the vanilla extract cake or Bendy Dick Cumber Bitch.

Only Real Human People make things like that. Or at least make them halfway decently, anyway. A lot of those Human People are queer, disabled, POC, or otherwise disadvantaged in some way.

So, go to your account settings, select "visibility", and make sure the prevent third-party sharing toggle is ON. It should be blue and/or to the right, depending on your system/app appearance settings.

Godspeed o7

[snowingclouds]

Should I give my mutated Doc mandibles like the Predator?? It tempts me.

Also! I have a version of Rescue MIA: Failure that is a whole lot better and around 15k, should I post it? Has a whole lot more to it and a bit more of Doc’s identity crisis and Lion comfort.

[the-blaze-empress]

like genuinely this issue has been bugging me for YEARS i like my major character temporary death okay

pls rb for increased sample size!!

[tabootoji]

"KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US..."

LET'S DESCEND TO THE BOTTOM TOGETHER - PART 1 OF SELFISH DESIRES pt. 2 →

✰ - SYNOPSIS: suguru doesn't care whats going on around him when he's with you (or) you have to deal with suguru's high sex drive even when people are around. (ft. manami suda) ✰ - WC: 6.0k (got a lil excited, next parts might not be as long) ✰ - TAGS: reader is female, short, black and curvy, tongue kissing, nipple play, v. fingering, dry humping, dirty talk, praise, pet names, teasing, semi public, obsession/possessive, finger sucking, f. orgasm, impact play, size diff., groping, spitting (mentions of thigh riding, manhandling, dacryphilia, v. intercourse, cockwarming) no use of (y/n), all lower case ✰ - A/N: planning on making this 4 parts. this is my first fan fiction, so i hope you all enjoy :)

“you may enter.”

 you hear the tall buddhist priest next to you beckon in another wavering soul into the ‘restoration’ room of his monastery, where he helps those who cannot see the cursed spirits that torment them due to negative human emotion. geto suguru. with the low base of his soothing voice, he asks the human what troubles them, already gripping his hand out to extract the grotesque mass curled around their body like it's second nature to him, feigning interest in what the human has to say. 

 your sitting in a soft assortment of colorful patterned meditation cushions besides suguru, who lazily leans his muscular arm to rest his head on the tall bejeweled throne he sits on, long legs overstretch against the other arm of the royal seat. he turns the spirit into a small glinting black orb, flashing a beautiful smile on his angled face, giving the mortal the same teachings he gives all the others who come to his temple seeking help through his ‘rituals'. his smile doesn't quite reach his dark eyes, you notice. you're all too familiar with seeing the many facial expressions suguru fakes to the public eye, and the alluring ones he graces only you with.

 sugeru geto is a very busy man. throughout the day his schedule consists of leading worships, performing healing ceremonies, and ensuring that those occupying or taking care of his temple for his group were performing their roles dutifully. his soft spot for you is eminent - his heart can't bear being away from you for too long. so when he can, he integrates his pretty princess into his program. even if it means just having you sit with him during these dreary cleanses of monkeys that flock to the boat load into his home, he knew he could endure tending to whatever role he had to fulfill with you by his side. 

 as he took out his disinfecting deodorant to sanitize himself after the mortal exited the room, he snuck a glance at the ethereal being beside him.

 you sat cross legged on the arrangement of cushions on the floor alongside his throne. your kasaya and yukata robe that was similar in color to his hugged your round and curvy figure in a way that was so hypnotizing. you two are the only ones to wear these colors in the entire temple – a clear message to all on who you were and what you meant to him. your thick, tight curled strands of hair that usually cascaded the sides of your face down to your back were currently pulled into a slick and refined bun held together by an embellished hair comb clip. he admired this hairstyle on you – he had a better view of your illuminating melanated skin, your full lips, your cute button nose, and overall your captivating beauty. 

 his narrow eyes landed on your sweet wide ones, a slight blush cascading the canvas of your round cheeks. he smirks knowingly, realizing that both of you caught each other staring at one another. “are you doin’ alright little one? hope you're not too bored. are you comfortable?” he asks you. 

 “y-yes, i’m f-fine.” you stutter out. “please do not worry about me geto-sama.” you shift your gaze to the side, still slightly embarrassed at the fact he caught you eyeing him. but you can't help yourself. you have almost no choice but to gawk at the dashing man before you. the man that saved your life all those years ago. 

 you took note of the way his head laid on his hand, his long, luscious black hair covering his back. one strand that seemed to slip out of his top bun framed his handsome face. because of his height, his form draped completely across his seat. you are but in awe of his beauty, no wonder anyone who was blessed by his presence describes the man as charismatic, charming, godly

 suguru rolled his eyes, the thought of how he could try to make you gasp call out his given name briefly went through his mind before he chuckled lowly. “stubborn girl. how many times do i have to tell you – 's no need for honorifics between us. come, sit with me.” he holds his hand for you to take. you eye him hesitantly before placing your small hand in his large one, and he pulls you to him. 

 he guides your short frame to sit on his lap and you let out a shaky sigh, feeling his arms wrap around the swell of your hips, holding you closer to him as your thick thighs take perch onto his pelvis. he always initially asks you to sit on him when you stay during his sessions, and your bashful nature allows you to refuse him at first, giving him some minuscule excuse along the lines of not wanting to tire him out by carrying your heavy weight for too long. but you knew too well that you could not deny him of anything for too long. 

 “i apologize s-suguru…” you turn to say to him. you notice his large ears with protruding piercings perk up at your melodious voice slipping his name through your lips. the all consuming need he has for you courses through him yet again at the mere sound of your voice. he folds his hands together on your round stomach, leaning his head into the crook of your neck, feeling your nape get hotter to the touch as you continue, already making a mental note of his request. “...i always feel inclined to. after all, you are my savior.”

 suguru presses his lips to your shoulder, pecking it as he hums, thinking of that time all those years ago that he was blessed to have met you. in the first beginning years of his guise as a priest, you graced his presence by bowing at your feet, begging him to take you into his group. you had nowhere else to go - a rather weak sorcerer who spent your whole life abused by the mortals who raised you because of your divine gift of sight. you found a way to escape from your brutal environment and followed the rumors of a cleric who provided housing and leadership to those that can ‘see’ things others can't, while relinquishing those plagued by the manifestations of their own despair. 

 poor little one, suguru had thought when he first laid his eyes on you. you had presented battered and broken at the front of his door steps. it’s not your fault you were raised by dim witted monkeys. when you raised your head and bore your watery eyes from the ground to his, he looked deep into them and saw your potential. he saw the pain and turmoil you faced from your upbringing by those unlike you, and he could relate, having mortal parents himself. the dangerous path you took reminded him of why he himself broke away from jujutsu high.

 not only was he inspired by your gull, he was entranced by your delicate beauty that shined through your frayed outward appearance. he was overcome with the need to save you, shape you into the heavenly form of yourself he knew you could be, and in the back of his mind hoped he’d be lucky enough to one day call you a lifelong companion. 

 suguru took to you instantly, informing everyone in the monastery of their new member, and that all should treat you as they would treat him – or they would face his wrath. he had you reside in a room compounded with his, and while all others in the temple had clear and thorough roles to fulfill every day, the only thing suguru asked of you was to do whatever filled your heart with contentment and happiness. 

 and how else could you possibly do that without the kind and striking curse user who took you in with no questions asked, the first person in your life to ever show you such kindness, the man you practically fell in love with the first time meeting him, by your side as much as possible?

 after all this time you're still incredibly grateful that suguru not only allows you to cling to him, but that he still always seems pleased every time you're in his presence. little did you know, suguru was thrilled at the idea that you may feel the same way he does. the idea that the reason you're so attached to him was because you're as fond of him as he is of you made his heart skip.

 as more and more time passed, the both of you felt yourselves spiral into a never ending pool of emotions filled with passion, exhilaration, and most of all, desire.

 at first, suguru intended to respect your boundaries, never attempting to cross any dangerous lines when it came to you. but after some time, gentle and friendly gestures between companions became sensual and air stiffening tension between two budding lovers anytime you both were within close proximity of each other – which was almost all the time. hugs and cuddles turned into intimate embraces if you both clung to each other for too long. soft kisses on the hands and face turned intense when they lingered on the most sensitive spots of your bodies that only you two know of. 

 you both grew so close to one another, you eventually began asking suguru if you could stay in his room with him during the nights, which pretty much ended up with the both of you permanently living together in the same room. you both continued to muddle the borderlines of your relationship until the flooded gates opened that allowed both of you to indulge in each other to your hearts' content without having to feel guilty about it.

 that's all you can think about now when suguru begins trailing wet puckered kisses from your collarbone to your neck, stopping at the sweet spot below your earlobe and focusing his attention there, making you involuntarily squirm in his arms. suguru manages to pull you even closer to his hard lean body.

 “sometimes i wonder if you're the one who saved me, little one.” he whispers in your ear, before leaning down, blowing a puff of cold air from his mouth down the slight trail of saliva his lips left on your neck, causing you to shiver and turn your head to face him.

 suguru’s smile grows wider as he looks into your warmly rich colored eyes staring intently into him. “‘s there something you need from me, princess?” he asks teasingly, watching you glance down to his full sultry lips before quickly making eye contact again with his brown luminous ones again, swallowing harshly. 

 suguru is the highly esteemed leader of the sanctuary you call home, so you try to hold yourself to a respectful and reverent standard that should be held by anybody who could even think of being by his side. but it's as if your body betrays you when you're with him - especially this close. 

 your heart begins beating so fast it feels like it's banging against your chest. the temperature of your body increases till you feel like you're on fire. all the muscles in your body tighten up, your breathing quickens, and you're unable to ignore the pool of wetness that forms in between your legs that compels you to rub your thighs together for relief. 

 you get so caught up in your body going into overdrive that you almost forget that suguru had asked you a question. you blink once to remember, before scrunching your eyebrows together in a pout, too sheepish to express your feelings of lust out loud. 

 fortunately, suguru decides to have mercy on you - he knows how coy his girl can be - lifting one of the hands that gripped your waist and using it to cradle the side of your face, slotting his fingers to the back of your head to gently hold you in place. 

 “hm. it’s ok darling. know exactly what you need. stick your tongue out f’ me. need your lips. need to taste your mouth.”

 the words that roll off his tongue in his ravishing voice makes you audibly gasp out. suguru was never the type to beat around the bush, but him directing such inappropriate words to you with such ease always made your entire body tingle. 

 you listen obediently, slowly sticking out the wet mass in your mouth for him, closing your eyes as you feel your face heat up in anticipation.

 suguru smiles down at you. his docile, precious girl. his eyes darken with desire as you comply for him without question. always ready for me to make a mess of her. so cute. he thought, before sliding his own tongue out of his mouth to rub against yours, dancing and twirling them together, exchanging saliva with one another, making you moan out with your sweet voice while holding on to his robe for stability. he grips the back of your head tighter and pulls your face closer to his to deepen the kiss, sucking on your moist tongue and swallowing the rest of your pleasant noises into his mouth.

 for suguru, this is heaven on earth for him. having your bodies pressed against one another, groping at each other until one or both of you becomes undone in each other's arms. he’s almost embarrassed to admit that he’s already sporting a straining erection underneath his garments from just kissing you alone. 

 you both continue to explore each other's mouths with your tongues, sucking and biting where you can as you continue to share the same breath for some time. suguru begins to untie the string holding your yukata together, feverish to see if your body was expressing excitement just as much as his was.

 suguru releases your lips with a parting ‘mwah’, admiring the strings of saliva connecting your lips to his. he takes his thumb and swipes the bottom of your now swollen bottom lip, the result of his oh so greedy suckles during your mouth watering make out session. he takes note of how fast you’ve already turned putty in his hands from just fucking your mouth with his tongue. 

 he continues to undress you, pulling your attire enough for him to peer down at your stubby, erotic figure. your busty ample breasts bigger than the grips of his hands could hold were perky and well rounded. your taut brown nipples stood at attention the minute they were exposed to the cool air in the room, waiting for him to tweak at. your voluptuous stomach hung out, and suguru couldn't help but to salivate at your contours and rolls. his eyes finally wandered down to your puffy folds and thighs that glistened, already covered in your essence of messy slick. 

 suguru barely considered the possibility that another monkey may knock at the door anytime now to request for another one of his healings. because in his eyes you were a delicious dessert handed to him on a silver plate. 

 and right now, he had every intention to completely consume you. interruptions or not. 

 “s-suguru, someone might come in…” you voice out exasperatedly. it was almost frightening how you felt like prey that had finally been caught under his gaze, but it also sparked something inside of you. regardless, you tried your best to think logically. what would a mortal, a member of the group, or hell – even the maids or various service workers that constantly roamed and checked on every nook and cranny of the temple – think if they came into the room and saw you both like this?

 their superior, their god, roaming his fingertips against the arms of a half exposed, weakly curse user that squirmed in his lap with his every touch?

 your concerns slowly begin to fade the more lost you got in his persistent touches, feeling his mouth press against your ear as the pads of his fingers brush against your pebbled nipples, getting ready to tease and twist them till you jerk in his lap so much you leave a puddle of your own cum on his lap. only suguru was able to pull this primal urge from deep within you, making you lose all sense of reason from his caresses alone.

 “oh honey, don't think i’ll be able to stop myself anyway.” he murmured in your ear before licking up and down your earlobe, stopping at the lower spot behind it, and starting to swirl there with his hot wet tongue while he flicks his digits in swift movements against your erect nipples, proceeding to grope at your mounds while tightening the grip on his digits to rub and pull tightly at your responsive areola's that elicited the most adorable sobs of pleasure from you. 

 if suguru were being honest, he didn't care who or what was around him anytime he craved a taste of you. every time he got a look at your divine figure, blinding heat took over and before he knew it, he seemed to always have a bothersome hard on with you in his sights. distracting erections would refuse to go away even after he tried to relieve himself (multiple times), but to his surprise, you were all too willing to help him by not only giving your appetizing body, but your tender heart as well. of course for suguru it wasn't just all about the sex, even if he did choose to use it to express his devotion to you, alot. suguru derives the greatest pleasure from showing off your relationship to all. 

 so what if a useless monkey came in? 

 who cares if any of the staff members came to check on them and saw their leader's overbearing stature unraveling his pretty girl with only his calloused hands? 

 all the better for him. anyone could and should see with their own eyes how infatuated he was with you and only you.  

 suguru chuckles as he watches you whine and try not to buck your hips while he continues to fondle your stiff nubs. fussy girl. “s’ ok love. you don't have to hold yourself back. know how much you need this. oh … and you're not even wearing any panties. you can be so bad when you wanna be.” he teases you, letting go of your large tits to finally give attention to your increasingly soaking pussy. 

 he would have liked to have picked you up and turn you to face him, soothing his needy girl by letting you grind your twitching clit against his big thigh till you came, leaving a trail of your wetness on him as he slurps and tongues at your dark colored nipples. but with the way your glazed eyes looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together, lips parted, a bit of drool spilling out and sliding down the side of your jaw, he could tell you were getting desperate. shit – so was he. 

 he’ll give you exactly what you need – he’ll stuff his perfect girl's dripping cunt with his fingers till you explode all over him. 

 you flush at his accusation, quick to remind him that it was his suggestion for you not to wear underwear under your robe around the temple anymore so he could have “easier access to your sweetest spot wherever he wanted.” “s-suguru!”  you exclaim. “t-that's because...you told me not to –!” you jump in sugurus lap at the end of your sentence when he gently pinches the bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

 “i know sweet girl. ’s just so fun teasing you~” he practically purrs to you. suguru could be so mean sometimes! but you love him, even when he pokes fun at you. 

 you look up at him briefly to give him a small smile, before putting your attention to his fingers pulling apart your smooth lips that were already sticky with your arousal to get a better look at your pretty pink pussy. suguru can't help but whistle at the sight of your delicate flower. “look at her. isn't she just lovely?” hearing him refer to your cunt in the third person had you biting your lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip out, feeling yourself clench around nothing. 

 suguru drags a single one of his thick digits up and down the entrance of your drooling hole, picking up his pace a bit, enjoying the squelching noises your pussy makes as he strokes it. collecting enough of your juices on his finger, he slides it inside your rigged, tight walls and wiggles it deep inside you as his big palm kneads at your aching clit. “ always so fucking tight..” his voice rumbles out, and your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. you arch your back while he continues to prod and poke inside of you.

 suguru busies his unoccupied hand by pushing away any part of your robe that touched his lap, then unties his own yukata to reveal his painfully stiff lower half. he had also decided to stop wearing underwear beneath his robe, thankful for his idea now as his angrily red cock begged for some kind of stimulation. he slits it upward in between your plump bottom, so now every time you pushed against him, your thick round ass cheeks would give his now full hard on some much needed friction.

 he slightly bends you forward briefly to admire the sight before him – his two toned, veiny, and ridiculously thick cock was enveloped in the cellulite of your fleshy rear end that involuntarily jiggled about with any slight movement. the obscene view made him let out a staggering groan. he lands a crisp ‘slap!’ down one of your big cheeks that makes you yelp in surprise. your eyes widened as the sting from the impact began mixing with your pleasure. 

 unbeknownst to you, suguru was in awe, watching the swell of your curved ass moving in ruptures that imitated moving water from the ‘thwack’ he gave it, enjoying the vibrating sensations to his aching length. he shudders, feeling himself twitch against your soft skin, his bulbous tip releasing a drop of precum out of his slit. 

 suguru had to seriously control himself before he threw you up in the air and fucked into you right then and there with his lengthy girth ruthlessly. he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in your wet cunt that was grasping his beefy finger so tightly. he wanted to see your twinkling eyes quiver as fat tears fell from them while you cried out on his cock. he could practically picture you bouncing on his lap, desperately trying to meet his thrusts like the good girl you were. 

 get ahold of yourself suguru, he muses, shaking his head, gritting his teeth and sucking in a harsh breathe. he needed to focus on stretching out your tense little hole first so you could take all of him properly. above all, he wanted to make sure you'd enjoy yourself just as much as he would.

 he pulls you back to his chest, holding the side of your hip with one hand as he begins a steady pace with the finger inside of you. “tsk, naughty girl. already sooo wet for me. was it ‘cause of our kiss? or have you been like this the whole time?” you moan out his name once he’s finished, indirectly answering his question. 

 “aww, my poor baby. 's my fault, i’ve spoiled you rotten. now when my pretty princess goes too long without me payin’ attention to her, she gets so needy, hm?” you open your big thighs wider to accommodate his rapidly moving hand, confirming his claims as his digits pump in and out of you. you feel his rough finger trace every inch of the ridges inside the slippery walls of your cunt. 

 your panting now as suguru continues to play with your body – the feeling quickly becoming an addiction you have come to crave at an unhealthy rate.

 “oh! oh y-yes! m’ sorry suguru, p-please, need you…to pay attention to me!” you squeal out, feeling him add another one of his fingers inside of you, because how could he refuse his baby's delightful request? he guides the hand on your wide hip to rock against him, and you move them in juicy circular movements as his fingertips continuously graze against your g spot, causing your pussy to gush all over his hand. 

 you can feel drops of his warm sticky precum dribble in between your ass, and suguru uses it as a lubricant while he humps behind you, grunting heavily in your ear. as he increases the speed his fingers surge into you, he matches it with the grinding of your bodies.

 “i know princess, i know.” suguru gasps out. “my little doll jus’ needed me to take care of her desperate pussy.” he pants. suguru just loved to watch his kind, quiet girl spasm out in ecstasy in front of him, because of him. he achieves so much satisfaction from knowing that he’s tinkered with your body so much, he’s practically trained your cunt to be his personal cock sleeve. you can't go mere moments around him without your pussy leaking down your legs. 

 “‘d-desperate…only for you, my love …” you breathe out in your angelically soft voice, causing suguru to moan at the dirty words you whispered to him. you both extract the same feelings of greed and unadulterated lust out of each other. you can dive into each other's darkest desires without any shame. 

 “are you feeling good, little one? talk to me gorgeous.” suguru hums, wanting to hear more of your seductive words and noises in your sultry voice.

 “ah...a-ah! oh god! mph…! feels so good sugu-suguru ! love it so much..” you cry out, thrashing around as an entertained suguru smiles at your words of affirmation, pressing a wet smooch on the side of your face. 

 your moans and pants now begin to increase in volume unapologetically. suguru is so happy when you let loose like this, it’s when you're the most confident in yourself. just looking at how exquisite you look as he fingers you, he pledges to find new ways to crack into your hard shelled exterior so he can see you like this more often. 

 maybe he could find out what extracurricular activities you're passionate about to keep yourself busy during the day. but suguru knows in his selfish heart that he wants you to spend all your time with only him, as you both continue to taint each other while you lose yourselves completely to your urges. right now, he’s determined to help you let go of the last strings of sanity you're clinging onto to keep yourself from descending to madness from the enthralling level of pleasure you're experiencing. he wants to hear you scream his name out so loud, the entire temple will know what he's doing to you. 

 so he adds another finger into you, now pushing three of his digits into your soppy cunt. the strong grip he has on your hip is bound to leave ghosts of his touch on your skin the next day as he helps you grind down on his lengthy fingers while you fuck yourself on them, babbling out broken sentences that get interrupted by your cries and hiccups. he’s pumping into your burning heat so fast now, that every thrust makes your huge breasts bounce around erotically. you are such a sight to behold in suguru’s eyes. he looks at your pupils practically glow with hearts as you turn into a puddle of mush.

 you're close – he can tell by the way your pulsating hole quivers around his digits, sucking them in so much he can barely pull them out, leaving his hand covered in your tasty fluids. the room is filled with the symphony of obnoxiously pornographic squelches your poor cunt makes.

 surguru leans his head over your shoulder and spits a fat glob of his warm spit onto your clit, presses his thumb against it, and rubs tight juicy circles into your love nub, making you start to see white. he grasps one of your small hands in his large ones and holds it against your squishy chest, pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipple again while he turns his face to you to lick up the drool still spilling out of your pink lips. 

 “my sweet, sweet girl. you're so damn beautiful, so gorgeous. ‘gonna come on my fingers? don't be shy, let yourself go. wanna hear my pretty bird sing. come for me, little one.” hearing his sweltering voice whisper such vulgar words to you was all it took for you to release the balloon threatening to burst inside of you. your orgasm hits you hard, disorienting you as your vision blurs. your fluttering cunt sprays down sugurus arm and lap, drenching them in your juices. your hips finally give out, suguru having to support your body as you fall back on to him, letting out a final loud moan. 

 you sit against him in exhaustion, your chest heaving as you try to catch the breath that was ripped out of your lungs. suguru pulls his fingers out of your gummy walls, watching in amazement as strings of your slick stay attached to his digits. he holds his hand soaked with your cum up as the bright light beaming in the room catches it, a sheeny glow that reflects all over his palm leaves him starving for your taste. 

 he begins licking his hand clean, rolling his eyes to the back of his head as he shudders at the rich taste of you on his tongue. not wanting to waste a single drop, he laps up your essence that's all over his palm. once he's finished, he looks down at your tired out face and laughs to himself. already fucked out, n’ i havent even put my cock in you yet. suguru wasn't complaining though. he enjoyed seeing your mind and body so blown from pleasure you can barely move or form coherent sentences.

 he leans his forehead against yours and presses your cheeks with his hand to pucker your lips for a kiss, entangling his tongue with yours yet again to swirl the taste of yourself in your mouths. suguru sucks on the fat of your bottom lip, nibbling on it softly before pulling away slightly to give you a dazzling smile. 

 “how’re feeling now, little one? all better?” you somehow find the strength to nod your head, closing your eyes as he peppers your face with more kisses. “yes…i feel…m-much better. thank you…suguru…” you murmur, still reeling from your powerful climax. 

 “‘s good my love, i'm glad. because now… 'm gonna make you feel even better.” his smile quickly turns into a mischievous smirk as he gently pushes you forward so you could feel his long shaft throb against your backside.

 suguru was just about to put his hands under your arms to lift you up and raise you down onto his pelvis, when there was a sudden knock at the entrance door of the room. you quickly sit yourself up on suguru's lap, wrapping your robe around your still exposed front, and tried to look as presentable as possible before the door slid open. suguru pouted. he was just about to fuck you silly on his dick.

 it was suguru's secretary, manami suda. she bowed her head briefly before strolling to the center of the room. the way she swished her hips as she walked showed off the fit her sleeveless dress had on her body. she turned her full attention to suguru as if you weren't even in the room and spoke. “geto-sama, you have one more healing ritual before the day ends. afterwards, there's a meeting you must attend with all the members…” manami trails off and raises an eyebrow at you when she notices you suddenly stiffen in the middle of her talking. 

 due to the placement of both of your robes and you hiding sugurus bottom half as you sat on him, manami was unaware of the movements of the jujutsu sorcerer she spoke to and how they were affecting you. during her drabbles about his upcoming schedule, suguru busied himself with grabbing your hips and grounding his stiff rod against your supple heat, your leftover cum assisting him with his desperate humping. while you tried (and failed) to keep as still as possible, suguru gave out a thoughtless, automatic response to his secretary. “thank you, manami. go ahead ‘n let the last one enter then.” 

 manami nods and gives a final bow, sashaying away and flipping her salmon colored hair to give you a skeptical glance before she exits the room. when the sliding doors slammed shut, you hide your now reddened face in your hands, suddenly feeling self conscious. you now realize that you must have been so loud before. what if manami, who already seems to detest you, or someone else in the temple had heard you? how would you be able to face them, you thought.

 clueless to the internal conflict you were facing with yourself, suguru wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head with a satisfied hum, before sitting both of you up properly on his pedestal while the two of you wait for the last pitiful mortal to come in. 

 “let’s get through the day as quickly as possible, hm? can't wait till we’re back inside our room.” he whispers seductively to you, contributing to the warmth rising in your cheeks. honestly if it were up to suguru, he’d still fuck you senseless infront of whatever monkey was coming in to complain about their problems. he’d have even continued what he wanted to initially do to you before manami came in, uncaring if anyone walked in on him filling his girl up.

 if others didn't get that he constantly needed intimate time with his woman, he had no problem satisfying their curiosity by showing them all the dirty things he does to you. the thought only manages to spur suguru on, and he decides that he wants to see you melt even more for him. however, suguru takes into consideration how modest you thrive to be in public settings with him, and decides to have some ‘pity’ on you.

 so while suguru continues to play his role as a kind hearted cleric during his final healing ritual of the day, he periodically raises his hips up to grind himself between your puffy folds, no barrier separating the two of you now, embracing you securely so you're constantly reminded of his longing for you.

 surguru gets so worked up from this, he changes his mind on being nice and asks you to at least cockwarm him, feeling his hard cock involuntarily twitch against you from the need to feel your cunt swallow him greedily. excuses for your refusal fall on deaf ears as you try to reason with him. after grumbling, suguru eventually realizes you may have been right after visualizing the risky idea: 

 the crown of suguru’s fat sensitive cockhead bumping against the squishy spot deep inside of you that pushes you over the edge, a spot only he can reach. unable to move, both of you falling to pieces at the guaranteed snug hold your pussy would have on his engorged length. his poor dick would have no choice but to release hot beads of his precum inside you that would only add to the mess of your sloppy pussy as you clenched, feeling your heartbeat from within.

 suguru almost thought he’d cum on the spot from just his filthy imagination alone, and you would no doubt follow suit as he feels your cunt spill more slick on him every time his bulb-shaped tip repeatedly catched on your abused clit, stimulating it with his agonizing thrusts. suguru will give you both what you need later, when he pounds into you mercilessly for hours in your shared bed, fucking you within an inch of your life. he can't wait to feel your pussy leave a mess down his heavy cock, milking him for everything he’s worth.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[jesterbells]

Tumblr New Word Dictionary

I love new words. So here's a list of recently created words and idioms I have learned through tumblr (not all of these terms were invented on tumblr but that's where I learned them--the citations specify whether the term was coined by a specific post, or cite a source for where I first heard the term even if that is not necessarily where the term originated):

blorbo: a fictional character you're a fan of. Coined by thelustiestargonianmaid.

"I'm so hungry I could get banned from facebook": coined by babyslime in response to a Wil Wheaton post

GORIMM: Gross Older Relation I Must Marry. Source: bethanydelleman

hlep: when a disabled person asks for a specific kind of help and "they do something that is not what you ask for but is what they think you should have asked for ... Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hlep." Source: giantkillerjack's therapist.

horse fantasy: something that is theoretically possible unicorn fantasy: something that is definitely (or almost definitely) impossible. Source: bemusedlybespectacled.

zomancy: soup divination. Source: cryptotheism.

UFOs: unfinished objects--"something that is unfinished but in hibernation," as distinct from WIPs. Source: knitting community and bylambd.

autoenshittification: turning cars into digital extraction machines to steal your data and money through digital infrastructure and microchips, and the endless repair nightmare of digital car systems and cybersecurity vulnerabilities. Source: mostlysignssomeportents

nude: "when your clothes are off." naked: "when you're clothes are off when you're up to something." nakey: "when you are an animal and your collar has been removed." Source.

sideways fan: following a fandom second-hand. Source: capricorn-0mnikorn.

spoken Garamond: "the over-emphasized voice people use to read poems." Source: Frances Klein's friend.

nongry/nungry: when you're starving but also don't want to eat any of the food in your kitchen. Coined by tathrin.

scrumbling: scrolling on tumblr. Coined by the mum of anti-terf-posts.

window shipping: "any shipping done without actually watching/reading the work in question." Coined by lurker-no-more.

friend John / a Friend John answer: "when someone asks a relatively reasonable question in context and the enquiree 1) speaks at length without answering the question, and 2) implies the enquirer has injured the enquiree by even asking such a thing how could you." Coined by sileana.

bitism: a new school of media criticism which asks the simple question: is the work committed to the bit? Coined by linecoveredinjellyfish

snors d'oeuvre: having a little nap on the sofa before taking onseself to bed for main sleep. Coined by SJKSalisbury (can't find the tumblr repost now).

socratic terror: "what every athenian felt when they went down to the agora in the 5th century and saw an old man with a beard approaching them." Coined by lesbianshepard.

introvirtuous: "when you're introverted but have taken on numerous leadership and outgoing roles in your life." "I'm here to help. But I'd rather not be." "Someone around here has to get things done. and unfortunately it's going to be me." Coined by soundslikerhetorical.

grundlous: "of or pertaining to grundle." Coined by IMLIZY.

concretes: specific aspects of a character that persist across interpretations. The essential, structural essence that makes a character recognizable as the same person. Rarely physical traits; subjective. Coined by Ladylark and kayanem.

skeletonin: "the happiness chemical released when you see a ghoul or perhaps a ghost." Coined by gwentrification.

broflakes: "the weak, fragile 'alpha' males who are so easily threatened by strong women." Source: rickladd (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).

the planet of hats: "the thing where a people only have one thing going for them, like 'everyone wears a silly hat.'" Source: Star Trek fandom & TV tropes, learned via homonculus-argument.

feelings yakuza: "those who turn their personal discomfort into a social evil and try to erase the target completely." Source: Japanese fandom via マロミチャン.

Ship of Thesaurus / Rogetism: "When a student copies an essay online instead of writing it and then painstakingly changes every word to a synonym until the text no longer makes any sense." Coined by trek-tracks and Chris Sadler respectively.

Flemming's law / vibe dysphoria: "the most toxic person you've ever met over-relates to woodland creatures on social media." Coined by Chris Flemming and canadianwheatpirates.

fight with a gorilla: "any secret or invisible struggle." Coined by punksandcannonballers.

squimbus from my polls: the poll version of blorbo except for obscure fan favorite characters. Coined by yardsards.

pebbling: "the act of sending your friends & family little videos and tweets and memes you find online, like how penguins bring back pebbles to their little penguin loved ones." Source: NurseKelsey (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).

serpentineabouts: roundabouts that aren't round. Coined by paulgadzikowski.

luft: air equivalent of wet. Coined by questbedhead.

getting the good bologna: "when you experience something of better quality and then you’re doomed to no longer be satisfied." Coined by the family of kelssiel.

hypofixation: "the kind of things that you've autisticly decided you Do Not Care About." Antonym of hyperfixation. Coined by animate-mush.

[chickensarentcheap]

I Found: The Missing Pieces

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Esme Drummond (OFC)

Summary: A collection of requested one and two shots that cover the CANON events mentioned in the original "I Found" story. It's not a necessity to have read it, but it might help.

Author's Note:

This is a companion piece to "I Found". When I first wrote the story four years ago, I had every intention of including 'flashback' chapters that weaved Esme into the events of Extraction. Sadly, I lost my confidence at the time and ended the fic before I was one hundred percent ready to do so. Which I deeply regret. In the time that has passed, readers have requested both 'movie canon-centric' pieces and those that cover events between Tyler and Esme that were merely mentioned.

Please keep in mind that the pieces are NOT in chronological order according to the movie timeline or Tyler and Esme's persona timeline. Instead, they are written and posted in the order in which the readers submit their requests.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Love, Chickens

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @watermeezer @munstysmind

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @karimac @alisbackalleybbq @kmc1989

@arrthurpendragon @occommunity @ocappreciationtag @ninjasawakenedmystar @themaradwrites

@fanficanatic-tw-

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57016363/chapters/144997636

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you'd like to be added

****

Chapter One: The Bar

Where: outside Dhaka city limits

When: six days before Ovi's rescue and extraction

  “You have a really nice smile, you know that?”

Giving a small, embarrassed chuckle, he takes a large swallow of beer.

“What? You’ve never heard that before? No one has ever told you?”

“Once. A very long time ago.”

“I find that hard to believe.  What’s the deal with that? People just too blind to notice? Or do you just not do it much? Smile.”

“Someone needs a reason to, yeah? I haven’t had one of those in quite a while.”

“You’re doing it now.  What’s the explanation for it?  The whiskey, beer, or tequila?”

“I’m thinking  it has less to do with the booze and more to do with the company.”

She feels the heat that rises in her cheeks and quickly spreads to her ears; a mixture of embarrassment and the handful of tequila shots and glasses of beer that have already been consumed. “Did you just bust out your game on me, Tyler Rake? Because THAT was smooth.”

“Game? What game? I don’t have any game. That’s just me telling it like it is. What’s the saying?”  Reaching for one of two remaining full shot glasses on the tray in the middle of the table, he sets it in front of her, then takes the final one for himself. “Drunk minds speak sober thoughts? Or some shit like that.”

“Well, it certainly makes you chatty, that’s for sure.”  She picks up her shot and leans across the table; tapping the tiny glass against his before downing the liquor. Wincing and then rapidly patting her chest -in vain- to relieve it of the near-painful burn the tequila leaves behind.  “I don’t mind, though.” She sets the empty glass upside down on the tray. “I like it.”

“What?”

“This side of you.”

“Yeah?” Tyler nods his thanks to the waiter who arrives to retrieve the tray of empty shot glasses and deposit a platter of various appetizers in the middle of the table.   Waiting until the man departs before addressing Esme once more. “What side is that?”

“The non-mercenary side.  It’s… nice .”

“Nice, huh?” (Chuckling, he takes a swig of beer. “Something tells me you won’t  find it that nice once you get to know me better.”

“What is there that could possibly scare me off?  I’m stuck in this shitty-ass life too, you know. I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing I haven’t seen or heard.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“All I know is that I’m pleasantly surprised. With what I’ve seen so far, anyway.   Away from the bullshit, you’re a normal guy.  You’re not constantly bragging about the number of people you’ve killed and all the gory ways you’ve done it.  It’s… refreshing .”

“Refreshing.  I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

“Something tells me you’re not the total hardass everyone thinks you are.  All they know is mercenary Tyler. That’s all that exists to them.”

“Maybe there’s nothing more to it. Maybe that’s all I am.”

“You’re too different.   You’re not like everyone else.  You hide yourself away from the rest of the world. You’re not out there bragging about what you do.  You’re not hanging out  in  bars talking about your kill sheet or telling stories of all the gory ways you can kill a man with your bare hands.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“People talk, especially in this circle. No one knows anything about you outside of the job.  It’s like you don’t even exist; you get in and out and barely leave anything behind. Sometimes, it’s like you were never even there.  Some people wonder if you’re even real; if you’re nothing more than an urban legend that’s just evolved over time.  If the stories are just that. Stories.”

“Well,  now you can go back and let them know that I’m real. That I actually do exist.”

“Believe it or not, like you, I try to keep my distance, too.  Put that world behind me when I finish a job.  A form of self-perseverance, you know? I can’t live in that world twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  I need time away;  just disconnect from it and pretend that I’m a normal person, living a normal life.  Whatever normal is, anyway.”

He nods in understanding.  “What I want to know is how you’ve heard all this stuff about me.  How you seem to know more than anyone else.”

“It’s not that I know more than they do.  It’s just that I SEE more.  I look at you differently, I guess.  I see things they don’t.  Or maybe they’ve just never bothered to look for them.”

“Something tells me there’s a little more to it than that.”

“Well, what can I say?”  Reaching for her bottle of beer, she finishes it in one long pull.  “You’re not the only one that’s really good at their job.”

****

They engage in small talk as they indulge in the appetizers and start in on the new round of shots and a pitcher of beer. Both aware of the physical closeness that has developed between them; neither experiencing discomfort or attempting to shy away from it. The toes of their shoes touching under the table while their fingertips often brush together;  staying in contact as their forearms rest on top of it.   

Whether it’s merely the booze making him feel at ease, Tyler finds himself enjoying her company;  liking the sound of her voice and the way she smiles and laughs.  She possesses a layer of confidence that often thins to the point of revealing something else entirely: a shy and awkward child who while in need of attention, acceptance,  and adoration, worries about how she’s being perceived.   And there’s a sexiness under that youthful, girl next door persona that had initially attracted him;  something unique and appealing about the handful of piercings and the sneak peeks of ink that the slight shift of her clothing gives him. Numerous colourful and intricate tattoos that grace soft and supple flesh.

“Tell me more about yourself, Tyler Rake.”

“I don’t know how much more there is to know. You seem to have a pretty good handle on things. Your spying has served you well.”

“I’m hardly a spy.   It’s not like I’m some female James Bond running all over God’s creation.   I just know where to go for information.  What places to look, what people to talk to. I’m an intel specialist.”

“Which is a fancy name for a spy.”

“Potato, po-ta-toe. Seriously, though…” Reaching for the pitcher of beer, she tops off both their glasses. “...tell me.”

“Probably easier if you tell me what you DO know. That way I can just fill in the gaps. If there are any.”

Her eyes sparkle as she lifts her glass to her mouth; rim pressed against her lips she grins at him from across the table. “You’re difficult.”

“I can be.”

“Lucky for you, I love a challenge.”

“Something tells me that or a little thing, you put up a hell of a good one yourself.”

“Well, maybe if you play your cards right, you’ll find that out firsthand.”  She immediately becomes embarrassed; noisily setting her glass down on the tabletop and then covering her face with both hands. “Oh God…” She laughs into her palms. “...that was just so wrong. So, so, so wrong.”

“I didn’t have a problem with it.”

“That was just way out of line. I’m sorry. I never should have said that. I…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

“I  know better than to drink this much.  And I  normally don’t .  Because of shit like this.  I get a little too…I don’t know…bold.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is.  I didn’t see anything wrong with what you said.  Believe me, it takes a lot to embarrass me.”

“Sometimes it takes very little to embarrass me.  And saying what I did…”

“Hey…”  He lays a hand on her forearm, emboldened when she doesn’t question the touch or pull away from it; proceeding to repeatedly graze the pad of his thumb along her skin.  “...it’s no big deal.  There’s no reason to get worked up. Not with me, anyway.”

She gives a smile of appreciation. “Word of warning.  I can be a little…neurotic…at times.”

“I’ve noticed. You know how you mentioned what was lucky for me? Well, I guess it’s lucky for you that I don’t scare easily, either.”

Her eyes widen. The heat in her cheeks and the tips of her ears increasing.

“There. Feel better? Now you’re not alone.  We’re BOTH embarrassed.”

She laughs in response and he reaches for his beer; the fingertips of his free keeping that small, innocent contact with the side of her forearm.

“So what DO you know? About me?”

“More than you realize.”

“Like?”

“You were born in  Port Douglas.  A little town in Queensland. You were an only child; your father worked in construction and your mother was a homemaker.  But she taught right up until shortly before you were born;  home economics and sociology were her specialties.  She even won Queensland Teacher of the Year.  Twice in a row.”

“How do you know all of this? How…?”

“Come on now…”  Her eyes sparkle mischievously.  “...a woman has to have some secrets.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.”

“You don’t get to be this good at my job without knowing where to look and who to go for information.  And without learning how to hack  into a government computer or two.”

“I’m almost afraid to find out what else you know about me.”

“There were no skeletons in the closets I looked into. Well, nothing major, anyway.”

“If you know about my mum, you know what happened to her.  You read about the accident.”

“I did”  Sighing, she chews pensively on her bottom lip. “And I’m sorry. That you lost her.  Especially as a little boy.  It’s hard enough to lose someone you love at any age, but that?  That’s just...horrific.  I wasn’t going to bring it up, by the way.  If you hadn’t mentioned it…”

“It’s alright.  It’s a long time ago.  Almost thirty years.”

“It still bothers you, doesn’t it. Losing your mom. Especially the WAY you lost her.”

He nods. “Yeah, it does.”

“You don’t need to say anything else. And I definitely won’t push you on it.  But if you ever WANT to talk about it, I’m a pretty good listener, and I wouldn’t mind hearing about her. Or about what you were like when you were a kid.  It’s kinda hard to imagine you like that, you know? What you were like before all of this.”

“I was just a normal kid, I guess.  Did normal kid shit. What else do you know? Or should I be scared to ask that?”

“Like I said, I didn’t find anything major.  Nothing I’d  consider even remotely alarming.”

“Humour me.”

“I know that you joined the military straight out of high school.  And that you’d only served a few years and completed a couple of tours before they approached you about joining special ops.   That’s a pretty huge deal, you know. The fact they came to you.  Usually, it’s the other way around.”

“I guess something I did impressed them.”

“You had three medals for outstanding bravery.  And you were only twenty-three.  I’d say that’s pretty damn impressive.  You were practically a kid still and you passed the training for SASR. With flying colours. Do you know more people have died in training than they have in war? While working special ops?”

“You really are into doing your research, aren’t you.”

“Well, if I’m going to be pretend married to someone, I think it’s only fair that I find out if he’s an axe murderer or not. I don’t want to be sharing a hotel room with a serial killer.”

“How do I know you’re not one?  Isn’t it the ones you least expect?”

“I guess you’ll have to hope and pray for the best.  Or at the very least, sleep with one eye open.”

“You know what I have a hard time wrapping my head around? You being caught up in this shit.   Someone like you in this kind of life? It doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“ Nothing about this world does, Tyler. For any of us.”

“Makes less sense for you. You’re not the kind of person who should be doing this.  You’re way too smart for this shit. You could be out there doing something that actually matters.   Helping people.  Fixing things. Making the world a better place.  But this? This life?  Someone like you shouldn’t be here.  You deserve better than this.  Way better.”

Tilting her head to the side, she regards him intently, fingernails drumming against her glass. “You don’t think any of this matters? What we do?”

“Honestly? Not really, no.”-

“You don’t think we make things better?  You don’t think we help people? Fix things?”

“Not in a way that really makes a difference.”

“It makes a difference to the people that hire us.   They wouldn’t need us if they didn’t need to fix things.”

“You know just as well as I do that not everyone calls us to  ‘fix things’.  Most of the people that hire us? They’re just as big of a dirtbag as the person they want us to get rid of. When was the last time you did a job where the client had a solid reason to ‘off’ someone?  I’m talking about an abused wife who can’t escape her husband,  someone who wants the guy who molested his kid to suffer, a grieving husband that wants revenge on whoever raped or killed his wife. I’m talking about people who actually need help.  Not just hiring us out of spite. or to send a message, or to put the fear of God into someone.  Do you even remember the last time that happened?”

“To be honest, no.”

“You can’t tell me that doesn’t bother you.  Being out there, doing what you do, for absolute fucking dickheads.  You don’t belong here.  And I’m not just talking HERE. In Dhaka. I mean in this life.  You deserve so much better than this.”

“And you don’t?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe that.  You’re not like everyone else, Tyler.  I’ve been around a lot of mercenaries.    I’ve heard the things they talk about;  they gloat about the lives they’ve taken and the ways they’ve taken them. They’re proud of themselves.  They wear other peoples’ blood like badges of honour.   And they expect everyone to be so impressed. To just bow down to them. Idolize them.”

“A lot of people DO.   That’s the problem..”

“It’s gross.  Being like that.  They even use it to try and pick up women. Believe me, I know firsthand. More than one has tried.”

“I bet they learned the hard way that you’re not the type to put up with that shit.”

“Everyone expects me to be so meek and mild.  They take one look at me and think I’m going to be a huge pushover.  And they don’t like when ANY woman sticks up for themselves.  Never mind someone that looks like me.”

“Something tells me a lot of people underestimate you. I know I did.  I’ll admit it.”

“It’s why I’m so good at my job. No one ever expects me to be up to no good. Or be able to hold my own.  It’s not a bad thing.  I mean, it’s kept me alive this long, hasn’t it? Flying under the radar.”

“You’re tough for a little thing, that’s for sure.”

 “I’ve had to be.   I grew up with five older brothers. Only the strong survived in that house.”

“Jesus Christ.  That many brothers? Did they wait on the front porch while you were out on dates?  Threaten to bury the bodies somewhere they’d never be found if guys even thought of messing with you?”

“Dates?” Laughing, she sips at her beer.  “What dates? Like guys even knew I existed.”

“Yeah, right.  I’m sure all the boys knew you existed.”

A blush once more creeps into her cheeks,  eyes sparkling as a grin stretches from ear to ear. “And you say you have no game.”

****

It’s shortly after midnight when they begin their stroll of the hotel grounds; not ready to retire for the night.  And while he sips at a bottle of water in hopes of softening the effects of the booze and warding off the potential hangover,  she eats chocolate ice cream out of a paper cup; purchased from a street cart just metres from the front entrance.   

She feels warm and giddy; a mixture of the alcohol consumed and the immense attraction to the tall, strong, blue-eyed Australian who walks alongside her.    Finding herself consumed by a powerful combination of intrigue and lust; eighteen months without experiencing the touch of another human has her responding to even the simplest and most innocent of touches.   Vividly aware of the weight of his hand as it rested on the small of her back; safely and protectively leading her through the crowded bar and towards the exit.   She enjoys how he places a hand on her hip and gently pulls her closer to make way for other hotel guests on the winding path.  And it’s almost uncomfortable; that familiar, intense ache that builds deep within the pit of her stomach. Immensely attracted to not only the rich, deep tone of his voice and his much larger and stronger presence but also the smell of perspiration and cologne or body wash that clings to his skin and clothes.

“So what else do you know?” Tyler asks.   “Just how deep did you dig?”

“I kept it pretty superficial.   Once I saw you didn’t have an extensive criminal record…”

“Drunk and disorderly.  I was nineteen.   And stupid.”

“...I figured I didn’t need to turn over too many stones.  I know that when you weren’t on active duty, you were stationed all over Europe;  mostly doing diplomatic security jobs.  Prague,  Lucerne, Vienna, Brussels,  Berlin.    All of those are a pretty long way from Australia.”

“You find out any personal stuff? Other than my drunken brush with the law?”

“Just what DID you do to get arrested?  Or is that top secret? Will you have to kill me if you tell me?”

“Not if you promise never to tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“And it’s not top secret.  Just embarrassing.”

Esme stares up at him in wait, spoon poised against her lips)

“I pissed on the side of a cop car. Then threw up in it after they cuffed me and tossed me in the back.”

“Oh…” Eyes widening, she pops the serving of ice cream in her mouth. “...yeah…that is a little…embarrassing.”

“If you laugh, I just may have to kill you.”

“I’d be laughing with you, not at you.”

“Yeah…”  He chuckles. “... sure you would.”

“I guess you were kind of a lightweight back then, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ve had my own humiliating experiences. That involve  alcohol and vomit.”

“Is that one of the things I get to find out if I behave myself?  Play my cards right?”

“Maybe,” she sing-songs, then offers him the cup of ice cream,  to which he refuses with a shake of his head.  “I have a confession to make.  I DID try and dig a bit deeper. When it comes to personal stuff.  The SASR keeps  that shit locked up tight, though;  even my spying and hacking skills couldn’t get past them.”

“You know, you could have just waited to ask me. I would have told you whatever you wanted to know.”

“I wasn’t sure how well received being nosy straight to your face would be.  I thought it would just be easier;  save me a lot of humiliation when you got all bent out of shape and told me to ‘fuck off’.”

“That never would have happened. I probably would tell other people that, but you…”

“So it’s okay, then? To ask? Personal stuff?”

“What’s the worst that could happen? I just won’t answer. “

“There ARE a couple of things I’m curious about,” she admits, and briefly steps away; tossing her spoon and container into a nearby garbage bin before returning to his side.  “PERSONAL things.”

“Alright…”

“And if I’m totally overstepping, just tell me.  You don’t have to spare my feelings. If I’m  being too much of a nosey bitch, just say it.”

“Well, I might be a little nicer than that,” he teases.  “What do you want to know?”

“Why were you honourably discharged?  You’d served ten years;  you were well-decorated and respected, you’d taken part in almost a dozen tours, your superior officers had nothing but amazing things to say on all your performance reviews.  And then things just went bad. So suddenly.   What…?”

“Life just fell apart. During my last trip to Kandahar.  I fucked up my back pretty bad and instead of having it taken care of when I got home, I started drinking all the time and taking way too many Oxy’s.  I was a mess.  I became a liability instead of an asset.  So they cut me loose before things got worse.”

“They didn’t even give you a chance?  To turn things around? Clean yourself up?”

“I was pretty much a lost cause.  There were other things;  shit going on at home that was pretty messy.”

“Family stuff, you mean? I’m assuming you had one. A family.”

“I did. I had a wife.”

“Things just didn’t work out or…?”

“We’d been having problems.  For a few years.  We’d talked about getting divorced more than once;  just cutting ties and moving on with our lives.   We jumped into things;   we were both lonely and looking for a quick fix.   Neither of us was getting any younger; we both wanted a family and were  tired of looking around for ‘the one’.”

“You know, I stumbled upon a quote once. About how  ‘it’s easier to think  you’re in love than it is to accept that you’re alone’.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“I don’t remember.  I probably read it somewhere.  Or heard it on a TV show. But it’s true.  I’ve been there.  Sounds like you have too.”

He nods.

“Did you end up having a family?  Any kids?”

“I had a son.”

“Past tense? HAD? What…?”

“He died a few years ago.”

“Oh god…shit…fuck. I am sorry. I didn’t…”

“There’s no reason to feel bad. And you definitely don’t need to apologize.  You didn’t know any of that happened.”

“Still, it makes me feel like a shitty person.  Being as nosy as I am.  I didn’t mean anything by it; I was prying with the best intentions, not the worst ones. Had I known that you went through something like that, I never would have gotten so personal.”

“I told you it was okay. To ask personal shit. I kinda saw this coming.”

“You should have just said no; when it came to answering personal stuff.  Or just told me to mind my own goddamn business. You wouldn’t have hurt my feelings. Well, maybe a little bit, but…”  She playfully digs an elbow into his side. “...I would have gotten over it.”

“I already said it’s okay.  I’m fine with it; you asking me shit like that and answering it.  There’s nothing for you to feel bad about. Or sorry for. If there were, I’d let you know.”

“Nik warned me; that you could be brutally honest at times. And that you tended to be a little…prickly.”

“She said that?”

“Well, she wasn’t as nice about it.  I guess she just wanted me to be prepared.  She said you weren’t always the easiest person to be around.  That you’re used to working alone.  So you might not be so open to the idea of me tagging along.”

“I wasn’t,” he admits.  “At first, anyway.”

“And now?”

“Now I think I can at least tolerate you.”

She laughs at that. Liking the way his hand finds the small of her back when she gives a small, drunken stumble; offering no objection when his palm slides to her hip. And stays there.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry.  About your little boy. It’s a horrible thing to go through; losing a child. Probably every parent’s worst nightmare.”

“You’re a parent?  You’ve got kids?”

“No.  I have a lot of nieces and nephews, though.  And I did come close. Sort of. To having a baby.  I was barely into the second trimester when things went wrong.”

“Now it’s my turn to apologize. And feel like an asshole.”

“Oh, god. Don’t.” She places a hand on the middle of his back, rubbing in slow, reassuring circles.  “It was a hell of a thing to go through and the entire experience nearly broke me, but in hindsight? Considering just how evil my ex-husband ended up being? Losing that baby really was for the best.  I know that probably makes me sound like a horrible person.”

“No. It makes you sound like an honest one.”

“It would have been a disaster; having a baby with him.   Not to mention totally unfair;  no kid should ever have to live in a house like that.”

“He was that bad, huh?”

“There are no words to describe just how bad.  And because I’d rather not ruin our night, it’s probably best I don’t get any further with this.  Or he’ll end up being the next name on your hit list. I’m pretty sure of it.”

“Sounds like he’d deserve it.”

“I won’t lie; it would give me a sense of satisfaction…and closure…if someone handed him his ass.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing lined up after this job.  If you’ve got his address, we can head there right away.  I don’t mind putting my foot up his ass. Or in his teeth.  Or both.”

“As much as I appreciate you wanting to defend my honour, I think it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.  He’s someone else’s problem now.  Which means for the first time in a long time, I get to live.  How I want. I’m finally able to just…breathe.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I’m willing to teach him a lesson. Free of charge.”

“Don’t tempt me. I just may take you up on that one day.”

“I’d ask for details…about your ex and the shit he did…but something tells me I really would fly into a homicidal rage.”

“You seem like the protective type. Not that that’s a bad thing, believe.  Some of us have never had someone like that in our lives.  And I’d tell you. About him and the things he did.  If I was ready for that kind of thing. And believe me, that’s not a slight against you. In any way.  I’m just not there yet.  Mentally.  I haven’t quite reached that kind of head space yet.  I will, though.  Eventually.”

“You know where to find me.  When you’re ready.”

“Is that permission to just show up on your porch? A second time? Just walk right up to your front door, totally unannounced?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t turn you away, that’s for sure.”

A furious blush creeps into her cheeks, rapidly spreading to her ears and the back of her neck. And she grins up at him as her hand moves to his hip, playfully squeezing  “Be careful what you wish for, Tyler Rake.”

*****

Instead of retiring to their rooms,  they sit on the edge of the hotel pool.  He can’t remember the last time he’d just ‘hung out’ with someone of the opposite sex; his relatively non-existent social life consisting of camping and hunting trips with old military buddies and the occasional one-night stand.  

He finds it easy being with her;  she’s refreshingly optimistic and bubbly,  and unapologetically assertive;  confident in her skills and abilities, the mercenary world somehow not destroying her view of the world and the people that inhabit it.   Her honesty and openness encourage him to follow suit;   allowing him to carry on with light-hearted and intense conversations, and feel completely comfortable in his skin while doing so. 

 It’s a mixture of that comfort, the booze he’d consumed, and his immense physical attraction to her that had him unable to resist; not arguing when she’d grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the pool. Nor when she kicked off her shoes, rolled up her pants, put her feet in the water and invited him to do the same.

“So is it my turn now?” Tyler inquires. “To ask the personal stuff?”

“I’ve already told you my deepest and darkest secrets.  About my ex-husband and his bullshit,  how I lost a baby.  How much more personal can you get?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of normal, everyday stuff.  Whatever makes you, you .”

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re willing to tell me.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly had the most exciting life.  I was born and raised in Colorado; a little sparrow fart town named Snowmass, about half an hour from Aspen.  I’m the baby of the family and the only girl. I came as a complete surprise. And believe me, my mother has never let me forget it.”

“You think she’d be happy; having a little girl after all those boys.”

“You’d think.  But I was an ‘oops’ and she reminds me every chance she gets.  Needless to say, we don’t exactly get along.  I avoid her like the plague.”

“What about your dad? He still around?”

“He died when I was seventeen.  I do have a step-father though; he and my mom got married less than a year after my father died. Which I wouldn’t have been too pressed about, had he not been a friend of my dad’s for over forty years.”

“That’s kind of fucked up.  Your mum stooping that low.”

“Her bullshit knows no bounds.  My stepdad isn’t a bad guy; he was good to me and supported me through the last year of high school and was the only one cheering me on through university and when I joined the corps. And he did give me a sister.    Riley.  She just turned nineteen.  She’s the only one I do miss. Out of the entire family.”

“You’re not close to your brothers?”

“Not really.  They’re all a lot older than I am.  Except for Kyle.  He’s a firefighter. In Denver.  We have a love/hate relationship.  One minute we’re best of friends, the next we want to strangle each other.  He does my mother’s bidding; spies on me every chance he gets,  always gets on my ass about something, and reports every little detail about my personal life back to the wicked witch of the midwest. It’s why I fly under the radar;  use a phone that can’t be traced, change my IP address every time I email someone back home, use a post office box instead of giving my address.”

“Your mum’s that bad, huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly.  She’s an acquired taste.  And that’s putting it nicely.”

“Sounds like your mum and my old man would get along great.”

“I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy. Unless your dad is a gigantic piece of shit just like her.”

“That’s something else I’ll have to tell you about. When I’m ready.”

“Already thinking about the future, are you?” Esme teases, playfully nudging his arm with her elbow. “Are these heart-to-hearts going to happen the next time I just randomly show up on your doorstep?”

“Maybe I’ll just randomly show up at yours. If Nik will give my address away, yours isn’t safe either.”

“You don’t have to go that extreme.  You can have my address.  Something tells me you’re one of the few people I can trust with that kind of info.”

“Where do you live? Where is home?”

“Prague.  I have a little apartment not far from The Vltava River.  I spend a lot of time down there;  reading, writing, meditating. Sometimes I even go running. When I’m not being lazy.   It’s my happy place; being near the water.   I always feel so calm. Relaxed. Grounded.”

“How’d you go from Colorado to the Czech Republic? There’s a lot of miles in between.”

“I ended up in New York City first.  After my marriage fell apart.  I ended up doing some freelance work.  I wasn’t tied to just one handler; I  could do whatever job I wanted, with whoever I wanted.  And the money was good.  Very good, actually.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Why do any of us leave?”

“Usually ‘cause we cross the wrong people.”

“One too many bridges burned,” she laments. “ I had worn out my welcome in The Big Apple, so I decided to just take off. Start a new life somewhere else.  And I’d always been fascinated by Prague. Since I did a project on it in grade eight geography.  I’d fallen in love with the people, the scenery, the architecture.  I didn’t have anything holding me back, so I just left.  Found a little place there and that was that.”

“How the hell did you end up crossing paths with Nik?  If you’d left the life behind when you took off from the States…”

“G got the ball rolling.  He’s married to my cousin; one of the only family members who knows what I actually do for a living. I was getting bored sitting around doing nothing and I knew I wouldn’t be happy in a normal nine-to-five, so I put the word out.  That I was looking for work.  G mentioned his boss needed an intel person and he arranged the time and date for Nik and I to meet. And that was that. She had a job for me in forty-eight hours and I’ve been working for her ever since.”

“I still don’t understand how the fuck someone like you gets caught up in a world like this.”

“How did you get caught up in it?”

“I asked you first.”

“Well, technically you didn’t actually ask. Not this time anyway.”

Tyler smirks.

“I warned  you I can be a bit much.”

“And I already told you:  I  enjoy a challenge.”

“I’ve scared away many a man in my time. Most can’t handle me.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “ I’m not most men.”

“No.  You certainly aren’t.  You’re a breath of fresh air, that’s for sure. Especially in this circle.”

“You probably won’t be saying that in a couple of months. If you last that long. I tend to scare people away too.”

“Intentionally, or..?”

“Sometimes.”

“You haven’t scared me away.”

“I’ve been making an effort not to.”

“Just so you know,  I don’t get intimidated. And I don’t frighten easily.  I’ve gone up against a lot of bad people. Who have done some pretty terrible things.  And lived to tell about it.”

“Everybody meets their match eventually.”

“I don’t think you’re it.  Not in a bad way, anyway.”

“You’re pretty straightforward, aren’t you.”

“I may look meek and mild, but you’ll learn pretty quick that I’m anything but.”

“Remember earlier? When you told me to be careful what I wish for? I think you should be taking your own advice.”

“You know what I think?” Leaning into him, she rests her chin upon his shoulder, then reaches out to place her hand on his cheek. The pressure and slight bite of her fingernails encouraging him to turn his face into hers. “I think you need to learn that I don’t listen to any man.”

*****

When they finally decide to retire for the night, the amount of alcohol consumed and its lingering effects have peaked.  For him it’s a calm and warmth that encompasses his entire body yet still manages to loosen his lips; sharing stories of childhood surfing lessons,  his love for playing the guitar, and a talent for drawing that he hasn’t explored in over twenty years.  For her it’s an amplified giddiness;  excitedly talking about snowboarding in Aspen, her love for New York City, Central Park,  the loft apartment she’d once owned in Queens, and her childhood dream of owning a bookstore. 

Instead of being annoyed by her incessant chattering,  he finds himself completely enthralled by her; captivated by her infectious, bubbly personality, and the deep-rooted intelligence that always lingers just under the surface.   It’s a two-fold attraction that he hasn’t experienced in over a decade, and certainly not to the depths that he currently finds himself submersed in; enamoured not only by her zest and enthusiasm for life despite the darkness of the world surrounding them, but also the physical attributes she brings to the table. Her petite, seemingly fragile stature, the striking contrast between smooth, pale skin and shimmering dark hair, and a smile that crinkles the bridge of her nose.  And the sound of her voice and her laugh.  Filling him with amusement and contentment.

They linger in front of her hotel room door; Esme leaning back against it, facing him.

“Thanks for not telling me to fuck off earlier,” she says, as they linger in front of her hotel room door.  “When I found you in the bar. ‘Cause I had a pretty good time.  It was a lot of fun.”

“It was.  Surprisingly.”

“I hope pleasantly, at least.”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.”  It’s a statement, not a question.  “Since you just kicked back and relaxed.”

“I do have friends you know.”

“War buddies?”

“In more ways than one.”

“And there’s Nik,” she points out. “And Yaz.”

“They’re colleagues.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Nik sees me as a commodity. And a nuisance.”

“For what’s worth, she worries about you.”

“She told you that?”

“Not in so many words.  I’m just really good at reading people.  I’ve needed to be; my job doesn’t leave any room for misjudgement. Or error.   That’s why I realize that tonight is probably a rarity for you;  just hanging out and chatting. With someone other than your military friends and work buddies.”

“Aren’t we work buddies?”

“Technically in less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be your wife. Your fake one mind you, but still.”

“Do I need to get you a ring?”

“I think we can forgo that formality. Knowing Nik, she has all that covered. All the little details needed to sell things.  Honestly though…”  Leaning back against the door, Esme crosses her arms over her chest. “...this isn’t like you, is it.  The way you were tonight. So friendly and chatty. Especially with a woman.”

“When I want company…when it comes to women…I know where to get it.”

“I’m not talking about sex.  I’m talking about.. this .   The way you were in the bar. And afterwards.  It’s different for you.  I’m different.”

“Just  a bit.”

“Life hasn’t been kind to you. And you definitely haven’t been kind to yourself.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re a shrink and this is all just a bunch of bullshit.  This job.  Maybe there’s some kind of intervention about to happen. Nik brought you on to talk some sense into me.”

“I’m not a shrink. Or a therapist.  I’m just someone who takes the time to see other people. Really see them.  And I see you.”

“I’m almost scared to ask.”

“You’ve isolated yourself.   You keep your distance.  You don’t like to get close to people.”

“Everyone who gets close to me gets hurt. One way or another.”

“Not intentionally. On your part.”

“It’s just easier this way; not letting anyone get too close. I don’t get a chance to fuck things up. And they don’t get a chance to see how big of a mess I really am.”

“I think I’ve figured that part out.  I think I figured it out the second I met you.  It was in your eyes.  There’s a lot of hurt there.  You carry a lot.”

“I’ve got broad shoulders.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to do it all by yourself.”

“Remember what I told you? About being careful what you wish for?”

“I’m not some meek and mild little girl. I have dealt with messier than you, trust me.   You’re not the monster you think you are, Tyler.”  Placing her hands on his chest, she perches herself on her tiptoes; bravely brushing her lips against his jaw).“ Thank you.  For walking me here. Making sure I got back safe and sound.”

“I know I’m an asshole, but not I’m not that big of one.”

“Well, for an asshole, you were a perfect gentleman.  Maybe when all this is over and we’re far away from here, we can do it again.”

“I’d like that.” 

His response surprises him; knowing it’s against his better judgement.  The rational side of his brain is screaming at him to walk away;  eager to spare her weeks or months -maybe even years- of wasting her time on him.   But the attraction is too great;  he’s crippled by those enormous dark eyes,  that soft, playful smile,  and that flirtatious tilt to her head as she peers up at him.  It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to want this profoundly and deeply. Years spent filling his nights with random hookups he felt no real connection to; just warm bodies used for physical satisfaction.   But this is different;  going far beyond the basics of lust and hunger and need.  And it both confuses and scares the shit out of him.

Reaching up, she trails a fingertip across his cheek.  “Goodnight, Tyler.”

“‘Night, Esme.” 

 While she turns towards her room, he waits;  wanting to make sure she’s safe inside with the door bolted before leaving.  Suddenly hyper-aware of the things occurring around him;  the smell of coconut and honey that lingers on her skin,  the oppressive humidity that causes droplets of sweat that bead at her temples and glisten on her shoulders, and the tendrils of hair that flutter in the breeze and brush against the nape of her neck.  He’s unable to resist;  reaching out to brush away those loose strands,  his calloused fingertips gliding across soft, smooth skin.   And he feels the way she shivers under his touch,  hears her sharp intake of breath followed by a long, airy sigh, and sees the goosebumps that invade her flesh.

She again turns to face him, her back pressed against the door. “Look, I don’t normally do this kind of thing. I’m not the type to form connections, either.  Especially with people I work with.  And I just want you to know that I  don’t make it a practice to hook up with mercenaries.   I didn’t want you thinking that…”

“I was thinking anything .  Nothing bad, anyway.”

“And I know this is going to come across as really bold and I hope what I’m about to say won’t make you think of less of me.”

“Esme…”

“But do you want to come in for a little while? Or a long while? I mean, that’s entirely up to you.  How long you last for.  Oh… fuck…”   Her eyes widen in embarrassment; a blush creeping into her cheeks and spreading to the tips of her ears. “...that is not what I meant.   What I meant was ‘stay for’.  How long you want to stay for.”

He chuckles. “I know what you meant. And yeah, I’d like that.  I’d like that a lot .”

She gives a sigh of relief and an awkward laugh. “I was really nervous there for a second.  Like I said, I don’t normally do things like this; pick up guys in bars, or mess around with people I work with. Not to mention I do not handle rejection well.”

“I have a hard time believing anyone would turn you down.”

She continues her nervous rambling. “Honestly, had you told me to go and get fucked and not in the sexy, fun way? I probably would have gone inside and cried myself to sleep. And then totally disappeared off the face of the earth.  Not even Nik would have been able to track me down; I would have gone completely off the grid and..”

Laying a hand on the nape of her neck, he pulls her into him,  effectively silencing her with a kiss.  Desperate and needy; his fingers pressing into soft, delicate flesh as his tongue hastily pushes its way into her mouth.  Both hearing and feeling the sigh that she releases;  her body leaning into his as her arms wrap around her torso and she eagerly responds.  

She’s breathless when it’s over; her eyes remaining closed as her head falls upon his chest and the world seems to spin around her. Her feet are numb; her knees impossibly weak as her body relies on his to keep her on her feet.  It’s been a long time since she’s been kissed like that.  If she ever really has.  Both finding and losing herself at the hands of a strong and confident man; someone who knows exactly what…and who he wants.  Possessing a skill and finesse despite the hunger and urgency;  his mouth a fervent captor, hers a willing and submissive prisoner.  A kiss so intense and demanding that it felt like she was being claimed.  Yet somehow still possessing a remarkable tenderness that lingers under the bruising aggression.  

As her eyes flicker open, her hands find her chest; palms flat against solid muscle.   “That was…” She lets loose a long, shaky breath; a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she peers up at him.  “... nice .”

“Yeah…”  His hand slips from the nape of her neck;  his eye fixated on her full, moist lips as his knuckles graze along the smooth curve of her jaw. And he’s unsure what exactly causes the change of heart;  the aching and longing that suddenly surpasses the simple need for sexual gratification or the way her eyes -influenced by both alcohol and lust- sparkle up at him.    There’s so much caught up in how she looks at him;  a mixture of hunger, want, and unwavering trust.   

It’s been a long time since anyone had displayed that kind of faith in him. And he’d single-handedly destroyed both it and them .   

“Let’s go inside.” Her hands slide slowly down his chest and sides, lingering at the bottom of his simple black t-shirt before turning towards the door. “We can…”

“Wait…” His fingers curl around a slender wrist before she can fish the keycard from her pocket..  “…Esme…”

“Wait?” She laughs as she turns to face him.  “Are we capable of waiting? After a kiss like that? ”

“I can’t do this.  I can’t…”

Cocking her head to the side, she frowns up at him.  “What do you mean you can’t? Less than thirty seconds ago, you were more than ready, willing, and able.  So…”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Or that I don’t want you .  This just isn’t a good idea; mixing business with pleasure. Things will get messy; we won’t concentrate on what we’re supposed to be doing and shit will go wrong and the kid will suffer ‘cause of it.”

“That’s bullshit.  And both you and I know it.”

“Things will go wrong. Eventually.  They might be good at first…”

“I’m not asking for a commitment here.  I’m not expecting you to put a ring on it; marry me and father my children and spend always and forever with me. I just thought that we…”

“I  can’t do it.  I’m sorry.  I want to. Believe me, I do. But I just can’t .”

“Tyler…” She reaches for him; fingertips brushing against the fabric of his shirt before he backs away. 

“You deserve better than this.  Better than me .” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t…”

“ I didn’t mean for it to get this far.  And normally I wouldn’t run away. I’d take you up on things and…”

“Then just do it. Ignore whatever’s going on in your head. Just…”

“Goodnight, Esme.”  Skimming his knuckles along her cheek, he hooks a finger under her chin and tilts her face towards him; lips grazing hers before backing away.  “I really am sorry.”

“Tyler, you don’t have to go. You can stay.  We don’t have to do anything.  We can just hang out. Talk.  You can even sleep in the extra bed. We don’t have to…”

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

With a heavy, disappointed sigh, she leans back against the door; her arms crossed over her chest as she’s relegated to watching him walk away.  His chin tucked into his chest and his shoulders slumped;  hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans as he limps off into the night.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Oooooooh...I love it when you open requests!!! Can I please Tyler Rake with prompt number 12! Thank you🤩😍

Hey mate! Of course, you can :) Sorry it took a while!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

"Keep those legs spread nice and wide, baby. Yeah, fuck. You look so hot."

SInking himself back into your splayed, needy cunt, he fills you slowly, watching his many inches vanish within you, your walls fluttering around him. You love it, of course, you do, feeling him breech you in slow trawl time and time again, sending little shocks skittering over your bones, but you crave something a little different.

"Lie on your back," you instruct, sitting up, pushing at his chest. "Wanna ride my man's big cock for a bit."

He looks tempted by your proposal, even pondering for a few seconds, his hand then curling around your neck and pushing you back to the bed below. “You ain’t demanding me. I’m the one in charge here.”

Oh, well. The idea was there. Continuing taking orders from Tyler isn't exactly unwelcome either. Far from it, in fact.

[prying-pandora666]

On Alucard and Maria

Are there actually fans advocating for Alucard to be written as Maria’s father figure in the new season of Nocturne? Like that would be a good thing and not infinitely creepier? I don’t think they’ve thought this through.

Alucard is the single most popular character in the franchise. He’s also probably the most shipped character. And yet he has only had one canon love interest in the decades since he’s existed. It’s Maria. And you’re telling me that you think that because he’s 300+ and she’s 17-18 when they started living together in the games, that it would be grooming. However, somehow him inserting himself into her life at age 16 when she’s just lost both her parents wouldn’t come off like grooming!?

Does this man look like he should be picking up random children!? He’s literally terrified of his own cursed blood. Maybe LISTEN TO HIM.

I’m convinced fandoms have forgotten what that word means. Grooming has specific features. It doesn’t just mean “older guy and younger girl.” A relationship with an age gap or an uneven power dynamic can be exploitative or abusive without being a case of grooming. Grooming specifically refers to the process of forming a relationship with a child with the intention of leveraging that relationship and trust to train and prepare (aka brainwash) your victim for the harmful activities the groomer wants to normalize. The relationship Alucard and Maria have in the games is in no way grooming. You know what would be grooming though?

Coming into a 16 year old’s life when she’s vulnerable, traumatized, and recently orphaned only to insinuate yourself as a new father figure. This is so highly inappropriate and a huge red flag. Consider what you’re actually asking for here. These characters do not exist in a a vacuum. They have a long history together as each other’s only canon love interests. You cannot fully extract them from the games, art, interviews, audio dramas, animations, and more where they’re depicted as a couple. There are decades of this precedent and you are asking Netflix to knowingly take the characters with an established romantic dynamic that the audience is already primed to see as romantic and instead portray their meeting as him trying to be her new daddy?

“Oh look! Alucard and his… daughter? Yikes.” This is an official advertisement btw.

THAT is grooming! Think about the optics of this! It would be abysmal! No it would NOT fix the problem of their age gap to make him act like a groomer and get in good with her as a dad. You just cannot completely extract them from the legacy of their relationship in the source materials. It will be incredibly creepy and textbook grooming if you get your way.

Is this really what you want to associate with an “adoptive father Alucard”? Because the art we create doesn’t exist in a vacuum. All the old content—official and fanmade—is still going to exist.

What is so objectionable about the original dynamic anyway? It’s a pretty fun subversion of the tired and problematic vampire trope of “vampire man stalks teen girl and coerces her into being his”. Instead in their original relationship, Maria is the one who pursues Alucard! It’s the young woman who takes initiative and is given the agency to go after what she wants. She courts and woos him. That’s part of the fun!

Yes, Alucard is 300+. He’s also a fictional creature that doesn’t actually exist IRL and stays eternally young. There are no actual people who will ever have his problem of staying 20 forever so it’s rather silly to say he can’t date any humans because of course he will have an age gap with any of them.

The only real problem I have seen people bring up is Maria’s age, but from what I can tell, the show’s already fixed this. Check it out.

In The Games

Rondo of Blood: Maria is 12. She and Alucard do not meet. Richter is a brother-figure and not romantic.

There is then a 5 year time skip.

Symphony of the Night: Maria is 17. She and Alucard meet to save Richter. At the end, Alucard says his goodbyes and intends to return to a life of solitude. Maria goes after him because she has developed feelings for him and doesn’t want him to suffer a life alone.

Maria is given agency to pursue what she wants and prove herself even against Alucard’s resistance and hesitance to let another person into his life.

They spend a year together before we get the audio drama.

Nocturne of Remembrance: Maria continues to try to get close to Alucard. They end up saving each other’s lives and in the end he finally confesses his romantic feelings for her. She is an adult and perfectly able to make her own choices. She chose him. He admits he returns her feelings.

How fandom can look at a story about a young woman subverting the trope and chasing the vampire to get what she wants—basically an anti-Bella Swan—and still find a way to disempower her just so they can pearl clutch? I couldn’t tell you.

So now let’s look at what the show did.

In The Show

Nocturne S1: Maria is 16. She’s been aged up from 12, probably to give her a more active and believable role. But this also means she’s within a normal age to start feeling attraction and expressing her wants. Within her society, she’s even considered of marriageable age. However we are spared the discomfort of our modern values clashing with her contemporaneous ones because Maria in this season isn’t interested in romance. She’s interested in revolution, equality, justice. They’ve portrayed her with so much love and strength. There is no indication they’d betray her by writing her as the child victim of a male suitor. In fact she only meets Alucard in the final few seconds of the season and the two do not even speak a single word to one another.

Now let’s remember the games had a five year time skip. The show only needs two years to get Maria to the adult age of 18, but assuming the follow through with the timeline and go for the full five?

Maria will be 21.

21.

Fan concept for adult Maria. Credit:@esp-art

Are you telling me a 21 year old woman is not old or mature enough to make her own decisions? How is this not a total infantilization of women? Do you think a 21 year old badass vampire hunter needs protection from the ace depressed dhampir boy who just wants to sleep and has in no way tried to pursue her until after she expressed consistent and persistent interest in him?

It is not “grooming” to meet someone when they were younger and then meet them again years later as an adult. That’s a thing that happens! In real life! Adults can still make decisions for themselves! It is only grooming if Alucard behaved in a way that would manipulate teen Maria and put her under his control and authority before she can consent. There is no indication that Alucard in the show is going to do this. And yet the fandom is basically demanding it by saying he should make her “his baby girl”?

And what of Maria’s feelings in all this? She just lost her mother and was betrayed by her father shortly after discovering he even existed. She has lived her whole life without a father. She is in no desperate need of a new one. And if she does need a family member, she already has one! Richter is 19 and is her trusted adoptive brother. Why wouldn’t she go to him over a total stranger she just met and who is half vampire - literally a predator creature that feeds on humans!?

Yeah, hi, Richter Belmont still exists. He and Maria consider each other family. Why would you want her relying on a strange man she just met as a “father figure” rather than her trusted and loving brother?

Have none of you even considered how Maria would feel if Alucard even tried to fill the paternal role? He’d have to force it on her through manipulation and coercion. No way she would want to view him that way. Especially considering she is 16 and likely to be as attracted to the sparkly 20 year old looking sculpted marble beauty as anyone else!

Don’t mind the beautiful eternally young man who looks made of pure porcelain and light. No teen girl has ever been attracted to this, right? No way it could be exploitative and creepy for him to present himself as her new daddy, giving himself authority and influence over her as his child to mold as he wishes, right? Oh yeah, this is MUCH better than Maria pursuing him of her own volition once she becomes an adult, right guys?

We are truly in the stupidest dark timeline.

Frankly, I don’t care if Netflix has them get together or not. They would work just fine as friends too. I just sure as hell hope they’ll ignore the fans clamoring for a creepy daddy/daughter dynamic. Dressing it up as “concern” won’t hide that for some it’s a fetish, and for others they’re just useful idiots who haven’t thought it through.

I implore you to think it through.

[stellar-solar-flare]

Warmth | S. R. | oneshot

Mature | Steve Rogers x Chronically Ill Reader

I’ll take care of you, he had said then. I love you. I always will. On the bad days and the good ones.

AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AUTHOR AO3

Established relationship, married couple, romance, fluff & hurt/comfort, angst with a happy/hopeful ending. Reader is good friends with Bucky and Nat.

Word Count: 1,771 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her. Mid-to-late twenties. Has a chronical illness that causes pain and fatigue, no specific diagnosis mentioned. Married to Steve. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

Warnings: Themes of chronic pain & illness, and the feelings that such conditions may cause, including self-worth and self-esteem issues.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

You get close.

The base of the batter is done, butter and chocolate melted, instant coffee and sugars mixed into it, milk and eggs and vanilla extract poured into the bowl. The kitchen of the Tower floor you and Steve share is downright indulgent, spacious enough that you can spread everything out and you try to work fast enough before being up becomes too much to bear. You manage to ignore the nagging tingling of your body, the slow burning that goes in waves from knees all the way to your chest.

You grind your teeth, focus on the task at hand.

Just as you’re about to start sifting in the flour-cocoa mixture, the first red-hot knife sinks into your stomach. You yelp, even as you knew it was coming, and with the second strike of the blade, you drop down to crouch next to the kitchen counter, squeezing the edge of the counter with both hands, fingers cramping from the grip.

Eyes closed, you wait as the pain drums through your body with every heartbeat, nerves aflame with lightning, muscles contracting and releasing. You try to breathe through it, squeeze your eyelids together to keep the tears at bay.

That’s where Steve finds you.

It doesn’t alarm him like it used to; he no longer drops a bag of groceries down when he sees you like this. Instead, he sets it gently down next to the fridge and steps closer, kneeling down on the floor next to you. His warm palm slides over the back of your dress.

“You were supposed to rest, darling,” he scolds gently.

You glare at him with tear-filled eyes, but the anger melts away when you see the worry on his face. That has stayed, even as he has learned that anything like this is not inherently dangerous.  

“I wanted to bake. I was craving mud cake and the store-bought just never hits the right spot.”

“I would’ve baked for you,” he sighs.

“I don’t want you to bake for me! I want to be able to do things myself. I want this stupid goddamn body to fucking function like it should be,” you snap, regretting the bite in your voice the second the words have left your mouth.

“I know,” he says. “I know how it is. I know how much it sucks.”

And he does. It is almost impossible to remember that sometimes, after watching footage of him yanking helicopters out of the sky, but once, this was his life  too.

“Yeah, the difference being that you’re no longer pathetic,” you mumble.

“You are not pathetic. It’s just a rough patch,” he says.

He knows where it’s coming from.

You still remember the time you got your diagnosis, how you told Steve that you should break off the engagement, that you didn’t expect him to hitch his wagon to this. You went as far as sleeping on Nat’s sofa for a week, and then Bucky forced himself through the door and sat you down and looked at you with eyes full of Winter Soldier steel.

You really think he can’t take this, huh? If there’s one person who understands how it feels to be in pain and helpless, one person that will know why you’re full of frustration and anger at times, it’s Steve Rogers, he had said.

It’s not about what he can take. It’s about what he deserves, and what I don’t, you had grumbled in response, desperately not trying to show how much you missed sleeping in Steve’s warm arms at night.

So he wasn’t worthy of being loved and taken care of when he was sick and incapacitated and chronically ill? Would you love him any less if the serum fell out of him and he went back to that state?

Of course not. But that’s different.

How’s that different?

Because you are a fucking asshole, Bucky Barnes, you had spat, knowing that to resort to ad hominem was to admit defeat.

Oh, I am, he had grinned. But right now, I am the fucking asshole who is right.

And he had been precisely that. Steve had welcomed you back with open arms, and you had cried against his chest until you had felt like you could breathe again, until the words ‘chronic’ and ‘illness’ didn’t feel like they were sucking all the air out of your lungs.

I’ll take care of you, he had said then. I love you. I always will. On the bad days and the good ones.

You know that. You know Steve Rogers makes no such promises if he doesn’t mean them, but sometimes it isn’t the same to know something on a rational level and accept it emotionally. On some days, you are full of pain-sharpened thorns and god, you just want to prick something that is beautiful, want to wallow in the self-pity and despise any light that tries to reach your darkness.

“Help you to bed?” he asks, and you don’t want to, but you nod nevertheless.

He lifts you up. It’s spring; he’s been out in simply a button-down and slacks, and you can feel his warmth through the cotton as he holds you against his chest. At least this part was easy. At least you knew that taking care of you wasn’t straining his body.

You’ve done what you can to make the apartment into an oasis of peace, and the bedroom is no exception. The bed is huge, filled with soft sheets and a pile of pillows that can be moved to allow you to rest as comfortably as possible. Steve sets you down on your side and sheds the clothes he’s been outside in before getting into bed next to you. You groan at the feeling of his body, covered only by the boxer briefs, pressing against your back, warm and relaxing like a furnace.

“You’re the best heating pad in the world,” you manage to smile, snuggling deeper into his embrace as your muscles start to relax.

He chuckles against your neck and presses a kiss to the back of your neck. Lying down, as much as you hate to admit, always seems to make a wave of relief flow through your body, muscles relaxing. Steve’s palm smooths over your side, stroking again and again, and the relaxation deepens, seeps into every muscle.

“The oven’s on,” you mumble, as he makes no attempt to move. “The groceries you brought are still in the kitchen.”

In response, he rucks up your dress and places his palm over your stomach, and you can’t help but groan at the relief of the warmth.

“I’m on heating pad duty,” he says. “Those can wait.”

You sigh, despite the smile on your face.

“I really thought I had enough spoons. It was better today, until it wasn’t.”

“It’s okay. It’s not always predictable.”

It’s not. And he knows that’s the worst part of it.

“I wanted you to come home to something nice.”

“I come home to you every day.”

“Flatterer,” you say, but despite the words, you entwine your fingers into his on top of your stomach.

Your wedding rings make a small clink when they touch his. It had been a longer engagement than you had initially planned; you had wanted to make sure he wasn’t marrying you just because of duty, just because he felt like he should, now that he knew you were going to battle with this for the rest of your life. He had countered that with the argument that he had proposed to you even before he had known anything about this, when your illness had still masked itself into bouts of tiredness.

He had convinced you. Your wedding portrait, Steve lifting you up and spinning you around, hangs above your bed, and even on the worst of days, looking at it brings a smile to your face.

Bucky had cried through the entire ceremony.

“Do you want me to get your meds?” Steve asks.

“I already took them; can’t take more right now. Lot of good that did.”

“Hey,” comes the whisper against your neck.

The tears that have barely dried escape your eyes again. Steve feels you tense and kisses the back of your neck again, the hand on you pulling you closer against him.

“I feel so useless,” you say. “Everyone’s so nice to me; I’m everyone’s stupid charity project.”

He has heard all of this before; this conversation comes every time you are going through a rough patch, and every time, his answers are full of patience and love.

God, what have you done to deserve him?

“Or they’re your friends – our friends. They like you. You are more than this, even though it doesn’t feel like that right now. You are plenty of things outside this illness. And I love you, for reasons that have nothing to do with whether or not you’re useful.”

“And you’re the stubborn dumbass who married himself into this mess.”

“I’m definitely both,” he says. “But neither of those have anything to do with the fact that I married you. And the doctor told you to rest, so who’s the stubborn one here?”

“Hypocrite,” you say. “Bucky has certainly told me how good you were at resting up, huh?”

You hear the chagrinned laugh and know the expression on his face. He mumbles something about how he really needs to get Bucky to stop telling stories about his youth to you, if they are just going to be used against him.

“Too late,” you say.

The tiredness is creeping over you again; being up in the middle of a bad flare-up has taken more out of you than you care to admit, and Steve’s closeness has taken all the bitter fight that had remained after the energy had drained out.

“I know it’s hard to rest when it doesn’t feel like rest is making any difference,” he says. “But you still should.”

You want to fight him, but your eyelids are falling closed as his warmth has filled your every crampy muscle and tight tendon.

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “Sleep well, beautiful.”

“Loveyatoo,” you mumble in response, the safety of his presence nudging you over the edge of consciousness and into sleep.

An hour later, you wake up to the scent of freshly-baked mud cake floating through the apartment and smile into the room, feeling like you could go for a big slice and a nice cup of coffee, sitting across from Steve and listening to him talk about his day.

Even in a rough patch, it’s not all bad.

[pen-and-umbra]

A minor detail effectively drops the bomb. The image of the Goddess portrayed by Jessie during Loveless VR play fits closely to the image of Jenova, Calamity from the skies, as revealed in the holographic sequence during the Temple of Ancients quest.

That touch raises a number of troubling questions. The use of imagery that invites comparisons with the Loveless play appears deliberate. This encompasses both the Goddess and the "children of men," as the Cetra refer to humanity. As such, the appearance of children of men is presented identical to the epic figures of Three Friends from the play.

Is Jenova the "Goddess" whose true nature was merely forgotten or misunderstood by those who came after the Cetra, specifically humans?

The Cetra "narrator" makes an intriguing statement, raising the suspicion that something else is going on. It emphasizes the conflicts between humanity and the Cetra, questioning their nature and finally implying that the animosity between the two races may have been sown by their celestial adversary, Jenova.

In a later portion of the Temple quest, the Cetra refer to their nemesis as "a deceiver," who assumed the identities of others and incited strife and chaos among the Cetra. The statement once again underscores the creature's ability not only to shapeshift and cast illusions, but to sift through minds/memories and extract information it can use against their target.

Eventually Cetra people overcame their enemy. At this point of narration, the vision of a tentacle-wielding Lovecraftian horror changes into the aforementioned image of a Goddess. The "narrator" stresses that the enemy was unable to reunite with the Planet and thus fell into a slumber, debunking previously-held fan ideas that Jenova was brain-dead. Or unintelligent, for that matter.

To connecting the dots. It's not a stretch to say that the so-called Goddess was, potentially, Jenova's means of manipulating children of men (thus the Three Friends imagery) in order to promote division and strife among humans, or between mankind and the Cetra. What sticks out to me is the timing of the transformation: the holographic image of Goddess appears at a point of narration when Jenova is on the verge of defeat or defeated, when the entity is allegedly imprisoned in rock strata and goes into hibernation. Almost as if the “Goddess” is its last ditch resort at manipulating those it could yet deceive, i.e. non-Cetra. This brings up the final and most disturbing question. 

Just what was the Gift of the Goddess? 

Was it but a literary element to the play, a fiction through and through, or was it…a bait? A carefully placed promise of a legendary boon to entice someone susceptible to temptation to come and find the “Goddess” and her Gift... and maybe break Jenova free from wherever the Cetra sealed it, as Ultimania suggests entity's ability to exert influence over those who come into contact with it.

And then there's this:

My friend, your desire

Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess

Legend shall speak

Of sacrifice at world's end

(Loveless, Act IV)

A “bringer of life” — just who or, perhaps, what is being brought to life? One could consider it an embellishment inherent to a poem. One could theorize it to be the fabled gift itself. Or one could say that whoever comes to the "Goddess" in search of a boon quite literary “brings it back to life” by awakening.

On a closing note, perhaps it adds a new spin to the old story. Was Genesis' fixation with finding the Gift of the Goddess solely motivated by desperation, or was there more to it?

[fuckyeahaudiodrama]

🪸 JULY LISTENS 🪸

(ft. some lovely coral for those of us caught up on The Magnus Protocol😌)

this month, i’ve been working through some of the stuff that’s been languishing on my listen list for approximately a million years as well as revisiting some old favorites. here’s what i enjoyed most in my earholes:

G.O.B.L.I.N.S — (pilot, crowdfunding now!) for fans of Stellar Firma, the Meredith brothers have reunited with some other familiar voices to spin a story about an overly ambitious human office worker who gets dragged through the veil into the fae realm by a pair of chaotic goblins. the show is scripted but it’s marked by the same sense of humor that has characterized the Meredith’s other improvised works. 8 episodes projected if it funds.

Larkspur Underground — (11 eps, complete?) a fictional exposé about the sole survivor of a serial killer’s disturbing abduction and grooming. i was giddy to discover this one as an ardent fan of Showtime’s Dexter. it’s gory and glorious, and if you’re keen you might spot some clues; if not, the final episode is going to shock you. creator wants to make more, but it’s been a few years so who knows.

I Found A Wormhole — (5 eps, complete) a short yet existentially harrowing series. exactly what it says on the tin. mind the content warnings on the final episode but by the time you get there you’ll definitely know what’s coming tbh.

The Grotto — (10 eps, ongoing) a pull-no-punches exploration of messy grief with a supernatural twist. season two is here! this series has an absolutely killer soundtrack and immersive sound design. it has such a unique vibe. you’ll definitely like it if you like WOE.BEGONE.

Dear Bastard! — (16 eps, complete?) an epistolary comedy about a bunch of squabbling neighbors. i like to use this show as a palate cleanser when i’ve been listening to a lot of gruesome horror, because it���s just so light and fun.

Deviant — (10 eps, complete) a space pirate dramedy! i stumbled across this purely by accident and did a little binge. i love an absolute mess of a protagonist, so this was right up my alley. it’s a little abrasive at times but overall i enjoyed the narrative and it wrapped up nicely.

Murphy — (6 eps, s2 in production) a folkloric monster-of-the-week mystery with very charming characters. the first season is complete and although it is short, the episodes are long and make great use of their runtime. pleased to see their recent crowdfunder has been successful so there will be more!

Ghost Wax — (45+ eps, hiatus) a horror anthology facilitated by a “reclaimer” who can extract the final statements of the dead. this is similar to How i Died but the lore feels much more fantastically intricate. i don’t want to spoil too much of the meta plot but there’s a LOT going on, and i’m looking forward to s2.

Fulmar’s Folly — (12 eps, ongoing?) people on reddit love this series so i decided to give it a spin. fans of zombie survival like We’re Alive are most likely to eat this up. it can be a little overwrought at times, but the constant tension feels genuine in context. episodes are quite long but the length feels satisfying and necessary.

Nowhere, On Air — (46 eps, ongoing) another spooky small town radio show about a girl in a world she doesn’t belong to. this is one of my favorite genres of AD. fans of WTNV, King Falls AM, Tiny Terrors, and other shows of that ilk will probably enjoy this. it leans a little more surreal and introspective than comedic. IMHO, the host also just has a lovely voice. the meta plot is currently really hitting its stride.

All In My Head — (19 eps, ???) night terrors turn out to be something much more sinister. so intriguing, i was devastated to realize it may have been abandoned. i’m not going to completely give up hope for a final season though!

Zoinks! — (11 eps, complete?) a darkly comedic homage to scooby doo and other childrens detective fiction. i loved the way the narrative approached the subject of child neglect, while still maintaining a thread of silliness that saved it from complete bleakness. s2 has been mentioned but it’s projected release date has come and gone without a word, so it may or may not happen.

Trice Forgotten — (10 eps, ???) an aspiring cartographer gets accidentally mixed up with some pirates. i relistened to this series in honor of its anniversary and was just blown away by the sound design all over again. the setting is made so rich and alive by the effort put in by the production staff! and the character dynamics are so intricate and gorgeous. i am especially a fan of the tension between alestes and gammon. beautiful first season with SO much left to explore, i really hope to see this come back for a s2 someday.

[kitorin]

to you, my lover.

in which, shinonome akito surprises his favourite writer.

contents. shinonome akito x gn!reader, just fluff really, <- might've ruined it with an attempt of crack, unproofread and messy bc i can't think properly anymore a/n. this was supposed to be my birthday fic, i didn't finish it in time and was considering deleting but nah not today

You're tired. Really tired.

It's not a complaint, being permitted to stay out late to celebrate your birthday, now returning on a long yet peaceful and empty train ride. With the occasional rattling, it was silent, with the exception of your tired breathing and the rustle of your clothes every time you shuffled around a bit.

And your boyfriend.

Arms crossed and back leaned against his seat, his eyes remain shut, resting a bit after such a long day. Fatigue pays a visit to you as well, a yawn claws out of your throat, earning an immediate reaction from Akito.

Arm snaking behind your head, he pulls you in by the shoulder, making sure you rest comfortably against his. You snuggle against him, the scent of his cologne makes you crave more of him and his touch. The jacket that was once resting on his lap is thrown over you, and carefully he adjusts it, without moving his shoulder.

"Tired?"

You nod, resting your eyes a bit.

"If you're able to stay awake, I want to give you my gift."

"Excuse me?" As if you weren't ever exhausted in the first place you sit up, staring at him with confusion. "Akito, you bought me pretty much every book on my 'to be read'. Not to mention the promise rings too." Your glance at the silver wrapping around your finger, amber and saffron imbedded into it. "I told you so many times I didn't need anything, let alone something that would've costed so much."

Akito shrugs casually. "There's no such thing as 'too much' when it comes to you."

"And there's a thing called being financially irresponsible..."

"I'm managing my money carefully, I swear." He pledges with breathless laughter. "I assure you it wasn't expensive, I promise. I'm going to give you the world when I go professional, anyways." He fishes for something out of his bag, something small and wrapped with colourful paper.

"This feels like a book." You comment instantly, it's easy to identify when you've received so many for your birthday.

Akito shrugs again in response. "Check it, then."

You oblige to his words, unwrapping the package in a manner that didn't make a mess on the train. Your guess was correct, it is a book. Only this time with an unrecognisable title and author— it didn't have either. It was white, with nothing else.

"Who's the author?"

Another shrug, and you decide not to bother asking anymore questions. You turn to the first page.

Table of contents. This time you recognise the titles.

Because they belong to none other than you.

"You printed it out all of this?" You've re-read your writing constantly, whether it be proof-reading or trying to figure out how to elevate your prose. But when it's in your hands in the form of a book instead of the words you type up on your laptop, it feels surreal, maybe even a bit wrong. It's everything you've sent and shown him, whether it be fan fiction, attempts at poetry, extracts of screenplays, or snippets from future novels you plan on publishing.

"'Course I did. You love books, I love you and your writing." Akito says it all the time, always being the first person to read your works, sending a plethora of text messages about his thoughts on them.

You inspect the contents of the book, and as he said it's all your work. But, pale highlighter adorns the pages, black ink decorating in between lines, hearts and even more words committed to paper.

The imagery here is gorgeous here. I love these words especially ->

Although I can't and don't, I feel like I can relate to this character, the way you express their internal thoughts and actions makes me feel like I've become them

Why is he so adorable?? The dialogue is so sweetly comforting.

I think this one's my favourite. It was super cute. Short and simple but enough to make me smile all day.

You turn to another story, this one with a darker premise.

SHE DESERVES BETTER !!

This hurts so much ╥﹏╥ Internal monologue is a 11/10 (as always)

Uh oh...

PLEASE HAVE MERCY

SCREW YOU SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING

This one's my new favourite. Thanks for making me cry

(my tear stains) Small arrows point towards (formerly) wet patches on the page, the evidence left there shocks you.

"You actually cried? And annotated your tears?" Not once, but multiple times, on each work that connoted anything sad.

"Love, your writing, just like you, makes me feel a lot. It's not often I cry, you know." He leans in to kiss you on the cheek. "Hope my annotations did it some justice."

Each comment makes you smile irresistibly, whether it was a serious paragraph breaking down and analysing specific moments or 'someone cooked here.' being scrawled. No details were missed by him, ones that you assumed were too subtle and therefore unnecessary because no one in your comments noticed them.

"You noticed all of this? None of my friends or readers did."

"Of course I did. I've read everything over and over again and love you too much to miss any of those details."

"And every note at the end is synonymous for 'new favourite'." It's not a complaint, it's quite adorable really, watching him struggle to make up his mind. "You even compiled your favourite quotes at the end? You think my stuff is quoteworthy?"

"How could I not? Heck, I don't think an anthology is enough. I need it tattooed somewhere on me." A gasp severs his words. "I know exactly what I'm going to do on my eighteenth birthday."

"Don't. Think about it." But the prospect of him loving your prose enough to permanently etch it into your skin makes you smile. "But seriously. This is beautiful, thank you." You're not sure why it feels so different, despite Akito always texting you these sorts of comments. Perhaps it was it's physical manifestation that had evoked so much emotion.

"I remember, when I first opened up to you."

And so do you. It was certainly awkward, with a plentiful amount of tears and uncertainty. But in the end you found yourself comprehending Akito and his character more, which was worth any sort of unpleasantries.

"You ended up analysing every song I covered or wrote. And you still do. I kept those notebooks with me, and read them whenever I felt worried. It's you. You're the reason why I can listen to recordings of myself without wanting to hide. Took me a while, but without you I wouldn't've achieved it."

You peer up at him, as he gazes at the train's roof, reminiscing those memories. You had contemplated for so long, wondering whether that act would've truly done anything, whilst worrying about embarrassing yourself. Now, being able to admire the peaceful expression he wore, you can easily say you have no regrets.

"I wanted to do the same for you. I didn't like how you weren't able to see the perfection your writing held." Akito's hand reaches for yours. "I know what it's like. To hate your own art because of what other people say and growing fearful of another's opinion, or how subjectivity doesn't seem to be in your favor. It's suffocating, that's why you mean the whole world to me for freeing me of that insecurity." He bites his lip, a method he relies on to quell any strong emotion.

He's spot on. The words of others are equally as capable of hurting as they are uplifting. It's common advice to not heed any mind to others, but when it comes to writing it always felt necessary to you. No matter how well you wrote to satisfy yourself, it didn't mean anything if no one else liked it; it meant no sales, meaning no money, which only meant that writing was an invalid career for the future unless it pleased others.

Even if it weren't a professional pursuit, it doesn't feel like something one can establish its value, at least, not without the validation of others.

"You were the lens I needed to see the beauty in myself. And I want to be the one you need."

You smile, planting a kiss on his lips. "Think you already are."

Akito sighs with a grin, "Then, I can die happy now."

A playful, gentle, slap hits his shoulder. "Quit being so overdramatic."

"What? Would've been a waste if the best author in the entirety of human history didn't get to see how amazing them and their writing were."

"Now you're just hyperbolising everything."

He pokes you in the cheek. "I see you smiling."

"Because of how ridiculous you are." You thank the train for being empty tonight, otherwise you wouldn't have the freedom of quarreling. "You're an idiot. Sometimes."

"And I still think having one of your quotes tattooed onto me would be a good idea."

Akito's persistent, even when it came to things that appeared to be mere jokes. "That's so random—? No you're not getting any of my writing tattooed onto you."

"Fine, but left pec or right pec?"

"Oh my god." Though you scold him, the rest dissolves into breathless laughter, as he pulls you in for a hug.

He scatters kisses all over your face, as you savour the warmth of his body. "Happy birthday, love."

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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate