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thegeneralguy · 4 years

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The Champion of Olympus - Hera´s Hatred

Hello everyone! I wanted to take a moment to thank all the amazing support and positive feedback the stories have gotten. I’m very glad this community is so welcoming, and I hope you keep enjoying my creations. Credits to @amalianetwork for the picture and correction.

The thunder palace had been in complete chaos since Zeus announced his plan to stop Typhon and save Olympus. Winged servants flew swiftly back and forth across the residence, organizing the more organizational aspects of such an event like the upcoming ritual. Nervous chatter reigned across the halls, uncertain of what was about to come. It was usually the lesser creatures of the heavens who suffered the most casualties during the original monster´s assaults to Mount Olympus. The celestial Sentinels stood silently guarding the palace´s many different rooms. Their muscular solid gold bodies reflected the shining sunlight entering through the building´s many skylights. They were fierce pieces of weaponry when activated with heavenly power, but until then they represented little more than beautiful statues adorning the already opulent palace interior.

The queen of the heavens watched the palace´s eastern garden with apathy from her balcony on the uppermost level of the residence. Long golden hair was flowing magically around her back, giving the impression of being permanently swinging under a non-existent wind. Her slender frame was covered by a luxurious white robe that shone like the sun itself, with beautiful peacock feathers adorning the neck and sleeves from the garment. She stood impassively watching her servants move in a panic once again due to the capricious whims of her husband. Although she was the queen of the heavens, Zeus outranked her in the divine hierarchy. And that drove Hera mad with anger.

Not to mention her husband´s many romantic escapades, each one of them an extra nail on the coffin of her compassionate heart. After a life full of intrigues and plotting revenge, the goddess of marriage was left ironically with an unhappy marriage, together with eons worth of hateful feelings against her husband. She tried everything to stop him, from harassing his offspring to tear other gods down to shreds out of pure jealousy. But nothing could change the king of the gods, who felt his birthright was taking whatever he pleased, especially sexual satisfaction. His rage was left permanently marked on her perfect body, leaving the scars of her ankles as an imperfect reminder of what Zeus was truly capable of. In the end, Hera limited herself to watch somberly each one of her husbands' movements, waiting for a moment to strike. A knock on the door resonated in the room and Hera turned around to receive her expected guest.

"Come in."

She said with a melodious, but a somewhat cold voice. Like a beautiful snowflake falling on warm skin. The strong celestial Sentinels then opened the door, and Hermes entered the room. He bowed reluctantly to the goddess; his sense of duty much stronger than his utter repulse for the beautiful monster.

"The package you requested, my queen."

He said presenting Hera with a little crystal bottle with shining water inside. The queen got close and grabbed the bottle in her delicate hands. Hermes stood up once again and looked at the goddess. Her beauty was unheard of, making everything else seem mundane and worthless. A curvaceous and elegant silhouette leads to an aesthetically perfect face, her beautiful features harmonizing with each other to the point of being unsettling. Her irises were also an iridescent gold, standing out like beacons from her emotionless expression. But the god of travel could see something dark lurking beneath the otherwise bright eyes. The true form of Hera´s sinister demeanor printing itself as a red halo emanating from her pupils, fading into the shining gold. She was surrounded by a permanent bright halo, completely solidifying her status as heavenly royalty and a warning sign of the unmeasurable power the goddess possessed.

"Thank you, Hermes, you may now leave the premises. I'm sure the king has other tasks for you to complete."

Said Hera with a glimmer of disdain in her voice. The fast god of travel was indeed always busy. As the head of trade on all realms, he was constantly flying back and forth from every corner of the universe. The queen of the heavens always saw someone complicit to her husband´s deeds in him, because Hermes knew everything and everyone of interest for Olympus.

Hermes analyzed the goddess´ unusual rushing of their encounter, which normally ended with Hera insisting on him telling her Zeus´s antics to the point of threatening with violence. But this time, Hera seemed impatient, quickly dismissing him without even trying to squeeze some information out of him. He quickly glanced at the ornamental bottle in the queen's hands.

"If I may ask, my Lady, why is it that you needed water from the river Styx? It is certainly not fitting for a queen to be asking for such mundane favors."

"That's none of your concern, godling. Now please leave the premises, or I´ll have my guards escort you out."

The gigantic automatons opened the door and looked inside expectantly with their solid gold eyes. Hermes sighed and quickly took flight, passing both guards faster than lightning and heading to the outside court. He might be a god, but the celestial Sentinels were heavenly weapons designed to give even deities a hard time, and he had better things to do than being dismembered by the queen´s guardians like some of his half-siblings.

Hera was then left alone in her chambers again. Her unfazed calm expression was briefly interrupted by a sinister smile. Hermes was a nosy deity and he certainly was going to keep investigating, but at least she had bought some time to start executing her plan. It was true that with a simple command she could go to the riverbank in the underworld and get as much water as she wanted, but her plot required absolutely no suspicion from anybody. The god of travel could be curious, but his honor for his duty was stronger than his petty need for gossip, so she was sure he would not talk a word to anyone else about the mysterious gift he brought for the queen. Many creatures in his brother´s hellish realm could sense her overwhelming presence with ease, so this was considered the safest way to acquire what she was looking for.

She then approached a big chest next to the bed, and with a movement in her hand released a golden wave of energy that swiftly seeped into the lock. She heard a complex mechanism on the inside clicking, and then the chest opened. The queen of heaven had many secrets. Some were very easy to hide like her curses against lesser beings from her husband´s bloodline and others were a bit harder due to their intense radiation of divine energy. The true golden fleece for example, along with some golden apples from the Hesperides and Ariadne´s golden thread. Relics she had quickly collected from the terrestrial plane for safekeeping mostly. But on the bottom of the trove laid what she was truly looking for.

Hera pulled out an ornate mirror from the chest and took it to a big marble altar in the far corner of the room. The queen of heaven´s magical ability was rivaled only by a few other deities, and she enjoyed performing all kinds of rituals and curses to execute her will everywhere she needed to. She didn't feel the necessity of dirtying her energy by traveling down to the realm of mortals, far preferring a more indirect approach. The mirror in her hand was one of the strongest divination tools ever created, crafted as a gift from her son Hephaestus from ores coming from the Delphi temple itself. Its ability to watch over the currents of time was only inferior to Apollo himself and the Delphi oracle’s vision. The relic had been the inspiration for epic tales down on the Earth, as Hera allowed it from time to time to fall into the hands of mortals only to plant the seeds of conflict for the goddess´s enjoyment.

She put the mirror in the middle of the altar and took out the tiny water bottle. She then sprinkled a few drops of the Styx´s water on the surface of the mirror, and chanted the required incantation, releasing powerful divine energy from her body into the artifact. The mirror´s surface then became liquid, absorbing the river's water and flowing outside the ornate frame. Hera walked back and watched as a potent stream of liquid mirror flowed down the altar, forming a large puddle in front of her. A strong wave of energy pulsed out of the liquid. Hera raised her hands and finished the incantation, and from the puddle raised an identical copy of the goddess. The only difference was that her light halo was missing, along with her golden eyes, which were a reflective polished silver. Like a mirror.

"Oh, oracle of truth, knower of the unseen and progenitor of the universe´s secrets. Hear my command and show me my destiny."

The doppelganger smiled, as it lifted its robe to show a vast firmament full of stars. A deep vibration came out of the black veil. The marble columns of the queen's chamber vibrated, as a black fog started seeping out of the creature´s robe. An ominous voice came out of the veil, answering the Goddess´s call.

"What is it that you seek, Hera. Daughter of Rhea. Heiress of the heavens."

The fake queen stared impassively at Hera with her mirror eyes fixated on her, the expression vacant like a statue´s. The mirror´s creature was only a conduit for the true knower of all, the origin of the universe. It was unusual for an Olympic deity to contact the primordial progenitor. The magic required was too ancient for it to be remembered, even by the gods. But Hera was an erudite, her thirst for revenge driving her to uncover the darkest secrets of existence.

"Tell me, why is my husband trying to raise a mortal to divinity? What is the truth behind Tartarus´s veil being broken?"

"The balance in Tartarus remains the same. The inescapable abyss has not been disturbed in eons, but I can sense a will to breed discord in the world. Be careful, queen of the heavens. The king acts mostly on a whim, but such a decision is rarely unplanned."

Hera pondered on the answer of the oracle for a moment. Zeus was impulsive and arrogant, but he was not an idiot. He knew the implications of the ancient ritual, and the fact he was so keen on getting all gods involved so the ascension would be guaranteed and a new deity on earth could be born meant only one thing.

"It seems you already know the answer, my child. Look within yourself and act fast. Your time is running out."

The doppelganger then closed its robe and was consumed by the mirrored pool on its feet, leaving Hera alone to meditate on her next move. The words of the oracle resonated in her mind. She could beat her husband in his own game, winning a powerful ally in the process that could help her once and for all to enact her revenge on the king of the gods. Most importantly, she could not let Zeus acquire any more power. The rivalry between her three male siblings was the cause of many disasters in the past, and she couldn´t let the celestial realm suffer due to the quarrel between the gods.

Hera then pulled out the golden sharp head of an arrow from her robes. It was the artifact the bastard Heracles had used to try and harm her with. She held her palm on top of the mirror pool and slid it open with the weapon. Bright golden drops of ichor fell to the molten crystal, and it started glowing as bright as a star. The queen was going to find a knight worthy of Olympus, and she was going to use him as a conduit to spill out her hatred against her husband. Flying in the distance, Hermes witnessed the queen´s spell and heard what Chaos said. Could it be that his father was deceiving everyone? Or was this another of the goddess of heaven´s many antics to move against Zeus?

Dr. Richie Couccou was not having a good day. He woke up too late, he dropped his coffee on his lap on his way to work and was faced immediately with the plethora of problems his patients bombarded him with. Being a psychologist was the dream of his life, wishing to help people find their way through life with the least amount of suffering possible. His specialty was marriage counseling, so he wasn't unfamiliar with the burden marital life could bring. Adulterers, narcissists, abusers, addicts, pathological jealousy, Dr. Couccou had seen it all. When he imagined his life as a young professional freshly out of university, he imagined himself mapping the human psyche and developing exciting new theories that would laurel him with the recognition of his most prestigious peers, only to discover that the academic pathway in his profession leads mostly to a dead-end in careers. His lack of initiative and his unwillingness to take risks pushed him more and more to financial security instead of spiritual fulfillment.

In the end, he specialized in marriage counseling, which was where the money was, in an affluent neighborhood in the outskirts of San Francisco. Couples could put on a very convincing façade of stability, but deep inside the relationships grew rotten with remorse and frustration. The young doctor still conserved an altruistic nature, which when combined with his innocent idealism produced a very professional therapist who cared for his patients and tried his best in finding the best outcome for them. Besides, he couldn't complain about his own life. Living close to a more liberal city allowed him and his husband to live as freely as they pleased, together with a beautiful house and an expensive sedan to complete Richie´s suburbia fantasy.

The young couple had married just a couple of years ago when Richie finished his professional formation. The 25-year old men were madly in love with each other and decided to take the next step and move in together. Mario, his husband, was originally from Honduras and had come to the U.S. to work as a model and an aspiring actor. They met in a club during one of Richie´s very few nightly adventures, and they both hit it off immediately. Mario was everything Richie had hoped for in a man: attentive, charismatic, charming, and very attractive. His job as a model kept him in top shape constantly, in contrast to the young therapist whose body was never awe-inspiring, to begin with, and had only withered more and more due to a poor diet and a sedentary lifestyle. At first, he wondered why Mario was with him, but his new lover´s romantic attention just worked their way into his young heart.

Now just a few weeks shy of reaching the age of 30, Dr. Couccou was settled in a marriage that kept him happy, and had the financial security to live a comfortable life. All those thoughts crossed his mind every time he heard another tragic story about a failed relationship, keeping him sane for the most part and away from the abyss of depression, to which he was prone. Session after session made the man grow more impatient, nervously waiting for the day to end so he could drive home and celebrate his anniversary.

He finished his work schedule for the day on time as usual, and after the routine paperwork, he hopped in his car and drove back home. He remembered to pick up some flowers and a nice bottle of wine to celebrate the special occasion together with his husband. He arrived at the two-story family home just a few minutes after seven, like a clockwork. The sun was already setting down painting the sky in a romantic shade of red. He enthusiastically opened the door with a bouquet of lotus flowers on one hand, and an expensive bottle of wine under his elbow, only to be greeted by dead silence inside his home. The lights in the whole house were off, along with the kitchen stove and the set of candles he picked up at Bath and Bodyworks to illuminate this special evening. Richie hung his keys and left his presents on the dining table, noticing the open envelope of Mario´s accepted citizenship application. Another reason to celebrate, he thought.

"Honey?"

He asked, looking nervously for his husband.

"No. Not again."

He held back the tears in his eyes, as he hesitantly headed towards the garage. Once he opened the door his suspicions were confirmed. His husband´s Range Rover van was gone, so that meant he wasn't in the house. Richie then went back to the formal living room and left himself to be swallowed by the lavish leather couch.

"Maybe he went to get groceries. Maybe he ran late in the gym. Maybe he had an accident and ended up in the hospital."

Anxiety overwhelmed the therapist, the thoughts praying on his fears like hungry vultures. Richie was a prodigiously intelligent man, his only flaw being his foolish naivety. This same couch was a witness when the same scene happened a year ago. The hunky Latino lover he had for a husband wasn't very thoughtful when it came to dates, so this hadn't been the first time he forgot about their anniversary. Last year´s night ended with Richie begging his husband for forgiveness, his only mistake being that he started an argument about Mario´s recent lack of attention. The Latino heartthrob had a way of twisting every problem to his favor, constantly gaslighting Richie into believing he was being too needy and demanding, or that he spent too much time at work. Either way, it always ended with Richie bending to the whims of his husband. Last year Mario had made the generous offer of cooking a very nice dinner for both of them next time they celebrated their anniversary. But judging by the empty dark kitchen, he had forgotten once again.

Richie let out a loud sigh, as he went upstairs heading directly to their shared bedroom. Their bed was not made, and there was an explosion of bright clothes hanging off of every corner of the room, hinting that Mario had gone off partying again, as usual, trying out every outfit in the closet before heading out. The doctor's husband loved the nightlife, leaving Richie staying at home so he could go partying and enjoy the benefits the big city offered. The tired man headed then into the bathroom for his routine before bed. He took off the ill-fitting suit he was wearing, along with his thick-rimmed glasses, and splashed some water on his face. When he put them back on, he was greeted by a vision he was constantly trying to avoid.

He looked with sadness at his body. His naturally thin frame was filling up with some fat, forming a small belly and starting to accumulate on his chest. His love handles were being pushed out by the elastic band on his boxer shorts. His arms and legs were just as slim as they were when he finished puberty, unable to gain the coveted muscle mass every gay man was chasing. His husband signed him up for his gym as an idea to spend more time together, only to be completely ignored once the hunky social butterfly found his usual friends and left him on his own. Prey to his insecurities, he stopped going altogether, much to his husband´s annoyance who wanted him to get in shape. His blond hair was dry and messy, styled in a boring way. He barely had any beard growth on his round, to begin with, unable to hide the soft jawline and little chin, and the one he had was very patchy and light blond, so it was practically invisible. Otherwise, he wasn't a very hairy man, just sporting unkempt armpit and pubic hair, along with some sparse sprinkling around his nipples. His blue eyes were the only feature he kind of liked on himself, being an icy blue that was magnified by the thick glasses he wore all the time.

Richie put on his pomegranate printed pajamas and got into bed. The emotional shock from earlier had exhausted him, along with the stress of his intense work schedule. He then turned to the side to take off his glasses and turn off his bed lamp when he caught a glimpse of the beautifully framed photo of his husband and him on their wedding day. Richie was a bit taller standing at 6 feet and was wearing a black tuxedo that hung off his even thinner body. His soft features shining with happiness. Next to him stood the hunk he married, his beautiful brown skin contrasting with the white tuxedo Richie had bought him for that day. The elegant garment was taut over the Latino man´s body, showing off the volume of his arms and the prominence of his chest. It was tapered to his thin waist, which made him look like he jumped out of a GQ magazine cover. His raven black hair was beautifully styled back, and he was beaming a white smile at the camera. The handsome man was truly a sight to behold. Richie didn't like looking at his reflection because it was a painful reminder of the abyssal difference between them. No wonder Mario never wanted to get in bed with him anymore. He took off his glasses and closed his eyes, unable to fall asleep with a million worries circling on his head.

"Good morning amor"

Richie opened his eyes to the deep melodious voice of his husband. Mario was standing next to his bed holding up a box of chocolates shaped like a heart. Richie put on his glasses and managed to squeeze out a faint smile. He then extended his arm and accepted the gesture without saying a word. His husband remained unfazed, beaming a bright smile, and acting with his usual confidence.

"You didn't wait for me last night. The boys from the gym invited me to a birthday party, so I couldn't say no. Still, I brought some pizza for us to eat late only to find you sleeping!"

The Latino hunk then pouted like a little kid making emphasis on the last word.

"I know better than to wait for you to get home Mario. Besides, you arrived at 3 in the morning, high as a kite. I really thought you remembered this time."

Mario could feel his husband´s sadness in his voice, but he didn't let his facial expression change.

"I still brought you dinner as I promised. I even got your favorite pizza. Come on, let's go have breakfast. I have a photo shooting later and I cannot be late again."

Richie sighed and got out of bed to get ready. He then joined his husband in the kitchen who was sporting one of his usual skintight tank tops that made the defined muscles in his body pop out more.

"The pizza is in the fridge."

He said taking another spoonful of oatmeal without even raising his gaze from his phone. Richie then took out a cold slice and sat down on the opposite end of the kitchen island. He stared at the pepperoni pizza on his plate, unable to take a bite. He took a deep breath and looked at his husband.

"Mario, we need to talk."

The hunk barely raised his eyes from the screen, giving Richie an impatient glare. Even when he was annoyed, he remained strikingly handsome, with sharp masculine features decorated with a dense black beard.

"Does it really have to be now? I´m already running late amor. We can talk when I get back from work."

"No, it has to be now."

Said Richie fighting the breaking of his voice. He had a lot of feelings, but he had to remind himself of his practices at work and how to emote his thoughts without overwhelming his partner.

"I think you´re not paying a lot of attention to me, and that makes me feel sad. Remember when we first moved into this house and had that candlelit dinner on the floor? I miss that Mario. The romantic detail Mario."

Mario´s gaze remained fixed on his husband, meditating the best way to squirm out of the problem. It wasn´t the first time he messed up an important date, but he could always count on his husband´s weak character to do the trick for him.

"I´m sorry amor. I´ve been stressed with work now that my career is finally taking off. My diet is also killing me, making me tired and irritable. You should have a bit of consideration with me. Besides, I brought you your favorite pizza. I remembered. It's just that you know how important these parties are for networking amor. And you´re always at work. You never come to the gym with me. The least you could do is being more comprehensive."

He managed to finish his monologue with a little tear under his eye. Richie fell victim once again to his husband´s bulldozing charm. His bitterness turned quickly into concern for his hard-working husband, who just wanted to make his dream come true. He stood up and headed towards the hunk´s back, embracing his muscular body tightly.

"I´m sorry love, I had no idea you had that much on your head. I´ll take you to dinner tonight, to that fancy place you like."

Mario smiled triumphantly, knowing there was no sin his pushover of a husband was not going to forgive.

"If you really want us to go then fine."

Richie jumped excitedly at the prospect of having a romantic evening with his man again. The sorrow in his heart turned again to the blind happiness that had imprisoned him for a long time. He took his briefcase and kissed his husband´s cheek, who winced a bit at the gesture.

"I'll pick you up at eight."

He said as he headed outside for his car. Mario remained sitting down eating his oatmeal impassively, completely dismissing his husband´s nice gesture.

Richie could barely keep his excitement in check during his day at work. He responded with automatic answers during his sessions, his mind wandering through all the possible outcomes of the night. Mario did care for him, and that made him very happy. It was ironic the best marriage counselor in town couldn't see the shipwreck his marriage was. The therapist remained oblivious to all the red flags life was throwing at him constantly, in the hopes that everything was a product of his overanalyzing mind. He never had anyone like Mario before, his few past relationships being sacrificed to achieve his dream profession. That is why he was so self-conscious about spending so much time at work and not paying enough attention to his handsome man. But this night was going to be different. He was going to take his husband for a nightly stroll on the boardwalk after dinner, and then home for hopefully more intimate marital activities.

His last patient for the day canceled, leaving Richie with two hours to go back home and prepare for the evening. He even made a stop at the mall to buy a luxurious watch for his husband, to surprise him along with his regular anniversary gift. He bought a lotus flower bouquet again and rushed to his home to get ready. This time his husband´s car was parked on the driveway, so he was sure Mario was inside. He stealthily went inside, only to be greeted by an empty ground floor again.

"He must be upstairs."

Said Richie for himself while he quickly hid the expensive presents and quietly headed up the stairs. But as soon as he arrived on the top floor, his blood froze inside his veins as he heard giggles and whispers coming from the furthermost door. He felt vertigo as the hallway appeared to extend, separating him from his bedroom. He approached the ominous door quietly, his heart sinking further down with every step.

"I swear I heard something."

Said an unknown deep voice inside the room. Richie stood in front of the door, unable to grab the knob and see with his own eyes what had been written on the wall for a very long time.

"I told you, he never comes home earlier. Stop being such a pussy. I´ll go downstairs and check so you don't get distracted anymore."

Richie saw the doorknob turn in slow motion, only for the door to open aggressively. The doctor stared then at the half-naked image of his husband, his brown skin shining with sweat. The hunk couldn't keep his cool this time, widely opening his eyes, completely speechless. Both stood in front of each other for an instant in complete silence. Richie diverted his gaze to look inside his bedroom. He saw another muscular man behind Mario, recognizing him as one of the personal trainers working in his husband´s favorite gym. Mario was the first one to break the silence, managing to squeeze out a few nervous words.

"Richie, amor. I know it looks bad, but I can explain."

The doctor didn't wait for another second, storming down the hallway and out the front door. He started his car and sped away from his once safe haven. He couldn't spend another second in there, feeling breathless and heavy. He just needed to get away as soon as possible.

A storm of feelings quickly mined what was left of his rationality. He suddenly recognized all the signs. The late-night escapades, the forgotten details and the general apathy his husband emanated suddenly became beacons for Richie, illuminating the ruins of his falsely happy marriage. His insecurities bubbled up, making him hate himself for even considering that what happened was his fault. He had this talk almost daily with his patients. But he still couldn't let go of the feeling that he simply wasn't enough for Mario.

He stopped at a red light and looked to the back of his car. His untouched gym bag laid on the backseat, almost taunting him for his lack of discipline. If he made an effort to keep up with his gym obsessed husband, none of this would've happened. In the middle of his crisis, he made the absurd choice of heading to the gym. He thought that maybe if Mario saw him there, he would think Richie was trying to be attractive for him, and he wouldn't have the necessity of looking for pleasure somewhere else.

It was already dark when he made it to the 24-hour fitness center. The upscale gym had everything necessary to train a professional bodybuilder, and then some more. The sleek interior with shiny chrome finishing sported mirrored walls on all sides of the establishment, including the reception. The doctor couldn't escape the haunting image of his reflection, no matter where he tried to hide. He nodded with courtesy towards the young clerk checking the patrons in and headed to the dressing rooms. He tried his best in avoiding eye contact with anyone, so no one could see his red eyes or swollen face product of the intense night he was having, and quickly changed into his simple workout clothes, grabbed his headphones, and headed to the training floor.

He instantly regretted his decision in coming to the gym, as he stood there in the middle of the training ground with no idea where to start. Mario had never actually explained to him how to work out with weights, and he never dared to ask any of the trainers that roamed around the room. An infinity of machines of all types and sizes decorated his surroundings, along with four giant mirrored walls that gave the impression of an infinitely big area. Big men paraded around like peacocks, preening their bodies and flexing in front of their reflection. Groups of girls and teenagers chatted next to the machines and the big water fountain where people could refill their drinks. It was an entirely foreign ecosystem for the nervous doctor, who carefully made his way to the free weights area.

He looked at all the big men pumping iron all around him, their sweaty bodies practically bursting out of their tight clothes. He then turned around to face the inevitable. The mirrored wall reflected all of the doctor's miserable existence once again. His graphic tee depicting a cartoonish cow was snug against his midsection, and his black shorts made his legs look even thinner. He pondered in his sadness for a while, reflecting on how little he was in comparison to his husband. No wonder he looked for someone else.

But something happened once Richie turned around to grab the lightest pair of dumbells around. He thought for an instant he saw his reflection blink just before diverting his gaze. He put the dumbells down once again to examine his reflection closely. A wicked smile formed on the doctor´s soft face, completely contrasting with his innocent eyes. Richie felt a chill go down his spine, as he immediately recoiled from the mirror, only for a hand to come out and pull him towards it. The hard mirror of the surface rippled like water, and the doctor soon found himself in an identical mirrored room. All equipment, towels, and water bottles were there, except for the patrons. The new training area was empty, except for Richie, who instantly went back to the original mirror. He could still see the people walking outside, but when he tried to knock on the glass and ask for help, no one realized he was there. His increasingly panicked screams echoed through the big empty hall.

"Why aren't you a nervous one?"

He heard a voice talk to him from his back. It sounded like his own, only with a rasp metallic cling to it. He turned around and went white in fear as he saw an exact copy of himself staring back. They were even dressed the same. The only difference was the most disturbing part of that living nightmare: the eyes. The doppelganger sported a pair of mirror eyes, which gave it a supernatural look.

"Wha-at are yo-ou?"

Stuttered the terrified doctor slowly walking backward until his back hit the glass. The reflection smiled broadly; its sinister mirror eyes fixed entirely on Richie.

"I´m you, or better said I´m the worst part of you. The one that haunts you every time you look at yourself. The one who blinded you from the truth. The one that represents the shackles of your pathetic existence."

Richie fought the tears in his eyes and was able to muster a glimpse of courage, answering with all the aggressiveness he could muster.

"That's not true! You don't exist, you´re just a product of my own trauma. I must have hit my head with a weight or something."

The reflection cackled loudly, its cold voice breaking like a tuning radio.

"This is exactly why he cheated us now. Your passiveness, your naivety, and of course your appearance drove him away. But look at me, look at us. Who thinks someone like that would want to be with someone like us? Damn, a Ph.D. in psychology and you´re still as stupid as an infant. You must feel pretty miserable. We wasted so many years of study for nothing."

Richie looked down, the tears finally rolling from his eyes. The monster was right, he was stupid. The signs were there, signs he would´ve recognized on anyone else's relationship. But things got different once it was personal. What was clear turned opaque, as his naiveness drove him to excuse everything he saw and felt.

"Don´t cry! You don´t deserve pity. It is your fault we're miserable, but this situation can change."

The doctor looked at his doppelganger once again. A bright halo of light seemed to flicker around him, making the monstrous eyes glimmer with a golden hue from time to time.

"I was sent here as a catalyst for change. There is someone interested in our innate potential. But first, you must shatter. We can finally put a stop to your insecurities, and be free."

A bright flash of light beamed out of the doppelganger´s eyes, completely blinding Richie for an instant. The air felt heavy, humming with energy and the temperature started rising. The light was gone as soon as it came, leaving the doctor unable to see for a couple of seconds. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes slightly annoyed at the inconvenience, blinking frantically until the blur around him reformed into the weight room. The creature was not in front of him anymore. He looked around, only to find it standing next to one of the bench presses. He approached his double, his face contorted with an exasperated look.

"What the hell was that? I almost went blind! And what do you mean by shattering?"

He asked angrily, his former nervous demeanor replaced by new assertive behavior. He felt animosity towards the creature for trapping him inside this trick room. A new aggressive defense mechanism triggered by hearing the doppelganger´s plan for him.

"Nothing, forget it. As you are now, we´re completely useless for our lady."

Richie clenched his fists tightly, as the light annoyance started turning into sheer anger, an emotion completely unexplored for him. The doctor was usually very calm and passive, rather bending to other people's will to avoid confrontation than approaching issues with an aggressive attitude. But something about the creature in front of him made his blood boil, but he couldn't put his finger on the reason yet.

"What lady!? Besides, I´m not useless"

His angry remarks echoed through the empty halls of the mirror world. The doppelganger smiled knowing the doctor was being lured right where it wanted him to.

"You are useless, there is no question about it. Let´s do a little bet. Prove you're not a failure, and I´ll let you out of here."

The doctor squinted his eyes, giving the creature a suspicious look. But it might be his only chance of getting out of there, so he reluctantly decided to go along with it.

"Fine, what do you want?"

His double then pointed at the bench press; its eerie mirror eyes fixated on Richie´s slightly confused expression.

"Show me we´re not weak. We came to the gym fleeing from the problems you were too weak to face on your own. That is what caused this whole problem. If you want my help you have to earn it."

Richie stood nervously next to the bench. He had never been able to train with weights before, so having his freedom be conditioned on such a test was terrifying, but he didn't see another way of escaping. The people outside were completely oblivious to what was happening inside the mirror, so the only chance of getting out was beating his double in its own game. He laid then on the machine, unsure about how to continue. The creature scowled at him, lifting the barbell and throwing it on his arms.

"You're such a worm. Pathetic."

Richie´s anger returned, fueling his strength. With some effort, he lowered the empty barbell to his chest, and pushed it back up with all his strength, putting it back in its place. He looked at his double expectantly, but the creature's face remained with the same expression of disgust.

"Is that all you got?"

The roof started filling up with thick golden vapor. It looked like ink being dropped in a glass of water. Small tendrils descended towards them, picking up two 45-pound plates and putting them on each side of the barbell. Richie opened his eyes incredulously. That amount of weight would certainly crush him, permanently ending the possibility of escaping. But judging by the doppelganger´s expectant gaze, he sighed and lowered himself back on the bench. His face went red with the effort from pushing the bar out of its base, holding it above his chest. A little droplet of sweat dripped down his forehead.

"What are you waiting for, pussy? Do it."

"I'm not a pussy…"

Grunted Richie as he once again lowered the bar with all his might. He then tried to push it back up, only for the barbell to remain static above his chest. The scared doctor started panicking, completely sure this was going to turn into his grave. But then, all the insults the reflection had thrown at him came back into his head, breeding a violent emotion that provided the energy he needed. With an angry grunt, he started lifting the bar slowly. He felt like his chest was on fire, each muscle fiber screaming in agony as the barbell completed its route and was left back in its base, only for the tendrils to load another six plates on it.

"You disgust me. Again."

Richie didn't even bother to discuss this time, as the violent emotions in his head slowly took control over him. He grabbed the bar with fury and pushed it over his chest with a roar. As the bar fell, the muscles in his chest expanded a bit to the sides, and when he pushed it back up, the pectorals rose a few inches. He then proceeded to repeat the movement, each rep adding mass to his chest like inflating cantaloupes. Once he was done, he put the bar back on its place with a heavy groan and got up from the bench. The evil reflection smiled as the doctor got out of his trance and realized what had just happened to him. He touched the now-massive muscles hanging from his chest, his white t-shirt strained to the maximum, deforming the cartoon on the front. His pectorals twitched with newfound power, his enlarged nipples rubbing against the fabric sticking out like thumbs.

"What happened to me?"

The doppelganger didn't say a word and simply moved towards the squat rack. Richie stood up, tumbling due to his center of gravity changing drastically, and followed the creature. The barbell was already loaded with two plates. The doctor stared at his reflection once again, only to find the same disgusted sneer.

"Do it again you pussy."

The feelings of anger kept bubbling out of Richie. He got under the bar, completely unsure of how to move without falling back. As soon as he got into position, he returned to his trance-like state, performing a squat with perfect form. The bones in his legs cracked and lengthened slowly, along with his feet, which grew gigantic to provide a better base for the exercise. He then proceeded to complete the set, each repetition slowly adding inches to his frame. The vertebrae in his back cracked and elongated, each joint growing stronger to support his now towering frame. When he finished, he was more than half a foot taller, his overstretched t-shirt now looking more like a sports bra containing his herculean chest, and his shorts riding up almost to his crotch. He then threw a sneer at his impassive reflection, which stood there only smiling.

"You're still weak. We didn't deserve someone like Mario."

"Shut up!"

Roared Richie. The golden tendrils then loaded the bar with enough weight to put it well above 300 pounds. The furious doctor then got under the bar and grasped it with both of his hands. He then pushed it up with all his might. The veins on his temples popped out, as his face went red like an apple again. The bar then slowly budged, unhanging itself and resting on the doctor´s slim shoulders. It was marvelous to behold those toothpicks he had for legs support such a monstrous amount of weight. Concentrating on the fiery rage in his stomach, Richie started going down. The muscle fibers in his legs were burning, unable to keep up with the amount of power being demanded from them. As a result, they started to quickly multiply, leaving the doctor with two slightly thicker legs once he finished the first repetition.

But the real change was just starting. He then started going down and up again, his legs working like heavy-duty pistons carrying a massive amount of weight. Each pump added muscles to his thighs, which grew bigger than most men´s waists. The deep divide of his quadriceps etching itself painfully into the muscles, making the skin covering them look paper-thin. His ass swelled so big it looked like it was defying gravity, swallowing the now tiny black shorts and providing the beastly strength he was needing. His calves grew bigger than football to stabilize Richie´s increasing mass. Even his feet grew muscular. During the last repetition, the strain was so much, he felt his legs were dipped in molten metal from the sheer output of energy. He felt his knees buckle, as he felt himself falling on his back. The now-massive cushion he had attached to his rear attenuated the fall.

The doppelganger then let out a crackling cruel laugh. The doctor came out of his trance again, unsure of how to move his much larger lower limbs. He was sweating profusely, the white t-shirt now completely translucent showing the deep divide between his humongous chest. Tears fell down his reddened cheeks, completely overwhelmed by the situation he was in.

"Please let me go. I don't want this. I beg you."

His double then stopped laughing and barked back at him in that metallic voice.

"Beg of me? We don't beg, we demand. You will keep us drowning in misery. Is that what you want?!"

The doctor's painful memory then entered his head once again. A lonely childhood, an unfulfilled dream, and heartbreaking betrayal. His eyes pulsed for an instant in a bright golden color. He managed to get up and sneered back at his reflection, hatred once again taking over him.

"No. I'll stop the misery."

"Then you know what you must do."

He then approached the bar, which was already loaded again by the mysterious force in the room putting it above 500 pounds. He positioned himself to do a deadlift, grasping the bar tightly with both hands and pulling with all his might. Sweat practically cascaded out of every pore and thick veins bulged and pulsated on his neck, and the straining muscles grew. His growl slowly went down a couple of octaves as his Adam's apple grew along with the rest. Two giant triangles grew on the back of his neck, connecting it to his shoulders and leaving the doctor with a pair of massive traps.

The muscles in his back rippled as new nerve connections were made recruiting more mass for the movement. Two thick poles grew along his spine, spreading outgrowth to his lats. The back of the man grew so much, it looked like the spread wingspan of an albatross, each hill and valley carving themselves like on marble. The small t-shirt didn't stand a chance as it fell in tatters to the ground, exposing the sweat coated skin of the man´s back.

As he pulled the bar above his knees, the muscle in his midsection started burning to stabilize the movement. The fat on his stomach melted away, replaced by a convex thick eight pack bulging with veins. His lower back developed strongly, forming an upwards arrow between the muscles.

Once he was able to stand straight, he quickly jerked down to push the bar from underneath. The burning sensation spread to his arms, as his hands grew around the bar grabbing it with a vice-like grip. The forearms formed thick muscular columns with more than enough strength to hold the lift, veins quickly traveling towards his upper arms like a complicated crossroads. The fibers on his biceps ripped and grew rapidly, quickly inflating the biceps to a formidable size. Iron triceps etched themselves to the hinder part of his arms, pumping and growing bigger the more the bar was lifted. Lastly, as he pushed the bar over his head, his shoulders raised and rounded out like big medicine balls, condemning Richie to a life unable to go straight through doors.

With a mighty roar, he put the bar in its place, panting exhaustedly. The man inside the squat rack was unrecognizable, having almost doubled his body mass in lean muscle. The only vestige of his old self remained his soft rounded face, along with his icy blue eyes, which squinted when the wave of pain woke him up from his trance. The doppelganger stared amused at the new Richie, its mirror eyes gleaming with a golden glow.

"Well, this is definitely what I had in mind. We're still not quite there though. You remain a pathetic wuss inside."

Richie looked at his practically naked body and was left speechless. He was completely terrified of what happened to him. This monster had completely ruined his life. He clenched his fists in anger, while he slowly walked towards the creature.

"Look at what you did to me. I'm a freak. I´ll never be able to get back to my life."

The creature looked at him mockingly, smiling cruelly at its creation. Richie´s anger only kept rising until everything else other than his double disappeared from his vision. He took out his glasses, crunching them with his fist. His new body bulged menacingly with new strength.

"Do we want to get back to that life? To be deceived and betrayed? No. We hate Mario, but we also hate ourselves."

Richie thought for a second about what the creature said. It was right in saying he hated Mario, and he hated himself for being weak, for not being enough. But now he was enough. He looked at his body and felt each muscle fiber vibrating with new power. He then looked at his double, which was a physical reminder of his past and the painful betrayal.

"No, I hate you. For being weak. For keeping me down."

The creature glared at the muscular titan towering over it, now inches away from its frail body towering over him. It produced one last cruel smile knowing its purpose had been fulfilled.

"Then you know what you must do. Pussy."

Richie raised his fist with a deafening roar and struck his old self-right in the face. The creature then exploded in a million mirror shards which remained suspended in the air and released the contents of its vessel. A glowing blob of ichor was left floating in the place of where the monster once stood. The doctor stared dumbfounded at the thing he had in front of him. The golden vapor floating on the ceiling then condensed into the liquid, and it started emitting a powerful light that mesmerized Richie. He then moved forward to touch the liquid.

As soon as his fingers made contact with it, the blob glued itself into the hands of the doctor, who then woke up again from the trance for the last time. He screamed in panic as the golden substance traveled up his massive arm, coating it in glimmering reflective gold. The rest of his body got quickly invaded by the liquid, leaving his face for last. His scream was then drowned once the substance entered his throat. He felt the scorching heat of the liquid melting away his mind. Memories of love and romance, from hope and peace, bled out of every pore, being sucked away by the golden coating. The heat then intensified the anger in the pit of his stomach and raised it to his mind, corrupting it. Feelings of hatred and arrogance melted into his brain, molding a new persona out of the doctor.

The liquid then started to melt away his features, making his head grow inside the golden suit. The bones in his jaw cracked and squared off, leaving a prominent glass-cutting jaw behind. His nose broke and rearranged, expanding to a more masculine form. His forehead grew larger, hooding his eyes and printing a permanent scowl on his face. Once the change was completed, the liquid started to seep into the pores in all of his body, stimulating the growth of thick dark body hair that slowly revealed itself the more the coat absorbed into the skin. His armpits and pubes grew thick hair, marinated with his newly acquired masculine essence. A thick treasure trail escalated to a dense covering of his pecs. The liquid on his face then condensed into his eyes, revealing a full bushy beard. His blond hair had grown long on top disappearing on the sides and darkened to a dark shade of brown. As the final drops of the liquid were absorbed into his eyes, he was left with a pair of solid gold eyes, the anger condensing as a red halo surrounding his pupils.

The new man then cracked his neck and flexed his body. He felt incredibly powerful, more than any mortal could ever be. He looked at the mirror and saw his rugged hyper-masculine face staring back at him. He looked very menacing. And he liked it. The titan relished in the satisfaction that gave him in being an intimidating wall of muscle. He had no desire of being nice to anybody because he could bulldoze his way over anything to get whatever he wanted. He was the biggest dick on the planet. Dr. Richie Coccou was reborn in the form of Richard "Dick" Coccou.

"Speaking of dicks."

Grumbled the new goliath as he grabbed his manhood over the makeshift thong he was still wearing. The gold liquid started coming out again of his palm, burning away the garment and coating the already enlarging member. The former small penis then inflated to a menacing size, just like his owner, until it reached the size of a small children´s arm. His balls grew proportionally, like two small pomegranates hanging from a branch. The titan grumbled with pleasure as he played with the large head.

"You´ll have plenty of time for that later, my child."

Dick then looked around attentively, like a predator hearing a small branch snap. The broken glass shards floating around him condensed into a body size mirror in front of him. Out of the deep infinite loop appeared a beautiful woman. Her shapely silhouette surrounded by a bright halo. And her glowing gold eyes cold as ice. Dick smiled, all kinds of lascivious thoughts crossing his mind.

"Do not get distracted by primal necessities my child. You have a mission to accomplish. I´m Hera, queen of the heavens and your ruler."

Dick´s mind was suddenly filled with awe and respect for his progenitor, having been born out of her own blood. He kneeled before her and bowed his head.

"What can I do for you, my queen?"

Hera smiled, very pleased with the results of her spell.

"I gifted you with divinity for one reason only my child: to kill my husband. You know the sorrow of a broken heart, and have a thirst for revenge of your own. You will get your chance, but afterward, your destiny will belong to me. Meet me on Mount Olympus in thirteen days. I will make sure you ascend."

With those last words, the mirror shattered, and Dick was left alone with his hatred. Hera´s work was impeccable, fully turning the intense loyal love of a mortal into her own personal thug. And Dick was the spitting image of a muscular thug. The image of his still husband came to his mind, along with an unquenchable thirst for revenge. He smiled and knew immediately what to do next.

The last patrons left the 24-hour gym at high hours of the night. Mario had been looking desperately for his husband all night without success. He looked around the places he thought he frequented most, like his office or his favorite pizza restaurant. But the meek therapist was nowhere to be found. The last way to look for it was the gym, although Mario was going more out of pure necessity than of real worry for his husband.

He got into the establishment and found it empty. It was unusual to find people after midnight, but not even the janitor was around. An eerie presence haunted the many mirror walls, making the usually cocky Latin hunk feel uneasy. He looked into the dressing room hoping he would find his husband there, but there was no one inside. He shrugged his worries off and thought he´ll find it back home once the tantrum was over. He had to be more careful though, or his citizenship process would be interrupted and he'd have to leave his life there. Richie was nice, but Mario was more into the life he provided other than the man himself.

He stepped out of the locker room and could immediately hear the cold clashing of iron from inside the weight room. Low grunts accompanied the metallic echoes, letting Mario know he wasn't alone in the gym after all. He went inside the room, only to find a behemoth of a man half-naked pumping a monstrous amount of weight on the bench press. A strong musky scent permeated the room, asserting the titan´s dominance over anything that stepped into his dominion. He finished his set and immediately fixed his gaze upon the stud.

"I knew you would come."

His golden eyes completely infatuated Mario, who felt an almost magnetic pull towards the man. He put a hand on his sweat covered giant chest, relishing in the feeling of having such a specimen so close to him. Dick smiled triumphantly, completely aware of the power he now possessed over simple mortals. He grabbed both shoulders of the smaller man with his massive mitts and aggressively pushed him down. Mario was completely enthralled by the intimidating piece of meat he had in front of him. He wanted desperately to please the bigger man, but he was unsure his anatomy would allow it. Dick didn't wait for Mario to prepare, taking his head with both hands and slamming it against his pelvis, impaling the choking stud with his massive endowment. Mario struggled to breathe, tears flowing down his cheeks as big Dick sodomized his face.

"You’re a lousy sucker kid. Let's see if you're a lousy fucker as well."

Said the titan as he lifted Mario like a feather and put him facing down the bench, spreading his legs. Mario already knew what was coming and was glad he was ready. He always found a good fuck or two in the gym at this hour, and this was not going to be an exception. Dick then slammed down the still closed cheeks, impaling his former lover. Instead of feeling the searing pain, he was awaiting due to the sheer size of the manhood, Mario felt incomparable bliss. Every nerve ending in his body was burning with pleasure, his face drooling due to the intense sensations he was feeling. The titan then pumped him full for a while, giving him the best sex, he ever had.

Once it was over, the behemoth took a humongous black shirt that was hanging on a nearby bench and put it on, heading towards the exit. Mario then felt terrible despair, as he ran to the man to not let him go, only to be sent flying away and crashing against a pile of weights. Dick gave him a menacing look, his golden eyes sparkling with anger.

"You will never be able to enjoy intimacy anymore or feel any kind of pleasure. Everything will remind you of tonight, and what can no longer be yours. I will let you live, but the future that awaits you will only be painful. Now, get out of my sight before I change my mind."

His newly acquired divine power gave Dick full power over mortals, including the ability to move the boundaries between pain and pleasure inside them. Mario watched with tears in his eyes as the giant walked forward into a mirrored wall next to the entrance, and was swallowed by it. He had no idea this hateful god was his once pure-hearted husband, corrupted by a jealous´ goddess hatred against the one who had been her greatest lover.

#musclegrowth #transformation #championofolympus

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goodnightallwhites · 4 years

Text

Mommy's Secret BlackingPacking

Women are shit. It was a term I heard in some way, shape, or form nearly every day now from the people I spent my time with. Well, not really like that. They were people online, people who I didn’t know, but people I could complain about. I had tons to complain about. I was romantically hopeless. I’ve never had a girlfriend, never even kissed a girl. They never seemed interested in me. Maybe I was too skinny, too thin-wristed, too round-faced, too wide-eyed. A short guy with a baby face. That’s what I complained about around half the time I was online. The other half I spent jacking my meager 3 inch pin penis until I shot my load into the trash or the toilet. I was getting into increasingly demeaning fetishes. Mostly with dominant women and pathetic little cuckold men. I was afraid that I’d have to be in a relationship like that. I loved jacking to it, but after I came? I was always disgusted with myself.

I hated girls more though. I hated all of them. They always fucked and dated the worst guys, and made fun of guys like me. Called me pin-dick. Made fun of me for being short and hairless. I tried to be nice to them but they wouldn’t care either way. They always dated loud, obnoxious apes who were fighting and bragging in public all the time. Almost always these guys were black. I jerked off to blacked a ton. It was like my addiction. I tugged it to blacked and blackedraw and especially cuckold sessions. My favorite part was how white guys always got their little dicks humiliated by snow bunnies who just had to take the biggest cock available. My least favorite part was how I hated myself after I busted a nut. How I had to convince myself that BBC was a myth. How I wanted to cry and chop my dick off. Of course women would want the biggest dick they could get. They were shallow and stupid and only cared about getting the best train run on them but some nigger with a 2 foot cock. Why should I even bother? Even the nerdiest girl in my school could probably get some black asshole to fuck her if she acted slutty enough. I was sure every girl I ever liked thought I was a loser just because my dick was a bit below average. I didn’t trust women and I didn’t like them. The one exception I always thought was true was my own mother. She was tall, busty, beautiful, and always the nicest person in my life. I felt bad when I occasionally jerked off to a certain outfit she wore. How she’d occasionally show off enough skin for me to get turned on. Rubbing out a load into my hand still felt wrong, but it felt more normal. Plenty of guys said stuff like ‘I fucked your mom’. It couldn’t have been worse than me gooning to interracial porn I hated. One night I was doing just that. I was bored and my balls had been wanting to be drained all day after a good edging session last night. My homework was tossed around the floor while I was on the computer. My feet were spread on my desk with the keyboard and mouse on my stomach. I was slouched way down, and my pants were at my ankles while I played with myself. My little dick was rock hard as I watched Kendra Sutherland stare at a chocolate monster that was the size of her whole neck and head. Even hotter was the fact that a girl posted it.

I wanted to edge because post but clarity hit hard. I watched an amateur POV video of the viewers girlfriend explaining why big black cock was superior. How it was bigger and thicker and more filling and how it hit all her spots and whenever it came in her it flooded her womb and pussy until there was literally nothing left. She said she’d spoken to ‘your’ mom and sister and all your exes and they all take black cock on the regular. They all will never go back to white boys and all know you’re a tiny dicked loser who can’t satisfy a girl to save his life. But I at least got the change to be taught how to eat a creampie and was threatened with chastity if I came even once before she did. I had to let go of my dicklet then because I knew a light breeze would all it would take to cum. I wanted to get a chastity belt so I could stop spending every night gooning to blacked. I hated women and I hated these pornstars who bragged about how little they thought of guys like me. I never asked to be white or tiny dicked. I hoped I would find the rare loving girl like my mom. But I’ve heard of popular, smart jocks at my school being dumped because they didn’t measure up to girls standards. White jocks at least. And I didn’t wanna date an ugly girl, or some fat weirdo. But honestly I came to the fact that that’s all a teeny white nerd like me could get. I really wanted that chastity cage. It’s been embarrassing in the gym locker rooms but black guys already bullied the small cocks of white guys everyday so I wouldn’t feel much difference. The girls might be meaner but at least I’d get their attention. I thought of mom again. I’d seen my dad in the shower before. He was, like me, a short, unimpressive white man, and it turned out he had a totally tiny penis too. It might have even been smaller than mine. 3 inches was technically fine, but dad had a straight up micropenis. And if mom loved him with that, I was sure I had a chance. So tonight, I was jerking off yet again, but this time it was to more wholesome content. Instead of women getting brutally fucked by gigantic black dicks or POVs of women talking about how much better their horse cocks are. Today I was just watching a calm jerk off encouragement video with a calm, quiet girl who acted all loving and romantic. It still got my little shaft full of blood, so I was happy tugging to her. I started hearing something weird though. There was a loud moaning in the background. There was always loud moaning when I watched porn, but this jerk off session didn’t have that kind of video. I checked all my other tabs, but there wasn’t any hardcore porn anywhere. Then I took of my headphones. To my horror, I found it was aloud, but my headphones were still plugged in. Meaning… It had to be coming from somewhere else in the house! I live in my house with my parents and older sister, who was out with her friends touring a college a city away. My dad wasn’t home either, only my mom. So sure enough, when I followed the sound, it came from the end of the hallway her room. What was mom doing… I cracked open the door just a tiny bit- and there I saw it. She was laying down on the bed with her legs spread wide and her toes curled in what had to be pleasure because she was begging for more. What was worse was what was in between her legs. It was a black man, huge, tall, and muscular. The kind of- of nigger I hated! Fucking my own mom? “I’m cumming! Fuck I’m cumming on your big, huge black dick again!” He thin arms flopped to the side of her as she became like a ragdoll. Orgasm shot through her with loud moans. Orgasm!? I had spoken to a lot of girls online and even sexted. They told me they enjoyed sex, but never orgasmed. They said girls didn’t, so I shouldn’t feel bad if I couldn’t make one. But my mom obviously just had one. “Yeah, three times a night bitch!?” yelled the manly black bull she fucked. I was in shock. Three times a night? “And I haven’t even cum yet!” “Lets see- if you can last another half hour then!” A half an hour? How long had they been doing this for? Weren’t guys supposed to last for 2 minutes in real sex? No way that blacked garbage was REAL?! “I’m close babe,” he said, “but you gotta beg for it?” Beg? He was gonna make my mom- “Fuck yes, give it to me babe, give it to me, you know how much I love your cum, pull that huge fucking dick out stud, shoot your perfect hot thick fucking black cum all over me!” Unbelievable. I was seething- how could she do this? I was still coping though. No way MY mom was really there. It couldn’t be. And the things she was saying? Just dirty talk, right? “FUCK yes,” she let out. She breathed heavily. “Fuck you’re gonna make me fucking cum again before you do! Your dick’s better in every fucking way than my husbands!” I gulped. She HAD to just be saying this to turn him on. It was a nice thing. She’d probably been faking orgsms! There’s no way she could really love this nigger more than my dad, right? “Mmmmm, babe, scream again- I fuckin LIKE that!” “I can’t- we’re already being to loud- my son will hear!” “You told me you didn’t give a shit about him, babe, you just want my dick.” “Fuck… you’re right.” What the hell? “Give it to me! Yeah, yeah fucking give it to me!” “Ahhh fuck yeah babe, I’m fuckin cumming, I’m gonna cum raw in your tight little cunt!” “Pull out! Pull out pull out! I’m not on the pill!” “AH FUCK!!” He yelled, pulling back to rip his dick out of the pussy I was born from. I was hoping I’d be proven right about black dicks, that they were average, like any other dick. Maybe above average, if it felt especially good. I expected- no, I hoped to see a penis about 5 or 6 inches in length, seven at the most. “FUCK YEAH!” he yelled. That monster had to be a foot long. He slammed it down onto my mom’s toned stomach that she worked so hard on. She was proud of it. Now I could only think of how this huge, 12 inch dicked nigger slammed his huge cock on it and started cumming like a firehose. He shot thick ropes onto her tits, her face, even the pillows she shared with dad. And I was getting off to it. As they both breathed heavily in their afterglow, I snuck off before they noticed me peeping, and ran to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me a little too loud. Hopefully they wouldn’t be suspicious of that. Hell, hopefully it was a dream. I couldn’t believe it. Any of it! I washed my face with cold water and I hoped to wake up. I was already awake. I looked at my face. The face of the only son of a man and woman who really loved each other, right? I hated myself, but at least I could say that. Now I couldn’t. My mom was a whore, just like every other woman on earth.

I pulled my pants down. My small dick, a quarter his size, was still rock hard. I couldn’t believe it. What the hell was wrong with white women? What the hell was wrong with white dicks?? What the fucking hell was wrong… with me. I started jerking off.

#Interracial #story #bbc

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the-blackholeus · 4 years

Text

First Meeting (Dmitri Johannes Petrov X Grigori Olyat)

(A little Oneshot for those old men. I couldn’t get this out of my head so I just wrote it down. Have fun reading^^)

"Alright, recruits! It's time to get into the bus!"

The head of the young man straightened as the harsh voice of the woman reached his ears. His eyes fixated on her figure as she slowly walked by the rows of men and women standing there, backs straight, saluting in front of her. "You are the twirps that chosen to be the next security staff!" she yelled and stopped, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I must say I am surprised! I have seen much better candidates for the job than all of you!"

His lips twitched as the words left her mouth, but the brown-haired man forced himself to stay quiet. 'Control yourself.' he thought and took a deep breath through his nose. 'She's only trying to get to me.'

"Appearance, however, can cloud the judgment. I've been in this business for many years, and I know what I'm talking about!" the general growled and continued to walk. "Your worth will be proven when you arrive at one of the, if not the, strictest prison on this entire planet. The Wall!" The word echoed through the air, and he could see that some of his colleagues shuddered. "The discipline you have encountered until now is like a child's birthday party compared to what will await you there! There is no speaking out of turn for twirps like you! Now is your last chance to run with your tail between your legs! As soon as you enter the bus, there is no escape!"

Her voice got darker in the end, and she eyed some of them, especially Grigori. "I guarantee you, some of you won't even last one week." The eyes of the dark-haired man narrowed as she said that, but he stayed silent. He knew that she wanted him to speak out of turn, that he gave her a to turn him down, but he did not. Since he has been here, they've had problems, and she always searched for mistakes in his work, but never found them.

As much as she hated to admit it, Grigori Olyat was one of the best candidates those idiots ever had to offer. He was keen to please his superiors, he always listened to every command and never asked any questions, he was one of the few to use his head before he used his muscles, he was almost perfect, and that made her blood boil.

She waited for him to step back, to run with his tail between his legs, but he remained standing, and soon made his way to the bus that will bring him to his new working place. The probably strictest and most secured prison on this planet.

The drive was tense. The young man was sure he could cut the air with a butter knife if he had one in his pockets. The people were silent, some of them were shaking, probably regretting their choice to get in. He swallowed thickly, leaning back in his seat, turning his head to the window to look at the outside. He watched as they drove up on a small mountain, having trouble with the storm that blew against them. He heard the driver curse in Spanish under his breath before he increased the speed. Finally, the vehicle let them continue their journey.

They nearly were thrown out of their seat by the force of the push. Grigori growled as he just prevented his face from being slammed onto the cold, hard ground of the gigantic bus, sighing in relief when he leaned back in his seat again. That was close.

Others, however, were not as lucky as he was. He saw how many men and women forced themselves back up, rubbing the aching spots on their bodies with a pained expression on their faces. He had to hold back a grin that was slowly spreading on his face and cleared his throat while turned his head back to the window, but this time, he saw nothing but white.

Damn storm.

He sighed softly and shook his head, closing his eyes, trying his best to relax and fall asleep, knowing that this drive would be longer than expected.

---

Grigori grunted as the bus violently stopped and almost threw him out of his seat again. He rubbed his eyes before he glared at the bus driver, who merely scoffed at him, opening the door so everyone could leave. He stood up and stretched himself a little bit to get the sleep out of his system, grabbing his back before throwing it over his shoulder.

He stepped out of the bus, walking behind the others who were already forming a row. He pulled his thick coat tighter around his muscular body, shivering softly as the cold air hit his skin. Damn, he knew it was chilly up here, but it was way worse than he had expected. Maybe it was a mistake to wear a simple, thin shirt underneath. Suddenly, a loud whistle echoed through the air, and all of the soldiers straightened their backs, including him. He lifted his head to look at the highest balcony, where a few prison-guards stood, weapons tightly in their hands, facing them with the sternest expression he had ever seen on anyone, even his trainer.

Most of them shut up, only a few mumbled to one another as the door leading to the outside slowly opened, a tall, muscular man stepping out. He wore a grey uniform that was mostly hidden behind a thick winter coat, but the black tie had such a strong contrast that it shone through. His skin was much paler than he deemed possible, probably a consequence of being up here, hidden from the sun’s rays.

He also wore a black cap that was hiding his black hair, ending barely above his eyes, hiding them behind the shadows. His visible flesh was covered with thick scars, and his stern face twisted into a slightly annoyed expression. Slowly, he lowered his head, exposing sharp, golden orbs which seemed to glow brightly in the dimly lit area. He cleared his throat before he began to speak in a heavily accented voice, sending shivers down everyone's spine.

"Hello, dear newcomers! My name is Dmitri Johannes Petrov, and I am the warden of "The Wall”. I have been in charge for the last twenty years. Since the day I took over, there has been no serious incident or outbreak, and since we are keeping some of the most cunning and notorious criminals here, I only accept the best out of the best.", the man, Dmitri Petrov as Grigori now knew, mentioned with his gloved hand to the hole in the middle of the area where those special cases were probably locked up. "Be sure to encounter discipline you have never felt before! This place is a prison complex and not a playground for you. I will have you under my watch! All of you, and if you make any mistakes, be assured that I will know of it! I wish you all good luck in your first week. You will need it."

Slowly, he turned around, throwing one last look at them, his eyes meeting Grigori's for the split of a second, who had listened exactly to those stern words before, he disappeared out of everyone's sight.

---

A week has passed, and Grigori was one of the few who were doing well so far. Being assigned to an area almost right next to Dmitri's office was hard, but thanks to his training, he managed to keep everything under his control.

The warden kept his promise to keep an eye on them. He saw him at least two or three times a day. He always walked past him, his sharp eyes looking directly at his work to control it before he turned around and left with a "Keep it up". Grigori had to admit that this was kind of creepy, and every time he approached, he got goosebumps.

Just like right now.

He heard the heavy steps of the man behind him and turned around to face him. He wore his usual grey uniform with black gloves and tie, but this time, he had his hair open, and brunette noticed they were just long enough to tie them back into a small ponytail.

"Hello, sir.", he greeted him with a nod and fixated the inmate who decided to cause trouble. "Hello, Grigori. Working as always, I see." The warden sounded pleased, and the younger male felt warmth in his stomach as he heard the tune in his voice. "Yes, of course, sir. What else would I do? You gave me an order, and I complied. Those are the rules of "The Wall" after all." "Yes, they are.", the oldest male spoke and grinned at the inmate, who scowled at him. "I see that everything is alright here. Continue this kind of behavior, Grigori, and I assure you, it won't be long until a big promotion." The young man nodded and just wanted to bring the prisoner to where he belonged, but he oversaw that he somehow managed to get one hand free and got punched straight into his face.

With a grunt, the brown-haired man collided with the floor, one of his hands covering up his now bleeding nose. He opened his eyes, which he had closed as the pain shot through his body, and saw how the man, too, punched Dmitri in his face and shoved him violently against the wall, hard enough to break his skin but not strong enough to send him into unconsciousness. The new prison-guard reacted quickly and swallowed any kind of pain before he jumped his feet and took after him.

As he realized that there was no way that he would manage to catch up with him, Grigori reached into his pockets and pulled out his gun, shooting into the inmate's leg. The man collided on the floor, crying out in agony while the young prison-guard called for help, immediately running over to Dmitri, who was bleeding violently from the back of his skull.

"Is Grigori! I need two first-aid attendants, quick. An inmate and the warden are injured!" He waited until he got a "Roger" in return before he kneeled next to the older man. "Sir, are you alright?" he asked urgently and helped him to his feet, cringing slightly as the other’s nails dug into his skin. "Yeah.", Dmitri forced out of his throat as he leaned against him. "Just...my head hurts. I think I have a concussion." With Grigori's help, he managed to remain standing when the first-aid attendants arrived and helped him. "What happened?" the young woman asked as she carefully covered up the wound on the warden's head.

"An inmate attempted to escape. He punched me in the face and slammed our boss against the wall.", was his short answer, which caused her to turn her head to him, cringing as she saw his nose. "That looks broken.", she told him and finished patching her boss up before she walked over to him. "I need to get both of you to the medical station. I don't like how your nose looks." The young prison-guard huffed but nodded and helped her to support his boss with walking.

One day passed, and Grigori was back in duty.

The inmate who had tried to escape had been punished and now sat in a cell with maximum security. The warden's guess was correct, and he now laid in the medical station with a severe concussion. With his absence, the tension in the prison's halls disappeared, and the guards who had been silent began to talk with one another, a fact that let his blood boil in anger. How could those morons be so calm and happy when their boss was in the medical station, suffering from constant headaches and nausea? Many told him that they were glad that they wouldn't have to encounter him for a little while, that they could finally relax and don't have to fear his sudden appearance.

"Grigori!"

The young prison-guard flinched violently as the sudden voice echoed through the air, ripping him away from his thoughts, and he turned his head towards the woman that was walking towards him. "Yes?" "The warden requires your presence in the medical station.", she told him and pushed him into the direction they needed to go. Knowing he would get in trouble for not listening to her command, he went with her and soon was lead to the door that was hiding a whole area of professional healer and punch of injured prison-guards. The woman nodded at him one last time before she continued to walk down the hall, leaving him standing.

He sighed and shook his head before he entered, walking straight for the chief doctor, who immediately recognized him. "There you are.", he spoke as Grigori stopped right in front of him. "He's already waiting for you. You either did something really dumb or something incredible."

Confused by those words, the young prison-guard asked what he meant as he was shown to the door his boss was behind. "He never would let anyone that is not a nurse or a doctor come near him when he is so vulnerable unless it's something that cannot wait until his recovery, and you can say that you’re the first man that is not from the medical staff to see our warden injured, ever. You can be proud or disappointed in yourself." Grigori merely hummed before he pushed the door open, entering the room as quietly as he could. He immediately spotted the older man lying in his bed, a book in his lab, his sharp eyes already fixated on him.

"I thought you would never come.", Dmitri grunted as he forced himself to sit up, holding his aching forehead while doing so. "I'm sorry but had to be lead here. I don’t know these walls very well yet.", the younger male apologized and waited for permission to take a seat, which he got with a short nod. "You surely remembered what happened yesterday.", his boss asked and scowled, showing his teeth.

"This incident is not only embarrassing for myself, but also a shame to the "Wall". But I have to admit your performance was exceptional. Your quick reaction was one of the reasons why the inmate was caught so quickly, and I have to say, I'm impressed. You did well, and I want to give you a promotion.” Grigori blinked, his eyes widening in surprise as the words echoed through his head. “A-a promotion?”, he asked, making sure he hadn’t misheard the words that just left his boss’s lips. “Yes, a promotion. You might only work here for a week, but you’ve already proven your worth more than many others in years. You are not only talented, but also smart and you know what to say and what to do if there is an emergency.” The older man began to grin. “Continue like this, and you certainly will become my right hand man.”

Shock was the only emotion the young man felt right now. His eyes were almost popping out of his skull and he would have remained sitting there for hours if it wouldn’t have been for the “Back to work now.”. Grigori nodded his head and stood up with a small “Thank you, sir” before he left the room, feeling so much pride bloom his chest that he could burst right here and now.

---

“The new recruits have arrived.”

Dmitri looked up from his computer as the voice of his right hand man echoed through the room and scowled as he realized what just had been said. Grigori was leaning against the wall, wearing a black coat over his grey uniform and a hat on his head to protect him from the cold wind outside. His right arm was in a cast, still freshly broken from the accident caused by a fleeing inmate. “Great. A new bunch of juveniles that have no idea how to behave.”, the warden growled, showing his teeth…at least those who remained after that girl hit him with a stop sign, which also resulted in a concussion, almost like all those years ago.

“Maybe they won’t be so bad. I was once one of them too, you know.”, he huffed and walked up to him, leaning over the table. “I know, but you’re a piece of gold in a mountain made of dirt. I may remind you that you are one of eight that remained here.”, he growled and rolled his eyes, forcing himself out of his chair.

“Five, three of them died in the escape incident.”, the younger man corrected him, earning a sharp glare. “Fine then, five. Makes it even worse.”, he hissed at him and stood up, stretching his back. “Well, better than no one at all, right?”, he asked softly and walked up to him, pulling him down for a short peck on his lips. At this, the old man smiled, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Yes, you’re right.”, he muttered and pressed his lips against his. The kiss lingered for quite a while, and the younger man panted heavily as he pulled back, his healthy arm wrapped tightly around Dmitri’s shoulder. He leaned against him, trying to catch his breath while a smile spread on his face as he felt his lover relax a little bit. He looked so much more handsome if his face was not twisted into this almost evil expression he always had.

“Now, grab your coat. I think that they’re already waiting for you. The faster you introduce yourself, the sooner we get back, and the sooner, we can spend time together.”, Grigori whispered and stole one last kiss before he turned around, giving his lover a smug grin and a wiggle with his eyebrows before he disappeared out of the door. The warden could not help but grin at those words, grabbing his coat almost too fast for the eye to see, following the around twenty years younger man out, realizing that he was right.

#henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin series #dmitri johannes petrov #grigori olyat #first meeting

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acopenhagenarmy · 5 years

Text

HUSH DARLING

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Warning: Dirty talk, praising kink, diry talk, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, dom!hobi, sub!reader

Summary: Being besties with Jung Hoseok has it’s perks, especially after a drunk night out...

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: I told you, you would get something every day until friday, and it’s gonna be so much fun!

____________________

”Hoseok, stop dancing on the tables!” You all laughed, as you watched Taehyung desperately running after a very happy Hobi, doing his best to make his hyung behave in the restaurant you’d all rented out. But you all knew that this would be an incredibly difficult task, because a drunk Hobi, was a determined Hobi.

Nights like this were the best, sure you might have the restaurant to yourselves, but it still made you all feel like some fucked up youngsters in their twenties. Which was very different from your everyday lives. The boys had their music and a literal ARMY running around after them everywhere they went. And because of that you, and the rest of the girls had to watch them in the spotlight, from the very lonesome shadows.

You’d been best friends with Hoseok since that one day in Paris where the two of you literally ran into each other at the airport. Because of his broad and very muscular chest it was like running into a brick wall, and you of course ended up on the floor. Looking up you saw a very confused but laughing boy with a heart shaped smile.

He had laughed a little while you’d spotted the fans running towards him. You knew who he was, after all him and the rest of the boys were the reason why you were there, so all you said from your place from the floor was: “You need to go now Hoseok, before they catch up. I’m okay, so go, I’ll see you tonight”

His expression went from happy to confused in the blink of an eye, as the security pushed him away from you. You’d never imagine you would be this close to one of your idols, but you’d always respected their privacy and hated those who didn’t. Which was why you told him to go. As he got pushed further away all he did was yell back: “Where do you sit?” and your answer was Y.

After a very long day, and a nap that was way to short you were finally at the stadium, but as you entered you were rushed away by security. You did your very best to keep calm, but it got harder as you walked through the hidden halls of the gigantic stadium. They pushed you inside a room and told you to wait. So you did, and that was when he entered. He wanted to thank you for helping him, so he’d arrange for you to get the full VIP-package, and from there the two of you became the best of friends.

Which is how you found yourself laughing your ass off with Seokjins fiancé, as you watched your drunk friends behave like crackheads. It wasn’t often you were all gathered like this, friends, boyfriends, fiancées. You name it, and you had it. But the night was coming to an end, soon the sun would be up, which meant you all had to crawl back into the shadows.

“Hope get your ass over here” You let go of Anna, who you up until now had used as your anchor while your laughed. For some reason you were the only one who could get through to Hoseok when ever he drank. He looked at you with the eyes of his stage persona, as he walked towards you as he licked his lips.

You rolled your eyes at him and opened your arms for him to wrap you in a tight hug as he usually did. Your little gesture worked, and he went from a predator to a fluff-ball in need of lots of affection and love, in a matter of seconds.

“Can we please go home?” He was much taller than you, and as his arms snaked around your body, he looked down at you with pleading eyes.

“Of course, we can my hope”

He hummed in appreciation, as he rested his chin on top of your head. Locking his hands around your lower back, and pulled you close to his chest. You laughed a little as you spotted Taehyungs amazed look.

“How the fuck did you do that?! I’ve been running around for forty minutes trying to get him to calm down, and now you’re telling me all you needed to do, was-was that?!” Behind him all you could see was the boys who practically were laying on top of each other as they laughed their asses off.

“It’s a talent Tae, don’t take it personally” You gave him a little wink as Hobi pulled you even closer

“She’s the Hobi whisperer, it has nothing to do with you, trust me! I’ve been there more times than I can count” Jin said as he blew him a kiss.

The pout on Tae’s lips might be a dramatic effect, but the hurt in his eyes were real. The way he stared at the floor caused you to break free from Hobi’s arms to wrap your friend in your own. Anything for making him smile once again.

“I’m gonna take him home now okay? He needs water, McDonalds and a lot of sleep if he’s gonna get to practice tomorrow” You gave Taehyung a little squeeze at the end of the sentence, which made him giggle into the crook of your neck.

“Okay noona. Thank you.”

“Anything for you my sweet boy” a small bush were creeping in on the young boys cheeks at the pet-name you gave him.

“Yaaaaaah! (Y/N) come on we need to go! I’m in serious need of a hamburger and Yoongi want fries”

“Your coming too?” You looked at Yoongi with a puzzled look, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders as response.

“Uh! I want food as well!” The boys tall and forever graceful leader came stumbling towards the three of you, almost falling over his own feet.

You shook your head, well there was nothing else to do, than to get these three some food and then to bed.

------

“Noona don’t leave me” You were almost out the door when you looked back at a pouting Hoseok with his arms stretched out towards you, as he made grabby hands. You rested against the doorframe with a tiered smile;

“You need to sleep Hobi”

“Hell no, I need cuddles… Please come cuddle me?” He looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Okay, okay. But you need to keep quiet, we don’t wanna wake the others” You looked at both Yoongi and Namjoon who filled the other bed in the room.

“Yay! Come here I wanna spoon you”

A small chuckle left you as you laid beside your best friend. His strong arms found your waist and pulled you close to him, as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

“You smell so nice noona” He hummed as he pulled you even closer, his lips were so close to your neck you could feel his breath, leaving goosebumps on your entire body. You could feel the blood rushing to color your cheeks a light red, and you thanked the gods for the dark room.

His long fingers started to explore your body, which made you shiver with every light touch he left on your bare skin.

“You’re shaking baby, are you cold?”

“Don’t call me that Hobi, I’m not you baby”

“Your right, you’re my baby girl, aren’t you (Y/N)?” The boldness in his voice made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t right, he was your best friend. But his touch was everything you’d ever longed for, and you wanted more. No, you needed more.

The next thing you felt was his soft lips against the back of your neck and even softer fingers caressing the bare skin on your back, underneath the oversized t-shirt you’d borrowed only thirty minutes earlier. An almost silent moan escaped your lips as his hands caressed your ass slowly tracing your panties with a touch so light, you doubted it was even there.

At least that was until his finger slowly slipped further underneath them, as he slowly bit the soft skin on your neck to masker the amazing moans that left him. His fingers slowly rubbed along your damp lips, stroking and teasing you.

You couldn’t do anything but spread your legs to allow him to enter inside you. He pulled the duvets of you and looked down at your naked form as you laid there, face full of pleasure that he caused. He smirked as his eyes ate your body whole, biting his lips as he said:

“Look at you, being such a good girl taking everything I give you. Gosh Y/N, you’ve no idea for just how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan my name in pleasure.”

His long fingers started to poke at your small entrance, teasing you with their presence. You moaned out his name, which both sounded so wrong yet so right.

“Hush darling, we don’t wanna wake the others, do we? Or would you like an audience?”

One of his hands grabbed you breast and twisted your nipple as he spoke, leaving you in a state of pure euphoria. But his words still got to you, and suddenly you remembered just where and who you were with.

“Hoseok we can’t do this, everyone will hear. A-and we’re friends…” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, and while your brain did it best to try to find a meaning behind Hoseoks actions, his touch made it impossible for you to do any kind of rational thinking.

He slipped a finger inside of you and inhaled sharply as he heard the soft moan escape you lips once again. “Oh darling, have I’ve been to good at hiding it? My love and my desire for you?” As he said the word, he pushed yet another finger inside of you, watching over you as your facial expression once again captured his attention.

He loved having you like this, in his arms close to him, face in a light blush with an open mouth he couldn’t wait to devour. So that’s what he did. He flipped you over so that the two of you finally faces each other, pulling one of your legs over his hip, making your wet center hover over his growing member. And then he leaned in to kiss you.

He was drunk, he knew that, but he’d wanted you for so long, and now there was no turning back. His lips took your breath away as they found yours. Sparks went of inside your chest, as your hands found his hair and pulled him closer.

Your tongues dances as he grabbed your ass, pushing your core into him, grinding against him. His stiff cock was only hidden away from your soaking hole with the slim briefs he had worn to bed. He pumped his fingers in and out, making small whimpers leave you as your walls pulsed around him.

A sound of need leaves your mouth before you even notice it, as he pulls his long fingers out of you.

“Gosh baby girl do you need me that bad? Do you want me to fill you up real good, huh? Want me to fill you with my cock?”

He grabs the hem of his briefs as he speaks and pulls them down, revealing his thick and long member. Showing you just what you’ve been missing all these years. You instantly lick your lips by the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to lick and suck the life out of him as he squirms beneath your touch.

“Can I feel you? Oh gosh please let me feel you” You can almost hear the whine in his voice as he scoots even closer towards you. He releases a long and hot breath when you start rubbing your tight pink pussy on the tip of his cock, your way of telling him, that you want this just as much as he does.

“You’re such a tease baby girl, making me want you even more without ever giving me what you know I crave” He bites your earlobe and align himself with your entrance.

“Can I put it in? I promise I’ll be gentle… At first”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ Hobi, just fuck me already” You forget that you aren’t alone in the room, and almost yell at him in want and need.

He has done an incredible job at warming up and slide right in between your tight walls as both of you moan out into the room. He’s big and the burning stretch you feel is replaced by pleasure as he starts to grind into you.

His lips find yours and your hands finds his hair and pulls slightly as he spanks your ass. You bite your lip to conceal the loud moans that threaten to escape you as the sting from his hands leave a pink mark. He slide in and out of you with ease, like the two of you were made for each other. Hitting all the right places in his way leaving you trembling after every touch.

“Your pussy is so tight and needy baby girl, every time I try to pull out you suck me back in. Has it been long since anyone has been able to please you like this?” His hand reach down between your bodies finally giving some attention to your swollen clit.

“Gosh, fuck! I’m so close!” The knot inside your stomach grows bigger with every swirl of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s right baby, come for me, I wanna know how it feels when that pretty little pussy comes all over my dick”

His thrusts was getting sloppier, and you knew he was close as well, so you look him in the eyes and moan: “Come with me baby, I wanna feel you fill me up with your hot seed” Your filthy words are all it takes to push him over the edge, and the feeling of him spilling everything he has inside of you is what push you over as well.

He hides his face in the crook of your neck as he stays inside of you, even after he gets soft. He pulls you close and kiss you wherever his lips can make contact with skin.

“That was amazing, you are amazing” His eyes sparkle as he gives you the compliment, and he continues: “I’m never letting you go Y/N, not after I’ve had you like this. We’re never letting you go”

You laugh a little, he must be fucked out of his mind.

“Hobi I think you’re a little confused, it’s you not we” You look down at him and see the smirk that creeps onto his lips

“Oh no, he’s right when he says we” You push Hoseok away from you naked form, desperate with covering yourself up by the sudden sound of Yoongi.

You look towards both of the boys, in the bed across from you pupils blown, as they palm themselves through their pants.

Namjoon looks at you as he bites his bottom lip “We all want you kitten, so will you let us have you?”

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ameftowriter · 5 years

Text

5738 A.D. 4,1 (Dr. Stone fanfic)

The first Dr. Stone fanfic I’ve written so far. I gotta say I wrote this so quickly and so fast last night while still giving out candy to kids XD.

Spoiler warning on the cellphone arc though.

Also this is exactly, 3719 words. Cookies to the one who gets it XD

Anyway, I hope you all like it and enjoy!

Gen was still having a hard time taking everything in. Was it really the year 5739? The mentalist just couldn’t wrap his head around it. On top of it all, those statues. So many statues. They were people, turned to stone.

He had realized that something terrible has happened and it affected every human being on earth.

He was affected too, considering the position he woke up from. He remembered that he had just finished his act. Hearing the cheers and applause from a delighted audience, that’s when everything went dark.

And the next thing he knew was a bright light, facing an open ocean.

He wondered if this was a prank, he’s seen a lot of celebrity prank shows, to be a victim of that disgusted him. He was a mentalist, being subjected to a prank like this defies his very image.

That is until he heard a deep commanding voice from the background.

“Welcome to the year 5739 AD”

He felt cold sweat drip off his currently naked body. He turned to recognize the man who broke him out of the dark stone prison. It was Shishio Tsukasa… the strongest primate high schooler.

He was then given some clothes to wear, made by their resident tailor named Yuzuriha. He didn’t know who she was, but was grateful for her.

It was… clothes he supposes. It was a tunic of sorts that reached up to his knees. Made of animal skin. He wanted to ask for a T-Shirt and Jeans. Then again… if it really was year 5739, and everyone was petrified…

He nearly stumbled on a statue lying around. He gained back his footing and turned to see what tripped him. His eyes widened to see that it was his manager.

Memories of the man flooded his head. When he first started, he would try to use him, booking his shows back to back, expecting him to nearly give up his own education and even family life for his acts. He tried to milk so much money from his acts, Gen was sure it was borderline illegal. But eventually he found a weakness to the man and he became an easy target for Gen’s manipulation. Sometimes he used him as a guinea pig for any new acts he had thought of. He nearly had him prance around the streets naked once as a form of revenge.

But if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have become this popular and famous…

He wouldn’t have had the money to…

Tsukasa shattered the manager’s head beneath his feet.

Gen nearly jumped back at the sudden destruction in front of him.

“I apologize for startling you.” Tsukasa spoke up, “I remember this man once, he was your manager yes?”

Gen could only nod.

“He tried to charm me to having you and I do more shows together, he treated us as if were freaks in a carnival. I cannot stand adults like that…”

It didn’t take a mentalist, to know how every word he spoke dripped of hatred and loathing. Gen looked at the remains of the destroyed statue, and felt his stomach churn.

He hated his manager yes, but…

For someone to just mercilessly destroy that…

They had arrived at the Empire of Might as Tsukasa had called it. Gen could only look at it with awe as he saw various forms of treehouses and caves made out of gigantic tree trunks. But most of all, he saw that almost every man and even women around him were muscular and looked like they would be able to carry him like he was a feather.

Then Gen met the said tailor, Yuzuriha, and the big oaf that he was pretty sure that he was her boyfriend, Taiju.

Gen thanked her for the clothes. But wonders if he could ask her for something more… sophisticated. Something that suits his style.

Tsukasa agreed, he saw Gen as a valuable member of the Empire, but he also needed him for a mission.

Yuzuriha agreed to do it without any questions asked.

Gen missed paper and pencil or any kind of writing instruments. But it seemed that the girl understood his directions.

While they waited for his new outfit, Tsukasa began explaining to him about a certain “miracle fluid” that had broken him out of the petrified state.

That peaked his interest, not that he would show it.

As Tsukasa brought him to a cave and along a few other muscular men with him, Gen brushed his fingers against a tree without realizing it.

Thats where he felt it.

He knew tree bark was rough and could hurt depending on the tree, but it felt weird to him. To him it was like… like… Something was engraved into the tree.

He moved his hand away and saw a carving into the tree he held on.

A.D.

5738

4, 1

“Fifty-seven, thirty-eight… Four, One…” Gen read the engraving. “5738, 4, 1…”

It was like everything he had known right now had changed.

He wondered how… how would Tsukasa be able to determine the current year. Was it even really year 5739?

But this engraving shows it. 5738… It’s been a year since the engraving was written in the tree. April 1st… How did the writer knew of the exact date even…

“5738… April 1st…” Gen repeated himself, “H-How…. How did… How could someone…?”

“No…” Gen gathered his thoughts, “Someone… someone must have carved this after breaking out… They had to. But… How would… would they know the exact date…”

“Is it even possible…?!”

He read again the crude kanji and the numbers written on the tree. It was clearly there. It wasn’t some sort of hallucination… It was actually written there…

“This… this is…” Gen shuddered in excitement at the realization of someone like that existed, and broke out first, “This is too antastic-fay! Whoever did this… Must be…”

Then his thoughts were interrupted by Tsukasa calling him to the cave.

Gen quickly dashed inside. To see Tsukasa standing in front of a pile of… bat guano. Gen’s nose scrunched up at the awful smell and saw yellow liquid dripping down from the cave’s ceiling, to a clay bowl.

He quickly deduced it as a so called “miracle fluid” that Tsukasa had mentioned. But when he read Tsukasa’s expression, he felt there was more… than just that fluid…

That night, he couldn’t stop thinking about that engraving.

5738 A.D. April 1.

He wondered who could even do that. In that darkness. For almost 4000 years, calculated the year, month and date. The exact date?!

He thought of possibilities. He knew you can tell how old a tree is by cutting it and counting the number of rings… But that would have been a gigantic tree. He considered the number of natural disasters that could have destroyed it way before the next millenia… So he scratched out that idea. He thought maybe some sort of machine that could tell the time survived, but he hasn’t seen a sign of any kind of civilization, let alone a machine that could tell the time. His thoughts wandered of any kind of sci-fi theory he’s seen. But just like before, he saw nothing…

Nothing from the year 2019.

Gen curled up onto his sheets. It has hit him again, the realization that there was nothing left from the year he knew. No buildings, no cars… no cola even…

He felt the sudden urge for a bottle.

As he realized he couldn’t sleep he stepped outside of his living quarters and saw the stars in the sky. It was numerous, more than he could ever count.

Count…

That’s when he thought of something… a completely etched-fay possibility…

Yes, there was no machine or anything that could tell the time, but the fact remained that time still moved forward, no matter what…

It was something insane. Something that no human being should be able to do, but it was possible…

He had heard rumours of a kid who counted the exact seconds within a month, and he had counted it exactly.

“To count the passing seconds…” Gen thought to himself, “To do that during all that time in the darkness…”

Many feelings he suddenly felt for this mystery counter. Excitement, pity, delight, fear… In order to do that, he would have had to remain conscious all that time… Gen eventually felt nothing and his mind went completely blank after a while. When Tsukasa revived him, he thought everything before was just a dream… a long 3720 year dream…

He had to find them… he had to find the person who could have done this feat… He had to know. He had to know this person. He had to pick him apart and understand his own way of thinking. He had to analyze everything about him. He had to know how and why would he do such a ridiculous yet logical thing.

He hadn’t felt this eager in knowing a person he hasn’t even met.

The rest of that night spent thinking about this person. He smiled at the thought of someone else being this unique.

It was like… to him it was like getting excited over a book he had heard only good reviews about.

Yes he was skeptical, but the thought of someone like this.

It got him excited.

Yuzuriha finished his new outfit the next day, he was very grateful for her. Especially after hearing the fact that she spent all night with it. Gen felt a bit bad for her, until he heard her voice crack just a little…

Gen did not have supersonic hearing, but as a mentalist, he taught himself to pay attention to people’s subtle noises. He wonders if Yuzuriha is lying to him.

He tried the new outfit on, and it fits him just right. He was definitely impressed with her.

Tsukasa called for him after he had finished his new outfit.

He was given a mission…

“Those dusty old fossils who used to be in power…” Tsukasa began as he led Gen to a path in the forest, “Are even less necessary in this natural world of stone…”

Gen didn’t hear a hint of hesitation from those words. In fact to him Tsukasa spoke of his ideals in such great confidence and conviction, that the mentalist felt a bit swayed by those. Especially when he said…

“But I see a massive amount of potential in you… Gen.”

Gen felt himself snap out of that trance. He knew Tsukasa had a lot of natural charisma, but even he as a master of minds, felt like he was grabbed instantly and quickly, as if he got there by himself. He cursed himself mentally, as he remembered how Tsukasa crushed the statue of his manager. And all of the other pieces of statues he has seen scattered everywhere.

“There’s something I need you for…” Gen’s attention was grabbed again as Tsukasa cleared some branches to reveal a treehouse, made by… concrete? He wondered. “And your skills as a mentalist will be invaluable…”

Gen saw on the side a few empty jars, crude makeshift spears… he was surprised that even the ladder that leads up to the treehouse was still sturdy. To him it looked like it was all abandoned.

But that wasn’t where they went, rather, Tsukasa led him to a hut near the tree house. It had a worn out sign that said, “Laboratory”.

Tsukasa led him inside and the mentalist saw broken clay pots everywhere. He watched his step, as he moved in closer to see more and more broken pieces scattered everywhere. To him it was an obvious sign that whoever lived here scrambled to take everything and left. To the untrained eye that is.

Gen saw this was too intentional. It was too much of a mess for him. He thought maybe a scuffle, but that would have caused those shelves to fall apart. To him, it is as if the previous occupants just intentionally took those jars and smashed them.

“Follow them for me.” Tsukasa gave him his mission, Gen’s deductions were right, “And get inside of their minds… Perhaps I’m being overly cautious, but I want you to track down this man Senku and tell me if he’s dead or hiding out somewhere…

Senku…

And there it is the name of the person he was looking for.

‘Senku…’ Gen thought to himself. He tried to think of anyone he knew by that name, none came to mind.

So he asked, “Who is Senku?”

“He, was the first of us to revive…” Tsukasa replied.

‘First? Don’t tell me…’

“He used his knowledge of science to create a formula to undo the petrification.” he continued as Gen took in this invaluable information, “That’s how he revived me…”

Gen couldn’t hide his surprise anymore.

‘This Senku person… revived Tsukasa? He created a formula to undo the petrification?’

“This man…” Tsukasa continued as Gen felt the man’s voice grew bitter, “His only desire is to revive everyone, no matter who they were…”

‘What? He… what?’

“He’ll bring back the same people who ruined our world…. And they’ll make weapons…” Gen felt every word laced with pure hatred.

“He was the most intelligent man alive, and that’s why I killed him myself…”

He saw Tsukasa’s eyes narrowed as he finished his sentence. Gen held back even his own expressions, but to hear that from Tsukasa’s mouth, he finally understood.

He finally understood what he had to do.

Gen enjoyed it. He enjoyed experimenting and toying with the human mind and the limitless possibilities of the human psyche. He mostly used it for his own benefit and gain, but that’s what the world, the previous world, taught him. To him adults were easy picking, even more so than teenagers and children. He knew as one grows older, the ideals and beliefs, and biases a person has learned will stick longer and thus harder to change or remove. Gen knew of this and exploited it to his heart’s content.

He asked Tsukasa if he could stay a bit more to inspect the area. The man let him, and asked if he knew the way back.

Gen knew the way back.

When he realized that he was finally alone, he quickly observed the area. He looked at the pieces of the broken jars, the stains on the floor and at the walls, he saw the various broken tools nearby. He then rushed into the tree house and saw the same mess as the lab. Gen saw this as a laughable way to make it look like they got scared and escaped.

He saw Tsukasa’s expressions, the hatred in his words… Tsukasa was scared. Very scared. He only knew of Tsukasa as a fearless man who would stare down other fighters bigger and stronger than he was, and took them down easily. For someone to induce such paranoia and fear in him…

He has to know. He has to know who this Senku person is.

He just has to!

After gathering what he can from the area, he went back to the Empire. He gave Tsukasa what he could deduce in the area, and said that he probably dashed at around southeast to where the Empire was.

Tsukasa in turn gave him more information that was more valuable than even he thought.

Gen was right it was southeast to where they were, Hakone (or it would have used to be considering the lack of any buildings). He was also told of a blond haired, blue eyed girl that seemed to have no knowledge of science and had a very primitive way of thinking,.He was shocked to hear that there is a possibility of a village of primitives in that area, and that Senku might have made contact with them if that was the case. So now he had a destination in mind.

Hakone. Around a two day walk from where they were now. Gen didn’t particularly like the idea of walking so far and so long, but his desire to meet this Senku was what pushed him further.

Before he left, he asked Yuzuriha for some extra materials and a cutting tool.

His journey was long and painful, especially since he didn’t wear any shoes. Along the way he picked up many nightshade flowers and stored them into various hidden sacks underneath his clothes. He even found many berries and even some small animals he could use to make fake blood bags for his own protection, just in case everything went downhill for him. He knew when to expect the worst. After all, he made a living from expecting the worst in people and exploiting it.

His journey took way longer than two days. He was exhausted, yes, but every step further was one step closer to meeting this Senku. He thought it was worth it.

From what he knew about the positions of his shadows, he had deduced it was around noon. He walked further and further through the forest, and that’s when he heard something, music. He heard music playing nearby, he walked closer to the source, and saw it, clear as day. A village, built on two small peninsulas connected by a bridge, and in front of it was…

Well to his surprise. It was a ramen stand.

Gen approached the stand closer then was quickly given a bowl of said ramen by a child wearing a melon mask over her head. He thought it was kind of cute.

He felt a pang of hunger as he took a whiff of the bowl on his hands. It was a crude version of ramen that he knew, but well, he supposed it was still ramen. So he took a bite.

Gen nearly gagged from the taste.

He remained very quiet despite the complete awfulness the dish had. He couldn’t even call this ramen. He heard this was foxtail millet ramen.

Once again he nearly gagged at the thought of foxtail. Foxtail, was what the noodles were made out of. He could feel the grainy texture and the bitter aftertaste of the ramen.

It was ositive-pay awful!

But he heard nothing but praises for this dish. Gen peered to see other people wearing similar clothes like the one the melon girl wore. It looked like they were almost inhaling the ramen. It was a complete consensus that it was the best thing they’ve ever had.

That’s one other thing that hits Gen.

He sighs and misses something way more than ramen right now.

One of them quickly asked for seconds and Gen sighed and realized with the stereotypical glutton man. He supposed that in any kind of era there’s always a glutton.

Then his attention quickly changed when he saw the man at the stand itself, putting the ramen together.

His hair stood out the most, literally. Even at the year 2019, he would have easily stood out. He wondered if it’s dyed or if he used any hair products. Almost every bit of his hair stood upwards defying gravity. To Gen he looked like a walking giant leek or bok choy. Then when he turned sideways, that’s when Gen finally saw his face. He looked sweaty and tired, but his face is full of eagerness and pride, that admittingly seemed contagious. The most noticeable features were the two jagged scars that lined and bent up from his forehead down to this eye line and just below the eyelid. The Mentalist instinctively touched his own scar.

He remembered the explanation Tsukasa gave him. That these scars are just a side effect of the depetrification process.

Gen remembered the day when he saw his reflection at the river and saw the scar running underneath his left eyelid, where it turned to shape his mouth then went straight down his chain and his neck. To him this was a reminder that he was petrified and awakened. Which meant, this man was…

“Are you the man who made this incredible food?” He heard a young girl approach the man with such eagerness and obvious intent of flirting, “the one called, Senku?”

Senku…

This green haired, prideful, obviously exhausted guy…

Is Senku?

Gen tried hard to cover his laughter. This was the man that Tsukasa, the strongest primate high school, was scared about? He looked physically weak. Everything about him was so lanky and skinny. It completed the giant walking vegetable set. Big green leaves and a nimble easily breakable stem.

He was….

‘This was the man who wrote that date on the tree isn’t it?’

He saw a familiar equation written on Senku’s outfit.

E=mc2

'Yeah… definitely the science nerd around here.’ Gen chuckled internally, 'Who the hell writes that on their own clothes?!’

When the girl asked Senku what kind of girls he liked Senku simply answered this:

“A kind that would pump a ton of oxygen into my furnace”

Gen groaned internally at that answer

'And he’s uninterested at romance. Like he’s some sort of a Shonen protagonist…’

The blond villager girl whom Gen deduced as quite strong, and possibly the girl that Tsukasa ran into before, even expressed her displeasure at that answer. He wonders if she had some feelings for this Senku person.

The Mentalist admits that Senku is quite handsome. It was a shame to him that he isn’t interested in romance. He would have loved to have gotten closer to him. But he supposed that he still has a job to do.

Well to everyone in the Empire of Might it was his job.

To Gen….

It was some assurance.

If this Senku is what he thought he was, that this Senku is the man that striked fear into Tsukasa’s heart.

This handsome, nerdy, passionate man…

Might be the counter he was looking for.

Better strike while the iron’s hot….

“Ah… this ramen is making me wickedly thirsty…” Gen admitted to himself, out loud for everyone else to hear. “A cola, would be great…”

And with that, Gen had Senku’s undivided attention.

The Mentalist then went to work, fully analyzing this Senku to his heart’s content.

Little that he knew what would happen later that within the past 3700+ years of his life, would change for the better.

'This is worth it…’

#Dr. Stone #Dr Stone #asagiri gen #shishio tsukasa #ishigami senku #fanfic #drst

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 6 years

Text

Damages

This is pure word vomit... TGIF! (expect I work on Sat..)

Angel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, language, fluff if you squint (really hard)

************************************************

The clubhouse brimmed with chatter and exhilaration as the festivities of the evening were in full swing. Very rarely did the Mayans have anything worthy of celebrating but tonight was unique. Tonight, they were all appreciative to be alive and well after their latest run for Miguel Galindo and his fucking cartel.

She could feel the bass seeping through the walls of the auto garage as she sat tucked away within the confines of its small smothering office. Sulking was her new state of mind, sadness strewn into the crease of forehead all the way to her permanent frown.

The world spiraled around her, a cyclone spewing its viscosity alighting like acid just underneath her skin. It was somewhere in these fleeting moments she realized just how important Angel Reyes had become and for that, terror rung through her core. He tasted like every sinfully dark thought she’d ever had; addictive and devastating.

*Flashback*

“Harder..yes, right there Angel. Please don’t fucking stop.”

Their moans muffled into one as the only resonating sound was their skin upon each other. Sweat glistened their bodies acting like adhesive between the frenzied pair. Angel Reyes always did know how to make a girl cum.

“Ahh, you are so tight princesa.” He whispered into the shell of her ear as his hot breath tingled down her neck.

“I’m about to—” Before she could finish her sentence, Angel thrusted entirely into her, igniting the awaiting snap in her belly to ultimately release. Black dots appeared behind her closed lids as she let her orgasm take over, giving herself fully to the man inside and on top of her.

Her orgasm seemed never ending as Angel came moments after her, filling her to the brim. Intermingled heat arose in the room as Y/N felt his weight collapse on top of her while he attempted to calm his heart.

Still deep within her, Angel propped up his elbows by her head and gazed down at the beauty in front of him. He craved these moments of intimacy with Y/N, but in the end, he knew how this would play out; a messy disaster he wasn’t willing to fight for.

Somewhere along their agreement feelings began to shift into unknown territory. Her eyes told a story of affection and admiration that he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize. So, he decided it was easier to play the oblivious fool, undermining the one girl who gave him value in hopes of protecting her.

Finding the strength to disconnect from Y/N, Angel pulled away from her loving touch and sat on the corner of the bed, his head dipped downwards in a defeated stance.

Y/N made her way towards him, pushing her chest to his back as her hands gently hugged his neck. Her knees placed in between his hips; “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or brood tonight?”

Angel reached for her smooth hands encasing theirs together, his confidence hurriedly dwindling. He wasn’t even brave enough to face her officially adding coward to his long list of qualities.

“I have to tell you something and… I don’t want you to hate me.”

Her heart plummeted as worry increased to a new- fangled extreme. Though they never spoke the words aloud, she was solely his, even if they had stupidly labeled it friends with benefits years ago. Angel Reyes created an art form out of hurting her, and he wasn’t about to disappoint.

“You’re so good at letting me down.”

He abruptly turned to face her, their noses just out of reach of brushing one another as he noticed the defiant tears reflected on the surface of her eyes. Unknowingly, disappointment was becoming a long-acquainted nemesis, she often thought it synonymous to somber solace.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love you Y/N, but better to face the facts now... because the longer we put it off, the harder it’ll be.”

“Why now?”

“I met someone.” Her ears perked up at his stutter, confusion written on her face as Y/N tried to process Angel’s stammers. Nobody warns you of the difference between having your heart broken and having your soul destroyed, but to Y/N, it felt earth shatteringly real.

“I—I’m so fucking confused. I’m attracted to her, yet I need you. I feel like I’m at some sort of crossroads. Shit, say something Y/N.”

“What’s her name?”

“Adelita.” His voice barely a whisper knowing full well she would connect the clues to piece together their demented reality.

“So, the truth is that you want one thing and have a secret wish for its opposite? Did you sleep with her?”

“No no, but we kissed, and I felt this electricity that I can’t deny. Lo siento mucho.”

“I see, so you wanted to get one last fuck in before breaking it off, hmm? Real classy Reyes. God damnit, I’m in love with a man who will never put me first and the worst part is I LET YOU.”

He reached towards her to see her surprisingly flinch away from his touch, actuality sinking into his bones.

“This isn’t how I pictured us. Just give me some time to clear my fucking head and for this cartel shit to wrap up. Then we can talk.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore but I’m not ready to say goodbye. We’re constantly in no mans land, but for how much longer Angel? We’ve been doing this dance for five years and I can’t even get you to commit. Why wait?”

Nothing but truth flowed from her lips as Angel contemplated her words.

“I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn’t stand losing and then you walked in my life. Please, just have a little faith in me one last time.”

“I’m terrified she’s going to make you happier than I can.”

For the first time in his life, Angel was speechless, and his doubts were swallowing him whole.

Y/N heaved a sigh, she wanted to say, ‘Don’t leave me’, but all Y/N felt was pain. A lot of pain. For some reason, she tricked herself into imagining how much this wouldn’t hurt. She was inexplicably wrong.

She slid off his bed in search of her clothes scattered around his room unwilling to meet his gaze. Angel observed in pure agony at the hurt radiating off Y/N but stayed soundless. Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free, reluctantly so. Angel had no other choice than to watch her walk away.

*Present*

Whiskey burned her insides as she reveled in its torture. Her mind blurred into one gigantic hurricane before the dizziness overtook her small frame. Control was slipping from her once tightened grasp as the alcohol simmered through her blood, only making Angel her forefront thought.

Y/N desired to move on, to forget, to start with a clean state once more. She wanted to be able to breath again. So, she brought the bottle closer to her lips before engulfing a substantial gulp wallowing in the burn down her throat to the deep depths of her belly.

Suddenly, the blockaded door violently shook against the wall begging for entrance into her seclusion. Ezekiel’s voice floundered through the small gap; “Y/N, please let me in.”

She sluggishly moved towards the door, unsure of the conversation that lay ahead, but Ez was her best friend. She peeked through the crack before removing the chair held again the doorknob, granting him access.

“Come to see the show and pity me?” Wordlessly, Ez firmly pulled her within his reach and caringly into his chest. Her cheek laid against his muscular chest as her whimpers drowned out the cascading tears dampening his shirt.

Ez placed his chin atop her icy blonde hair, clutching her as close as humanly possible. He knew his brother was an asshole, but he never saw Y/N this way before, and it frightened him immensely.

“Of course not. I just didn’t want you to be alone even if you aren’t ready to talk. Sitting with you is peace enough for me.”

“Thank you, E., It’s nice to see a friendly face even if you are his little brother.”

“Can I be honest with you Y/N?”

“Always.”

“Being alone may scare the shit out of you but staying in a bad relationship will irrevocably damage you. You deserve a true equal, just keep that in mind.”

“I’m beginning to believe that for very few times in life, if you are lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws are arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.”

“Deep words young grasshopper. When did you become so wise because I know that’s not my brother’s doing?”

“Finally seeing some much-needed clarity over this whirlwind of a relationship. I’m in so much agony but I’m still standing. I think I forgot what it’s like to be independent, maybe even love myself more than him? I know it sounds ludicrous.”

“Not at all. I’m actually impressed. We’re gonna get through this.”

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, before pulling back to meet his stare lifting the whiskey bottle his direction and offering a drink. Ezekiel gladly accepted as his smile provided a tiny ray of sunshine encircling Y/N’s mindset.

“We all have demons Reyes, I just chose to feed mine. But not anymore.”

-------------

-Requests open-

#Mayans MC #mayans #mayans mc x reader #angel reyes x reader #My writing #angel x reader #mayans mc fx #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angst

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xfangheartx · 6 years

Text

Red Strings- Ch. 2

Ch. 2- Inuyasha’s Lament

Sesshomaru pulled up in front of a gigantic mansion that stood at the top of a flight of stairs, prompting Inuyasha to open the back passenger door and get out. "Don't I get a 'thank you'?" asked Sesshomaru. "Yeah, thanks," Inuyasha said before he muttered "pompous-ass schmuck" under his breath. "I heard that," Sesshomaru said. Before Inuyasha could even open his mouth and retort... "My baby!" "Oh, no..." Inuyasha bemoaned as he turned around, only to nearly be toppled over by a woman that reached up to his chin, wrapping her arms around her. Her hair was so long, she practically dragged it behind her. She was wearing a beautiful dark red velvet dress that reached down to her ankles and she was also wearing a black coat with brown fur trimming around the collar. "OOF!!" Inuyasha cried. "Hi, Mom...!" "Oh, Inuyasha, you're okay!" Izayoi said as she hugged her son. "I was so worried!" She then began to smother his face with kisses. "M-M-Mom! Mom, stop it!" Inuyasha cried. "I-I get it, I love you, too, but come on! Not in front of Sesshomaru! I'm not 5 anymore!!" Sesshomaru smirked while Rin giggled, though she tried to stifle her laughter by covering her mouth. "Thanks, again, Sesshomaru," said Izayoi. "Sorry I interrupted your date." "It's all right," Sesshomaru replied. 'It was worth seeing Inuyasha getting smothered in kisses.'

He then got back into the car, but not before Izayoi looked in through the window. "Bye, Izayoi!" Rin waved. "Bye, Rin," said Izayoi. "Sesshomaru, if you see Satomi, tell her I said hi, won't you?" "Yes, I'll give Mother your regards," Sesshomaru replied as he drove off.

"And as for you, young man," Izayoi said as she grabbed Inuyasha by the ear and dragged him up the stairs, causing him to cry out in pain, "you should know better than to worry your poor mother!" "Ow! M-Mom, ouch! Ow!!" Inuyasha cried. "Let go!! Dammit, I'm 21 years old!!"

"How could you leave so late at night?!" Izayoi asked. "And forget your phone, no less!" "I'm sorry- OW!!" Inuyasha cried. "Mom, that hurts!!" Soon, they were inside, revealing a lavish kitchen with black tile floors that looked so clean, you could eat off of them, and it even came with a bar area that had all sorts of liquor, including premium sake and imported wine. The living room had a 36" plasma screen TV- which, by the way, had a show about a talking sponge- and was set in front of a couch and two extra armchairs with leather upholstery. The sliding door revealed a large pool in the backyard, at least 10 feet wide and 7 feet deep, complete with a diving board. "Don't ever do something like that, Inuyasha Taisho," Izayoi scolded. "From now on, you take your phone with you so that someone can contact you! Do you hear me, young man?!" "Mom, I'm not-" Inuyasha started. "I said 'Do you hear me'?!" Izayoi asked. "...Yes, Mother..." Inuyasha muttered as he planted his rump right on the couch, causing a voice to yelp as he bounced up into the air before landing right back on the cushion. Inuyasha turned to his right to see a little boy of at least 4 or 5 years with red hair that was tied up in a ponytail with a turquoise ribbon. He had on a light blue shirt that had a swirling pattern of greenish-blue flames over the word "FOXFIRE" in dark green letters, as well as a pair of blue shorts. His most prominent features were a pair of golden yellow paws for feet and a bushy tail sticking out of his backside. "Oh, hey, Shippo," Inuyasha greeted as he gently ruffled the boy's hair. "Hi, Inuyasha," Shippo replied. "Welcome home." Shippo was Inuyasha's adopted younger brother. He had been living at Taisho Manor for about a year, now, ever since his father had been murdered by the infamous demon serial killers, the Thunder Brothers, Hiten and Manten. After their arrest, Shippo had nowhere to go and no other known family to turn to, so Izayoi decided to adopt him. At first, it seemed that Inuyasha and Shippo wouldn't get along, but eventually, they grew on each other. As Inuyasha settled onto the couch, he heard a loud bark coming from the hallway followed by the clacking of long claws against the floor, causing the half-demon to smile before he stood up from the couch and pat his chest. Before long, he was jumped upon by a red Akita Inu, who proceeded to smother his face with licks. Thankfully, Inuyasha didn't lose his balance. He just laughed as the dog kissed him while wagging his curly tail. "Hey, Taro!" Inuyasha exclaimed. "I'm happy to see you, too, boy!" Taro barked as he kept licking his master's face. "Dad's mad at you, by the way," Shippo said, causing Inuyasha to sigh as he put the dog down on the floor. "What else is new?" Inuyasha asked while he gave Taro a few strokes on the head. "At least he's still at the fucking office so I don't have to hear it from him." "Hello, son." Inuyasha's eyes went wide and his ears shot straight up before he turned around to see a rather muscular man wearing a police uniform, standing on the third bottom step of the stairs. Just like Inuyasha and Sesshomaru, his hair was as long and white as theirs and he had jagged blue stripes on his cheeks. Strapped to his back was a sword case that held a sword with a pearl in the hilt. "...Hey, what do you know?" Inuyasha asked with a sheepish smile before he glared at Shippo and clenched his fangs. "It's Dad!" Shippo shrugged, not knowing what to say while Taro whimpered and hid under the coffee table, his tail tucked between his legs. "Shippo, go upstairs, please," said Toga, prompting the young fox demon to hop off the couch and head upstairs. "And as for you, Inuyasha, we need to talk." "Toga, not now," Izayoi said as she approached him while handing her son a cup of instant noodles. "Inuyasha's had a rough night and needs some time to relax." "Thanks, Mom," said Inuyasha as he took the cup in his hand and began to eat the noodles before he picked up the remote and flicked the TV onto something else, but then Toga grabbed the remote and clicked the TV off. "Hey!" "Don't you 'hey' me," Toga said before he turned to his wife, "and as for you, Izayoi, don't coddle him because you make things worse." "But Toga-" Izayoi said. "He's a 21-year-old half-demon, living under our roof with no job!" Toga interjected. "You don't gotta rub it in," said Inuyasha as he flicked the TV back on, "and I'm working on the job part, okay?" "What happened to that application I gave you?" asked Izayoi. "You know, the one for WacDaniel's?" "I threw it out," said Inuyasha. "I don't wanna work in a greasy fast food joint. Besides, the burgers aren't that great." Toga grabbed the remote and flicked the TV off, again. "Okay, are you gonna keep doing that?!" Inuyasha questioned. "Yes," Toga began, "because you are going to shut up and listen. This has been going on for too long, Inuyasha. It's bad enough people discriminated against you since the day you came out of your mother, but what do you think people are going to say when they see you now?" "I don't care what people think," Inuyasha said as he turned the TV back on, but Toga promptly shut it back off, again, further irritating him. "You should care!" Toga argued. "Do you know what my friends down at the precinct call you? A lazy deadbeat half-demon who mooches off his parents!" "What are you gonna do?!" Inuyasha asked as he stood up and glared at his father. "You gonna kick me out, like you did to Sesshomaru?!" "That was different!" Toga yelled. "Sesshomaru left of his own free will!" "That's enough!" Izayoi shouted as she got in between them. "Let's not fight...please." "You know something, Dad?" Inuyasha asked. "I don't gotta sit here and take this. I only left last night and got my ass drunk because I wanted to get away from you!" "No," Toga countered. "The reason why you left and got drunk is that you can't get over your dead girlfriend!" "Toga!" Izayoi cried while Inuyasha tensed up. "You said you wouldn't bring that up again!" "...I don't gotta take this shit," Inuyasha cursed as he pushed his way past his father and headed up the stairs. "Inuyasha, I'm telling you this for your own good," Toga said as he glared after his son. "Look...I understand that you loved Kikyo...but you have to move on. It's been three years since her death!" "...Kikyo died because of me," Inuyasha said as he glared at his father. "And I would have saved her sooner if you hadn't been dragging your ass." He then headed up the stairs, and after about 5 seconds, they heard the sound of a slamming door. Toga sighed as he sat down in his chair while Izayoi put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, dearest?" she asked. "...I shouldn't have said that," Toga said. "I just got tired of seeing him act so depressed." "I hate seeing him like that, too," Izayoi said as she sat next to him. "...I just want him to do better, Izayoi," Toga said. "You may think I'm tough on him, but it's only because we can't keep treating him like a child." "...I know," Izayoi said, sadly, "but every time I see him looking so forlorn, I just can't help it. I want to show him he can still lean on his mother for support." "There's a fine line between support and coddling, Izayoi," said Toga. "And...I understand how he feels. He finally had someone who loved him and he loved in return...but then..." He then sighed while Izayoi rubbed his shoulders. "I just pray that one day, our son finds some form of happiness, again," Izayoi said. "That's all I could ever want." "...Me, too," Toga agreed. XXX Inuyasha lied in his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. The walls were plastered with Aerosmith posters and ACDC. He had a PlayStation 4 hooked up to a 24" Samsung TV and dirty clothes littered the floor. "...They want me to be happy, huh?" he mused as he glanced over at the vent. "Sometimes, I wonder..." Just then, he heard his phone vibrate, causing him to pick it up from his nightstand and swipe his finger on the screen. NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM MIROKU: "Hey, it's me. U didn't pick up last night. R U OK?"

Inuyasha sighed before he began to tap on the keypad. INUYASHA: "I went to the bar last night. Forgot my phone. Had 2 much 2 drink. Just got home a while ago. My jerkass brother dropped me off."

There was a brief pause before the phone vibrated again. MIROKU: "Where were u last night?"

INUYASHA: "Some girl's place."

MIROKU: "A girl, huh?" ;)

INUYASHA: "Don't get any ideas, perv. I don't even know her. Besides, I'm not gonna see her again."

MIROKU: "If U say so. So what R U doing l8r?"

INUYASHA: "I dunno. Maybe take Taro 4 a walk, later."

MIROKU: "Do U want me to come over?"

INUYASHA: "No thx. I'm good."

MIROKU: "Call me if U need me."

INUYASHA: "Whatever."

With that, he clicked off his phone and put it back on the nightstand and rested his hand on his stomach...but as he looked down at his finger, he saw that same red string, again. 'What the hell is this thing?'

#inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #izayoi #sesshomaru

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i-am-your-dragon · 6 years

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Its time to meet the King of the dragons: Bio Roark

Human form:

Popsugar

Dragon form:

mywishlist.ru

Name: Roark

Species: Dragon

Age: over 600 years old

Gender: male

Sexuality: Straight

Looks: Roark is a 6'0"tall over 600 years old dragon.

In his human form he is a bald muscular man around 50 with wide shoulders, six-pack(Face claim is Bruce Willis) His eyes are bluish green with brown spot in his right eye, his nose is straight, his face masculin and his lips full. He clad his body in suits red, black sometimes grey without a fly or tie. His only jewelries are three massive golden rings with his kingdom sign and a ring with a drop of the a lock of his queen in it a gift to his 500 birthday.

His dragon form has three heads, three personalities, one is calm and polite it has ocean blue eyes, one is wild and rough one eyes dark golden and one is neutral and the leader of both deciding wich head to listen to has green eyes. Kinda like Angel and Devil on shoulder.

Scars: He has many scars from many battles with humans and other enemies. The worst is decorating his back after he was struck by lightning as child thought.

Clothing: Like said above he is wearing mostly suits and casual clothes like button up shirts, shirts and mostly long pants.

Weapons: He fights with one sword a gigantic one because if he fights he fights in his dragon form. Not that his human form is any weaker but he likes to scare his enemies with his gigantic sword and dragon form.

Personality: Roark is a strongwilled fair and calm ruler. He who would do all for his family and folk. He loves children and is popular with the kids on his island. Beside his age he is still a modern man and likes the inventions of humans. Even thought he rarelly leaves his castel to see them for himself because he need to keep an eye on his folk.

Relationships: He only fell in love once with his queen and had two daughters and three sons with her. Sadly the queen and princesses died on the virus who is killing the female dragons.

Thats why he is forced as the young male of his folks including his sons to search for a bride in his case a queen to safe his race.

Likes: -Roark likes fruits he has a weakness for sweet fruits like strawberries.

-He is satisfied when his folk is happy and trys his best to please them.

He loved his queen over all and his daughters and visits their graves every day.

-He likes to go climb the mountains on his island, it keeps his body beside the training with his much younger royal gards healthy.

-He is a romantic deep hidden inside and enjoyed to go on walks under the starlight with his queen or have picnicks under the moonlight.

He loves children and is a protective, strict big teddy bear father.

-Roark loves music and sometimes sings with his folks at little festivals. His voice is and and raspy voice makes the female dragons falling in love with him.

-He prefers baths over showers mostly using them at the evening to relax and think over the day.

Dislikes:

-The king of dragons dislikes lies! Honesty is important for him even if the truth could be rough. He would never lie.

-In many battles he surivived he took lifes but he hates to kill and only does it if there is no other way.

-Roark hates hunters and he knew they are still out there trying to find his folk.

-He dislikes any violence against woman and childrend punishes it mercyless.

-He cant stand it if someeone calls him old king. He does not feel old and always tells them to wait until he is over 1000. He does not planning to die anytime soon.

-Roark hates traitors and knows no mercy for them. Traitors are in his eyes are dragons who hurt humans who didnt started the battle. Killing out of hate who is sadly still living within the hearts of many of his people.

-Hurt one of his children thats how he sees his folk and you will feel his wrath. Mercyless he will hunt you down no mattr where you hide he will find you and take revenge for his child.

Background Story:

Roark was born over 600 years ago by Queen Regina as the youngest son of King Seoras. His older brother Neacal who was born to become king over the kingdom sadly was killed by dragon hunter as Roark turned 2 years. To soon his childhood ended four years later as his father left their kingdom for war. His days where endlessly filled with many lessons and hard training to make a strong king out of him. Only his mother took care of it that he sometimes could be a child and took him out on walks through his kingdom to be closer with the folks and learn from them as well. With eight years old he was almost killed by lighting striking him as he run away from the castle after a fight with his teacher. To his luck and all of his folks, he could be saved but a scar where the lightning hit him was decorating now his back. The young dragon king met his queen Rhiannon as teen when he was sixteen. She was one of the lady’s daughters who where friends with his mother. He just saw her and knew she was it. But she had eyes for another dragon at that time. That didn’t stop Roark to fight for her heart. First he tried to impress her with this title and spoiled her with gifts. But soon he realized the red haired beauty was not touched the slightest by it. Only as he showed her his true wild, kind hearted self he managed to win her over and after his father return he asked for the blessing by his and her parents. Three years later he married her and was pulled in to his first battle. He disappeared for one and a half year missing the birth of his first son prince Alasdair. In the war he lost many of his loyal men. It hardened him and almost filled his whole heart with hate. Only his queen Rhiannon could save him from it by introduccing to him his son Alasdair and only two years later making him the gift of twin boys Keane and Seoras. He soon began to teach them how to read, to fight and climb. His three boys are his pride. Alsadair is more like his mother while the twins come after their father. As the war with the humans became worse the dragons made horrible decision what still haunts Roark until this days. They find out that a human bride who was burn to ashes while giving birth made the dragons become stronger.

But the horrible act made the humans fight back with wizards and witches. Making Roarks father their traitor through mind control spell. His father and he had to fight but it ended as the father broke out of the spell and attacked the hunters. King Seoras found it end through their hands as many dragons.

Arman a dragon who kept his bride alive showed the dragons too late that human and dragon could live in happiness together. This made now King Roark decide to save the rest of his folks by calling one of the first dragons for help through a old wind ritual, after all was said that the soul of a dragon became one of the many colors fo the sky and can be seen carried by the wind. The dragon appeared in his dreams that night and showed him a island made grown on his bones and told him old forgotten words of a spell to hide this island from humans and any other beings. After he woke up in the deepest night he ordered his folk to build ships. He worked side by side with them driven by the hope in a better future for his kind. From over 40 big ships only 34 arrived safely at the island. Where Roark immedatly put on the spell like the old dragon told him letting his kind disappear for the rest of the world. Many, many years later the queen gave birth to his two daughters: Jovia, and Junia. The kingdom was blessed the folk started to grew more and more. But the king didnt liked how they where cut out from the rest of the world and decided to send young brave dragons out from time to time to visit the human world and keep an eye on them. Soon he danced on the weddings of his twins and after them his oldest son finally find his mate. It made the much older dragon King happy to see his family grow and his folk with them. Roark also decided to give festival every year for the many human brides who where killed so horribly by his kind. It was build a statue of the last bride who was killed in such a way and beg their forgiveness with flowers, salty pastery as symbol for the tears and red wine for the blood that flown. Sad songs will be carried through the whole island on this day. Also to remember how they forced the human to give away their beautiful virgins they have a special wedding ritual the dragon man is waiting on the island while the bride with her family is on a ship prepared clad in her white dress traditional jewelry. She is put in to boat to lay down and sing a song. An old song who humans sang to call the dragon in to their village to take away his bride. The bride and her family will sing it and the dragon male will take her with the boat in his dragon from to the island there they will be awaited by the priest. Roarks kingdom was growing through the inventations his spions brought to it and it seemed like he really brought his kind in to the perfect paradise... Sadly a few years ago a horrible virus started to take away the female dragons lifes. His heart broke as his queen and daughters fell to the virus. He himself carried them alone in his dragon form to their family grave to put them to rest beside his mother. Who was one of the first dragon women who fell to this horrible invisible death. As he saw the hate growing inside his young dragon men and his sons hearts, the dragon king decided to send them out in the world to find their happiness and see the human world for themselves. He gave them three months to find a bride or the cure for the virus.

But after almost the end of the third month he grew tired of waiting and decided to visit the human world himself.

To may find some help for his kind and a new queen.

#oc roark #face claim bruce willis #bio still working on it #pics google search

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betweensceneswriter · 7 years

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Imagine Amy-Episode 2: Coitus Interruptus

Premise: Amy is a wife and mother of two teenage boys who suddenly finds herself inhabiting the female characters of the TV and movies she watches. Usually she wakes up in the story and the next time she sleeps and awakens, she’s back home again.

Originally chapters from “Stuck in the Classics” on AO3, I’m reworking this for the Outlander crowd, focusing on the ridiculous chapters that feature Jamie Fraser.

Previously on Imagine Amy

I awakened to faint light through my eyelids and the comforting sensation of a warm body mirroring my shape in the bed behind me, hot breath seeping through my hair to my scalp.

“That's nice,” I thought sleepily. “Jeff’s cuddling me.”

The soft, raspy snore behind me gave me permission to sleep longer. I burrowed down under the covers, pressing my body backwards towards his, feeling the warm weight of his muscular arm over my hip. I could feel his hand cupped casually around my right breast, like a toddler sleeping in bed, his stuffed animal securely tucked under his arm.

Cupped around my bare breast, I realized. Wait, I slept naked last night? In an instant, my eyes flew open to see dark brown wooden walls. I gasped, feeling like I couldn’t get enough air. Green plaid blanket. Brown and blue plaid tartan wrapped up over my shoulders. I gingerly lifted the covers and saw a muscular forearm covered with soft copper hair draped over my torso.

By now my heart was pounding. I lifted the blanket further, and looking down, saw a slender body and gently curving breasts

Heavenly Lord, I’m Claire, and I’m still in bed with Jamie Fraser, I thought.

The rib cage behind me expanded with a deep sighing breath, and the big form stirred, followed by kilt-covered hips rotating toward me with a gentle pressure. Why, good morning to you, too, I thought, my breath coming fast and shallow.

“Latha math, mo nighean donn,” he murmured into my hair, and then pushed himself up on one arm and translated helpfully, “Good morning, my brown-haired lass.” His voice rumbled with morning newness, as he swept back my mass of curls with a gentle hand and pressed his lips to my neck.

He then leaned his forehead on my shoulder.

“I dinna expect I shall have to beg your forgiveness every day,” Jamie said softly, his voice muffled from his position behind my back, “But we are one flesh now, and I would not have ye holding bitterness in your heart.”

“Bitterness? For what?” I asked.

“For having to whip yourself,” he said. “Ye shouldna have had to do it.”

“Maybe not,” I said quietly. “But I knew I couldn't bear having you beat me. To have such a thing between us? We are only newly married. I can’t imagine overcoming that resentment easily.”

“So ye arna angry wi’ me?” Jamie asked.

“Jamie,” I said, rolling on my back toward him and turning my face so I could meet his eyes. “You were doing your duty to your men. For them to respect you, and forgive me, there was no other option.”

The young face was so earnest, so concerned, I couldn’t keep from reaching my hand up to his cheek, and lifting my face up to meet his lips in a kiss.

“Do ye still want me, Sassenach?” he asked, barely able to meet my gaze. “I could understand if ye wanted to live apart.”

Surprised by the apparent script change, I sat fully upright in the bed, then pulled the covers around my shoulders when I again realized that I was completely nude. As I did, his eyes adorably darted downwards, and his face flooded with raw longing.

We were apparently moving several days forward in our relationship, but there were moments I was loathe to miss. I held back my eagerness to respond, and looked him seriously in the eyes.

“I feel like I should hate you,” I said. It was all I could do to keep from falling apart at the crestfallen devastation in his blue eyes. I gently raised my right hand to his heart, with a surge of pleasure at seeing the rough silver ring on my slender finger. “But I don’t,” I concluded.

He grabbed my hand with his, bent my fingers, and kissed the ring. “The key...to Lallybroch,” he said, holding my hand tight to his chest, a smile of pleasure on his face.

“What?” I asked in confusion, as if I didn’t already know.

“Yer ring,” he responded. “I had it made from my key to Lallybroch. So when we go there, you would know it was as much yours as mine.”

“Oh, Jamie,” I sighed.

“Though I’m no sure now when that time will come,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” I said, compassionately shaking my head.

“That thought doesna grieve me as much as it once did,” he said, looking at me with tender eyes. “You are my home now.”

I nearly ached at his admission. “Oh, Jamie,” I breathed.

I was pretty sure the adoration in my eyes was a good approximation of Claire’s. I reached behind his neck and pulled his face towards mine to kiss him. His lips were warm and gentle, parting slightly under the pressure. At the touch of my tongue, I felt him jerk as if a lightning bolt had passed through him; I was feeling the electricity as well.

“Claire,” he said, moving closer to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me desperately to him as if he couldn’t bear to be apart any longer. His lips and tongue traveled down my neck until I felt like I was going to melt from spontaneous combustion.

“I want you so badly, I can scarce breathe,” he whispered huskily. “Will you have me, Sassenach?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Yes, I’ll have you. I have never wanted anyone more in my life. . .”

He pulled away from me momentarily, the stunned look in his eyes acknowledging the depth of his reaction to my words. Ah, yes, I realized, I just unwittingly parroted his secret reason for marrying Claire.

And then we were frantically undressing each other. Throwing off the blanket took a second. I didn’t have anything else to remove, so I benevolently helped Jamie exit his clothing as well. (At great personal sacrifice, of course!) The broad muscular chest deserved a few moments of tactile worship—so firm, so contoured, thatched with wiry auburn hairs. His well-defined abdominal muscles drew my fingers as well, but he erupted in a fit of adorable giggles, noises that no self-respecting man should make, so I moved on to work at his belt. Jamie stood up to kick off his boots which he’d worn all night, then took over my feeble attempts at his belt.

When he’d ripped off his kilt, he stood there a moment, godlike, a halo of glowing copper and gold surrounding his body as the rising sun shone through the window behind him. “Oh, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser,” I gushed. “Come here.”

Jamie took one slow step toward me, and then the door to our room crashed open with tremendous force.

“Ye’ve missed breakfast,” growled Dougal, his eyes looking past Jamie’s bare backside to me on the bed. I lunged desperately for the blanket, pulling it up to cover my heaving chest. A large dose of adrenalin added onto whatever hormones were already surging through my system had me feeling like I would pass out if someone touched me.

“Do ye think ye can ride, lass?” Dougal asked, raising one eyebrow lecherously. “Jamie didna overdo it with your hiding, did he?”

“A skelped ass never did hurt anyone,”came a voice from the hallway. I couldn’t help myself but smile at Murtagh’s familiar acerbic tone.

Someone else passed in the other direction, and I thought I saw Ned’s gray hair tied back in a neat ponytail. “I’ve got an extra blanket, lass. You can pad your saddle,” he called out, his kind voice confirming my hypothesis.

Jamie crouched down and reached for his kilt with his back toward the door, the evidence of the level of pain he’d be experiencing from our coitus interruptus apparent on his face as well as his body.

“Close the door!” he yelled gruffly. I think it was Rupert, or possibly Angus, who finally obeyed him, though not without peering eagerly in to see if he’d get a peek at me naked.

When the door slammed shut, our eyes met and expressed the disappointment and desire we both felt. Finally Jamie strode forward, planted an enthusiastic kiss on my shoulder (with tongue), and met my eyes impishly. “All the more to look forward to when we get to Leoch,” he said, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

He’d already dressed and was buttoning up his vest when he came back to where I was, standing bewilderedly in front of the mass of skirts and petticoats and huge hip pads and the corset and stomacher on the bed.

“I only know how to take those off,” he joked, patting me on the backside.

“Very funny,” I said. “It’s just, Mrs. Fitz or one of the maids has always helped me dress.”

“Ah, lass,” said Jamie. “We must hurry. Here, let me.” With deft fingers, he tied everything I stepped into or pulled over my head, until I felt sufficiently straight-jacketed into the rigid bodice and gigantic skirts.

“I think next time, I’m watching The Blue Lagoon,” I quipped, as I swept my hair up into a high ponytail and then wound it into a bun. “People in 18th century Scotland wear entirely too many clothes!”

“I agree,” said Jamie, nipping my neck under my ear and sending shivers up my spine, then striding around the room to make sure he had packed everything. “Though I dinna know where this ‘Blue Lagoon’ is. Is that in the West Indies, Sassenach?”

He met my eyes and said, quite seriously, “When we get back to Leoch, I’m hiding all your clothes and will have the maids bring us food for the next week. I intend to take ye to bed at least four times…a day.”

His husky threat gave me uncontrollable shivers. “Aye, Sassenach,” he said, grinning deviously. “I mean to make ye burn for me like I’m burnin’ now.” He dealt with the aftereffects of his arousal as he adjusted the lay of his dirk and kilt, stomped with his boot a few times, then walked back to the table and buckled his belt.

“Is something under your kilt bothering you, Jamie?” I asked empathetically.

Jamie shook his head at me with narrowed eyes. He didn’t break eye contact as he picked up his sword and slowly sheathed it in its scabbard, with an obscene grunt as he shoved it in the final inch. My body’s reaction was strangely visceral. I jerked as if I’d just been impaled. A slow smile spread on his face as Jamie realized the power he had over me.

“Neither of us would make good monks,” I said, shaking my head. I added the last of my belongings to the sheepskin bedroll that served as both sleeping bag and suitcase when we were traveling to collect the rents.

“Are ye sure ye’re a good Catholic, Sassenach?” Jamie asked me. “Women aren’t monks, they’re nuns.”

“Not me,” I responded. Jamie grabbed me about the waist for one final, desperate kiss before we headed downstairs to the waiting horses. I squirmed uncomfortably. Man, I could use some panties right now, I thought. What was it with these Scotlanders and their fear of undergarments?

As the men loaded up our gear and tied everything securely onto the cart and horses, I experienced a faint hint of panic. Up to the present, I’d shown up in stories where I walked in gardens, did needlepoint in parlors, attended balls, and rode in carriages. Riding horses had never been a talent of mine, and I blanched at the thought of accidentally pulling Jamie off the horse with me and getting trampled by the others and their mounts.

When I’d finally been given a leg up in front of Jamie, though, I wondered what I’d worried about. He was so solid, so broad, with his muscular legs behind mine, his chest at my back, and his strong arms on either side of me. It was like, I decided, riding in an infant car seat. Even his arm around my midsection, when we reached steep sections in the trail, provided as much security as a seat belt.

I had begun to relax and lean back against Jamie’s chest when I began to think. Why was I still here? I’d never stayed overnight before.

Every other time I would wake up in, or simply become aware of being in, a place that was not my home. Not Oregon, not the United States, not 2017. It was always a movie, a miniseries, or a television show. I would inhabit another person’s life and body: sometimes the main character, sometimes someone else. But always a character who had emotional or romantic entanglements.

I would live through the remainder of their day, a story I’d seen played out on a screen countless times. Sometimes I would stay close to the script, and sometimes I would throw caution to the wind and veer wildly off track (I sighed as I thought fondly of Henry Tilney).

Though I inhabited the younger bodies of my characters, I brought my 45 year old self into my experiences. My brash, brave, sensual, transparent self, too mature for game playing, too eager to be coy, too honest to fake what I did not feel.

But here I was, on a second day, riding with Jamie Fraser. How had I managed this?

We hadn’t had sex last night, I thought. But that wasn’t the first time one of my trips didn’t end in over-the-top passion. There were plenty of others that I had only made out with. Mr. Bingley, Edward Ferrars. Or maybe it was that it was already nearly bedtime when I arrived. Maybe there was a minimum time period I had to be in a place.

Maybe it was just that Jamie Fraser was such a magnetic force, I couldn’t let go of him yet.

However, I thought, as we bumped along the road, Jamie obviously lost in thoughts of his own behind me, there are no guarantees. I could feel my head becoming heavy, could feel my eyelids drooping. I tried to shake myself awake, but realized it was inevitable. It had been a late night and an early morning, and there were many monotonous miles ahead of us. I knew it in my heart, and I recognized, with a surprising amount of sadness, that if I fell asleep this might be the end of my time with Jamie.

I sighed audibly, and Jamie instinctively pulled me tighter to him.

“Ye all right, Sassenach?” he asked me.

“I will be,” I said, willing the tears that were filling my eyes to stop. It didn’t work, and a few tears dripped onto his arm. He leaned forward, trying to see my face.

“A gradh,” he murmured. “Dinna fash.” Oh my goodness, Gaelic. It distracted me from my emotions for a second, as I tried to remember what the words meant. A gradh? What did that mean? Wasn’t it “love”, or “my love?” I was quite certain that dinna fash meant “don’t worry.”

“Can we stop? Just for a moment?” I asked. Jamie didn’t answer, but pulled me tighter and sat more erect behind me.

“Dougal!” He called out. “Dougal!” When his uncle responded by pausing, Jamie rattled off a bunch of Gaelic phrases. Dougal shouted back, apparently irritated but agreeing, nonetheless. Jamie pulled the reins to one side and the other horses eased by us on the path. When Angus, who took up the rear of the group, had gone by, Jamie swung his legs off, then reached up to grasp me by the waist and helped me off as well.

He turned me toward him, and seeing the tear tracks down my face, looked at me compassionately. “Lass?” he said. He pulled me to his chest and held me there, where I could hear his heart beating steadily.

“I’m afraid, but I can’t explain it,” I quavered. “You’re real. You’re here. I’m here. I can hear your heart beating in your chest. But if I fall asleep, this will all go away. I’m not ready, Jamie. We. . .we haven’t made love yet!”

Jamie chuckled ruefully. “Aye, Sassenach,” he said. “I had fearful dreams last night, too. Where I came to Captain Randall’s window and ye were but a skeleton. And when I took ye in my arms, you crumbled to dust and blew away.”

I met his eyes, and saw a raw hollowness there. Jamie gripped my arms tighter. “I know I made light of it, Lass, but I need to be one with you, too. I need to feel yer warmth around me. I need you closer than any other. I need to possess ye. But Sassenach, the trail is no place for it." He looked around at the wet earthen road, the sodden peat moss, the puddles and ponds in the distance. "Not here. And not with wee Angus and Rupert ‘round the corner. Not with Ned and Dougal wi’in earshot.”

He hugged me to him. “Leoch is just a few miles away. And I promise. I will take ye in my arms when we get there, and I willna let ye go.”

I took one long last look at his face, tracing the faint scars on his right cheek, “Aye, me and Ian Murray were trouble makers as lads,” he said with a smile and a small shake of his head. I ran my thumb over his lips, and looked into his clear blue eyes. Finally, I kissed him gently.

“Bidh gaol agam ort fad mo bheatha, thusa 's gun duine eile,” he said. At the confused look in my eyes, he leaned forward to press his lips on mine. “I will love you my whole life, Sassenach,” he said. “You, and none other.”

He offered me a hand up once he had mounted our horse, and we galloped on, across the Highlands, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open another instant, and I knew nothing more.

On to Part 3

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