#I honestly have to wait until the last minute to see if the plows are doing alright out there

[littleplantfreak]

It’s heavy

Erm its a small thing about wanting to carry Ume’s burdens ig that ive been thinking about (even though i ended up going a whole other direction than i originally daydreamed. When i first thought about it, it was gonna be like stand in the rain dramatic but.)

its sfw and theres no cws i think except it’s kinda spoilery from recent chapters (not in depth tho) Also I read through it once but you know how it goes with proofreading owo)/

"I didn't know it would feel that heavy," Sakura says, mid bite into his lunch.

"Whatd'ya mean?" You swallow your own food before getting a drink. He's talking about Umemiya.

"The resolve to fight. For the town, the people you...love," he grits out the last word, still unused to verbally speaking about affection, but he's been getting better. "The weight of everything on your shoulders makes it hard to move sometimes" Your eyes widen at that. At the change in demeanor since he first came to town. He's really improved since you first met and honestly the change is for the better.

"Is it...a bad feeling?" You wonder, food forgotten now that the conversation has turned serious.

"Not bad, just annoying. And comforting? I don't know how to explain it." He's flushed now, embarrassed by the inability to find the proper words to convey just how it is. It's one of those things you have to feel for yourself to really grasp.

"Exhausting too I bet," you say more to yourself, thoughts suddenly going fully to the white haired man. Two bi-colored eyes look your way as you twirl your fork in your hands thoughtfully. He turns even redder when he sees your dazed look, knowing you're ruminating about Umemiya. You take out your phone, shooting out a text to see where he's at. When he texts back that he's on his way to the cafe from school, you decide you'll meet him halfway, telling Sakura you'll be back in a bit and that he can have your leftovers.

You're jogging really, not caring about pacing yourself when an urge has overtaken you. The anxiety spreads in your chest to your arms and hands, prickling at your fingertips. Nothing's wrong, but at the moment you feel like if you don't see his face soon, you'll never see it again. Logically, you talk yourself down knowing those thoughts are just your brain screwing with you, but the feeling won't go away until you get to him.

The sun warms Hajime’s face as he heads to Kotoha’s, wind blowing the chimes as they clink daintily. He's got an easy walk going, not surrounded by people for once.

The look on his face when he spots you is one of delight, slowly switching to concern from the way you're running towards him, cheeks flushed.

"Hey pumpkin, what's with the running? Somethin' up?" He asks before you plow straight into his chest, arms squeezing around his waist. You shake your head, tightening him in your hold knowing it's not gonna hurt him in the slightest.

"Can I carry it sometimes?" you mumble from his chest after a minute of breathing in his scent, sweat and deodorant mixing into a smell that was so him it calmed the frayed nervous that had been unraveling. When he asks what you'd be carrying, you lift your face to lock eyes with him.

"You? Everything you're carrying? Not all the time, but I don't want you to be the only one shouldering so much weight. I'm not that strong, but," you're suddenly self conscious about it, looking down at your feet for a second before forcing yourself back to look at his face. "but I can do it for you. Whenever you need me to." You finish, waiting on his response. He breathes deep and ponders it for a second, the look on his face a mix of hesitance and adoration at your declaration. For once he’a speechless, but he’s not surprised it’s you who’s rendered him as such.

“…I love you,” he says simply, eyes wide. Like he just rediscovered the fact despite his almost constant mission to let you know that with his words and actions on a daily basis.

“That’s not what-,”

“I know. I know, but I just wanted to say it I think. Or I couldn’t help it.” He kneels down to your level, holding both of your hands in his own, a look of resolve in his cloud grey eyes. “I can try…letting you carry some of it. It’s heavy.”

“That’s fine,” and you release his hands before grabbing his face. “I’ve got you.”

Atlas was punished to hold the weight of the world, but Hajime isn’t Atlas and he has you.

You both drop the subject for a bit, a ghost of the conversation still stays lingering in both of your heads. It's easy to say he'll rely on you like that, but the truth is putting it into practice is remarkably difficult.

He's still wondering how to work this new part of your dynamic when you decide to take the bull by the horns. He wakes up and shoots a text to Hiragi, telling him he'll meet him at the bakery to help paint the new sign, but he receives a text back saying it's been taken care of. Well that clears things up a bit, he thinks. So he goes to Kotoha's knowing she's been needing someone to do a supply run...only to find the first years already carrying the groceries over, and when he tries to help put them away? He's blocked from them, Nirei stuttering that they can handle it on their own.

His sister chimes in, though, that she thinks you really needed help with something over near the park. He thanks her, figuring his two main task for the day were complete, albeit almost immediately without him lifting a finger. By the time he makes his way to you, it seems you've been sitting for a while, passing the time on your phone wearing one of his old hoodies.

"You needed help lovebug?" He's asking, a hand running rough his hair, breath taken at the sight of you. You don't look any way different from any other day, but the feeling he gets in his chest when he sees you has yet to fade and he doesn't think it ever will.

"Yeah. It's a tough job. Think you can help?"

"Anything for you." You can tell by his voice and the look on his face that he means it.

"I want my boyfriend to relax for the day. Do you know how I can make that happen?" Faux innocence filling your expression. A few things click in his head at once. Throughout the week, his schedule seemed to be getting freer and freer no matter how many people he'd heard needed help with something. Every time he checked in with the person, someone had already taken care of it vehemently denying a need for any more assistance. Even today, the two things he planned to do were quickly swept up and deposited for someone else to do.

The look on your face, and your question have the last puzzle piece fitting into place. He'd smack himself for taking this long to notice if he wasn't flushing a bit right now. You were around less during the week or at the very least on your phone a bit more than usual, but he chalked it up to it being a busy week for you. He never would've thought you were working behind the scenes to lighten his load.

He'd gotten more done for himself this week than he had in a while and he had you to thank for that, even though it took him a while to figure it out. He thought briefly about thanking you, but realized this is what you wanted to do, no thanks necessary. So he shrugs before answering your question.

"I could've sworn he said something about really wanting to kiss you right now. He's around here somewhere I think," he's walking closer, hand on his chin, looking around as if to search for himself.

"Great, when you find him, let him know I've got a pillow and blanket fort set up at home with a stack of movies near the TV." You dodge him, twisting out of the way to head in the direction of your place. He huffs a laugh before running up to your side, arm wrapping around your waist, and drawing you in a close hug. He presses a big kiss to the crown of your head, and releases you just enough to keep walking. He feels lighter than he has in a while, and if you'd been asked, you would've told him the same thing.

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober Day 20: Found Family

Day 20! This one was very fun to write, and is a continuation of Day 16 because I can <3 Bruise angst my beloved and I really dug into it in this batch. You guys will see the fruits of that labor in a couple hours.

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.3k

“Are we brothers?”

The question caught Cole a bit off-guard, and the training dummy plowed straight into his arm when he stopped paying attention to it. He rubbed at his arm, glancing over to Jay as the other boy stood on the steps with his hands on his hips. Jay looked troubled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and hands clenching and unclenching. They had been together long enough for Cole to recognize the signs of Jay’s anxiety.

It was a weird question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jay looked down at the ground, “say my parents just called me and I called you my brother, would you be mad at me?”

Cole raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t think that they would’ve been close enough or spent enough time together to call each other brothers. Although, now that he thought about it, they fought at least once a day over the stupidest of things that could be solved in an instant; he would put Jay in a headlock and give him noogies all the time; every time there would be a chore that Wu would give them they would start fighting over it like screeching cats until one of them eventually had to do it, but at the end of the day they would still sit on the couch and play video games until Jay was knocked out with his head on Cole’s shoulder and the earth ninja would have to carry him to bed.

He never had a brother, and he knew Jay didn’t have one either. So how could either of them know what brothers were supposed to be?

“No,” he said honestly, “I wouldn’t be mad. Why?”

“I, uh, may have just done that.”

Figures. Jay wouldn’t have been asking him otherwise. “Do you think we’re brothers?”

Jay rocked on his heels. “I mean, I don’t have any. But I think that if I did have a brother, I would want it to be you.” He looked panicked for a second, probably worried about Cole’s reaction. “Is that weird? Oh that’s probably really weird I’m sorry-”

“Woah!” Cole said, stepping forward and taking his friend (brother) by the shoulders. “Hey, now. Calm down, Jay, I already said that I wasn’t mad. I-I’m really flattered actually.”

“Really?”

“Really. And hey, I’m happy to call you my brother any day of the week.”

Cole cringed in his waiting room chair as the memory finished playing in his head, the plastic seat hard and uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time he had been here, and it wouldn’t be the last, but you would think that after all the trips they’ve had to make to the emergency room they would’ve started to bring seat cushions for the long waits in-between. However, it was the first time that he had been alone in the waiting room since he was a small child and his mom was sick. He couldn’t say that it brought back good memories to be back here.

His mind kept flashing back to just a few minutes ago, watching as his brother convulsed on the gurney in terror, fighting against the nurses trying to hold him down. Cole was angry, insisting to the nurse that he needed to get to Jay, and eventually he stormed past her despite her saying that only family was allowed behind the scenes.

Jay was his brother; it didn’t matter whether there was a stupid piece of paper to prove it or not.

His little brother had been so scared, terrified of the strangers’ voices connected to faces that he couldn’t see with their hands all over him, but especially the oxygen mask that they had strapped to his face. Cole pushed down the anger that threatened to bubble over, choosing instead to focus on getting his brother to calm down so they could treat his stab wound.

Kissing his forehead well after Jay had gone back to sleep, Cole watched as his brother was wheeled back to somewhere that he couldn’t follow just quite yet, trying to channel the natural patience that came with his element.

“Excuse me?” a nurse called from the door, and Cole picked his head up to look at her. “Are you here for Jay Walker?”

“Yes, I am.” Cole said, getting up from his chair and feeling his back pop as he did so.

“Are you family—”

“He is my brother,” Cole said shortly; part of him felt bad, but the other part didn’t care, “and if you try and keep me from going to see him just because it’s not on record, I will have to ask you to step aside.”

The nurse looked terrified. “O-Of course, you may go see him now. He’s in the third room on the right.”

Cole thanked her, and she stepped aside to let him pass through the door. Walking down the hallway brought back memories from years ago, and Cole could feel himself continuing to shut down with every step he took, and this wasn’t even the hospital where she passed. He couldn’t imagine how strong the memories would be if he ever went back; all it had taken was one trip and a meltdown before the team unanimously agreed to never visit unless they absolutely had to, and if they did then Cole would stay home.

But what happened to his mom wasn’t going to happen to Jay.

The door opened easily, making no sound as he stepped into the room, and Cole sucked in a breath when he saw his brother lying on the bed.

Jay was pale, making his auburn hair stand out against the stark white of the pillow. There was a cannula on his face instead of a full mask, and Cole was grateful that there wouldn’t be another meltdown. Beeping unsteadily, the heart monitor stood alone in the corner, opposite of the IV line hooked into Jay’s arm. The room was as blank as any other room that they had ever been in, and Cole was grateful for the bare walls. Her room hadn’t been barren because of how much time they spent in it.

Standing next to the bed, Cole brought the room’s one chair with him, its legs scraping against the floor with a sound that made him cringe. Making sure that Jay stayed asleep, Cole sat, taking his brother’s hand in his own and starting to play with the blue ninja’s fingers.

“Would it kill you to go on one mission without giving me a heart attack?” Cole asked, getting no answer other than a soft wheeze. The others were still chasing down the bad guys, Cole having been designated as the one to take Jay to the hospital after taking the knife to the gut.

It was almost too common at this point. Jay never used to act so recklessly, throwing himself in front of every possible danger as if he couldn’t die. Recently, there were too many missions ending with someone taking him to the hospital, or bringing him to the medical bay on the Bounty to get treatment well into the wee hours of the night. He knew that the others were starting to notice, trying to intervene before Jay could throw himself to the wolves so he would stay safe. 

He and Nya had spent too many lengthy conversations about it. Cole knew something was wrong, but he didn’t even know where to start pushing to find out what it was.

Groaning, Jay cracked open his eyes. “Cole?”

“Yeah, bud,” Cole answered, standing back up and making sure that Jay could see him.

Jay squinted, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. “What happened?”

“You got stabbed. I took you to the hospital and you’ve got to stay here for the next couple days to make sure your stitches and whatnot don’t get infected.”

“Oh,” Jay closed his eyes, leaning into Cole’s hand when it cupped his cheek, “where are the others?”

Cole bit his lip, and he really hoped that the rest of the team wouldn’t make a liar out of him. “They’re on the way, they should be here soon. Do you need anything?”

Licking his lips, Jay brought his hand up to his face, and Cole saw how he relaxed when he shot a small bolt of lightning between his fingers. Did he really think that Cole would’ve let the hospital staff put the vengestone back on? “Is there any water?”

There was a small pitcher and some cups on the other table. “Yeah, I’ll get you some.”

Picking it up was a bit of a hassle with his new hands; he kept forgetting that it really hadn’t been that long since he was revived. You would think that would be something you would remember, but it was just another day in Ninjago when Cole was concerned. Filling the cup to about halfway, Cole brought it back to Jay, helping him to hold it when the blue ninja’s hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Actually, Jay couldn’t stop shaking. “Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?”

“It’s probably the blood loss,” Jay said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong, “don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Jay, you’re my brother. If you need a blanket then I can get you a blanket—”

“I said I’m fine, Cole,” Jay said quickly, and Cole was surprised to hear his brother’s voice crack mid-sentence. “Stop worrying about it, please.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cole helped his brother sit up enough to bury his face into Cole’s shoulder, resting a hand on the blue ninja’s back while Jay’s fist latched onto his uniform. Kissing the top of his head, Cole sighed, remembering that Jay was probably a little loopy from the pain meds and that he would need to be gentle. “Bluebell, it’s fine. I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t want to do it. What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He sniffled, and Cole could feel tears start to soak into his gi. “For getting hurt and making you take me to the hospital and I know I’ve had to go here a lot recently and I know it’s probably super expensive but I can get a second job if I need to since it’s not fair that it has to come out of everyone’s paychecks—”

And Jay kept rambling, words flying so fast that Cole could only catch every fifth word, but he didn’t interrupt his brother. Clearly, Jay had been bottling this up for a long time, and Cole knew that if he wanted to get a rational explanation from Jay then he would have to listen to the panicked word vomit version first. It was just how Jay worked.

Rubbing his back, Cole stayed quiet and nodded when he was supposed to and hummed whenever Jay “wanted” a response. It took almost ten minutes for Jay’s words to finally run out, and he slumped against the black ninja, exhausted. Cole kissed the back of his head, tucking Jay closer to his chest and laying his chin on Jay’s crown. “Thank you,” Jay said softly, shivering.

“You’re welcome,” Cole said, “now I’m going to get you that blanket, and you’re going to repeat everything you just told me but at a quarter of the speed. Or you’re going to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Helping Jay to lay back down against the pillows, Cole ruffled his hair and gave him a small smile before leaving the room to try and find a nurse. There was one right outside of their room who looked friendly enough. He could’ve just used the call button, but he knew Jay, and he knew that the younger male would appreciate a couple minutes to himself after having a breakdown.

“Excuse me?” Cole said, and the nurse turned around. “Are there any of the warmed blankets left?”

She led him to the heater and grabbed one, folding it up neatly and handing it over. Thanking her, Cole made his way back to Jay’s hospital room, but not before pulling his phone out and dialing Nya’s number to update them on the situation.

“Hello? Cole?”

Shifting the blanket in his hands, Cole smushed the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. “Hey Nya. Are you guys on your way?”

“Yeah, we’re in the car right now. We had to make a quick pitstop to patch Kai up but we should be there soon. How’s Jay?”

“Fine,” Cole sighed, “you might have a little trouble getting back here. They wouldn’t let me go through until Jay started having a meltdown.”

“What? Why was he having a meltdown?”

He reached Jay’s hospital room, so Cole lowered his voice. “They put an oxygen mask on him and then slapped on some vengestone. He started panicking pretty bad but I got him to calm down. No one got hurt.” Too badly, anyway.

Nya growled on the other end. “I don’t care if they were hurt or not, I’ll maim them myself.”

“There’s no need for that,” Cole said, “you guys are gonna have enough trouble getting to his room since they’re only letting family in. Don’t cause any more.”

“I’ll cause as much as I want to,” Nya paused, and Cole knew that she was thinking, “but fine. We’ll be there shortly.”

She hung up, and Cole stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Opening the door to Jay’s room, Cole noticed that the blue ninja had found the remote and turned on the tv to some cartoon channel, and now the blue ninja was fixated on watching the goofy events unfold on screen.

“Jay?” Cole asked, not wanting to startle him. Jay shushed him, still watching, and Cole chuckled at the rare focused expression on his brother’s face.

Silently, Cole made his way to the bed and climbed into it next to Jay, spreading the still-warm blanket out over the both of them. Jay leaned into his big brother’s side, yawning, and Cole wrapped an arm around Jay’s waist while being careful of his stitches.

If Jay wanted to watch cartoons for the rest of the day, then Cole could wait for their conversation.

[sputtersparky-tm]

I’m freaking out over my design for little Megavolt

Oh god all I gotta do is just outline and color and shade and it’ll be done but ajsdfhsjfhkjfghskjf HE’S SO HECKIN’ DORKY AND CUTE AND AHHHHHHH

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Live a Little [Part Six] Too Late [Billy Hargrove]

A/n: there is one more chapter left before the end of book one, then the sequel which starts before the events of season 3.

"It turned dark quick," you utter into the receiver as you curl up in your bed. "I never thought he was so violent."

"But he beat Steve, didn't he?" Robin asks on the other end of the line.

You hum recalling the moment Steve was caught beneath him, taking each punch to the face.

"I can't imagine how bad Steve looks today."

Robin snorts.

"I can't wait to see that dingus at school on Monday."

"Robin," you whine. "This isn't about Harrington."

Although she is going to have a field day when Monday rolls around.

"OK. OK. So, you're upset and confused. But do you still like Billy?" Robin asks.

"I did until he almost beat up Sinclair," you answer.

Robin hums.

"Why did he almost beat up Sinclair? Lucas is who you are talking about, right?"

You shrug having no idea on either. Honestly, you never caught any of their names.

"He had him against the wall when I walked in," you explain. "And if not for Steve--"

Robin groans interrupting you.

"I don't want to imagine Steve as a hero. That image haunts me."

You snort unable to contain it.

"I hate you for making me laugh. I just want to be upset with Billy right now," you whine.

"You're welcome," Robin utters. "But honestly, what do you plan to do?"

You don't know.

Last night you had called Robin to pick you up, giving her no details about the current situation other than the fact Billy was drugged. She drove to the Byers' house and helped you lug Billy into her car. You had sat in the back with him for hours, cradling his head in your lap until he came to, asking about his car.

"Max took it," you had said. "But you need to go home and rest."

It had taken a minute to convince him to leave the car with Max, but when he had calmed down, you had Robin drive him home.

You had spared him no look as he got out of the car, even when he had tried to talk you into coming in for a bit.

"I just want to go home," you had uttered.

Billy had seemed frustrated, but you had paid him no mind as you got in the front seat and shut the door. The entire ride home you had been in tears.

"I think I'm going to call off the deal," you mention, answering her question.

"Why did you agree to date him?" Robin asks.

You sigh and turn onto your back.

"At first, because he's a hunk. But then he wooed my Pops; he didn't have to do that. We already slept together, so why put that much into it."

"Ask him then," Robin states.

You narrow your eyes. Is she serious?

"The next time you see Goldie ask him, and then you can decide," she adds.

It's sad in your opinion how much she's right. Without your rock, you'd be a mess.

"You've redeemed yourself," you mention with a grin. "So, before I go, I'll leave you with an image to reflect on. Steve took a plate to the head."

"Are you serious?" Robin asks with a laugh.

You chuckle and say goodbye, hanging up the phone. For a moment you don't move; you rest in bed staring at the ceiling as you reflect on the conversation and the events of yesterday. Billy certainly doesn't deserve a chance to explain himself after how he acted, but because you are a decent person you decide to allow him one chance to explain.

Getting out of bed, you walk downstairs and to the kitchen for a drink. From the window over the sink, you can see into the backyard; your father and brother are hard at work in the patch separating the pumpkins. Now that October is over and no one needs a pumpkin, the soil has to be cured and plowed before new seeds are planted. September is a good time to plant snow lettuce and salad greens.

The sound of the front door opening draws your attention away as your mom walks into the kitchen. Her gloves are stained in black from the diseased pumpkins, but she looks hopeful.

"Are you already done with the phone?" She asks, taking off her gloves.

You pour her a glass of water and offer it to her with a nod. She thanks you.

"So, how is Billy doing?"

"I was on the phone with Robin," you answer.

She and your father were in bed before you got home, so neither of them knew about what had happened. When asked about it in the morning, you replied that it was good.

"How are the pumpkins?" You ask.

"Not many lived, but we managed to gather a few that your father plans to plow with the soil; the nutrients will do it some good," she answers. "But on a better note, the disease isn't spreading. It's strange, almost like whatever caused it vanished overnight. Eugene and Merrill called to let us know their fields are getting better too."

You hum. That is strange. But it's good that the disease is gone. You wonder if Hopper ever found out what caused it.

"How have you been?" Your mother asks suddenly.

"Fine," you reply.

She sighs.

"If you start to show symptoms again, please let us know."

"You don't have to worry about me," you assure her.

You had been asymptomatic for years.

"But if symptoms start to show, then I'll let you know," you add.

She worries about you. The fact she had asked must mean that you look a little worn-out.

You walk over and give her a brief hug; she returns the favor.

"Thank you for looking out for me."

Her grip on you tightens. Letting you go, she wipes her tears away and laughs.

"Look at me, tearing up for no reason."

You give her a sympathetic smile. But then a noise catches your attention; it sounds like the tires of a car. You raise a brow.

"Are you expecting anyone?"

Your mom shakes her head in disagreement, looking just as confused. You walk to the front door, peering out as a familiar teal Camaro pulls into the driveway. Your heart pounds erratically.

What is Billy doing here?

He steps out of the car and hastily walks up to the porch. Your mom joins you by the door as he notices you and grins.

"Afternoon, ma'am," he greets her.

"Good afternoon. What are you doing in our neck of the woods?" Your mother asks.

You raise a brow, curious too.

"I came over to see if your lovely daughter wanted to go for a ride with me," Billy answers.

Your mom coos and nudges you. Narrowing your eyes, you curl your arms over your chest.

"That depends. Where are you planning to take me?"

"Down some backroads, I heard about. Maybe I'll even let you drive the Camaro," Billy answers.

What angle is he trying to play? You consider telling him to go away, but the conversation with Robin comes to mind. You did agree to ask him why he's in a relationship with you. Sighing, you turn your eyes to your mom.

"Do you mind?"

"Go on. But don't be gone long," she replies.

You thank her, walking out onto the porch. Billy leads you to the Camaro and opens the passenger side door for you, a notion that makes you turn up your eyes. He's working hard to look good in front of your mom. But why?

Once he's in the car, you glance at him noticing the lack of bruising. He had gotten off easy; Steve had not been lucky. You sit in silence as Billy starts the engine and pulls out onto the main road. As he had said, he takes you down the backroad towards the quarry.

"Are you mad at me about something?" He asks.

You scoff in disbelief.

"Did Steve hit you too hard? Or are you under the assumption that I enjoy watching you pick on kids?"

"I wasn't picking on them," Billy argues. "I told Max to stay away from that Sinclair kid, but she didn't listen to me."

His argument makes no sense.

"Why does Max have to stay away from Lucas?" You ask.

"Because I said so," he retorts.

You shake your head in annoyance. And then it hits you; something Max had said in the store yesterday.

"She likes him. I don't know the kid, but there's no reason why she can't like him."

Billy clinches his jaw almost as if he's trying to refrain from saying something.

"Look, I get that you don't like her, but––"

"You don't know anything about it," he snaps.

Perhaps this was a mistake. You peer out the window, feeling tears burn your eyes.

"No, but when I agreed to date you, I did it under the pretense that you would let me in. But I never really understood why you wanted to date me; we already slept together. What more do you want?"

Billy slows the Camaro down, then eventually stops. He puts the car in park and snatches his cigarettes off the dash and gets out, slamming the door shut. You sit in silence, staring out at the straight stretch of road in front of you as Billy leans against the driver's side door.

You want so bad to go home.

A moment later, he leans down, looking at you.

"Come on, get out," he orders.

You raise a brow. Is he planning to leave you here?

"Can't you just take me home?" You ask.

Tears blur your eyes.

Billy takes a drag of his cigarette and walks over to the passenger side door, opening it. Instead of yanking you out, he squats down beside you.

"I said I'd let you drive, didn't I? So, come on."

He stands up and moves out of the way so that you can unbuckle and get out of the car. Once you are facing him, he rests a hand on the back of your head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

"I'm not gonna leave you here. Relax."

You nod silently, walking around him to the driver's side door. Once you both are seated, you take a moment to dry your eyes before you start the car.

"Have you ever driven before?" Billy asks.

"My mom's truck, on occasion. I don't have the money to buy my own car yet," you answer.

Your voice is broken, but you feel a little better.

Billy points two fingers forward.

"Then drive."

Taking the car out of park you start down the road. It's scary, considering how much power is at your fingertips. You start slow, easing your foot down as you go.

"I thought you said you knew how to drive," Billy states with a laugh.

"I do, but this is totally different," you argue. "I don't want to kill us."

Again, he laughs.

Leaning over, he whispers in your ear, "Then press the damn pedal."

The hairs on your arms stand up. You press down on the gas, gradually making the Camaro move faster. It tears down the gravel road and for a moment, you can't breathe. Does Billy feel like this all the time? Breathless. The speedometer reaches 80 before you have to slow down, nearing the quarry.

Parking, you take a deep breath. You've never felt more alive.

"Did that feel good?" Billy asks.

You rest your hand on your chest.

"My heart is pounding."

He grins.

"Maybe next time you'll get us above 80."

You stick your tongue out at him.

"You're so damn mean."

But it's the truth, isn't it?

Your smile vanishes and you put your hands on the wheel to steady yourself.

There are demons inside his head. Why else does he act out? His dislike for Max has to spawn from something. And what of Steve? Billy had dethroned him for a chance at the top. Why?

"Are you ever going to tell me why you chose me?" You ask.

Billy sighs.

"What is there to tell, babe?"

That's not the answer you want to hear, nor is it the truth.

"I don't ... I don't think we are good for one another," you utter as you squeeze the steering wheel.

"So, you're calling it quits?" Billy asks.

You hesitate a moment, then nod.

"I really like you; I do but these last few days have been chaotic. You did show me a fun time, though."

He has no idea how hard this is.

"I truly am sorry," you add. "But it's easier for me to do this now than get attached to you once the week is up."

Billy nods.

"Switch sides; I'll take you home."

You want so bad to take it all back, but the breakup is inevitable. And it's not like he is arguing his case.

Getting out of the car, the blond follows suit. As you meet him at the hood of the car the tears return.

"You know what's funny?"

Billy raises a brow.

"I kind of hoped that after the week was up, there would be something more," you say with a snort.

The blond gives you a sympathetic look, but nothing else.

As you get into the car, staring out the window as the scenery whips by you wonder, would he have let you stand beside him at the top? It's too late to find out. 

[vodkassassin]

Shen Qingqiu decides enough is enough! As is his right

If you see any typos in this, no you don’t 😌

—

The door flies open right on the midday hour mark, when the candle that he lit this morning is exactly half gone, and Shang Qinghua immediately dives underneath his desk and throws his arms over his hand.

“I’m almost done!” He calls out desperately. “Just give me a few more hours, I promise I’m almost done!”

Following this, a silence in his office, long and inspecting, takes place. Shang Qinghua, despite all his instincts screaming otherwise, peeks his head up over the edge of his desk and gulps. The person standing in his door, who is surveying his admittedly very messy office (it’s not his fault! Paperwork breeds like multiplying cells! Why doesn’t anyone understand that?!), and looking very, very unamused.

“Ha, um,” he scrambles back to sit on the chair again, trying to get his thundering heart under control. “H-Hello, Shen-shixiong! This — I — I wasn’t expecting….”

Shen Qingqiu finishes his examination of his workspace and locks his gaze upon Shang Qinghua. He steps smoothly into the office, and shuts the door behind him with sure but quiet movements. A cold sweat breaks out down Shang Qinghua’s spine.

He swallows. He reaches forward and grabs up the paperwork he’d been pouring over before this interruption and holds it feebly before himself like a shield.

“A-Acruelly, shixiong…. If shixiong has something he wants from this shidi, I-I’m afraid it will have to wait. Wei-shixiong demanded these requisition forms be looked over and approved before tomorrow a-and there… there are a lot of them to go through…. I think he waited until the last minute — Oh! And Liu-shidi, he — um, he sent in his audit reports late again, so I have to go through those too and I’m really really sorry but whatever you have for me I can’t —!”

“Stop your babbling.” Shen Qingqiu snaps. Shang Qinghua’s jaw clicks shut so fast his teeth hurt a little. Ow.

He watches with wide eyes as his shixiong — who is now scowling heavily, nooo — begins to flip through the various stacks of parchment and scrolls that sit heavy upon Shang Qinghua’s desk. Too terrified to tell him that, actually, only the sect leader should be looking through those ones, Shang Qinghua remains quiet.

Really, nobody tells Shen Qingqiu what he can or can’t do. Those who have tried before are —

Well. They’ve all seen their sect leader.

“These.” Shen Qingqiu slips a smaller stack of documents out from the middle of one of the piles and holds it up. “The supply logs from the previous joint peak night hunting expedition. They have yet to be filed?”

“Shixiong,” Shang Qinghua’s eyes water in frustration, and he holds up his sleeve to cover them. “I meant to, I did! But — but when I was going to get to them, Qi-shimei came in with a cart full of delegated peak maintenance reports! She said if they weren’t done before noon she’d — Ah.” He shudders, peeks over his arm, and goes pale at the way Shen Qingqiu’s eyes have narrowed viciously. He hurries on, voice growing smaller. “I’d just finished them when Wei-shixiong brought me his backlog requisitions….”

He trails off, because the expression on his shixiong face has gone colder and colder the longer he spoke.

“Why haven’t you chosen to delegate?” The man demands from between his locked teeth. “All these disciples that you have, and you’re telling me you can’t delegate a single task to them?”

“Shixiong,” Shang Qinghua’s eyes water again and he shiffles pathetically into his sleeve. “Shixiong, I do delegate. This stuff in my office here, this is all the work only peak lords have the security clearance for. Everything else I delegate to my disciples, because I can’t… I can’t….”

Shen Qingqiu stares down his nose at him, and Shang Qinghua stops talking. He drops his gaze and listens as the man silently turns on his heel and stalks out of his office, closing the door with a solid thump.

He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and drops his arm defeatedly into his lap, frowning down at the water stains his stupid tears have left in the fabric. Silk is so fucking dumb, you can’t walk through without it picking up dirt somehow. It’s why he changed his peak robes to darker colors, because at least black doesn’t show where you’ve been all day.

And seriously, it’s just so much easier to scrub blood out of clothes that aren’t white or beige or pastel.

He shoves his paperwork to the side and folds his arms before him, letting his head thunk down on them with an exhausted sigh. The door opens slightly again and a head peaks in.

“Shizun?”

“A-Kao,” he mumbles into his arms. “I’m gonna die.”

His head disciple gives a polite sound of acknowledgement. “I’ll have someone prepare some of the spiced tea imported from that Eastern desert oasis, then.”

“I love you,” Shang Qinghua says fervently, and listens as his favorite disciple huffs a quiet laugh.

“Will return shortly.”

The door closes again, and with it, Shang Qinghua closes his eyes.

Jin Kao is true to his word, as always, and in fact brings a light snack of fruit and a pastry along with the tea. Shang Qinghua plows through it at record pace and is energized! He’s halfway through the requisition forms for Wei Qingwei when his door is slammed open once again.

He flinches. Taking a fortifying breath, Shang Qinghua glances up and immediately loses all color.

“Shen-shixiong is back!” He shakes, voice wobbling. “With — with Z-Zhangmen-shixiong, ah…!”

Shen Qingqiu stalks into the room, side stepping Jin Kao whose arms are laden with the empty tea set. The head disciple wisely flees into the corner, watching with a narrow gaze as the Qing Jing peak lord all but drags their venerated Sect Leader across the office to stand before Shang Qinghua’s desk.

Shang Qinghua trembles as they both loom over him. What did he do?! Shixiong, what he’s said before was completely reasonable! There was no need to go and fetch your overbearing ge!

Shen Qingqiu points a finger at Shang Qingh— oh wait, not him. At his desk. At the mountains of papers littering his desk.

“If you have time to relax and drink tea in your spotless office,” the second in command sneers at his superior, “then you have time to pick up the slack so that our shidi can do the same!”

Shang Qinghua gapes. He stares up at them with round, round eyes, uncertain as to what’s going on.

Yue Qingyuan, for his part, quails under Shen Qingqiu’s steely and unrelenting gaze. His shoulders are tense, and the way in which he looks around Shang Qinghua’s office with a startled look, only to then turn it upon Shang Qinghua himself, just screams ‘bro, you live like this?’

Not by choice! Shang Qinghua never asked for this, Yue-shixiong! The paperwork just never stops!

Shen Qingqiu pivots sharply, glaring down at him instead. Ah!

“What are you doing?” The man says. “Get up.”

“Ah?” Completely bewildered, Shang Qinghua only stares up at the man in confusion.

“Honestly.” Shen Qingqiu sighs under his breath — a sharp and stilted sound of frustration.

He rounds the desk himself and grabs Shang Qinghua by the upper arm, hauling him up from his chair and dragging him away from the desk.

“Th-This—?!”

“Sect Leader,” Shen Qingqiu nods at the desk. Yue Qingyuan only stares blankly at him, and so he sneers. “These forms must be finished. And the next stack. All by a peak lord — I’m taking Shang-shidi for a well deserved break, so I can’t do it, and Wei-shidi was the one to submit them in the first place. Of the four foremost peak lords of the sect, only you have time and clearance to do it.”

Shang Qinghua sways, shocked. If Shen Qingqiu didn’t still have such a bone-crushing grip on him, he might have even fallen. The other man steadies him immediately, and the sour look on his face sours even further.

Yue Qingyuan’s face is pale. “Qingqiu-shidi….”

“It isn’t as if you were busy with anything else.” Shen Qingqiu plows on past whatever refuting the sect leader was trying to pull. He shakes Shang Qinghua roughly by the arm, and Shang Qinghua rapidly blinks away the spots from his vision. “Look at our shidi, he’s nearly dead on his feet. Are you telling me that you would make him work more, when it’s already clear that he’s overworked?”

Yue Qingyuan pauses. He glances around the office another time, shoulders lowering in slow increments. His resolve is crumbling visibly to everyone in the office.

Shang Qinghua silently mouths ‘overworked’ to himself, stunned.

Finally, the sect leader sighs. “No, Qingqiu-shidi is right.”

Shen Qingqiu snorts. As if to say ‘of course I am.’

Yue Qingyuan steps around the desk and slowly takes the seat that Shang Qinghua had just been forcably vacated from. He eyes the stack of paperwork that are piled high, not just on the desk but on the floor and the shelves surrounding the desk, and an expression of regret eclipses his face.

“This shixiong had not realized Shang-shidi’s workload was quite so…” he trails off, trying to fish for the right word, and finally lands on, “heavy.”

“It’s the Sect Leader’s duty to ascertain that all those under his sect’s banner are taken care of. Those directly under his command even more so.” Shen Qingqiu sniffs disdainfully. “You have no excuse.”

Yue Shixiong bows his head. “No, this one does not.”

“I’m taking Shang Qinghua to Qing Jing to recuperate.”

“Yes.”

Shang Qinghua pales even further. He ducks his head down and glances over to the corner into which his head disciple had squirreled himself away for help.

Jin Kao stares back, an expression of smug victory on his face, and doesn’t say a single word.

This traitor! Unfilial disciple! Shang Qinghua takes back what he said about Jin Kao being his favorite. He’s replacing that brat as soon as he’s able to escape Shen Qingqiu’s clutches.

Shen Qingqiu yanks on his arms, dragging him out of the office. He cranes his neck around, and the last scene he sees before the door slams shut is Jin Kao setting down the empty tea set, picking up a large stack of papers from one of the various spots on the floor, which he then ferries over to the desk at which Yue Qingyuan has picked up the half-finished requisition, looking it over with a frown.

Huh. He’s never seen his head disciple look quite so intimidating before. The boy is practically looming over their sect leader with a dark expression.

That’s a little strange.

He doesn’t see beyond that, though, because Shen Qingqiu slams the doors shut again and drags him off his own damn peak.

—

Support this story on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32312410

[chudleycanonficfest]

Vino

Day 25, Post #1 by @thedistantdusk

Title: Vino Author/Artist: TheDistantDusk Pairing: Harry/Ginny Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: E (to be safe) for smutty references.    Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Drinking (everyone of legal age). Frank discussion of sex acts. 

They started drinking at 1 PM. 

It seemed the best way to spend the day together before the Hogsmeade day — not weekend, much to Harry’s disappointment— reached its untimely conclusion. He had to cancel the upstairs room he rented for them, too, which he’s still not chuffed about, and not just because they’d definitely have shagged.

Because with Ginny, It’s more than just physical. It’s always been more than just physical. He misses her… deeply, hollowly misses her. It’s a constant ache in the pit of his stomach, like there’s always part of him that’s somewhere else. They had to settle for a heated snog behind the Three Broomsticks before heading in to escape the cold, but that hadn’t been enough. For either of them.

Of course, on the surface he pretended to understand the sudden change of events. It’s a particularly cold February, so cold that McGonagall was close to canceling the Hogsmeade visit altogether. According to Ginny, she only settled for an early dismissal instead when the student body threatened to mutiny. So Ginny’s due back at 6 now, which truly is shit, but anything is better than not seeing her at all.

Harry blinks at his beautiful girlfriend across the table and wonders why she’s been withdrawn today. Distant. At first, he chalked this up to school stress. After all, she is quidditch captain. He knows firsthand how stressful that can be— and while he’d held the captaincy, NEWTS hadn’t even been on the horizon yet. He also hadn’t dealt with a castle full of ghosts and sadness and distorted memories. 

After the drinks started flowing, though, it became clear that school stress wasn’t the issue. Or at least not the biggest one. When she finished her first pint, she started sending him these fleeting looks of puzzlement in between updating him on the Hogwarts gossip. Her second and third pints brought even greater looks of scrutiny.  Now that she’s midway through her fourth pint, she’s full-on staring at him. For the past twenty minutes, he’s felt a bit like an animal in a zoo. Harry hasn’t known what to do about that, really. As much as he loves her, Ginny’s not known for her subtlety. Or patience. She’s always come outright with any concerns or problems, always addressed them head-on. So this constant look of confusion has been… well, confusing. Harry handled the last twenty minutes the best way he knows how: drinking more, holding her hand across the table, and waiting for her to take the lead. He offers a tiny smile and reaches for his pint. He’s content to wait as long as she needs, for whatever she needs.  As it turns out, though, he decides to take a drink at the worst possible moment. Had he been looking, he would’ve seen her cock her head and open her mouth as she reached some sort of internal breaking point. Unfortunately, he just brings his pint glass to his lips instead. So for better or worse, all he hears is the question itself.  “Why do you go down on me so much?” Harry immediately chokes on his beer. It splatters down his front, coating the table in amber specks. He apologizes through a cough and grapples with a napkin, but Ginny remains unfazed. “I… erm.” He coughs again, shaking his head. “Sorry. Wasn't expecting—” “And I’m not complaining,” she says quickly, resting her chin on her palm. “I mean, obviously.”  Oh? He relishes the blush that creeps up her neck. “Then what are—” “It’s just…” She sighs, peering down at her pint glass. “I’ve spoken to Luna about it, and as much as she—"

“You’ve… you’ve spoken to Luna about this?” he asks weakly, head spinning. “Who else—?”

  Ginny plows on as if she hasn’t heard him. “I just figured, I guess, that when we properly started shagging you’d do it less. But you erm… haven’t. So.”

  There’s a pause as the blush from before creeps over her entire face. 

  Harry takes another cautious sip of his pint as a raucous peal of laughter erupts behind him. A firm reminder that they’re very much in public. He squints at the woodgrain on the table. Why is that turning him on even more?

  “Erm… what exactly do you want to know?” he asks after a minute, surprised at how graveled his voice sounds. 

  Ginny sighs, still holding her face in her hands. “Just that, really,” she murmurs, tongue coming out to wet her lips. Fuck. He grips his glass even tighter. “I just… I want to know. Why do you do it so much?” 

  “Erm…” Harry winces. He realizes he’s been saying that a lot.

Ginny’s hand comes up to rest on his, and it’s only when she speaks again that he realizes how drunk she truly is. “Take as long as you need,” she slurs sagely, peering into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a long time, Harry.” 

And he’d laugh, probably, if this entire concept didn’t terrify him a bit to explain. 

  Bloody words. 

  He twists his pint glass, watching as foam overlaps its white-capped ring. Words have never been his strong suit. How, exactly, is he meant to convert this string of images and feelings into something resembling an explanation? 

  But it’s clearly something she wants answered. Something that’s probably bothered her for longer than she wants to admit. So Harry shuts his eyes, trying to remember, trying to think. 

  He honestly hadn’t given the concept much thought until sixth year. He knew that… general activity… happened before they started dating— obviously. The twins (perhaps deliberately) left enough moving magazines around the Burrow to leave little to the imagination. So he’d seen wizards doing it. They seemed to enjoy it almost as much as the witches splayed out in front of them. Harry just hadn’t considered, really, that he’d ever do it for any reason other than paying his dues. It seemed a simple act of reciprocity. Something one did out of expectation rather than genuine interest. 

  A wry smile creeps across his lips when he thinks about that particular misconception. Because that’s the furthest from the truth, isn’t it? Their relationship flashes through his mind like a film reel. The first time his thigh slipped between her legs as they snogged on the lawn. The pride that swelled in his chest as she wrapped her thighs around it, clutching it as close to her center as she could as she rocked, rocked, rocked. 

  Fuck, how he’d cherished the trousers he wore that day, too. For over a year, they were the closest thing he had to her knickers— and even then, he stole that first pair of knickers right off her. Though perhaps “stole” was the wrong word, because that implied some degree of secrecy… and there was nothing secret about it. He just winked at her as he pulled those blue knickers down her thighs and stuffed them in his trouser pocket. Ginny stared down at him, her chest flushed and heaving. He felt like the most powerful person alive before he even started, and when he actually did… 

  Fuck.

  He returns to the present and adjusts himself beneath the table. 

  “I… erm,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I guess I’m… well, I’ve never been good at….” He makes a broad gesture. “Touch. Yeah?”

  Ginny blinks. “Touch?”

  Harry nods, biting inside his cheek. “Erm. When I kissed you in the common room in sixth year, that was the first time I really understood I could, you know, touch you. To make you happy. To…” He huffs out a sigh, his thoughts growing more sluggish. He sifts through them for a few seconds before reaching the answer he’s searched for all along. 

  “I erm. I figured out pretty quickly that I could use touch to turn you on,” he admits to the woodgrain. “And erm… for someone who wasn’t used to touching, that was pretty… nice. To learn I had that power.” 

  His whole face feels red-hot, like it might combust at any second, but he takes her silence as a cue to continue. 

  “Anyway. As soon as we started snogging, I really wanted to do it, but obviously we didn’t get the chance at school. So instead I thought about it. Wanked about it. For months.” He lets out a slow breath through his nose and focuses on a wood beam above their heads. 

  Has he ever admitted to a specific wanking fantasy before? He doesn’t think so. 

  “Continue.” Ginny’s voice warbles through his thoughts. 

  He swallows and tilts his head down to face her again, pleased to see that confusion has evaporated from her face entirely. Now she’s looking… uncomfortable… for entirely different reasons. 

  Harry smirks; he’s liking this whole opening-up thing more than he thought. But what else to tell her… hmm.

  “Well, we both know I wasn’t great at first, of course,” he says, shrugging. “But you were erm. A good teacher.” He bites his lip again and remembers those early, awkward days when she still needed to shift against his face, to direct him where he needed to go.

Even back then, she lost all sense of decorum pretty fast; that was always his favorite part, really… when she started in with the deep moans, commanding him to add more fingers, to keep them in place, to crook them against her. There was no sense of accomplishment greater than the way she gripped his ears, his hair, his shoulders, her thighs clenching around his entire face as she choked out his name. Being surrounded by her— pressing his tongue against the final pulses of her clit as she rhythmically clenched against his fingers— made him feel more complete than anything else. It left her dazed and gasping; it left him feeling not only useful, but powerful. Necessary. 

  The whole ordeal's made him come in his trousers, actually. More than once. And speaking of trousers…

  Harry clears his throat. “You could’ve asked a while ago, you know,” he says as casually as he can with a raging hard-on. “Back when I took your knickers, even. I want you to tell me if you have a question about anything. Ok?” He swallows, finally blinking up at her.

  Shit. 

  If she looked distracted before, it’s nothing compared to now. She’s just peering at him with lips parted, chest heaving, eyes unfocused. One hand is balled into a fist on the table top, the other gripping on her thigh.

  Ginny eventually rips her eyes away with an annoyed whimper. “Fucking fuck,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “I’m so fucking turned on.” 

  Harry laughs and finishes his pint, his chest bubbling with pride. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

[dreamypeaches]

rating things my bf has said during secks | rafe cameron x reader

summary: you jump on the tik tok trend of rating things your boyfriend, rafe cameron, has said to you in bed

warnings: SMUT, cursing, seriously this is disgusting. im going to hell

word count: 1.6k

a/n: oh boy folks. this one is literally...so filthy i can’t even breath right now. please enjoy. 

pope jj kie sarah topper kelce

“Don’t hold back, baby.”

10/10

-I didn’t

-he loves to hear me scream

Face buried in a pillow, wrists pulled behind your back and trapped in Rafe’s tight grip, he plowed into you from behind. You’d missed Rafe’s touch so much, having been gone for a week on vacation with his family. The texts and videos you had exchanged were down right sinful, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. You missed the way he bruised your hips, the way he held you down and pounded into you until you saw God. He missed your tight little pussy, the look on your face when he made you cum on his dick, your sweet little moans and the way you screamed his name.

But the lewd noises were currently being muffled by the pillow your face was shoved in, and Rafe couldn’t have that. He twisted your hair in his grip, pulling on it and lifting your head up off the pillow.

“There we go. Don’t hold back, baby. I want to hear you,” He growls, yanking a little harder on your locks and thrusting deeper into you. You obeyed, letting your curses and moans out into the air, adding to the sinful atmosphere of the room.

“i’m gonna f*ck you until you beg me to stop”

500/10

-true to his word

-couldn’t walk for a week

To say Rafe was pissed was an understatement. But the fury that burned within his eyes didn’t scare you. In fact, you felt your cunt start dripping in response. His hand gripped your throat, knuckles bruised and bloodied from the events earlier in the night. He slams you back into the wall and making you moan.

“You think you’re funny? Talking to that fucking Pogue in front of me? Did you see the way he was looking at you? Well, he already got his, now it’s time for your punishment.” He hikes your dress up and practically rips your panties off. You scream as he plunges his fingers into you, starting out at a brutal pace, fingers curling to hit your g-spot.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop,” He growls.

“i want everyone to know how hard you were f*cked’

12000000/10

-pulled me in close and bit my neck hard

-hot af

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me, taking my cock so well,” Rafe moans as he slows the speed of his thrusts, staring down at where your bodies met and the juices of two orgasms leaked out of you.

“Does anyone else know what a little slut you are? How good you are taking cock?”

You moan as he juts into you particularly hard and he reaches down to to squeeze your throat.

“I asked you a question, baby.”

“No, Rafe. No one knows what a good little slut I am for you.” The grin that appears on his face is devilish, his movements stopping completely, making you whimper. He leaned down until his mouth is by your ear, breath fanning across your neck making you shiver.

“I want everyone to know how hard you were fucked,” He purrs, strangely tender despite the darkness of his words. The he suddenly bites down on your neck, making you shout before his hips start snapping into yours. He continues to make large, dark marks across your body as he fucks you into the mattress.

“you c*m when i say you can”

2589/10

-don’t tell me what to do

-jk yes daddy

Rafe had been edging you all night. It started at dinner, a special birthday dinner for him with all his close friends. Under the table, his fingers had rubbed your sensitive nub until you were right on the edge, then pulling away as dessert was served, knowing full well that you were his real dessert for the night.

The second the two of you got home, he commanded you to meet him in your bedroom, naked and waiting. You did exactly as he said, it was his birthday after all, and you were the best present he could get. When he arrived in the bedroom, he was removed only his tie, wrapping it around your wrists and binding them tight. The next couple hours was spent with a vibrator on your clit, your legs shaking as you constantly came close to the edge but never tipped over.

Every now and then, Rafe’s mouth and fingers would join in the fun. Licking up your juices or teasing your nipples. Sometimes he would pull your panties on, leaving the small vibrator pressed up against you while he sat back and watched you squirm. You were crying by this point, all this pleasure with no release driving you crazy.

“Please, Rafe! I can’t take it anymore, I need to cum!” You whimper. The vibe is suddenly removed from you, replaced with a hard slap to your pussy that makes you scream.

“What’s my name?” He growls.

“Daddy! Please!” He smirks down at you, eyes filled with an animalistic hunger.

“You cum when I say you can.”

“you look amazing rn”

100000/10

-awe shucks

-was said in a very tender way

-wholesome

“Fuck, Rafe, I’m gonna cum!” You moan as Rafe slams into you, fingers playing your clit like a beautiful instrument.

“I’m close too baby…fuck…cum with me,” He groans, his movements sloppy as his words start to become true. You reach up, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss is loving and passionate and hungry and pure all at once. You moan against each other as you both meet your releases. He stills inside you, pulling out all too soon for your liking and scooting down the bed to stare at your leaking center. Seeing his seed dripping from you did something to his head, making his dick harden again slightly and his love for you grow. His fingers reach out, scooping up his cum and shoving it back into you lightly, making you whimper quietly.

He sits back up, leaning over you and placing sweet kisses around your face before landing on your lips. He pulls back, staring at your face covered in after sex bliss. He loves you like this, absolutely fucked out.

“You look amazing right now,” He smiles softly as you blush, covering your face with your hands. He shakes his head and pulls them away cuddling up to you and placing several more kisses to your neck as he holds you tight.

“you’ll pay for that later”

sdhfdskkhdj/10

-i deserved it

-my a$$ was red

You’d been to enough Kook parties with Rafe to last you a life time. You were bored, left in the corner to pout while Rafe paid attention to anything but you. You were honestly tired of it, and you were going to do something about it. Finding Rafe talking to Topper by the pool, you walk up to him with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, baby,” You coo before turning to face Topper, pressing your back up against Rafe, making sure your ass was situated right on his crotch. You spend the next few minutes in deep discussion with Topper, not even looking or speaking to Rafe. Every now and then, you would move to adjust your dress, rubbing your butt against his quickly hardening cock.

“Aw, I’m out,” You say, referring to your drink, starting to walk away.

“I’ll come with you,” Rafe says, taking your arm and practically dragging you away. He leans down and growls in your ear, “You’ll pay for that later.” The words made you ruin your underwear.

Instead of bringing you to the kitchen for drinks, he leads you out to his truck, shoving you into the passenger seat. When you arrived home, he brought you to the bedroom and bent you over his knee, hiking your skirt up and shoving your panties down. His hand met your ass, over, and over again, until you were soaked all over his lap. He lifted you up moving you onto the bed, placing you down gently in contrast to the harsh slaps he had just given you.

“Such a little fucking tease,” He whispers before unbuckling his pants and pulling his cock out, preparing to absolutely destroy your cunt.

“who’s pu$$y is this?”

infinity/10

-i knew exactly who’s

-(spoiler) it’s his

You always knew your wedding night with Rafe would be one to remember. Your bedroom life was already incredible, you just knew he would pull out all the stops for your special day. And you were right. It had started long before the bedroom, sneaking off during the reception for him to bury himself under your beautiful white dress and devour you, or you kneeling in front of him, sucking him until his covered your lips in white, suited perfectly for a bride like you.

When he got you all to himself after the party, you knew you were in for it. The sex was rough and passionate, using positions where he could always look you right int he eye as he made you scream his name. You were all his and his alone, and you would be for the rest of your lives.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growls as he fucks into you, rubbing you clit and squishing your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. Already three orgasms deep, you found it difficult to focus. But the look of pure passion and love glowing in his eyes fanned the flame inside of you.

“It’s yours, Rafe, all yours. Forever and always.” You breathe. He grins at you, meeting your lips in a fiery kiss as he fucks you with all the love in his body.

taglist/moots: @ilovejjmaybank @broken-jj @vindictive-hearts @wtfkie @jjmaybby @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @rekrappeter @diverdcwn @rafecameron @prejudic3 @starlightstarkey @https-luna @sunnypogue @obxmxybxnk @jjmayybank @bluesiderudy @socialwriter @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @peachydrews @outerbanksbro @poguestyleskye @softstarkey @bricksatanakinswindow @mdlyncline @poguemackin @downbytheouterbanks @ptersparkers @prkerspogue @moldisgoodforyou @outrbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @tempestuousjj @stargazingstarkey @anxietyandtacos @uwubonebabie @joshy-obx

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 288: ZOOM AND ENHANCE

Previously on BnHA: Tomura, AFO, Deku, and Nana all met up inside of OFA and were all, “wow this is awkward.” AFO talked a whole bunch about vestiges before realizing that nobody cared (EXCEPT FOR ME. I CARED!!), and was then all “anyway so just to get everyone up to speed here, Tomura is Nana’s grandson.” OFA appeared and was all “what up bro I see you’re still a dick”, and then everyone stood around for a bit waging psychokinetic war on each other and blowing up on the ground and shit. This didn’t really accomplish anything, so AFO shifted gears and started trash talking Deku instead, because he’s a whiny little punkass loser who can’t admit when his brother has gotten the best of him yet again! OFA was all “anyways Deku rules and haters gonna hate, peace”, and then everyone wooshed back out of OFA and back into the real world, Deku with his quirk still intact. Meanwhile Gigantomachia and the LoV stampeded ever closer to the city, and Toga started monologuing in preparation for a seemingly inevitable battle with Ochako! And then the chapter basically just ended there lol.

Today on BnHA: Imagine you are Uraraka Ochako. And you’re out here doing what you do best, saving bitches and being a badass, when all of a sudden some old lady runs up to you and is all “PLEASE HELP ME, MY HUSBAND IS ASLEEP OR SOME SHIT, YOU KNOW US OLD PEOPLE, WE’RE SO FUCKING FEEBLE AND HAPLESS.” And so you’re all “OF COURSE” because you’re a good fucking person, and then she speeds off like she’s got fucking wheels and it’s like damn, grandma, were you in varsity track or what, and then OUT OF NOWHERE she just spontaneously turns into HIMIKO FUCKING TOGA. And she’s all naked and shit, and it’s like damn, Toga, where are your clothes, and she just giggles and ducks into a nearby building. And so you follow her for god knows what reason, and she fucking pounces on you and starts interrogating you in like the most seductive way possible, and you’re all wtf is this. Like, can you even imagine. Anyway so Ochako is having quite a day.

okay lol so I’ve gotta kind of rush through this since I’ve got other stuff I need to wrap up today as well, so! fingers crossed that we get a nice, simple chapter with no controversies or elaborate revelations or anything like that! just give me lots of stuff to mindlessly keysmash about, Horikoshi. I’m counting on you bro

lol what

an actual fucking plane?? is that allowed?? how bizarrely normal. are we sure this plane does not shoot lasers or something or is powered by someone with like a fusion reactor quirk idk

and who tf is Takeo-san. some random guy Horikoshi is suddenly introducing after 300 chapters to come save everyone at the last minute? pretty sus. Horikoshi is this your self insert

GASP

NO WAY THIS IS ALL MIGHT, RIGHT?? holy shit I swear to god if it’s All Might this lady needs to TURN THE FUCK AROUND RIGHT NOW. stop at McDonalds, order a black coffee for herself and only herself, and drive the rest of the way back home without so much as a bathroom break. there are certain prophecies which we don’t need to be tempting right now, okay people?? holy shit

(ETA: OR, here’s a thought, WHAT IF IT’S BEST JEANIST. hope springs eternal lmao. anyways though surely it’s not actually All Might. he can’t die yet, he’s got like 5 million secret things he needs to explain to Deku, and also Kacchan is unconscious and he can’t just SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH ALL MIGHT’S DEATH like come on.)

oh look more heroes all lining up to be slaughtered by Machia

real talk, at this point their priority should just be evacuating any citizens in Machia’s path, and then getting the fuck out of his way. none of them stand a chance in hell at stopping him and they know it. the body count is already high enough as it is. regroup and live to fight another day, people

anyway, so Machia is apparently plowing through cities at 100km per hour. that... actually might not be fast enough. Gunga and Jakku were 80km apart, so at that rate it would take him nearly an hour to reach Tomura. that fight’s gonna be long done by the time they get there. huh

okay these guys are saying he’s going to reach them in about 8 minutes. ?? so are you telling me Tomura and Deku and the rest have been fighting for like 40 minutes already?? lmao Gran probably bled to death half an hour ago at this rate. Horikoshi please explain yourself. some of us spent our entire childhoods doodling comics instead of paying attention in math and science AND IT SHOWS

anyway so this is all very bad and this guy is really rubbing it in just how bad it is

I mean... yeah. obviously the villains are still to blame at the core of it all, but yeah. feels like you all could have planned a hell of a lot better for this. you knew there was the risk of Tomura waking up, and you knew there was also the risk of Gigantomachia waking up as well. and you pretty much had no contingency plan at all huh. society is really gonna be in shambles after this

lmao look at this shit. Machia is so big at this point that it looks like they’re having a picnic in the middle of some desert somewhere. at what point does it cease being a guy’s back and start being its own zip code

even has its own wifi. amazing

oh shit Compress apparently spotted someone and he’s asking Skeptic to “zoom and enhance” like it’s CS fucking I. that’s not how it works Compress you fucking boomer

anyway so OF COURSE,

was there a reason you needed to zoom in on them, other than to trigger Toga?? some people just want to watch the world burn

so Toga is now GEARIN’ UP!!

that honestly is so fucking handy. over at U.A. they have to carry their gear in briefcases like scrubs. does Compress actually have the best quirk in the world?? it flies under the radar so well that I always forget about it, but like WHAT CAN’T IT DO though, y’know??

WELL WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN MY DUDE

“oh hey is that the U.A. kids? Skeptic could you please zoom in on them for absolutely no reason? OH MY GOD TOGA IS RUNNING OFF TO FIGHT THEM, OH MY GOD WHO COULD HAVE FORESEEN, OH MY GOD”

now he’s all “DABI PLEASE DO SOMETHING” but Dabi is all “DABI DON’T CARE”

Dabi don’t care about NOTHING OR NO ONE!! Dabi don’t got time for this

lmao I literally forgot that Spinner was even there, shit

so are you gonna go with her then or not? because I got news for you dude, it doesn’t matter how heartwarming your speech is, nothing can stop this girl now that she’s gone full distracted boyfriend meme

AW BUT IT REALLY IS HEARTWARMING THOUGH

Spinner is the glue keeping this dysfunctional Addams family together honestly. too bad he couldn’t stop Compress from OPENING HIS BIG DUMB MOUTH ah well

lmao but he’s letting her go anyway though

Spinner for new LoV President. all in favor??

ANYWAYS LOL THIS IS BAD

“ACCELERATE EVACUATIONS” LOL WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO OCHAKO HE’S MOVING AT 100KM AN HOUR AND HE’S LIKE FUCKING GODZILLA SIZED FKJLK

“PLEASE RUN OUTSIDE OF THE VILLAIN’S PERIPHERY” well thank fucking god the people have you guys to guide them what would they even do without you lklkhlkds

NO HORIKOSHI DON’T YOU DARE

IF YOU HURT MY GIRL FROPPY I SWEAR TO GOD!! LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BRIGAND

OH THANK GOD

“sorry for SAVING YOUR LIFE” smh. anyway so how fucking badass is Ochako though?? can we just talk about this. THE GIRL POWER ARC STRIKES AGAIN hot damn

(ETA: and btw, seeing as Iida is nowhere to be found, I’d say odds are pretty good that they did in fact send him to go warn the Endeavorsquad of Gigantomachia’s imminent arrival. godspeed Iida! they need all the help they can get right now honestly.)

EXCUSE ME BUT ARE YOU TOGA

IS THIS TOGA. THIS IS DEFINITELY TOGA OMG

“I IMMEDIATELY TRUST YOU AND I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH” noooo Ochako nooooo

damn Toga you really drained some poor old lady’s blood just so you could pull this kind of sneaky shit. I forgot how much I loved you

ohhhh lol so it’s her “husband” that is Takeo-san lol

THE BETTER TO LURE YOU INTO A TRAP MY DEAR

lmao Ochako you rube

now you’ve done it Toga. there is nothing Ochako loves more than a good old fashioned Old People Romance. DID YOU KNOW SHE HAS SEEN THE NOTEBOOK LIKE FIFTY TIMES. AND NO MATTER WHAT, IT ALWAYS GETS HER AT THE END. meanwhile I just want to watch a movie where James Marsden actually gets the girl for once but we all know that will never happen

OH MY

ngl this page would be like a thousand times better if Ochako was still blushing omg. did I ship this before?? I honestly can’t remember but I sure as fuck ship it now goddammit

(ETA: pretty sure I shipped it back during the Forest arc too but I don’t have time to check right now lol. but Toga is just so horny on main for everyone, all the time, and so like, it’s hard not to ship it.)

so now Toga is running off all flirtatiously and Ochako is barreling after her lol

plot twist, Takeo-san is actually in there. and he has NO IDEA what’s going on. WHAT HAPPENED TO MY WIFE. WHY IS THERE A GIANT MOLE MAN BURROWING THROUGH THE CITY

Ochako why on earth would you follow Toga into this dark creepy house where she could spring at you from any angle out of nowhere. just go back outside and float up over it until you have a high enough vantage point to see all the exits and just wait for her to come out

Toga says she wanted to talk to Tsuyu-chan as well, but let’s be real, you and her don’t have the same kind of electrically charged kismesis energy that you’ve got going on with Ochako though

LMAO DEKU NOWHERE IS SAFE

getting dragged like a fucking wedding train and he’s not even there to defend himself, shit

blah blah blah just ask her your question already Toga

MY WORD

would someone please inform Toga that this manga is only rated PG-13

so now Ochako is all “seriously Toga wtf”

you see that’s what I wanted to know too, lol. I really like that the characters actually think about these things and ask these kind of questions. that’s exactly the contrast between the heroes and the villains right there. the villains care about each other, they’ll give each other heartwarming speeches to please come back alive, and yet they’re utterly indifferent to the thousands of people being killed as they demolish their way through city after city. meanwhile by contrast Ochako’s first thought upon being erotically waylaid by her sexy knife-wielding archnemesis is “but what about that poor old lady is she all right.” just completely opposite energies, almost to a hilarious degree. like maybe Ochako actually should worry about herself just a little bit more lol but heroes gonna hero

and so now what, Toga!! you’re gonna pout about it?? like she’s betrayed you somehow?

anyway so that’s the end of the chapter! and I’ll just come right out and say that I’m hoping that this fight ends up being something where Toga maybe starts to see things just a little bit more from Ochako’s point of view, and not the other way around, because otherwise I’ll be a little frustrated, ngl. the manga has done an excellent job of making the villains likeable and relatable and getting us to sympathize with them up till this point, but at some point it’s got to start refuting some of these arguments and making it clear that the villains do not actually have any kind of moral high ground here

and also! I really like Toga and would like her to have some kind of redemption arc! but as of now that’s looking to be really difficult if not impossible to pull off, because Toga hasn’t exactly shown a whole lot of remorse for anything she’s done so far, you know? because she doesn’t see it as bad in any way; to her it’s just her way of expressing love, and being true to who she is. but being true to yourself really should NOT involve, you know, MURDER, and so yeah. it’s a problem lmao

but who knows! maybe this battle with Ochako will be the start of something which eventually leads to some sort of change within her! I have absolutely no idea how that could play out tbh, but even so I can hope! either that or she will double down on the whole “villains are victims and heroes are apathetic cruel hypocrites” ideology and decide she wants to kill Ochako and Izuku for breaking her heart, in which case I will be very sad, but I guess if that’s the way Horikoshi’s gonna play it it is what it is!

and lastly, so is this going to be like the final battle between them or something?? surely not, right? like this is just round 2 of 3. well at any rate, it’s sure going to be interesting

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓

____________________________

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌!𝕭𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖞 𝖝 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙!𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖀

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When the Queen falls sick and passes away, King Bucky must marry another, preferably the princess of an alliance kingdom nearby, in order to keep peace and order among the lands. However she is the most god awful human being anyone has ever met. Her guard however well she was definitely not what the king expected.

cw: brief talk about buck being tortured, suggestive infertility with reader, graphic details about death, talking about a violent accident to the reader during the battle, that battle, loki’s death too sorry (loki x reader past)….

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: smut 18+ (‘bathtub’ sex!, oral!fem, praise kink, cockwarming; blink and you’ll miss it, loss of virginity but who cares lmao, unprotected sex but reader can’t have kids… sorry), digusting amount fo fluff hahaha part 4?

𝕬/𝖓: tbh i saw this bathroom pic on pintrest and it was huge like all made of stone and gold with stain glass windows and the tub was like a giant jacuzzi and honestly that's what i imagine the reader’s bathroom to be in this but feel free to imagine something else lol

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2.7k (big boy lol)

part one | part two | part three | part four |

_____________________________

flashbacks in italics*

Bucky separated from Charlotte and practically sprinted to you. You looked behind you to find Bucky saying goodbye to his friends; them all winking at him. You scoffed and continued walking to your bedroom. 

Usually during these big parties the king throws, you reside upstairs to bathe the world’s longest bath. You can’t normally take these because you're always needed for service whatever it may be. You left your door open for Bucky to easily find you knowing he was trailing close behind. 

You turned the corner to enter the bathroom you had and glanced at Bucky who was still down the hall. You decided to tease him a bit and began stripping your dress, letting him see only your bare back and barely the side of your breast. 

Bucky walked into your room and shut and locked the door immediately stripping away his coat and shirt along with his shoes as well. He slowly walked to the door of your very large bathroom and pushed it open slowly to see you walking down the steps of your bath filled with hot water. 

Seeing your entire nude body from the back making Bucky’s breath hitch in his throat. The water raised to the middle of your back and it was hot enough to see a bit of steam. Oh how Bucky wanted to ravish you and be the reason you're wet and not the water. 

“You gonna stand there and stare or would you like to join me?”

Bucky stumbled and nearly ripped his pants off his body trying to get to you. You turned back forward and waited until you heard the splashing water and felt his hands circling around your waist pulling flushed against his body. 

His face went to your neck and he kissed and nipped at the flesh making you hum in content. You’ve never been naked with a man before let alone bathe with one but something about Bucky’s hungry eyes and hands roaming your body made you feel powerful. You had him wrapped around your little finger and you loved it.

Bucky loved it too. 

“You are so beautiful, my love.”

Bucky’s hand traveled down your stomach towards your center. A place that no man has ever touched before. You almost forgot about- 

“What’s this?”

“Stop,” you grabbed his hand and pulled it away. You wanted to cry. You completely forgot about what you had. 

You wadded to the edge of the tub completely embarrassed and scared of how ignorant and stupid you felt. 

“Hey, hey. What happened? Did I do something?” Bucky whispered to you, running his hands up and down your arms.

“No! It’s just, it’s ugly. I’m ugly,” you cried.

“What? Darling you are not ugly. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How could you say such a thing about yourself?”

Bucky stopped for a minute and took the time to really look at your body now. He hadn’t realized until now but your entire back, shoulders, and arms with littered with painful scars; memories of the scary battles you partook on behalf of the kingdom. 

You sniffled and covered you breasts with your hands and arms as best as you could before slowly turning around to show the front of your body revealing a large, dark, and ridged scar across your entire abdomen. 

“It was the last battle before we retired.”

“Loki!” you screamed.

Smoke and fog from canons and the cold infiltrating your nose and lungs. You coughed and searched through the bodies and dirt that littered every inch of the battlefield. 

“I was with my partner and my love, Loki.”

“Loki!” you kept searching and shouting his name. You could hardly see through your thick metal helmet and ripped it off your head. You had to find him. 

“Loki! Where are you!” you screamed. 

Suddenly, a large man, a man like an ogre, came charging at you. You dropped your helmet and grabbed your sword and shield ready to take the fucker down. The rebels were at their peak of resistance and this battle had been your worst. 

Your men were dropping like flies and you couldn't hold them back much longer. And now you lost your best knight and your lover too. Loki Laufeyson.

You fought however. You were going to win the war. 

You gabbed your sword and cut the giant. He lunged forward and smacked your shield; you're still standing however. You danced around each other until you heard the familiar cry. Shouts and grunts you’ve heard a thousand times.

You turned and found Loki fighting another only feet away from you. The man took your turn away for advantage and lunged at you once again, completely impaling you with his makeshift sword. You were nailed to the ground literally screeching in pain. 

The man held your neck, cutting your airway, you could barely reach your sword to get him off you but your struggles were cut short when you looked to the side and found Loki being choked. He was lifted off the ground eyes turning red and skin turning blue. 

“They killed him,” you whispered to Bucky.

His neck was snapped in front of your eyes; his body collapsed to the ground limp. 

Your ears were ringing and everything went silent. You grabbed the sword and cut the throat of the man above you moving his body off you. You screamed and wailed for the loss of your love, your everything. 

“I was there for so long, his eyes staring at me with no life,” you broke down.

“Hey, hey, hey. I got you. It’s ok,” Bucky held  you. 

“It was so long ago; I moved on,” you said once you calmed down, “But it still hurts when I always have this constant reminder about what happened. What I could’ve done; I could’ve saved him.”

“You couldn’t have done anything more then what happened. Don’t blame yourself for that.”

“And all these scars and scratches remind me everyday of what I went through. It makes me want to ripped my skin off.”

“I know baby girl. I know exactly how that feels.”

You looked at him confused. He was a king, he had everything. How could he understand even the sheer amount of grief you went through?

He took a step away and you saw it. The scars that littered his body and the one across his chest and left shoulder. The scar shaped into a star on his left arm only to have come from branding by the rebels, Hydra they called themselves.

“Many, many years ago, I was taken from my parents by the rebels. They want goods or something, I don’t remember too much. They burned me and scarred me for information about my father merchants and traders. It went on for weeks. Until they left me for dead and moved on to different kingdoms I supposed. My father’s army found me else I wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve that,” you cupped his face. 

“But I’m here now stronger than ever and I know you are too.”

“It’s just, it’s hard. I have no one.”

“I know it is. And no you don’t have no one because whether or not there’s a marriage I’m still gonna be here for you and so is Natasha, Steve, and Sam. I’m pretty sure they love you more than they love me,” he chuckled as did you. 

“We are here for you now even if it doesn’t seem like it, you have us.”

“Bucky,” you whispered.

“Yes?”

“James….”

“Y/n….” 

“I love you, James.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you with passion and lust. You hands cupped his face leaning further into the kiss. His hands were placed on your back pulling your body flushed against his own; he could feel your breasts pressed against his chest. 

“You are so strong,” Bucky pulled away and said between kissing your neck.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He moved back a bit and sat on a stone step pulling you to sit on top of his legs. His hands moved all over your body touching every inch of skin you had still kissing your neck and collarbones. Your hands raked through his hair and he hummed at the feeling. 

His hands roamed to your ass lifting you slightly. He waited for you to continue but when he saw the hesitation in your face he let go of your body.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Nothing, it's just… When I was with Loki we decided to wait to, you know. But then he died and I’ve never loved another. Until you. I’ve never…”

“I understand. We don’t have to do anything, we could just bathe,” he smiled.

“No Bucky. I love you, so much. And I don’t know what our future holds. What if I never see you again after tomorrow?”

“Hey, we’ll be together. I promise. Nothing’s gonna take you away from me.”

He kissed you again this time if felt a little different. Like he was also scared that he was gonna lose you. 

You stood up a bit and wrapped your hand around Bucky’s cock. You pumped it a few times eliciting moans from him that was music to your eyes. You could spend eternity like this if you had the chance.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t tease me,” Bucky moaned.

“But you sound so lovely,” you smirked.

Bucky grabbed your hips and sat you over his cock not yet pulling you down; almost like a warning that he can plow into if he wants. And boy is that something you want. 

You looked into Bucky’s eyes as you slowly but surely sank down onto his dick. You hadn’t actually seen it yet and feeling it in your hand you expected him to be pretty big but now sinking down on him, he was fucking huge.

You tensed up a little bit feeling yourself being stretched by his cock. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re so beautiful,” Bucky praised, “Take your time, darling.”

“You’re so big, James.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It’s starting to feel better.”

You slowly moved up to sink down again; beginning to feel less pressure and pain and way more pleasure. You moaned a bit before covering your mouth in embarrassment about your lude sounds.

“Don’t do that; I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good my cock makes you feel.”

“It feels so good. Oh god,” you moaned.

You sped up the pace and your stomach felt like it was tightening in itself. This feeling was a whole new thing, but damn did it feel like heaven. Bucky started to join you in small thrusts up to you groaning in pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/n. You feel so good. So fucking tight.”

“Keep talking Bucky. Please,” you moaned; Bucky’s words bringing you closer to the edge.

“You like it when I tell you how good your pussy feels? You want me to tell you how gorgeous you are? How perfect?”

“Yes!” you sped up chasing that high that you desperately wanted. 

Bucky grunted and grabbed your hips rutting his hips into you making you scream in pleasure. Your head tossed back and your toes curled, you felt a wave of euphoria come over you as you climaxed for the first time. Bucky grunted loudly and pulled you into a feral kiss as he climaxed hard. 

You slumped forward in fatigue on Bucky, his hands rubbing softly up and down your back. You stayed in silence for a minute before you moved to look up at Buck. 

“That was amazing,” you whispered, making him laugh.

Bucky lifted you and sat you on the dry stone counter kissing you softly. He dried you with towels and took you to your bed kissing your body up and down; kissing each scar. 

“”What are you doing?” you smiled at him.

“Oh baby, I’m not done with you,” his voice low with lust, making you incredibly aroused.

Bucky kissed your large scar on your belly and whispered how he loved you and how beautiful you were. Your heart fluttered at his words, tears pooled in your eyes. You could feel Bucky’s breath against your inner thighs and your head shot up.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you were confused as to what he was doing.

“I wanna taste you, doll. Is that ok? I promised it’ll feel good,” he assured you.

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“Can I?”

“Yes,” you whispered, barely audible.

Bucky licked up your folds and your hips jerked at the new feeling. He brought his hands up and spread your legs open for more room. His tongue moved up and down brushing your clit making you squirm underneath him. 

Bucky inserted a finger and pumped it in and out of your pussy, following with another soon after. Your body thrashed under him; another orgasm approaching fast. You moaned and cried at the intense pleasure that Bucky was giving you, the best feeling you’ve ever felt.

“Oh god Bucky, that feels so fucking good,” you hands entangled themselves in his hair.

Your back arched off the bed, your cum dripping down Bucky’s chin. It was truly a beautiful sight. Bucky lapped up everything you gave him and wiped his chin with his hand before kissing you. He positioned himself above, his hips settled between your thighs.

“You think you can be a good girl and give me one more?” Bucky positioned himself at your entrance.

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl.”

“Good,” Bucky thrusted fast into you, making you moan loudly.

“That’s baby, let the whole damn kingdom know who’s fucking you this good. Tell me, say it to me.”

“You’re fucking me so good! You feel so good, ah!” tears fell down your cheeks from immense pleasure.

“God, I love you, Y/n,” he buried his face into your neck, nipping at the skin. He was getting closer to another orgasm and his thrusts were getting wild and animalistic.

“I love you Bucky,” you said to him, bringing his forehead to yours. Hands scratching at his back.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again!”

“I love you, James. So much.”

You and Bucky both climax together, shouting ecstasy. His body rolled over to the side, his cock still inside you, pulling into him. Your head resting on his lightly sweaty chest. His hands scratched lightly on your back making your skin break out in chills. 

“Are you ok?” Bucky asked you.

“Yes. I'm perfect.”

“Good. I was scared that maybe I pushed you too far.”

“No, I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

There was a brief moment of silence; you almost fell asleep. 

“Tomorrow I’m going to ask the king for your hand instead.”

“What?” you head rose quickly.

“I mean it. I spoke with Charlotte before I came here and turns out she too loves someone else.”

“Henry,” you whispered.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I’ve sent letters to the duke’s home a couple times. She spoke a lot of his son; a good man. I didn't realize she may actually have fallen in love with him.”

“She did and I’m pretty sure like me, she went to tell her one true love that they love them. Very much. More than anything in the whole world.”

“You sap,” you laughed.

“I mean it. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“And if the king says no? You’re supposed to marry his daughter, not his knight.”

“I know, but I’ll make him say yes. I swear,” Bucky kissed you.

“Good night, James.” 

“Good night, my love.” 

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𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@velvetcardiganbucky ​

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TLTNL- THE HOUSE OF GUANT

Now James knew he was missing a joke, and he never appreciated that, not even from his beloved wife. She continued in uncontrollable giggles for a solid ten minutes before he cracked and asked her, again, "what is so funny?" Like before, she merely pressed her lips together tight, but still didn't have back full control of her voice when she answered, "you wouldn't get it, promise. Old joke, I'm honestly over reacting." Finishing did seem to draw her up short, and she looked away from all of them now, no longer smiling.

She wasn't even sure herself why she wouldn't tell them. It certainly had nothing to do with Severus himself, she couldn't cling anymore to that protective urge to keep the Marauders out of their life, a life they hadn't shared in a very long time now. So what if the boys knew Harry had happened upon Snape's old Potions book, they probably would find it ironically funny after they were done bad-mouthing him yet again. Still the words wouldn't come, in explanation for them or herself, and so was relieved when Remus gave in first as she knew he would. The other three boys had a terrible habit of being nosy in all things, thinking they could find out the answer to anything. At least Remus respected when someone didn't want to answer a question, something she genuinely valued right now.

For or the rest of the week's Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Harry's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented.

Sirius at least still found that hilarious, releasing Lily from his curious look to snicker at that some more. Harry had found the best way ever to cheat, though he was quite sure if Slughorn did find out he'd take the book back away, it still wasn't technically doing anything wrong.

Neither Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this. Although Harry had offered to share his book with both of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not keep asking Harry to read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the "official" instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince's.

Remus got a good chuckle out of that as well, of all the ways Harry had chosen to annoy his friends, he'd picked a book.

"I'm really surprised at Hermione," Sirius said. "I'd have thought she'd murder Harry by now to get herself on a better copy of a book."

"I'm sure she would have, if Harry hadn't shown off with it first," Remus smirked. "Now she's going to stand by her principal."

James didn't acknowledge the pair, still keeping steady eyes on his wife, waiting for her to crack any second. He'd had years of practice.

Lily hardly noticed, she was thinking carefully about this, and found it something she'd never thought of before. Had Snape been teaching his way of Potions for the past years? For now, she didn't think so, and perhaps he had just been giving instructions straight from the books, hoarding his knowledge of their way over the kid's heads. It seemed the type of thing this perversion of her friend would do. It explained why Harry nor his friends would recognize the handwriting as well.

  Harry wondered vaguely who the Half-Blood Prince had been. Although the amount of homework they had been given prevented him from reading the whole of his copy of Advanced Potion-Making, he had skimmed through it sufficiently to see that there was barely a page on which the Prince had not made additional notes, not all of them concerned with potion-making. Here and there were directions for what looked like spells that the Prince had made up himself.

Harry whistled in surprise, also still watching his mum, unable to shake the feeling she really did know the answer. Lily misinterpreted his curious look, or ignored it, and explained, "of course spells can be made up, they all have to start from somewhere."

"How though?" He let himself be sidetracked, giving in himself and letting her play this off however she liked. He could understand not wanting to answer for some things.

"Taking the base root of magic and channeling it into spells is complex, to utilize that further is to begin creating it yourself. For example if there weren't a spell to bring something to you, the ideal way to create one would be to learn in what way your using your magic to repel something from you. In our particular case, as we use Latin, finding the correct combination of words, movement, and power to magic what you're wanting to you would create, well, the summoning spell." Her eyes remained distant through all this, like she was spouting a lecture more than looking at her son for once. "Supposedly other countries would vary of course, and it is why there's different spells to do one thing. Others found a multitude of ways to accomplish their goals. It's extremely dangerous," she finished cautioning, her eyes far away still, lost in thought, or memories.

Harry was admittedly less fascinated by this than he would have thought, she came across easily as one of his teachers when using that tone, but admitted to himself he'd never before bothered to question this so thanked her for the answer and asked Remus to go on.

Or herself, Hermione corrected irritably, overhearing Harry pointing some of these out to Ron in the common room on Saturday evening. She thought the handwriting looked like a girls.

Lily snorted violently, but tried to cover it by clasping her hand to her nose and sniffling as if it had been a sneeze. She fooled no one.

Harry reminded her of the name, how many girls went by the title of Prince?

"Thought it was more like a made up name, but the same principle stands, not to many girls would go by that title," Remus agreed absently.

Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She merely scowled and twitched her essay on The Principles of Rematerialization away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.

"She could be a bit more helpful to him, he's been on her side a lot this year," Sirius chuckled.

Harry looked at his watch and hurriedly put the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making back into his bag. It was five to eight, he was going to be late for Dumbledore.

Sirius pressed a hand to his forehead, looking wide-eyed and concerned at his pup. "Did you really almost miss that because you were looking at a book?!"

Harry made a face at him, not sure how to explain his fascination with this. Yet another simple book made him uneasy in a way he couldn't explain, and he was starting to wonder if he'd dismissed Ginny to easily.

Hermione looked back up at once with excitement, promising they'd stay up and hear everything.

Harry proceeded through deserted corridors, though he had to step hastily behind a statue when Professor Trelawney appeared around a corner,

"I thought you had your cloak on you at all times?" Sirius asked.

"You should know better than anyone," Harry rolled his eyes, "that jumping to hide behind something is ten times faster than dragging the cloak out of my pocket."

Sirius nodded in agreement, though in his experience he often wandered the castle in it just for shits and giggles to startle other students.

muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.

The two of spades: conflict, she murmured, as she passed the place where Harry crouched, hidden. Then the seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner-

"That was, oddly specific," Remus muttered, more confused than anything.

"Damn, Harry needs to stay away from those cards," Sirius chuckled, though his laughter was a bit strained this time. He still didn't like how eerily accurate Trelawney's predictions were, even when he was out of the picture now.

She stopped dead, right on the other side of Harry's statue.

She muttered to herself that couldn't be right, now annoyed, and Harry heard her reshuffling vigorously as she set off again,

Both of them burst out laughing that she managed to dismiss herself the one time she'd been so right. The woman's jokes wrote themselves. Lily joined in after a few moments, trying to push the subject away for now, but James hardly noticed, still scrutinizing her.

leaving nothing but a whiff of cooking sherry behind her. Harry waited until he was quite sure she had gone, then hurried off again until he reached the spot in the seventh-floor corridor where a single gargoyle stood against the wall. After giving the password and waiting for the spiral stairs, Harry knocked and waited for Dumbledore to allow him to come in.

They greeted each other politely, Dumbledore hoping Harry had a good first week.

"Better than the last one," Harry muttered, who would have thought he'd still manage to favor Snape over Umbridge.

Harry agreed he had, though Dumbledore chuckled what a busy week it must have been, already having a detention.

James finally looked away from Lily at that, not exactly looking satisfied but engaging his son again, "couldn't be prouder! First starting school points in the negative, now this! You are my legacy."

The boys all chuckled while Lily scoffed, trying to hide her own smile. None of them could really get too worked up over it, anything other than Umbridge's detentions would be laughable.

Harry awkwardly tried to answer, but Dumbledore did not look too stern, simply explaining he'd rearranged with Snape that he would be doing his detention next Saturday instead.

"Damn, was hoping I'd just get out of it," Harry sighed, already knowing from last year this wasn't likely.

Harry agreed without care, he had more pressing matters on his mind than Snapes detention, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what Dumbledore was planning to do with him this evening. The circular office looked just as it always did; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames, and Dumbledore's magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watching Harry with bright interest. It did not even look as though Dumbledore had cleared a space for dueling practice.

"I'm sure if you were dueling you wouldn't be doing it in there," Remus corrected, still not convinced that's what this was.

Dumbledore's tone became all business as he addressed this himself, starting with their last conversation and how he'd promise to explain what began Voldemort's attempts to kill Harry fifteen years ago.

"Like?" Sirius drew the word out impatiently. Remus hadn't meant to hesitate, his mind spinning wildly with curiosity, but quickly kept going before Sirius' impatience really pushed through.

Harry pointed out Dumbledore had said he'd already told him everything.

"I think he meant everything relevant to you," Lily offered, though she too was wondering what prompted Dumbledore to continue many months after saying this.

Dumbledore agreed he'd told Harry every fact he knew. Now they would be delving into the thickets of guesswork, what transpired from here could be as wrong as Humphrey Belchers desire for a cheese cauldron.

James burst out with surprised laughter, but all of them were looking more curious than ever for this. It wasn't at all what they'd been thinking it was, and more than that, what would Dumbledore have to be guessing at? While clearly not infallible, as his time with Harry had proven to them, but in what way could this help?

Harry didn't even have the urge to crack a smile for the same. He had that feeling, like he was being lied to, but for the life of him couldn't put his finger on what it was about.

Harry pointed out Dumbledore would think his ideas were right. Dumbledore agreed, but pointed out that he made mistakes, and being cleverer than most, his mistakes tended to be correspondingly larger.

"Nope, not going to disagree with that." The snarky tone Remus used still weirded Sirius out, he'd never heard of his friend speak that way about him and it wasn't something he would get used to easily.

Harry tentatively asked if this would help him with the prophecy? With surviving?

"Well I'd bloody hope so," James worked hard not to say this with a scowl. "We certainly don't need him guessing how that cheese cauldron invention worked instead."

Dumbledore agreed it had everything to do with the prophecy, and he had high hopes it would help him to survive. He then got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, who turned eagerly in his seat to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin etched with odd markings around its rim. He placed the Pensive on the desk in front of Harry. He noticed Harry looked worried.

They could all see that clearly, and couldn't blame him. So far, no foray into that thing had done much good for his life except depressing the lot of them, James still felt immensely uneasy about his son's reaction to the last one.

Harry had indeed been eyeing the Pensive with some apprehension. His previous experiences with the odd device that stored and revealed thoughts and memories, though highly instructive, had also been uncomfortable. The last time he had disturbed its contents, he had seen much more than he would have wished. But Dumbledore was smiling, saying he would be entering with Harry, and even more unusually, with permission.

"There is a first time for everything," Lily chuckled.

Harry asked what memory they'd be seeing? Dumbledore pulled a tiny vial from his pocket and explained Bob Ogden, an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd died some time ago, but not before Dumbledore had tracked him down and persuaded him to offer these recollections.

"If he died some time ago, why was he just sitting on these memories? Wouldn't he have looked at them long before now?" Harry asked, knowing he'd been to curious about this to ask Dumbledore but the idea still seemed odd.

"I wish we did know more about that man's inner workings," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"It's also possible he has already looked at this, and simply extracted it to show you now, giving you a physical representation of the memory," Lily offered a bit more helpfully.

They were going to be accompanying him upon one of his duties. But Dumbledore was having difficulty pulling out the stopper of the crystal bottle: His injured hand seemed stiff and painful.

Harry offered to do it, but instead Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bottle and the cork flew out.

"Why wouldn't he do that first?" James looked baffled, he'd never bothered otherwise.

Harry asked again what had happened to his hand, looking at the blackened fingers with a mixture of revulsion and pity.

"Asking until they finally crack probably won't work on Dumbledore," Sirius sighed.

"It certainly didn't work on Moony," James agreed.

Dumbledore corrected now was not the time for that story, as he tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve. He prompted Harry to go first. He felt his feet leave the office floor; he was falling, falling through whirling darkness and then, quite suddenly, he was blinking in dazzling sunlight. Before his eyes had adjusted, Dumbledore landed beside him.

They were standing in a country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a summer sky as bright and blue as a forget-me-not. Some ten feet in front of them stood a short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to molelike specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road. Harry knew this must be Ogden; he was the only person in sight, and he was also wearing the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles: in this case, a frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume.

James and Sirius were the only ones who didn't break out into snickers at such a display, but they laughed along anyways for their reactions to it.

Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre appearance, however, Ogden had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.

Dumbledore and Harry followed. As they passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing after Ogden said Little Hangleton, 1 mile.

None would easily forget the nightmarish start to Harry's fourth year, and didn't at all appreciate him being back in that environment. Harry couldn't help shivering again at once, memories of that graveyard he still had nightmares about likely over the next hill... but that wasn't even his worst memory anymore. He'd face Voldemort all over again to erase what he'd truly lost only a year later, so he controlled himself hopefully before the others lingering looks could fill with too much pity.

They walked a short way with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. Harry could see a village, undoubtedly Little Hangleton, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible.

Remus' voice hitched uncomfortably at their horrifying thought being so right, and only the constant reminder Harry wasn't really there stopped them all from panicking in their own flashback of his time there. Even Dumbledore being present was of some comfort, a feeling they were sure they wouldn't get often, but as the only man left in Harry's life, they had nothing else to rely on.

Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was a handsome manor house surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn.

"Was it not rundown yet?" Sirius demanded, his tone too sharp for the casual question, but he'd do anything to keep conversation alive rather than dwell on other things present.

"Doesn't seem that way, or not nearly as much as it will be, as surely Harry would have noticed," Remus agreed.

"This must have been quite some time ago then, at least before Voldemort murdered his Muggle family," Sirius concluded, the knowledge doing little to comfort him Harry was back around there, even in a memory.

Dumbledore and Harry followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping down-hill like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Dumbledore and Harry came to a halt behind Ogden, who had stopped and drawn his wand.

Despite the cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It seemed to him a very strange location to choose for a house, or else an odd decision to leave the trees growing nearby, blocking all light and the view of the valley below.

"I'm imagining that was the point," Sirius muttered darkly at once. Anyone who would purposely cast their house in shadows like that instantly reminded him of the Black house.

He wondered whether it was inhabited; its walls were mossy and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime.

Lily felt an unease set upon her just as much as Sirius for that description. Surely a man from the Magical Law Enforcement wouldn't be there unless it was inhabited, so whoever did live there was no one she wanted to hear of.

Just as he had concluded that nobody could possibly live there, however, one of the windows was thrown open with a clatter, and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though somebody was cooking.

Ogden moved forward quietly and, it seemed to Harry, rather cautiously.

"Can you blame him?" James muttered.

As the dark shadows of the trees slid over him, he stopped again, staring at the front door, to which somebody had nailed a dead snake.

Harry hadn't yet been able to relax since this began, and that only made him feel worse. While no personal liking for the beasts, he understood no one would do that if it were anything but a warning.

Then there was a rustle and a crack, and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of Ogden, who leapt backward so fast he stood on the tails of his frock coat and stumbled.

The stranger spoke, you're not welcome.

The man standing before them had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and Harry could not blame Ogden for backing away several more paces before he spoke of a good evening, he was with the Ministry-

The stranger repeated himself dismissively.

Ogden nervously said he didn't understand.

Harry thought Ogden was being extremely dim; the stranger was making himself very clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other.

"In his defense," Remus tried to say as mildly as he could, ignoring how much he was failing as this continued to get worse for Ogden, "the Ministry aren't really ever told that, no matter how much we may think it."

Dumbledore quietly asked of Harry he understood this.

"Why wouldn't he?" Sirius muttered, finding it more odd by the moment what exactly Dumbledore was showing Harry.

Harry agreed, wondering aloud now why wouldn't Ogden, then his eyes found the dead snake on the door again, he suddenly understood that man was speaking Parseltongue.

"Oh," the others muttered in surprise. It was not really something they thought about often, even with one sitting in the room.

Harry just grimaced, thinking how he couldn't blame the majority of wizards thinking this a Dark language when people like this used it for conversation. Then he really kept thinking about it and asked quietly, "can you learn Parseltongue?"

"Not that I'm aware of," James said slowly, not wishing to be untruthful, but he'd never particularly tried either.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then seemed to say another question than what had originally been on his mind, "Is that why Dumbledore brought me along then? To translate this?"

"Possibly," Lily agreed quietly. Harry's questions had done nothing to deflect what everyone around him was thinking, including himself. Tom Riddle had claimed to be the last heir to Slytherin, and if these people spoke Parseltongue, than they could well be meeting his mother in this place. It made as much sense as anything, how many were there in the world, and someone just happened to be speaking it in the same town as Voldemort's father would one day be. Already, they could tell it wasn't going to go well.

Dumbledore agreed.

The man in rags was now advancing on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other. There was a bang, and Ogden was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

A loud voice hollard at Morfin!

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than the first, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey.

"Isn't that how you described Slytherin in the Chamber?" Sirius sighed, he didn't like thinking about that place any more than Prongs, but their idea just seemed more confirmed by the line.

"Sadly," Harry agreed.

He came to a halt beside the man with the knife, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of Ogden on the ground.

The older man presumed him as Ministry at once.

Ogden agreed as much while dabbing at his face, presuming him as Mr. Gaunt.

Gaunt agreed, dismissively saying maybe his face wouldn't look like that if he'd made his presence more known.

"If he doesn't have up alert charms, there's not many other ways to warn there's someone on your property," Remus rolled his eyes at this daft statement.

This was private property and his son was defending himself.

Ogden protested defending himself against what?

"I must give this man credit for still sticking around at this point," Lily murmured, hoping he came back out with the same limbs he went in with.

Ogden pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once. Mr. Gaunt spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Morfin to get back in the house.

This time, ready for it, Harry recognized Parseltongue; even while he could understand what was being said, he distinguished the weird hissing noise that was all Ogden could hear.

Harry did blink in some confusion though as he asked, "I thought you could only speak to snakes like that, not other people."

"I'd presume with practice you could say it whenever, like any language," Remus offered. "Yours may be a bit more limited, considering it, well, you-" he stuttered and ended quickly without trying to finish that while Harry looked away, not meeting his or anyone's eyes.

Morfin seemed to be on the point of disagreeing, but when his father cast him a threatening look he changed his mind, lumbering away to the cottage with an odd rolling gait and slamming the front door behind him, so that the snake swung sadly again.

"Please stop mentioning that," James muttered, it got more disturbing every time.

Ogden protested he was here to see Morfin, but the old man interrupted by asking if he was a pure-blood?

Harry wanted to laugh at such a question being thrown out, it reminded him too much of his first meeting with Malfoy, and even he hadn't been as bad.

Ogden coldly returned that was neither here nor there, and Harry felt his respect for Ogden rise.

"Agreed, though I'd have liked a more colorful response," Sirius sneered, this Gaunt man was reminding him too much of his dad on his worst days.

Apparently Gaunt felt rather differently.

He squinted into Ogdens face and muttered, in what was clearly supposed to be an offensive tone that he thought he'd seen other noses of that kind down in the village.

"I'm sure all noses look the same to your disfigured one," James huffed.

Ogden said he wouldn't be surprised if his son was let around them.

All five of them burst out laughing for the man's wit, they really did like him now.

He got back on topic by saying an owl had been sent here-

Gaunt interrupted he had no use for owls, and didn't open letters.

"Probably can't read them," Sirius muttered.

Ogden tartly responded he could hardly complain of no warning of visitors then.

"This man's a delight, please tell me he still works there," Lily snickered while the boys laughed even louder.

He was here following a serious breach of Wizarding law,

"I've done no such thing!" He paused, considered it, and finished anyways, "yet."

Remus cracked the book over his head for the poor joke while Harry gave a half-hearted laugh.

Gaunt bellowed at him he could come inside, not that it would do any good.

"I could have told him that already," James sighed. "I'd have given him a fine already, and when he ignored that, bloody arrested him for his poor hospitality."

"Making it rather a good thing you may not choose to be an Auror anymore," Lily chuckled to herself. Ogden had already shown more patience than even she could have managed with such a person.

The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room combined. Morfin was sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue:

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

You be good to Morfin

Or he'll nail you to the door.

"I could have done without that translation, thank you," Sirius grumbled.

There was a scuffling noise in the corner beside the open window, and Harry realized that there was somebody else in the room, a girl whose ragged gray dress was the exact color of the dirty stone wall behind her. She was standing beside a steaming pot on a grimy black stove, and was fiddling around with the shelf of squalid-looking pots and pans above it. Her hair was lank and dull and she had a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes, like her brother's, stared in opposite directions. She looked a little cleaner than the two men, but Harry thought he had never seen a more defeated-looking person.

Lily sighed heavily, already wanting to croon over this poor family. That boy and girl, they only acted the way they did because of that sham of a father Gaunt no doubt, and his parents before. This was clearly a rotten line that would continue to suffer down the ages, creating their circumstances now. Details of Harry's second year kept trickling back to her, how Tom Riddle grew up in an orphanage. He should consider himself lucky, that had to be better than this pit.

Gaunt waved vaguely to his daughter Merope as introduction, and Ogden politely gave her a good morning.

She did not answer, but with a frightened glance at her father turned her back on the room and continued shifting the pots on the shelf behind her.

Ogden got straight to the point of Morfin, who had reportedly used Magic in front of Muggles last night-

There was a clang cutting off his words, Merope had dropped one of the pots.

Gaunt shouted at her, using all manner of insults in between, to pick it up. When she bent down to do so, he called her a filthy Muggle and told her to use her wand!

Ogden tried to step in, but Merope, who had already picked up the pot, flushed blotchily scarlet, lost her grip on the pot again, drew her wand shakily from her pocket, pointed it at the pot, and muttered a hasty, inaudible spell that caused the pot to shoot across the floor away from her, hit the opposite wall, and crack in two.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle, though he wished her spell had misfired on this Gaunt's head instead.

Morfin let out a mad cackle of laughter. Gaunt screamed at her to mend it, with more insults.

James worked furiously with his jaw to stop himself shouting back, getting in the way of this girl and showing this tosser what's what. Shouting at her like that, he was as bad as Vernon!

Merope stumbled across the room, but before she had time to raise her wand, Ogden had lifted his own and already mended it.

Gaunt looked for a moment as though he was going to shout at Ogden, but seemed to think better of it:

"Didn't know he had it in him," Remus snarked quietly.

Instead, he jeered at his daughter how lucky it was of her the man had done that, maybe he'd get lucky and the Ministry would take her off his hands, useless Squib she was.

Harry felt a deep churning of pity for this poor girl mixing with a question he was chewing on, but decided to ask anyways, "thought Squibs couldn't do magic? She just did."

"You're exactly right, she's clearly magical, and this arse shouldn't be near another breathing thing," Lily seethed. She tried to keep the anger out of her voice when speaking to her son, but it was hard. It was maddening to realize this had already happened, there would be no happy ending for this poor girl who would die giving birth to Voldemort of all people.

Without looking at anybody or thanking Ogden, Merope picked up the pot and returned it, hands trembling, to its shelf. She then stood quite still, her back against the wall between the filthy window and the stove, as though she wished for nothing more than to sink into the stone and vanish.

Ogden almost pleaded now to stay on topic, the reason of his visit. Morfin had broken Wizarding law-

Gaunt imitated Ogdens voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again and hissed he'd taught that filthy Muggle a lesson, that was illegal now?

"Yes," all five of them muttered in disgust, wishing they could return the favor in kind.

Yes, Ogden agreed, it was. He pulled from an inside pocket a small scroll of parchment and unrolled it, saying his sentence was a summons to the Ministry for a hearing-

Gaunt was outraged, who did this man think he was to summon them anywhere!

Ogden stated Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.

"Yeah, that'll do it," Remus chuckled.

Harry sighed in agitation, wishing he'd gotten some friendly man to give him a summons rather than Fudge expelling him for doing the opposite of this Morfin.

Gaunt started advancing on Ogden now, thinking he'd been accused of being called scum! He wouldn't stand it from a filthy Mudblood!

Remus didn't know why he was so surprised given everything around this place, but he still came to a stuttering stop and glared at the filthy word he'd just said.

Lily turned pale as a sheet and twitched for her wand, and the other three boys all looked likely to pitch him off a tower after a good stunner was placed on him for that. Why was Dumbledore showing Harry this? It was nothing but infuriating to the lot of them.

Ogden was now looking wary but stood his ground.

"A brave man, honestly," Sirius murmured, still prepared any moment for curses to start flying.

For a moment, Harry thought Gaunt was making an obscene hand gesture, but then realized that he was showing Ogden the ugly, black-stoned ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Ogden's eyes.

"A two for one?" James offered, his eyes still narrowed and ruining the joke, not that he cared.

Harry didn't even hear him, his mind scrambling desperately as he tried to make something click together, something very obvious, important, and vital, but that blinding pain was back in full force, threatening his mind for even considering pushing into thinking about this. He wasn't even sure if the others noticed his dilemma, wrapped up as he was.

Honestly they didn't, thinking Harry's pained expression was the same as theirs hearing of this happening.

Gaunt shouted this was a centuries old ring through his pure-blood line, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on it!

James blinked in surprise at that though, wondering if Moony and Padfoot had even heard it for all the muttered cursings they were still giving at that nasty little speech. Like Sirius, he liked to pretend the majority of his pureblood side of the family didn't exist for reasons exactly like this monster, and for this to just be shoved into conversation like that really made him sympathize with Sirius yet again.

Ogden tried to ignore the ring sailing inches from his nose and keep on track, but with a howl of rage, Gaunt ran toward his daughter. For a split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment, he was dragging her toward Ogden by a gold chain around her neck.

Hauling her with him, he shouted about how that was Salazar Slytherin's! They were his last living descendants, what did he make of that?!

First the ring, now this, Harry was quite sure his head was going to pop off in moments for the sharp pain being caused. He could tell the others still weren't grasping why this was shown except to depress them, but there was a significance here he was sure he was missing, if only this pain would leave and he could just think for a moment...

Ogden shouted in alarm about the girl being strangled during this,

"I'm feeling, he doesn't care, ten times more emotion than he's ever shown for anything but what he just said," Sirius sneered.

but Gaunt had already released Merope; she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging her neck and gulping for air.

Gaunt stood triumphantly now, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute.

Lily sneered in disgust, as if this grimy ape could put two and two together with his brain capacity.

He spat on the floor at Ogdens feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing.

Ogden insisted this had nothing to do with why he was here, Morfin had accosted a Muggle last night.

"Credit to this man!" Remus blinked in disbelief Ogden was still trying! "I'm with Prongs, can't believe he's bothering to still try!"

"Didn't get to be head for nothing I suppose," Sirius tried for a chuckle.

Their information was that Morfin preformed some jinx or hex on a Muggle, causing him to erupt in hives.

Desperately, so that Harry could think of anything else for a moment, he threw out, "Ministry will come far since I turn fifteen. They knew the exact spell and time it was used. Here, Ogden makes it sound like it was all very general."

Lily wrapped a reassuring arm around him, mistaking that pained expression for his loathing of these circumstances, though that was in there as well. "Magic is always adapting love. What was this, twenty years ago or more from now, I can see how they wouldn't yet be able to more than just determine magic was used in an area. They're finding new ways every day to narrow in on the source, what was once a town became a city block, a house."

Harry nodded to indicate he heard, the pain in his temple not alleviated at all.

Morfin giggled.

Giant hissed at him in Parseltongue to remain quiet before returning to English and demanding of Ogden that the Ministry had already wiped the filthy Muggles mind of it and cleaned him up.

Ogden protested that wasn't the point, it was an unprovoked attack.

Gaunt sneered he'd already had him marked as a Muggle-lover.

Ogden finally said this was getting them nowhere. His sons attitude made it clear he did not regret his actions,

"This can't have been the first offense either," Lily's twitching frown didn't seem likely to vanish anytime soon. "If he's as old as I'm thinking."

"Gaunt probably does keep him on a tight leash though, perhaps the other night he got loose," Sirius snarled with far to much familiarity in his tone, and Lily didn't want to know what that meant.

He glanced down at his scroll of parchment again and read when Morfin would be attending his hearing with the charges of-

Ogden broke off. The jingling, clopping sounds of horses and loud, laughing voices were drifting in through the open window. Apparently the winding lane to the village passed very close to the copse where the house stood. Gaunt froze, listening, his eyes wide. Morfin hissed and turned his face toward the sounds, his expression hungry. Merope raised her head. Her face, Harry saw, was starkly white.

An unfamiliar girls voice was asking of Tom why didn't his father have that hovel cleared away.

"Oh dear," James muttered. Tom was a common enough name though, surely they weren't really fixing to see the other half of the equation that led to their current existence...

A young man's voice replied that wasn't their property, though everything else in this valley did. It was owned by an old tramp named Gaunt, whose children were quite mad.

The girl laughed, and the sounds of horses drawing nearer grew louder.

Morfin made to get out of his chair, but Gaunt hissed at him to keep his seat.

Morfin instead hissed at his sister that Tom had called that woman darling, he clearly already had someone and wouldn't have her anyway.

"This will not go well," Remus said through numb lips. He couldn't imagine Voldemort even being born now. From all they'd seen, the woman they'd pegged as his mother was fixing to drop dead from the hand of her father.

Merope was so white Harry felt sure she was going to faint.

Gaunt turned sharply to her, demanding what that meant.

Merope was shaking her head in protest even as her brother explained her fixation with that Tom, it's why he'd gone out last night-

Gaunt roared at her, hanging after a Muggle!

Lily wanted to cover her ears. She fought back against the impulse only just, but couldn't shake the man so easily strangling his daughter not moments before. Surely the only thing holding her life so far in this waste was waiting for her to be mature enough to give birth to her brothers child, to carry on the precious lineage Gaunt so clearly favored, but even that thought may not hold back what could have happened to her next.

All three of the Gaunts seemed to have forgotten Ogden, who was looking both bewildered and irritated at this renewed outbreak of incomprehensible hissing and rasping.

Gaunt began advancing on her, still hissing a string of insults about his pureblood childs audacity.

Even in his fear for that child James felt his face spasm in disgust, he couldn't stand hearing that kind of talk, and the oddity of it coming from Moony's voice wasn't getting any easier to hear.

Merope shook her head frantically, pressing herself into the wall, apparently unable to speak.

Gaunt lost control and his hands closed around his daughter's throat.

Both Harry and Ogden yelled No! at the same time; Ogden raised his wand and cried, Relashio to free her.

Gaunt was thrown backward, away from his daughter; he tripped over a chair and fell flat on his back. With a roar of rage, Morfin leapt out of his chair and ran at Ogden, brandishing his bloody knife and firing hexes indiscriminately from his wand.

Ogden ran for his life. Dumbledore indicated that they ought to follow and Harry obeyed, Merope's screams echoing in his ears.

Ogden hurtled up the path and erupted onto the main lane, his arms over his head, where he collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a gray horse roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank and set off again, his frock coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust, running pell-mell up the lane.

"I, wouldn't think that very funny," Sirius said slowly, knowing there weren't many things he couldn't make a joke of, but he was sure even he'd find that more alarming than amusing.

Dumbledore deemed that enough for today. He took Harry by the elbow and tugged. Next moment, they were both soaring weightlessly through darkness, until they landed squarely on their feet, back in Dumbledore's now twilit office.

The moment they'd landed Harry asked what had happened to that girl.

Lily gently touched his shoulder in thanks, and then frowned in concern when he didn't relax at her touch. He may still feel deep sympathy for that poor girl, but even that couldn't distract him from fighting the battle his mind was in, still stuck on that memory like a craw in his tooth, but with no way to get it out he could yet know.

Dumbledore passively said she survived. She was in fact left in peace, when Ogden returned fifteen minutes later to arrest Morfin and his father. Morfin received three years in Azkaban, Marvolo six months.

Sirius shivered unhappily at the mention of that place. There was a happier time where he'd sneer, demand that was all they'd gotten for their crimes, but he couldn't imagine ever saying a thing like that again.

Harry was shocked at the name Marvolo, Dumbledore nodding his approval that Harry recognized that as the middle name of Voldemort, his grandfather.

"Bloody hell!" James went bug eyed. It really didn't click until that moment, even though they'd known Voldemort's full name for a few days now, even seeing the horrid excuse for a human the Dark Lord's wizard grandfather was, couldn't have made him really understand what he'd just heard. "Merope named her kid after that, that-" there weren't words for such a creature!

"You got me," Harry sighed in agreement.

He went on to elaborate the Gaunts were the last of their dwindling line. Several generations of only marrying cousins,

"They aren't the only ones," Sirius stated in clipped tones, and Harry was almost sad he didn't need to ask.

and squandering their riches had left Marvolo an arrogant and proud man more consumed with his remaining heirlooms more than his daughter.

"Which doesn't make a lick of sense!" Lily seethed. "Even in his warped reality, his child! She'd carry on his bloodline, clearly what he valued more than anything, how-" she could never grasp the idea of how you could be that way to your child for any reason.

Harry pieced together the rest, that Merope was Voldemort's mother, and the man on the horse had been Tom Riddle. He still couldn't believe they'd married, unable to imagine two people less likely to fall in love.

"Why thank you, I'm glad your own heritage has finally surpassed that level of surprise," James tried for a laugh that still came out wrong. He couldn't wrap his head around it any more than Harry.

Harry shook his head at his dad, even that memory wasn't as disturbing as the one he'd just witnessed.

Dumbledore reminded they'd have to be doing a bit of guesswork here, but Dumbledore speculated that after being free of her eighteen year imprisonment from her family,

"She was eighteen by that point?" Lily murmured in surprise. She'd been picturing someone much smaller, though she supposed many aspects had led to that.

her magic had a chance to flourish, and she'd duped Tom into such a romance.

Harry suggested the Imperius Curse, or a love potion.

Dumbledore erred towards the second, it wouldn't be too hard for the girl to find him alone one hot day and offer him a drink. It was quite the town scandal, the squire's son running off with the tramp's daughter.

Sirius' mouth flopped open. Even in his shock though, he couldn't feel anything but more pity for this girl. As horrid a thing as she'd done, after that kind of life, he could justify almost anything she'd do, including giving birth to Voldemort.

The villagers weren't the only ones stunned, when Marvolo returned home to find his other child had vanished with his precious heirlooms, he may well have died from shock of that. Perhaps he had never learned to feed himself either, but never the less, he did not live to see Morfin released from prison.

Tom had returned of course, only a short time later. This was more guesswork, but Dumbledore believed that when she was carrying his child, she'd either convinced herself his love was real, or he would stay for the child. Both turned out false, and Tom returned with the story it had all started in this way.

"That's still much kinder than she was due, and it actually happened," James muttered with a torn expression in place. He wanted to hate this girl, for letting her fantasy ruin their lives, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, even by the means she'd used.

He never again went to find out what happened to his child.

"Something that would bite him in his own arse a few years later," Remus sighed, putting together the rest of the story in his head.

"I can't see Tom Sr. doing much good even if he did stick around," Lily had a fascinating look on her face even as it was still flushed red from many things to do with all this. "I've never even heard of this, a love potion being taken so far. I can't imagine the man would care for what he'd been forced to love, and even if he had stuck around," she shook her head deeply, hiding her hair in her face so as not to give away where her mind was wandering back to now.

Dumbledore dismissed Harry for the night then, but first Harry asked if it was really important, learning all this about Voldemort's past.

Funny, how Harry hadn't heard the question brought up in here, but he could see it simmering on all of them. He wondered what held them back from demanding it, and even more, why he wanted to laugh at his past self. Already he could feel the beginnings of a puzzle, one very essential to his life.

Dumbledore agreed extremely important, and it had everything to do with the prophecy.

Harry still felt confused, but agreed with some reassurance.

"I can see it," Remus tried to put into words what he thought was Dumbledore's thinking on this. "To understand your enemy is to know as much as you can about them. I'm not yet sure, obviously we haven't exactly found his self-destruct button, as Sirius has been known to so eloquently put it, but maybe if he keeps digging," he trailed off suggestively, and Harry nodded eagerly. Already he could feel the fog lifting, even the hint of an answer of the horizon making the pain once more bearable as he stopped trying to push so hard to understand all this.

He turned to go, then another question occurred to him, and he turned back again to ask if he was allowed to tell Ron and Hermione all this.

James snorted. "Ask for forgiveness, not permission," he scolded.

"And then don't even bother to ask for that," Sirius agreed with an eye roll.

"After what he said over the summer, I certainly can't see him telling you no," Lily agreed after glaring at the two for departing such wisdom.

Dumbledore considered him for a moment before agreeing, but insisted no one else.

"Who else would they tell it to?" Remus scoffed. "I can't see Hermione sharing this with Luna, and her decision to put another article in her magazine. You three have always kept things close to the vest."

"Guess Dumbledore was just being safe," Harry shrugged.

As Harry was leaving he spotted something new on a spindle table, the same ring Dumbledore had been wearing over the summer, the same one from the memory they'd just saw. Harry gasped how he'd come across Marvolo Gaunt's ring?

Harry's breath hitched in his throat, his trembling hands wanting to reach out now and hold his parents to him. What about this ring, more than anything else he'd yet heard of, made him want to cling to them tighter than ever? To again check on Sirius and Remus, make sure they weren't some spectral figures from his nightmares. He hated this thing being mentioned, and yet at the same time, could hardly breathe when it was, wanting so badly to understand!

James patted Harry's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, letting out a low whistle and offering, "bet that's worth a shiny sickle," recalling how ancient it was.

"Can't imagine how he got it, without dragging it from Gaunts hand," Sirius made a little face of disgust why Dumbledore even had.

Dumbledore half answered he'd acquired it only a few days before he'd fetched Harry.

Harry realized that also meant around the time he'd injured his hand, but Dumbledore merely promised that story would come in due time.

"Ooh, finally getting something out of this," Remus muttered with far more interest than he actually felt, Harry still hadn't returned to normal color. This whole chapter was just a mess for him.

Harry hesitated. Dumbledore was smiling. Then he told Harry goodnight.

Sirius growled in agitation, but all things considered, that wasn't the worst way this chapter could have ended. At least they'd gone two whole chapters now without his death being brought up, so they were honestly on a roll.

Harry's mind was still lingering on this with unease, and he tried to erase some of that as he asked, "well Dumbledore didn't ask me a single thing of what they said, so he either must have figured it out for himself or does know Parseltongue."

"That man's a mystery to us all," Remus bitterly grumbled, making Harry wince again and Remus to shift uneasily at bringing this up himself. He knew he couldn't avoid the topic much longer, maybe he should just air it out with Harry...

HPHPHPHP

Did I lie? Yeah, yeah a bit, but I do still promise you'll get all the explanations I've always offered in the past. Why does Lily know that's his when they stopped being friends at the end of their fifth year but he wouldn't get that book until the next? I do promise it'll all come in time.

[axwalker]

Undeniable Miracle 2: Stranded

I’m participating in the 12 days of Christmas hosted by  @leelee10898 and @emichelle . Thank you so much  💕 💕

Synopsis: Alexis decides to leave Cordonia on Christmas Eve, but she has a car accident in the middle of the woods during a snow storm.

A/N: This AU takes place during Liam’s and Madeleine’s Engagement Tour.

A/N 2: Some vocabulary for the Spanish words.

A/N 3: I’m using the prompt: “If you’re so cold, why didn’t you say something? Come here.” requested by @mskaneko​ 

Fonda: Small Mexican restaurant.

Romeritos:  Tender sprigs of seepweed  which are boiled and served in a mole sauce seasoned with shrimp jerky blended into the mix. Typical additional ingredients include boiled potatoes, nopales and shrimp. They are usually served with bread slices and in tacos

Ensalada de manzana: combination of lettuce, beets, apple, and peanuts in a light orange vinaigrette

Bacalao:  Cod fish prepped with sautee onion, garlic, tomatoes and olives.

Pozole: Tradition Mexican soup made with Hominy, pork and peppers.

Villancicos: Traditional Christmas songs.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything for this chapter but there will be NSFW in future chapters. All my fics are for 18+ ONLY.

Words: 2718

Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Pixelberry.

@burnsoslow Thank you so much for beta read and for your encouragement. I love you and appreciate you so much.

The edit of the mood board is the work of beautiful @mskanekoI was dying to use it. I love youuu

When he sees I don't respond, he opens my door. "O'Brien? Are you okay?"

I blink, incapable of forming a coherent sentence. 

"Did you hit your head? You seem lost." Drake kneels in front of me.

Finally, I react. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hello to you too. I asked if you were okay."

"I'm fine. I need to call a tow truck."

"Yeah, right. There are no tow trucks in storms like this, O'Brien." He sighs and asks me to open the car's hood so he can check the engine. Five minutes later, he comes back, and I read his expression. The car is not going anywhere.  

"Sorry, O'Brien, but this car is not going to work for now, and the storm is getting worse. You're going to have to come with me."

I scoff. Drake is insane if he thinks I'll go anywhere with him. I've spent the last two months trying to forget everything about him; I don't need this right now. 

 "I'm sure I can find a way to get to Lythikos by myself."

"Shit, you're so damn stubborn, O'Brien. You aren't anywhere near there. It's about 50 miles away. I guess if your car had kept going about 50 miles through the woods, you might have landed there. Is that what you were trying to do?"

"Bite me, Drake."

"Wow, you really should do something about that attitude of yours." The asshole actually smirked. "I have a cabin a few miles up the road. We can go there and wait out the storm. My truck is parked on the road. I pulled over when I saw the car spinning."

"I'll wait here." 

"You'll wait for what? To freeze to death? Don't be ridiculous; you're coming with me."

I shake my head stubbornly. "I think freezing to death is preferable to going with you. Thank you very much." 

"You don't have much of a choice, O'Brien. I can't fuckin' leave you here. My cell phone doesn't work here, and I'm assuming yours doesn't either or else you'd be on it right now. They're expecting two feet of snow or more. So, I'm sorry if you're pissed at me or whatever, I'm not leaving you here."

I'm well aware that I'm behaving like a petulant, spoiled child, but my wish to make him as angry as I am overcomes all logical thinking. “As I said, I’m not going.”

 "I'm going to have to carry you to my truck then." 

"Carry me? No way. You are not touching me." I grab my phone again, begging my Abuela to send me just a little bit of phone service so I can call Max. 

"Either you get out of that by yourself, or I carry you. You have exactly 30 seconds to decide."

I shut my door and raise my phone, trying to get some signal. Suddenly, Drake opens the door, reaches into the car, and has me scooped up without effort into his arms before I can even protest. I barely have time to grab my purse. 

"Enough of your bullshit. Done," he states, then kicks my door shut and starts to walk up the snowy hill. 

I have no choice but to put my arms around his neck. "Let me go this second Walker!"

Drake stares at me and gently shoves a strand of hair off my face. I'm suddenly aware of how close our faces, our lips, are. Because my heart is stupid and has a mind of its own, it starts beating like crazy. Drake swallows hard, and for a second, I think he's going to kiss me; I'm almost closing my eyes when he speaks.

"Here we are." He puts me back on the ground and opens the door of his old Jeep. 

A bark coming from the backseat startles me.  

"Oh my god! He's beautiful! He looks like a wolf!"

Drake's eyes soften when he pets the animal.

"It's a Tamaskan dog." 

"Hi, boy! You're so cute!"

"He's not supposed to be cute; he's supposed to be terrifying." I turn my head, and I see he's teasing me. I shake my head and keep talking to the dog. "Don't listen to your dad, handsome; you're a cutie pie." 

"I'm not his dad. He's a damn dog, O'Brien." 

I rolled my eyes. "What's his name?" 

"Zeppelin. Get in the Jeep; I'm freezing my ass off out here."

I smirked at him. "I never realized how bossy you are." 

He shakes his head, but I catch the unwilling smile on his face. 

DRAKE

I glance to the seat next to me, still not believing that O'Brien is here, in my Jeep. I try to think of something else besides her maddening fruity scent or the curve of her neck, but I already know that my ability to function like a normal human being disappears when she's around. 

 I can't believe that I'm so fucking stupid to be still hung up on her after what happened in Ramsford. She made perfectly clear who she wanted to be with -- yet here I am, looking at her like a goddamn fool. 

We drive for a few minutes in complete silence. Suddenly a deer jumps out from the woods, right in front of the Jeep. I hear Alexis scream as I swerve, and the truck starts to slide and spin, gaining speed. In a second, I glance at her, throwing one arm across her chest to hold her against the seat when I see she doesn't have her seatbelt on. I try to regain control of the truck but it's not working. I feel the Jeep flying off the road and into the woods, crashing downhill and plowing down small trees, until it finally stops, wedged amongst a bunch of larger trees on the side of a hill. 

"Fuck!" I throw both hands against the steering wheel. "I can't fucking believe this shit!" I turn to O'Brien. "And why the fuck wasn't your seatbelt on?" 

“I thought you could drive!" She looks down at my arm, still holding her, and whispers, "Thank you." 

I rest my head against the wheel and take several deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." My voice is level and calm, even if the thought that something could've happened to her while I was driving makes me murderous. "Are you okay?" She nods, still shaken. 

 "You okay, Zeppelin?" The dog whimpers and licks my hand. "That's a good boy. We're all okay." I try to restart the truck, but it's completely dead. I can't believe this; honestly, I just can't.

 "What are we going to do now?" O'Brien asks.

 "Well, we're out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we're stuck here." 

She squints at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Walker."

"But the highest form of intelligence, O'Brien." I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes at me again. I've forgotten how much I loved teasing her. At least, I wish I had forgotten. "We're going to have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we'll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we're in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to the cabin. I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then. I have a big blanket in the back seat, so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It's really heavy and thick."

I saw the panic in her eyes, so I continued. "Hey, O'Brien, look at me." She raises those fucking beautiful dark eyes and meets my gaze. "I would never let anything happen to you, okay?"

She nods. "Okay. Yes, I know. I just hope we don't get hypothermia.”

"We won't, O'Brien. C'mon, I think we should both sit in the back seat, since there's a lot of room back there, and we can put the blanket over both of us. I think it will help keep us warmer."

She gives me an odd look but nods. "Right. Yes. I think it's the best idea." She climbs over the seat first, and my eyes roam over her perfect body. I suppress the urge to sink my hands in her delicious hips and sit her on my lap. I sigh and call Zeppelin to the front seat, so we have more space. 

"This is nice; it's very roomy," she says as she pulls the cover over both our legs. 

I can see that she's shivering. "If you're so cold, why didn't you say something? Come here." I put my coat on her shoulders, and she smiles at me. Fuck me if I wouldn't do almost anything for that smile. "Where were you going on Christmas Eve? I' would've thought you'd go to the Christmas ball in the palace."

She hesitates for a few seconds, but finally, she answers, "I was going to spend Christmas with Olivia in Lythikos."

I raise my brow in disbelief. "I must have a concussion, O'Brien; I just heard you were headed to Lythikos to spend Christmas with Olivia Nevrakis."  

"I know! Our friendship was … unexpected. At first, we were just trying to figure out who set us up. The whole Tariq thing that you stopped? It was a trap; someone was trying to blackmail both of us." 

I don’t want her to know that I spend every single free minute I have helping Max figure out who set her up. If I ever find the person who sent Tariq to her room that night and scared the shit out of her, I will kill him. 

"Yes, O'Brien, I knew. Liam told me."

She nodded. "Well, we're trying to get to the bottom of it together, so we've been spending a lot of late nights drinking bourbon and talking. She hides it very well under layers of sarcasm and abrasiveness, but she's extremely loyal and has a great heart. Just like you."

"If you compare me to that crazy redhead one more time, you'll be sleeping outside, O'Brien, and I can promise you, it's cold." 

She laughs. "Okay, okay, sorry. I won't do it again."  

I'm about to ask her why she's not spending Christmas with Liam, but she speaks before I can talk. "And you? What are you doing here?"

"I moved to a town close to Lythikos a month ago. I'm opening a veterinary clinic there. This morning I went to supervise the construction site and to get some groceries for the cabin." 

She looks pensive but doesn't say anything for a while. "I hope you're happier here than you were in the palace, Drake,"she finally says, so softly that I almost miss it. 

I take a deep breath because I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell her that I can't be happy now, not after her. When I kissed her that night, I lost everything. She would never be mine, and after that, we couldn’t even be friends anymore.

"Thank you, O'Brien," I reply anyway because I know she's expecting some sort of answer.

 "How did you get Zeppelin?" she asks as she pets my dog, and I swear the traitor's mouth curls up into a little doggy smile. 

"I was running some errands for the clinic when I saw him tied up outside. I came back a few weeks later on a sunny day, and this poor dog is just tied up to a fence on the side of the building with no shade or anything, and I don't even see a water dish or food. So I park my car and check on him, and he's all happy to have someone pet him, tail wagging like mad. There was an old food dish off to the side, but it was empty, and a dish with some dirty water. I went to my house and grabbed some of the toys and food I'd bought for the clinic. I also gave him some water, and he drank three fucking bowls. I felt terrible leaving him. I just had this bad gut feeling, you know?" She nods with misty eyes. "Anyway, I had to go back to Cordonia city after I gave the dog the stuff. To be honest, I kind of forgot about him. But when I came back, O'Brien, it was awful. I honestly think the last time he ate was the food I'd given him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak even to stand up. He was just lying there in the dirt with flies buzzing all around him. But when I kneeled in front of him, his little tail wagged a tiny bit. I think he remembered me." 

Tears spring into her eyes. "My God, Drake, what happened?" 

I see how affected she is, so I reach her hand and squeeze it. "An old man came out of the little building and started yelling at me to get off his property. There was just no fucking way I was going to leave him there. I told him that if I ever saw a dog or any other animal on his property ever again, I would fucking kill him. The douchebag just ran back to the house. I took the dog to my cabin. He was dehydrated and almost starved to death, had two ear infections, worms — you name it. We've been together ever since." Zeppelin looks up as if he knows we're talking about him. 

She wipes a tear and caresses Zeppelin's ear. "You named him?"

I shrug. "Best band ever." 

"Ha! You're so predictable, Walker."

 "How do you know my last name? I never gave it to you." 

"I asked Maxwell at the coronation. Why? You don't like it when I call you that? Turnabout's fair play, Walker." She bits her bottom lip; I look away before the impulse to kiss her becomes unbearable, and I do something stupid. Again.  

"Nah, I like it, O'Brien. Calling each other by our last names will be our thing." 

She sighs, not talking for a while. "What is it, O'Brien? I can almost see the wheels turning in your head."

"We're going to spend Christmas Eve here, stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"I know; I'm sorry, O’Brien. Do you usually do something special?"

She looks up to me with so much vulnerability in her pretty face, I find it hard to breathe. I instinctively come close to her because I hate that look in her eyes; I hate even more that I was the one who put put it there with my fucking dumb question. Her mom and grandma are dead; of course it's a sad subject.

 "Not in a long time. It was one of the holidays my mom, my Abuelita and I celebrated together. We didn't really do Halloween because my mom's Fonda was so busy preparing for Dia de Muertos. The day of the dead," she explains.

 "I know, O'Brien. You made me watch Coco with you and Maxwell in Applewood." I can't help but smile at the memory. She forced us to watch the damn movie in Spanish only to hit "pause" at every single scene to translate it and explain the traditions.

 "Well, Coco had it right! They really respected our traditions!" she replied, her eyes shining as they always did when she was excited. "Anyway, my mom worked for most holidays, and I was forced to spend Thanksgiving with my dad, his crazy wife, and her creepy son. So, Christmas was the best. Especially Nochebuena, Christmas Eve. We had this huge dinner where all our neighbors came to the house and brought Mexican dishes. We had everything; bacalao, romeritos, ensalada de manzana, and the best pozole in Brooklyn. We sang villancicos, had a piñata. The whole thing. My abuela took the holidays seriously," she says with a sad smile. 

I might be a fucking fool, but I can't stand seeing her this sad. And, suddenly, I know what to do. "We might not be able to have a traditional Mexican Nochebona ..."

She giggles. "No-che-bue-na, Drake."  

I think I could spend the rest of my life here listening to her speaking Spanish.“Yeah, that.” I watch through the window and when I see that the storm has calmed, I say, “I have an idea; just wait here." 

Tagging: 

@texaskitten30  @leelee10898 @emichelle @burnsoslow @kat-tia801

@msjr0119 @twinkleallnight @mskaneko @drakexwillow @twinkle-320  @kimmiedoo5 @kingliam2019  @drakexwillow @princessleac1 @marshmallowsandfire  @tinkie1973 

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hello! um I was wondering if you could do a NSFW wrecker alphabet please?👀

A/N: Please remember to REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!! I cannot emphasis enough that these take just as much time to create as drabbles or one-shots.  Give headcanons some love. 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cuddles.  That’s it.  Just cuddles.  He’ll pull you right on top of him and keep you there until you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ass man, through and through.  In particular the curve of your waist leading down to your ass.  Honestly, that general lower area is his personally favorite.

For himself, he’s a fan of his general torso.  He knows he’s strong and takes great pride in that.  So being able to show off his barrelled chest and strong arms is a treat for him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His favorite place to cum in all over your skin; your stomach, back, face, it’s all fair game to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s keeps a holo of him fucking you saved on his data pad.  It’s gotten him through plenty a lonely night.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few one night stands since going out in the field.  He knows what he likes and he get a sense of what his partners like in him and plays it to his advantage. So, more experience than other clones, but not a player.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

From behind with you bent over something: a desk, a table, a control board anything where he can stand as he plows into you.  It’s frankly more comfortable for him to stand, plus he gets to set the pace all while getting a perfect view of your ass.

Really, any standing position is great for him.  There have been a few times he’s picked you up in his arms and just started fucking you with nothing to lean against or hold onto.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Wrecker is...let’s just say enthusiastic.  So, there are plenty of moments of laughter and joking during sex.  He makes it fun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He surprisingly keeps it pretty trim down there.  If he’s shaving his head, he might as well do the rest.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s not that emotional or romantic during sex.  Sex is more like a fun activity to get the endorphins going.  You’re both there for a good time and to let off some steam. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He surprisingly doesn’t do it that often.  Once he’s with you, his hand doesn’t seem all that appealing.  Every now and then it gets to the point where working out doesn’t help and he needs to let off some steam another way.  But, most of the time he can wait until he sees you again.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size Kink.  I really don’t think I need to explain this one.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any flat surface in the Marauder.  I’m not even kidding.  Bed, holotable, against the wall, so long as it’s in the Havoc Marauder, he’s happy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any successful mission, he’s ready to throw you over his shoulder had have a night of fun victory sex.  Really, after than good fight in which he won.  It gets his blood pumping, in a variety of directions.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Being tied up.  He has to be at least touching you at all times.  He likes the control it gives him and hates the feeling of being helpless.  It’s not fun for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s good a giving, but he’d by lying if he said he didn’t like receiving way more.  You can’t even begin to take all of him in your mouth, but that somehow makes it even hotter.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way.  This is another fun way to get rid of some tension.  So that means fast, rough, enthusiastic sex with a lot of broken headboards and table legs to account for.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely down whenever you want one.  It’s one of his favorite things to do.  Bonus points if it’s just before the start of a mission.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Is down for trying different positions, but not really anything more besides that.  He prefers sex being between his body and yours, nothing else.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina might as well be his middle name.  He can get you off up to three times before he cums once.  And he’s usually good for up to three rounds.  You have to suck him off at least once in order to give the rest of your body any kind of break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really his thing.  Call it pride, but he prefers being able to do all the work himself.  Besides, this is about your bodies and your bodies exclusively.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Absolutely not.  He’s willing to wait until he can see you again, but once he does, he’s not waiting any more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Unashamedly loud.  Loud laughter, loud grunts, and plenty of dirty talk and jokes. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s not afraid to get handsy with you in-front of his brothers.  He’s got no shame when it comes to his sex life, not to mention it makes Crosshair uncomfortable which he just finds hilarious.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Wrecker is huge.  Like porn star big.  Like, this may legitimately hurt if you take all of him at once big.  He’s certainly proud, but it also means a lot of foreplay to get you ready for him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high.  As I said, all it takes is one good fight to get him going and the man does like to fight...a lot.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Maybe five or ten minutes after you’re finished for the night.  Just long enough to get you in a comfortable position on his chest and feel your fingers brush against his skin before he doses off.

[transsergio]

Emotions That I Simply Do Not Have (Read on AO3)

Chapter 3 - His And Hers, For Better Or Worse Chapter 2 - I'm Not Gonna Repeat Myself Chapter 1 - More Like A Relapse

Penemily + Hotchreid / Mature / 2011 words in this chapter

Emily and Penelope put their plan into motion; Spencer arrives. (This is the final chapter of this fic! thank you to everyone who kept up with it this week!)

Hotch’s advances stop. Or, become marginally less obvious.

In his third text this week, Hotch asks, “Do you need anything from break room?” It is only Tuesday. Emily knows that if she lifts her head, she will see his beady black eyes through the glass. He’ll be staring at her, hoping to see her fingers working over her tiny keys, telling him that yes, she’d appreciate a bottle of water or any other menial task that will bring him out to the bullpen. She’d rather text Penelope to peek through the security cameras, to see exactly how far their one-night stand has gotten her. Yes, sleeping with the boss comes with great advantages, like your office becoming a cage.

Emily does her paperwork in silence. She’s hellbent on leaving at four forty-five, no matter what Hotch might throw at her to keep her in his line of sight. At four thirty, Emily turns off her cell’s ringer. She is escaping to her salvation, a night of face masks and a season rerun of the Bachelor with her girlfriend. As she closes down her computer and organizes her files, she glances about. Derek is long gone, citing a date with his television, couch, and dog. Reid finished his work hours ago, but plays chess against himself until Emily’s ready to head out together. And JJ is on a phone call, likely with Will, likely about to tell their son she’ll be home a little late again. Emily doesn’t see Rossi, but at his age, you never know how many bathroom breaks he’ll need.

As Emily rises with her back to Hotch’s door, Reid follows. They head to the elevators. She’s excited to dish about her later plans, as Spencer is her only known ally outside of Penelope. In return, Spencer tells her about his last date.

“You’re saying he forced you to make eye contact?” Emily asks as the elevator encapsulates them.

“Yeah. It was the most uncomfortable dinner I’ve had yet. Every time I was looking elsewhere while I spoke, he’d say, ‘Eyes on me.’ I don’t think we’ll be going out again,” Spencer adds with a chuckle.

Emily raises her eyebrows. “No kidding. Maybe we could get him on some kind of watchlist for bad first impressions.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I did block his number before the night was over.”

Emily laughs and bumps Spencer with her elbow. “I don’t blame you.”

The elevator dings and releases them on the parking level. Emily makes for her car and Spencer for the subway, despite Emily’s repeat offer to drop Spencer off herself. A part of her is glad, though. She wants to get home fast and not leave a second empty.

By home, of course, she means Penelope’s apartment in all its purple and glitter. They’re settled in her living room by five-thirty, television hooked up and face masks elegantly adorned, a blanket solidifying them as one happy mass. They plow through three episodes before they remember the masks could’ve come off halfway through the first, and that they haven’t ordered dinner.

“Pizza sound good?” Emily emerges from their cocoon, stretches, and finds Penelope’s stash of takeout menus in the kitchen.

Penelope joins her at the counter. “Hm. Maybe Thai? Wait, what’s with the face?”

“Nothing.” Emily tries to mask her shudder. “Just… Hotch, he mentioned something about Thai in one of his messages.”

“What, did it give him diarrhea?” Penelope teases. She looks for Emily’s little smile and the crease between her eyebrows, the sign that Penelope was funny even if Emily won’t admit it. It doesn’t come. Penelope recalibrates. “No worries. We'll get something else then.”

“I’m sick of it, Pen,” Emily says. She slaps the menus down. “If he’s making my job harder and me less effective, why should I stay in the department? Our communication is horrible, I’m agitated in the field, and I can’t get him to stop. I’m running out of options.”

“Okay, slow down.” Penelope rubs Emily’s back in light, soothing circles. “You’re hungry and fed up, and you have every right to be, but let’s have some food before making big decisions like leaving the job that lets me call you every hour. I’ll pick. You get comfy. Go, shoo.” And she scoots Emily into the living room with a pat on the ass.

“Fine,” Emily raises her hands in surrender, “fine, I’m going.”

When dinner arrives (gyros from the Mediterranean place a couple blocks over), Emily devours hers. It’s gone before Penelope can pry the foil from her own meal, and Emily’s head is where her plate used to be.

“Oh, Angel,” Penelope sympathizes. “It’s going to be fine.”

Emily nods against the table. “Yeah, I think so. But I don’t want him fired. He’s a good leader, and he needs this job. His wife died, and before that they were in witness protection. That’s got to do something to a person, right? He risked everything and he lost it all.”

Penelope chews thoughtfully. “Maybe we don’t need to get Hotch fired, but we can play it like survival of the fittest – as long as you’re faster than somebody else, he won’t catch you.”

“What?”

“I was watching this thing on the Discovery channel about jungle cats hunting and how they go for the weakest of the pack. It was really sad because you don’t want the lions to starve and at the same time you don’t want the antelope to die, but that’s not the point. If we latch him onto someone else, he’ll forget all about you.” Penelope wipes her hands clean. “Like magic, you’re free!”

For a moment, Emily has hope. Of course they can hook him up with someone else. It’s what every classic sitcom Emily raised herself on has implemented. There’s only one problem. “We don’t know any single straight women.”

A wicked smile flashes across Penelope’s face. “Who said anything about a woman?”

*

“Are you sure you want to do this? A workplace relationship is exactly what I’m running from,” Emily says.

Spencer’s voice crackles over the line. “It’s honestly fine. According to the exit polls of the 2008 elections, about four percent of Americans were gay, lesbian, or bisexual. Roughly one-hundred and thirty-one point three million people voted. If every vote counted also answered that exit poll, that would be approximately five million, two-hundred and fifty-two thousand people identifying as such.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotch could be one of them, is all I’m saying.”

“Right. But I want to be sure you’re comfortable.”

“Emily, I promise. I wouldn’t be going if I couldn’t handle it. Besides, if he’s as straight as he looks, we’ll have awkward small talk and I’ll go home. It won’t kill me.”

“If you say so. Oh, I’ve got to go, Spence. Good luck,” Emily says. She snaps her phone shut and turns.

Penelope stands in her kitchen with two glasses of wine. She wears neon pink lingerie, a 1960’s inspired sheer robe with fur trim, layered over a matching slip.

“You’ve got to go?” Penelope sips her glass and leaves a pink lipstick print around the rim. “You’re going to leave me here all alone?”

Emily bites her lip. “Not a chance.”

*

An hour later, Emily and Penelope are curled around one another in Penelope’s lavender sheets. They’re sweaty, warm, and flushed.

“And you thought I couldn’t take your mind off it,” Penelope smirks. Her bragging is part bravado; she’s honestly glad Emily didn’t rip her robe to pieces.

“Eh,” Emily pants. “All part of my plan. I know how you love to be right.” And wow, did it ever feel so good to be wrong.

Penelope giggles and toys with Emily’s hair. She loves this part especially. When it’s just them, sleepy and well cared for, and Emily seems so defenseless. Her eyes are softer, her muscles lighter, and she lets Penelope put her loose strands into tiny braids. But this time, one of their ringers pops the bubble.

Emily hoists herself up and snatches her cell phone from the nightstand.

She turns to Penelope and mouths, “It’s Spence.”

Penelope hisses back, “Put him on speaker, dummy!”

So she does. The voices on the other end are muffled by fabric. It’s as if the phone is being rolled through a load of laundry. Penelope fumbles for the mute button and silences their side.

“It’s a butt-dial,” she says, her heart beating as rapidly as it was just minutes ago. “Oh my god, we really are secret agents.”

Emily tries not to encourage her. It’s thrilling, obviously, but her stomach twists. They’re invading Spencer’s privacy. “We should hang up.”

“Yeah, we really should,” Penelope agrees. Emily reaches for the red button that will disconnect them when they finally hear clearly.

“Um, is Jack home?” Spencer wonders.

“No, he’s with Jessica. If this is about a case, I don’t need to chance him hearing the details.”

“Actually,” Spencer coughs, “this is more of a… personal matter.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Hotch sounds genuine enough. He probably thinks of Spencer like a son. Emily wants to pull Spencer out and abort the plan. This is too far.

“I noticed you and Prentiss haven’t been cooperating well lately.” Spencer says, so naturally. “Emily’s my friend, and I was wondering if there’s anything I can do to help?”

A beat passes. “No, nothing that I’m aware of.��� Hotch answers. “I respect you and your intentions, Spencer, but I don’t know—”

Spencer is curt. “I think you do.”

“I do, what?”

“You know. I think you might be the problem actually, sir.”

When Hotch doesn’t respond, Spencer continues. “I think you and Emily have a sexual history together. I think you’ve been trying to repeat that history, and she doesn’t want to. I think you’re looking for a way to forget Haley while you grieve her, and that you believe Emily is the solution. In reality, you’re looking for someone to dominate and let you feel in control while your life spirals out from under you, and for someone who will reject you so these wishes go unfulfilled and you aren’t at fault – the other party is. I think it stems from the guilt you feel regarding Haley’s death, both in that you blame yourself for making her a target, and that you couldn’t stop Foyet from killing her.”

Emily and Penelope exchange glances. Spencer has said everything the team considered privately, and tied it back to Prentiss in one neat, factual statement. All that was left was the aspect the team couldn’t predict; how Hotch would react.

“Do you want a drink, Reid?”

What?

“Uh, sure? What- what kind?”

“I have scotch, lemonade, and Juicy Juice.”

“Lemonade sounds good.”

“Good.”

Dishes clatter as Hotch pours for them. Emily and Penelope wait, hanging up completely disregarded.

A cushion wheezes nearby. Hotch’s voice is now much closer. They can feel his vibrato through the tinny speakers. He asks, “Are you confident in your profile?”

Spencer takes a gulp of his drink. “Fairly so, sir, yes.”

“And if I asked you to prove it?”

“Sir?”

“You’re positing that I want to dominate someone and simultaneously, am hoping to be rejected. If you’re right, I’ll make my move and be discouraged when you give me the go-ahead. Maybe I’ll even have a breakdown. Sobbing, psychosis, the works. Do you want to find out?”

“Okay,” Penelope throws up her hands. “This feels icky again. No. Uh-uh. I don’t wanna know.”

Emily shushes her sharply. They’ve just missed a piece of the conversation. “Hold on, hold on.”

“And you’re sure about this?” Hotch questions.

“I’m sick of everyone asking me that.” The other line rustles into white noise. Briefly, it clears. They hear two gasps and what has to be the fumble of bodies.

Hotch rasps, “Come upstairs.”

“And that’s enough!” Penelope slaps the cell phone shut. “I need some air.”

“No kidding.” Emily shakes her head. “Maybe I missed my shot.”

“You take that back.”

Emily leans into her girlfriend, grinning all the while. “Make me.”

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Human Again

Echo barked orders as the staff while digging a mountain of dust out of the candle holders and polishing them until the iron shined. Cole had only given them a day to get this ballroom perfect, so they had no chance to slack off. Not if they wanted this curse broken. Jay pushed a rag as big as him across the window clearing away trails of dust and leaving the clean stain glass glittering in his wake. Pixal sighed as she whipped her forehead from exhaustion.

She had been helping Ultra Violet and Harumi clean the stained glass ceiling, and her wings ached from their constant fluttering.

Harumi unhooked the tapestries and drapes and gathered them into a pile that Nelson gathered for washing. Down below Neuro and Tox swept away a century of dirt and dust from the frosty glass floor and out over the balcony. Unfortunately, once the chandeliers, ceilings, and windows were done, more dust caked the floor in dark clumps. Echo gazed over their progress from the chandeliers and groaned. After hours of cleaning the ballroom still needed a lot of work, but he was determined.

The first layer of dust and the cobwebs had been cleared from the windows and chandeliers, they just had to clean the rest of the place.

But with some of the staff still doing the regular chores and Shade still deciding what to make and gathering ingredients, they had little help. There was no point in asking Griffin. The second Echo told him about the ball, he had locked himself in his studio. It was only a matter of time before Harumi joined him. Sensing the poor team morale, Echo cleared his throat loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"Right then! You all know why we're here! We have exactly twelve hours, thirty-six minutes, and fifteen seconds to create the most magical, spontaneous, romantic atmosphere known to man or beast." He chuckled weakly at his little joke, but no one else did, so he got more serious. "Right then, I'm sure that I don't need to remind you all that if the flame goes out of the candle, the spell will never be broken!"

"Lighten up Echo and let nature take its course!" Ronin called out and the others all made sounds of agreement.

"It's obvious there's a spark between them." Nelson giggled.

"Yeah but there's no harm in fanning the flames a little; if we pull this off, and Kai is the key, we could all finally be human again!" Tox cheered with starry eyes.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, Tox," Neuro chided gently.

"I don't think she's that far off," Harumi answered. "I mean it's obvious there's something going on between those two, and, think about it; have any of you actually thought of what it would be like to be human again? Finally human after all this time?" She asked and everyone in the room suddenly paused. They had thought of that. They still remembered the earlier days of their cursed existences when they could only take the form of the monsters they were cursed too.

How difficult it had been to change between their physical and spectral forms.

How tricky it had been to muster enough energy to maintain a physical body in their human appearances, but even then they only lasted a short time. Shade couldn't even leave the kitchen without the risk of fading away forever. He may not say it, but everyone knew it hurt the chef more than anyone. Over the last one hundred years, they had feared, hated, despised, and relished in their new existences. They eventually started doing what they had always done and lived their lives to the fullest and trying to make each day a little better than the last.

Even with the dark curse looming over their heads, they had had time to prepare for it.

To accept it. To come to terms with it whether the curse was broken or not. But when Cole had fallen into despair and nothing the staff could do could change his moods or bring him out of the dark, lonely existence he had accepted for himself, they too seemed chained to their fate by despair. But the past four to five months had changed all that. Kai's presence in the castle had given them a spark of hope and they were no longer afraid to continue to live their lives again.

This time they prepared for two outcomes.

Their end which if that was the case they would go to with no regrets knowing they were loyal to Cole to the end and knowing they lived their lives to the best of their ability. The other one was where the spell is broken and they become human and their lives began all over again. Even though all of them were hoping for the latter, it was still terrifying regardless. The thought of being human again. Of the possibility of a new life and the chance to either remain in the castle that had always been their home or to start over in a new one.

Either one promised its own laughs and tears, its own joys and heartaches, but wasn't that what freedom was?

Wasn't that what being human truly meant?

"I'm not sure what I'd do if I were human again," Tox pondered to herself."I don't really think I'd leave here, I mean, as much as I love to leave the castle for once and see the kingdom again and what's changed in the last century, I don't really think I'd have any other place to go, this is my home after all; I guess, I'd just live like I have been, doing what I love until the day I die, and to be honest, I am getting sick of constantly being so young." She smiled and looked at her hands with a chuckle.

"Oh, I can't wait to start aging again!" Nelson added, immediately.

"I am so sick of looking like a teen! I swear I don't care if I grow old and die, if this is what being young forever is like, then all those children's tales can keep their immortality and eternal youth nonsense," Echo chided, sweeping up a cloud of dust in his anger until a laughing Jay stopped him.

"I second that." Ronin raised his hand. "Honestly, though, I think I'd like to find something else to do, I mean I can't exactly be Cole's servant forever."

"I wouldn't mind," Jay added, pulling himself onto the windowsill to sit. His eyes wandered to Echo who continued to battle the dust in the window. "Though there is one thing I'd like to do if I were human again."

"What's that?" Echo asked curiously since he was the only one close enough to hear the mumble. Jay just smiled.

"I'll tell you later."

"Would you miss your spirit form, Jay? You know like being able to fly and control lightning and stuff?" Tox asked.

"Probably," He laughed. "But it was fun while it lasted, and you can only fly and be covered in fuzz for so long before it gets boring."

"Would you miss flying, Pixal?" Neuro asked nervously. "I know you can in your pixie form."

"Well, I think of it as a new experience, like when you jump in a lake for the first time; at the time the experience is amazing and it's a wonderful and fond memory, but if you do it too often, you get bored of it so, I think I will miss flying, but it's not like I won't be able to take the experience with me." She giggled.

"That's a good point!" Nelson added.

"I don't think I'll miss my spirit form," Ronin laughed, leaning against the wall. "My human body is certainly not as short that's for sure, I wonder how Shade will handle not being trapped in the kitchens?"

"I doubt that being bound to the kitchen is much much fun," Harumi replied and turned to Neuro. "What about you?" She asked and he blinked at her response. "It seems we've neglected your opinions on the matter?"

"Well, I think I'd like to be human again."

"Why's that?" Tox asked curiously.

"I know I'm alive and not knowing when I'll die instead of having a clock ticking over my head," He said with a small leer. With that said, they all returned to their respective tasks. If they had any hope of becoming human again, this night needed to get off without a problem. As they all worked and gossiped amongst themselves, Echo was surprised when Jay suddenly dragged him away from his work so they could talk privately. He almost stumbled over his own foot in his attempts to keep up with the faster male.

Again he cursed his youthful form.

He hated that his body had to freeze in time just as he was finally beginning to mature physically.

"Jay! We're almost by the dining hall!" The boy cried as he dug the heels of his boots into the stone of the floor, kicking up the rug as he did so, forcing Jay to stop and turn around, but he didn't release his hold on Echo's hand.

"You said you wanted to tell me something? Well out with it? I don't want to be away from the ballroom for too long."

"We won't be that long," Jay smirked.

"Don't even think about it." Echo growled and blushed.

"Actually, I wasn't, I just want to ask you something very important." Jay laughed. Echo crossed his arms and straightened himself.

"Well?" He asked impatiently. Jay took a breath and stiffened his back.

"Will you do me the honors of being my date for the ball? Not as a friend or as a companion but as mine and no one else's?" He asked with a sweet smile. Echo swore he felt his footing slip like the ground was about to give way beneath him.

"P-P-Pardon?"

"I want us to go to the ball together, where everyone will know we're together if they don't already," Jay replied as his serious eyes betrayed his normally perky expression, but it told Echo he had never been more certain of anything before.

"You really want to take me?" He asked, his voice was shaking, but from what he wasn't sure.

"Of course, I do, I love you, and let's face it we can't hide this forever, and I honestly don't want to." Jay smiled. Before Jay could say anything else, a force like a wrecking ball plowed into his chest with such vigor it knocked the wind from his chest and sent him reeling to the floor.

"Do you even have to ask me?" Echo giggled as he hugged him so tightly, Jay swore he felt one of his ribs crack, but the younger boy didn't notice it in his enthusiasm. Tears of bliss welled in Echo's eyes. "Of course I will Jay!" He exclaimed as he jumped off Jay and grabbed his hand. Jay stumbled forward as his little lover now dragged him back through the castle, impossibly fast for the boy's short stature.

"Now I have to make sure the ballroom is spectacular! I'm going to make this a night no one forgets!" Echo sang the entire trip back to the ballroom, Jay stumbling and laughing behind him...

[hazelcmist]

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!” 

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented. 

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks. 

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

* 

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs. 

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.  

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.” 

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.” 

*

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down. 

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather. 

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse. 

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything. 

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[the-shiftshop]

Play Thing

There he was, as always, lying on the bed with nothing but his underwear to save some skin. It always seems like if he doesn’t have a roommate, he would go full on naked every time he sleep, but I won’t complain. I like it this way.

As you can see, I have a big crush on my roommate, Clark. I mean who wouldn’t dream of being plowed by this hunk? I’ve heard his friends tease him about him having a huge dick whenever they come visit and I can see that. He’s barely hard and that bulge in his underwear seems impressive, but that’s not the reason why I’m here standing at the door. I’m not just here to stare once more and worship his body with my eyes. No, I’m going to do more than just that.

I’ve visited Uncle Timothee’s Shift Shop once more, after 10 years. I may say the shop looked much different as it tries to go along the trend and the modernization of every products being released these days. One of those new products is this box uncle gave me for free.

It may look like a normal Rubik's cube that was forgotten to be colored, but it’s somewhat special. If I just put this on the floor, you’ll immediately see its magic work. Right after I placed it in front of my feet, it quickly turned liquid and began moving towards the bed. The black slime climbed up the bedding and right below Clark’s feet. It then, once more, moved itself until he was on top of Clark’s abs, waited for a few seconds as it gets familiar with the body below it first, then took a dive into Clark’s piss hole.

Clark’s eyes shot open and grunted as he felt something penetrate his cock. He screamed and arched his back in pain. He convulsed on the bed, throwing himself in every direction, then soon, the slime finally took over his body and he began to calm down.

“6-1-0-5-2-2” I recited. It was nothing. It was just a pass code I need to set so that whenever I want Clark to be mine again, I’ll just state these numbers.

After setting the cue, Clark stood up from the bed and faced me, showing no emotion at all. The slime now took over his body and he will only do whatever I ask him to.

“State your purpose.” I said.

Monotonously, Clark replied with a long ass dialogue, but the gist of it is that I can now make him do anything I want to, even change his body and turn him into anything I want, but we’re not up for that. I want Clark and I want him only in his own body. I can alter his mind so that whenever he’s back in control, he would act according to what I programmed him to. I might do that, but for now, let me just enjoy him.

“Smile for me”

Clark smiled in that cocky grin I jack off to.

“Answer me honestly, what do you think of me?”

In an instant Clark answered: “Clark Peterson thinks of Peter as—“

“Stop, stop, stop.” I commanded, “Talk like Clark but let’s make him sound as if he’s trying to seduce me.”

Clark’s eyes changed its shine. Now I can see fire burning in them. With that smile, he made me raise my eyebrows and touch my own hardening cock. “Well... I think of you as my bestest friend. Having me to live with you in order for me to live near my job. You cook for me... and you take care of me... and oh, how would I ever return a favor?”

I swallowed hard. I moved closer to him with heavy steps. Everything felt too real to be true but I’ve seen tons of magic from Uncle Timothee, this is not just some act pulled of by Clark, heck he even can’t act this good. I then touched his pecs and squeezed them hard as he stare at me with those seductive eyes.

“How does this make you feel?” I asked

“Nervous.” He replied.

I smiled at him, and then I finally pushed myself to kiss him on the lips. Though he won’t open his lips for me, I tried my best to put my tongue in his mouth. I kissed harder and even placed my hand behind his head. I stopped and looked at him. He was still on it with his seductive eyes, so I asked once more:

“How does that make you feel?”

“I only see you as my best friend and it felt weird when you kiss me. I might want to ignore you.”

I frowned at his reply, but what he said will never change my mind. I’m in control and he will do whatever I want. “If that’s so, replace that nervousness with arousal, building up as I kiss you and touch you everywhere.”

With that. I continued to kiss him. Second by second he began to heat up. Moaning and groaning as my tongue intertwined with his. My right hand still on his nape while my left hand resorted to touching his back, down to his ass, although he still did nothing else but stand there moaning because I didn’t ask him to touch or kiss me back. I broke the kiss and began worshiping every part of his torso. From his neck, down to his abs. I licked the sweat dripping down his chest until I reached his crotch. I pulled on his underwear and released the python hiding underneath. What his friends said was true. He really do have a huge cock, probably 10 inches hard right now. I licked my lips then dove into his package.

The room was filled with his groans. He couldn’t move, even an inch. Only his mouth and facial muscles were moving to express his arousal. As for me, I just enjoyed my most awaited prize. Bobbing my head up and down, with my hands roaming around his hairy legs. Soon I could feel his balls twitching but not a single drop of cum will come out. I stood up to meet his eyes once again. I groped his cock with my right hand and stared at him as he moaned louder.

“You’re free to move. Activate Clark’s persona.”

Right after I said that, the lust in Clark’s eye changed as he became nervous seeing me holding his shaft. His hands tried to push my hand off but I’m holding on it tight.

“Peter... This doesn’t feel-” I groped harder and he moaned louder in response, stopping him mid sentence.

“What do you mean? You love me fondling with your crotch.”

He stopped resisting me and instead just fell back down sitting on his bed. I moved my hand up and down his shaft. As I do so, I thought of more possibilities I can do with my toy inside Clark. I could make him beg for me to keep on jerking him off. I could make him thirsty for my cum. I could make him think of me as someone else and act according to that. I just smiled at him as he stared at me. His arms are brought back to hold his weight.

“Strip my shorts off.” I commanded and he immediately followed. My own cock flopped out my underwear, pointing at Clark’s chest. I took my shorts off leg after leg. When we’re both finally naked, I let go of Clark’s cock and put one of my leg above the bed, aiming his cock to my ass, readying my next command. My heart’s pounding fast as I await for my dreams to come true, being fucked by my hunky roommate.

“Fuck me like how you dominate your girl.”

He pulled me on my hips and brought me to lying on my back. He was on top of me pecking my skin like how I was stimulating him earlier. He moved up to kiss me passionately with his left hand on my nape. His right hand pinched my nipple and I moaned loud. He brought himself back down.

“I just wanna fuck you so bad.” He whispered in my ear.

“Then take me. I’m yours.”

With that, he finally placed my legs above his shoulder. He stroked his own cock first before stimulating my ass by rubbing his tip on it a couple of times. Finally, he pushed in. I groaned in pain. Slowly he pulled and pushed back in. We’re both moaning, matching every movement he does. Few seconds later, his pace went faster. Every hump was taking me to heaven. I can feel his cock grind against my ass wall. All the while, he was talking dirty in between his moans, calling me his bitch and other things I didn’t expect him to call me. His deep voice vibrating through my ears, adding more arousal to my body. He pulled me up like a rag doll, still with his cock inside my asshole. He sat on the edge of the bed with my sitting on top of him. My legs migrated to his back. He held me on my sides and he put much effort on moving me up and down like a fleshlight. I tried to help my pushing myself with my legs. A few minutes later, we was now fucking me doggy style. He made a few bites on my neck and back. This didn’t last long as we returned back to our original position.

Finally, I can sense that he’s near his climax. He’s fucking me more aggressively, and his grunts are getting heavier.

“I’m gonna...”

“Pull it out. On my chest.”

He pulled his cock out my ass and brought my hands down to jerk himself off until he finally released a huge load onto my torso. Some even went to my face. After this, he kissed me once more, taking a few cum into our mouths as we do so. He then proceeded in cleaning himself off with a tissue, leaving me soaked in his own cum.

I’m spent. I was just fucked by my roommate who had been my crush for a long time. It’s the best thing that had happened to me, and I guess there will be more to this. As I lay on the bed, more possibilities came into my head. I could do anything to him now, but I think this is all for now. Let’s leave the other exciting parts for the future. Right now, I need to make him clean this cum off with his mouth before I return him to sleep and leave everything that happened as a dream for Clark.

I might return to Uncle and thank him for the wonderful sex toy.