#and the ugly green jacket rises again

[tuttle-4077]

Damaged Goods

I... generally don't like romance. I don't generally read it or write it. But dear @annieslytherpuff21 requested this story, so I shall deliver... but I'm not sure I will post it on FFN. It's too... romance-y.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Carter yawned as he shucked off his heavy wool coat and hung it up. Straightening his suit jacket, he made his way into the teachers’ lounge and headed for the coffee pot.

“Morning, Sunshine!” Joe Curtis chirped from the table where he sat, reading his paper. “Late night?”

“Yeah,” Carter said over his shoulder as he poured himself a mug of what was sure to be terrible coffee. Nothing a little— or a lot— of cream and sugar wouldn’t help.

“Tsk. Shame on you, Andy. Don’t you know the old saying, ‘early to bed, early to rise’?” Joe asked.

“Oh sure. But I was in the middle of doing repairs to that house I bought and I lost track of time. It was past midnight before I even bothered to check my watch!” He took his coffee and joined Joe at the table.

“That’s home ownership for you,” Joe replied. “You either fix things yourself or pay someone else through the nose to do it for you.”

“Guess so,” Carter said. He sipped his coffee and frowned. Not even cream and sugar had fixed it. “Yech. I had better coffee as a prisoner.”

Joe laughed. “You’re a teacher now; it’s almost the same thing!”

“Now, Joe,” Mable Perkins scolded as she approached. “You love teaching!”

“I do, I do,” Joe conceded.

Mable smiled and sat next to Joe. “So your house is coming along then, Andy?”

“Yes ma’am,” Carter nodded. “I gotta put a fresh coat of paint on it and a few other things and then I think it’ll do just fine.”

“Good for you,” Mable said with a smile.

“I remember when I bought my house,” Joe said. “Me and Lisa were already married and we were renting this little suite from a nice old couple. Say, Mable, you know the Wilkinsons, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well, they rented to us pretty cheap so long as I was willing to cut the grass and—”

Carter tuned Joe out because, at that moment, Lucy Morgan walked into the room. Everything else faded away, lost in her aura. He was mesmerized by her dark curly hair, long lashes that framed brown eyes, and perfect red lips.

Immediately, he stood up and raced over to help her out of her winter coat.

“Morning,” he greeted.

“Morning,” she said. She looked around and then gave him a quick kiss. Carter felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he reveled in the simple yet intoxicating act.

He must’ve been frozen in place because he heard Lucy giggle and then suddenly she was no longer in front of him. He whipped his head around to find her pouring herself a cup of coffee. From the corner of his eye, he saw Joe and Mable exchanging sly looks.

“Told you,” he heard Joe murmur.

Carter couldn’t stop his cheeks from going hot. Though he had met Lucy earlier, Joe had made a point of bringing her and Carter together at a Christmas party about two months ago. Overcoming his initial hesitancy, Carter had asked Lucy out for coffee. They had seen each other outside of work at least three times a week since then. She had even invited him to her father’s New Year’s party. That was where she first kissed him. If Carter hadn’t been hooked before (and he very much was), that kiss sealed his fate.

“Uh…” Carter’s brain turned back on. He raced Lucy to the table and pulled out a chair for her. She thanked him and sat down. Carter sat next to her and rested his cheek on his fist, watching her as he again became lost. She rested her chin on the back of her hand and looked back at him, a delicate blush colouring her cheeks.

“Twitterpated,” Mable mock whispered to Joe.

“Both of them,” Joe whispered back. “So!” he continued loudly. “I heard aliens landed in Fargo.”

“Really? I heard they were dinosaurs who crawled out of the earth!” Mable said.

“No, aliens. Big ugly green ones that… Huh. Say, this is serious, Mable.”

Carter barely registered what the two other teachers were saying. It wasn’t until someone cut between him and Lucy, leaning on the table with his back towards Carter, that he snapped out of his love-induced haze.

“Hi, Lucy,” Tony Davis greeted.

“Oh… hello Tony,” Lucy replied.

“Say, I was thinking of catching a movie tonight. Wanna join me?”

“No thank you. Andy and I are having dinner.”

“Andy? Who?” Tony straightened and turned. “Oh right. Sergeant Carter.” He clapped Carter roughly on the shoulder and then squeezed tightly. “Everyone’s favorite new chemistry teacher.”

“Actually, Andy was a Lieutenant,” Lucy said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear about that crazy SNAFU with his rank?” Joe said. “Boy, I tell you, that army bureaucracy can never be accused of having any brains!”

“I can’t argue with that,” Tony said. He gave Carter’s shoulder another squeeze before letting go. Then he grabbed Carter’s coffee and moved around to sit on the other side of Lucy. “I tell you, there were times when I forgot who the real enemy was. But then I’d get in my plane and go up against a bunch of Japs and that set everything right again. Say, did I ever tell you about the time that I saw one of them Japs bail out and then get eaten by sharks?”

“Oh, Tony, please, how gruesome,” Mable said, appalled.

“I heard that one,” Joe said. “You really have some great stories, Tony.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re actually fighting. You don’t get a lot of great stories from being a prisoner, huh, Andy?”

Carter shrugged. “Nothing that would interest you.” He checked his watch. “Say, we all better get to class.” He stood and gave Lucy a kiss. “See you for lunch?”

“Always.”

Carter grinned. If he was a smug sort of person, he would have shot Tony a triumphant glare, but, as it was, Carter didn’t pay him any attention. He took Lucy’s hand and gave it a small squeeze before heading out of the room.

Kids were already starting to fill the halls, talking loudly to each other. A few said ‘good morning’ to him as he passed.

As he approached his classroom, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. He tilted his head. It was supposed to be locked. Maybe the janitor had forgotten to close it back up. Deciding that was it, Carter pushed open the door.

Two boy, hovering over something at a table, immediately straightened and turned to face him, hiding whatever they were working on.

“Gentlemen,” Carter greeted, an unasked question in his tone.

“Er, hey, Mr. Carter,” Bobby Bucks said sheepishly. “You’re early.”

“No, but you are. What you got there?”

Bobby and his companion, Dale Stuart, exchanged a panicked look. “Errr, ummm…”

“You know you ought to be wearing safety gear before you muck around with anything,” Carter said nonchalantly. “First rule of experimenting.” He couldn’t really get mad at them for sneaking in to experiment. After all, he had done the same thing when he was in school. But, on the other hand, he had always been good at chemistry. Bobby and Dale? Not so much.

“So what are you cooking up?” Carter asked. He grabbed a couple of lab coats off from their hooks.

Again, the boys exchanged a look, but they seemed relieved when they turned their attention back to Carter. “Dale here read about stink bombs and we thought…”

Carter laughed. “You thought you’d have some fun. All right. Tell me about your process.” He handed over the lab coats. “Goggles. Gloves.”

Both boys reached into the table drawer to pull out the objects. “Well, we mixed a little bit of this and a little bit of that,” Dale said. He moved to show Carter a nearly full beaker. Carter’s heart immediately stopped. The contents were bubbling angrily.

“A little bit of this and that? This and that what?” He noticed several bottles on the table and quickly catalogued them. Whatever they were making was definitely not a stink bomb.

“Um… well I don’t remember exactly… just anything that smelled nasty!”

“But this is the last ingredient! It smells the worst!” Bobby said, grabbing a graduated cylinder of something.

“Okay, don’t—”

Before he could get his words out, Bobby poured the contents into the beaker. Almost instantly, the concoction spewed out of the beaker, flying everywhere.

They all cried out in surprise as the brew splattered on them. They shielded themselves the best they could from the onslaught. It fizzled and popped and then everything was still. Slowly, Carter straightened and looked around. Their experiment was all over.

“Are you boys all right?”

Both boys looked around. “Uh, yeah, I—”

“ARG! Mr. Carter, my hand is burning!” Dale cried.

“Sink. Now.” Carter could feel some burning on his skin, too. Together they rushed over to the sink to rinse off. Carter turned on the water and they crowded around, rinsing off their hands and arms. “Did it get in your eyes?” Bobby had poured before any of them had put on their equipment.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Me too.”

“Wait! It’s burning through my jacket!” Dale cried. “My back!”

“Take it off!” Carter tore off his own suit jacket and noticed a couple of holes. “Okay, showers. Now!” There was too much to rinse off in their relatively small sink. Not for the first time, Carter cursed the fact there wasn’t an emergency shower station in his lab.

Together they burst out of the room and towards the gymnasium. “Out of the way, out of the way,” Carter barked to the kids in the hall. Surprised by their mild-mannered teacher’s tone, kids quickly pressed themselves against their lockers, clearing a path for them.

They flew into the change room, interrupting the boys who were getting ready for their morning gym class. They rushed to the showers, turned them on and stood under them, rinsing off.

“Are we good?” Dale asked.

“Fifteen minutes,” Carter replied.

“Aw, but we’re going to be late for class!” Bobby whined. Carter shot him a dangerous look and he immediately stiffened and shut his mouth.

“Strip,” Carter ordered, feeling the chemical burn under his clothes.

“Slacks, too?” Dale asked.

“Yep. Everything.”

“This is humiliating,” Bobby said.

“This is what happens when you mix random chemicals together!” Carter snapped as unbuttoned his shirt. “For Pete sakes! For a stink bomb, all you need is ammonium sulfide, vinegar, and bicarbonate! I thought you said you read about it!”

“We did! We read about stink bombs and thought it would be a good idea to make one. But we didn’t read how.”

Carter covered his eyes with his hand and squeezed the sides of his face. “You two are going to be in detention for a long time,” he growled. He didn’t care if it took the rest of the school year, he would drill safety protocols into their heads until it sank in.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Carter,” Dale said as he peeled off his clothes.

“Me too,” Bobby mumbled, looking down in shame.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Carter said. “Let’s just focus on rinsing this stuff off.” They turned away from each other as they finished undressing. The bell rang, signalling the start to class. They remained under the water, rinsing off in silence.

“Hey, what’s going on in here, fellas?” Carter heard Tony bark from the main room. “You lot were supposed to be out on the court five minutes ago. Hey, who’s showering back there? Get on the— Holy shit!”

“Chemistry accident,” Carter explained, not bothering to open his eyes as the water rained down on him. “We’ll have to borrow some gym uniforms for the—”

“What the hell happened to you?” Tony asked.

“I told you, we had a—”

“Mr. Carter!” Bobby exclaimed. Carter looked over his shoulder and saw Bobby’s eyes wide with horror.

“What?”

“Geez! I’m gonna be sick,” Dale said.

“What?! Did you ingest any of that stuff? Sit down and let me—”

“Mr. Carter, your back!” Bobby said, pointing.

“Your… everything,” Dale said in disbelief.

It suddenly clicked.

“Oh.”

“Geez, Andy, what the hell?!” Tony said as he gestured to him. “Someone put you through a meat grinder?”

“I was… shot down… remember?” Carter said, knowing that excuse could never explain away even a portion of the scars that marred his body. He managed a small, nervous chuckle. “War is hell, right?”

Tony blinked, looking overwhelmed by the sight. Then he snorted. “Just get dressed. You’re going to give me nightmares.” And with that, the gym teacher turned on his heel and marched off.

Carter and the boys continued to rinse off in awkward silence. Carter tried to ignore the fact that they were zeroed in on his scars with wide, disbelieving eyes. He unconsciously rested his hand over his left shoulder where the worst of the scarring was.

“Fifteen minutes,” Carter announced, trying to keep his voice even. “Let’s dry off and we’ll see if your ‘stink bomb’ caused any permanent damage.”

Even if the chemicals had no lasting physical effects, he knew that the incident had permanently changed something that might not easily be repaired.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Carter looked ridiculous. The lab coat he wore clashed terribly with the t-shirt and red shorts– with their ‘Prairie Breezes’ emblem– that he had borrowed from the gym closet. But he felt terribly exposed without the coat on. He wanted to hide himself as much as he could.

Word of the morning incident had quickly spread throughout the school. Principal Hanson had already chewed him out and Carter had spent nearly an hour talking him down.

It was lucky neither he nor the boys had been seriously injured. After going over the chemicals the boys had used and pressing them on their exact method, Carter was surprised they had escaped relatively unscathed. He made a note to either change, or add locks to all his cupboards.

Carter padded down the hall in his bare feet— his shoes were near the radiator, drying. He had debated eating his lunch in his classroom, but he had plans to meet Lucy. She had already seen his ridiculous getup when he had reported to Hanson’s office and her only reaction was to ask if he was okay.

As he passed through the halls on his way to the teachers’ lounge, he heard kids whispering. Some even pointed at him as he passed. Carter frowned and shrank into his coat. He swore that the long, jagged scar on his shin shone out like a gaudy neon light, drawing every eye to it.

“Andy!”

Carter stopped and looked over his shoulder to find Lucy popping out of her office. He smiled brightly, but was suddenly hit with a wave of self-consciousness, and his smile faltered.

“Ready for lunch?” Lucy asked as she caught up to him. She looped her arm through his. Carter gave her an affirmative hum. “You sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hurt, right?”

“I’m okay,” he said, trying to smile. He glanced into her eyes before quickly averting his gaze.

“I’m glad.” She rested her head against his arm. Together, the entered the teachers’ lounge. “I made us chicken sandwiches!” she said as she let go of him and headed for the refrigerator.

“Sounds good. I’ll grab the coffee.” He went over to the pot and grabbed two mugs.

“Hey, Frankenstein.”

Carter stiffened.

“Hey, Joe,” Tony said, “did you hear about our friend Frankenstein?”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked.

“You heard, didn’t you Lucy?” Tony said.

“Heard what? Who’s Frankenstein?” Lucy asked, sounding confused.

“Frankenstein, written by Mary Shelley in 1818,” Jill Cunningham, the English teacher, said from over her newspaper. “Many erroneously refer to the monster as Frankenstein, when it’s really the name of the scientist.”

“He’s also in some pretty good movies,” said Del Russell between mouthfuls of food.

“I know who Frankenstein is,” Lucy said, exasperated. “I just don’t know what Tony is talking about.”

“I’m talking about Sergeant Carter, here,” Tony said. “All stitched up like a horrible experiment gone wrong.”

Carter took a breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t let Tony rile him up. That was exactly what that bully wanted. His hand shook as he replaced the coffee pot. He grabbed his and Lucy’s mugs and turned, trying to fix a smile on his lips.

“Tony here saw some of my scars,” Carter said, adopting a light tone. “I picked up a few when I was shot down.”

“A few?!” Tony exclaimed. “Are you kidding? It looks like you were eaten by a shark!”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Mable said coolly.

“I swear I’m not,” Tony replied. “Seriously, you guys have got to see them to believe them! They’ll give you nightmares!”

“That’s enough,” Carter growled, finally losing his temper. He pulled himself up to his full height and took a breath. “Yes, I have a couple of scars. They’re not pretty. But I earned every one of them in war so we’re not going to talk about them. Understood?”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the display, but then smirked. “Whatever you say, Frankie.”

“Come on, Tony,” Joe said warily. “Drop it.”

“I think it’s disgusting that you would make fun of him for his war wounds,” Mable scolded.

Tony just shrugged. “It’s not like I didn’t fight in the war either. But I’ve got medals to show for it.”

Del suddenly jumped up, shaking his sandwich at Tony. “Carter deserves more medals than all of us put together,” he said furiously. “Why if you only knew half the things he—”

“We’re done,” Carter said quickly, cutting Del off before his anger caused him to expose more than they were allowed. “Tony, Mable’s right: you’re being disgusting. And if you want any friends at the end of this conversation, I suggest you drop it. Now.”

Tony stared him down, but Carter stayed firm. Finally Tony shrugged. “Fine. Keep your shirt on. Literally.” The gym teacher grabbed something out of the fridge and sat at a table.

An awkward silence hung over the room. Finally, Carter set the mugs down on the table and pulled out a chair for Lucy. She handed him a chicken sandwich and they ate quietly.

Eventually, the bell rang and everyone packed up. As Carter stood, Lucy grabbed his hand. “See you tonight?”

“Ummm… Actually, you know, I have a lot to do at the house. Repairs, painting. All that. Rain check?”

Lucy frowned. “Andy…”

“I promise, another time,” Carter said, offering her a weak smile.

“Well… okay. Another time.” She stood and went to kiss him, but he turned his head and her lips landed on his cheek.

“I should get going,” Carter said. He retreated, not looking back as he left Lucy behind.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Wearing a towel around his waist with water dripping down from his hair, Carter let out a long sigh as he swiped his arm across the bathroom mirror. Two weeks of nightmares had left him feeling old and worn.

As the fog cleared from the mirror, it reflected back the source of his nightmares. A horrendous network of scars covered his torso, stark reminders of the dangerous work he’d done during the war.

Before Tony’s rude reminder, he had been able to shuffle his memories into the back of his mind. While he couldn’t ignore his scars entirely, they hadn’t bothered him in a long time as they simply became part of him. He had the occasional nightmares, but they had thankfully become fewer and further between as the war continued to move into the past.

But after being exposed, the ensuing terror in his students’ eyes, the quiet whispers, Tony’s jabs, and the gossip that had gone far beyond the walls of the school, all came together to remind him of past terrors. And despite his efforts to forget, he still remembered how he got every single scar. Daily nightmares had come back with a vengeance, making up for lost time. Each had been a swirling mess of jumbled memories and when he slept, the pain of each resurfaced and seemed terribly real.

Carter gently ran a finger over an ugly, firework-shaped scar on his right rib cage— an electrical burn courtesy of Herr Grendel in Bayonne. He knew if he could see his back, he’d find more souvenirs from his time in Bayonne and he shivered at the memories that came into his head.

A small scar on his hip spoke of an encounter with a German patrol and a knife while on a mission outside the wire. The jagged scar on his shin told of a piece of shrapnel from an explosion that went off a minute too early. A dozen of other scars each told their own stories.

The worst of them, though, centered on his left arm and shoulder, creeping onto his chest and extending to his back. A testament to Major Hochstetter’s crazed desperation to finally pin Papa Bear’s identity on Colonel Hogan. The upper part of his bicep, which had borne the brunt of the attack, dimpled where the muscle had been shredded and torn apart. Carter could hear his own screams ringing in his ears, above the growls and frenzied barks of the German shepherd.

Carter gripped the counter tightly as he hung his head, his breath coming out in gasps. He needed to stop thinking about it. He needed to forget it. It was in the past. He’d survived. He had survived it all. He had his whole life ahead of him; he couldn’t let himself disappear into the shadows of memories.

But that was exactly what he had been doing for the past two weeks. He had shied away from everything and everyone. He could no longer muster his usual enthusiasm in class. He ate alone in his classroom, locking the door to keep anyone from joining him. He came to school right before the bell rang, and left as soon as class was dismissed.

And Lucy?

Carter groaned as an ache settled into his heart. He had avoided Lucy like the plague. He couldn’t bear to be near her. She was so beautiful and wonderful, while he was broken and grotesque. She deserved better than him. But, coward that he was, he hadn’t been able to tell her that directly. Eventually, though, she’d get the hint.

He knew it was silly. Surely Lucy wouldn’t let a few— a lot of— scars bother her. She was too good a person for that. Steady, kind, tender. No, they wouldn’t bother her.

But what if they did? What if she saw them and was completely repulsed? Or, worse, what if she saw them and pitied him.

He should have told her before. Shown her before. He was in love with this woman and had seriously considered proposing more than once, despite their short courtship. And yet he hadn’t thought to warn her. What kind of a man hid that? What kind of a man trapped a woman into a marriage with damaged goods?

A faint knock from the front door filtered past his thoughts. Carter took a few deep breaths and looked up into the mirror. The scars stared back at him.

The knock repeated. Carter quickly dried himself off and threw on a bathrobe. He grabbed some slacks on his way through his room and pulled them on as he hopped down the hall to the front door. He glanced at the wall clock— 0800. Who would be knocking on his door this early on a Sunday morning?

Carter opened the door. Lucy stood on the porch, her hand raised to knock again.

Unsure of what to say to his unexpected visitor, Carter stood still, staring at her blankly.

“Hi, Andy… may I come in?”

Carter mechanically stepped aside to let her enter. She looked around. “It’s nice. The house, I mean.”

“How did you know where I live?” They always met in town or at her house since he lived so far outside Bismarck.

“My dad helped close the paperwork when you bought it, remember?” Lucy said. She slipped out of her overcoat and passed it to Carter, who took it wordlessly and hung it up in the closet. She made her way into the living room. “You don’t have much furniture,” she remarked, nodding to the lone armchair.

“Well, it is just me,” he said. In truth, he had plans to add to the furniture but there was still a lot of work to do before he reached that point. Right now he wanted to subtly impress upon her that he wanted to be alone.

Lucy turned on her heel to face him. She reached out to take his hands, but he quickly put them into the pockets of his robe. Lucy dropped her own hands to her side.

“Andy, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Lucy scrunched her nose and glared at him as a hand went to her hip. “You know what I mean! You’ve been avoiding me! You’ve been avoiding everyone!”

“No, I… I’ve just been busy… I have…” He let his words trail off lamely as he gestured to the room. “Repairs… papers to mark…”

“Is this about Tony? You know he’s an idiot, right?”

“It’s not about him,” Carter replied, though he didn’t meet her eyes as he said it. “It’s just…”

“Andy, I miss you.” She stepped closer and reached out, grabbing the fuzzy sleeve of his robe. “I… I’ve been going crazy because two weeks is too long to be without you. Don’t you know I love you?”

At that, Carter looked up and blinked in surprise. The ‘L-word’ hadn’t yet entered their conversations.

“I—” His brain was reeling, preventing him from forming a coherent response. She loved him? Him? Carter nearly forgot everything that was bothering him. In that moment he wanted to howl at the moon; he wanted to wrestle a bear; he wanted to climb the highest mountain and shout to the world that the most wonderful woman he had ever known loved him!

Before he could collect his thoughts, Lucy bridged the gap between them and kissed him.

They had kissed before, but this was different. This was every good and exciting feeling in the world coming together and enveloping them, surrounding them with light and music and fireworks. Carter forgot everything as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so there wasn’t any space to keep them apart.

But then her hand went to his chest and slipped under his robe to his shoulder. He instantly pulled away.

“Stop.”

His brain was still floating from the kiss, but he had enough sense to reinstate some distance between them.

“Andy—” Lucy, her cheeks red, sounded breathless as a look of confusion marked her lovely features.

“Wait.” Carter held up a hand. “The thing is… I love you too.”

Lucy beamed, but then her smile faltered. “But…”

“But… But Tony was right… I’m…”

“Don’t.” Once again, Lucy moved closer and placed her hand gently on his lips.

Carter shook his head. “No, look, I’ve got to be honest. I… I can’t let you… we can’t… You need to see before… before anything.”

Lucy stepped back and nodded. “If you think so, then all right. But, Andy, I love you, and nothing is going to change that.”

Carter bit back a skeptical snort. “Okay, well… if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” Lucy said firmly.

He desperately wanted to believe that. But he hesitated as he fumbled with untying the sash around his waist. “Actually… maybe this isn’t such a—”

Lucy put her hand on his. “It’s okay.”

“Right… Okay.” Carter took a deep breath and untied the sash. From the corner of his eye, he caught Lucy steeling herself. Then, like a band-aid, he pulled off his robe, exposing his scarred torso to the woman who held his future happiness in her hands.

Despite whatever efforts she had made to prepare herself, Lucy gasped and her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“Pretty awful, huh?” Carter said lightly, trying to ease the anxiety that had taken root in the pit of his stomach. He watched as Lucy’s eyes flitted across his body, soaking in every gruesome detail.

“Oh Andy,” Lucy breathed before turning away. She sucked in some air and then met his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Carter’s heart sank. Pity. It was worse than disgust.

“Stop it,” Lucy suddenly said, a harsh tone warping her voice into something alien. “Stop. It’s not pity. Don’t you dare think that.”

Carter blinked. “How did you—”

“Because it’s written all over your face. But it’s not pity. It’s… I’m just… I’m just sad. I’m sad you— wonderful, gentle, wonderful you— had to go through any of that.”

“That sounds like pity,” Carter said, trying hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“It’s not. It’s anger at whoever did this to you. It’s sadness you had to go through it. It’s… Oh, I don’t know what it is. What I do know is that I loved you before you showed me and I love you now. And I know I’m going to love you more and more with every second we spend together. Not because of any scars. But because you’re wonderful, and smart and fascinating, and… because you’re Andrew Carter, the man I adore.”

A small smile tugged at Carter’s lips. “You know what? I believe you.”

Lucy returned his smile. “You better!”

Carter’s small smile expanded into a grin. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close before wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her, drinking in her warmth and goodness as she kissed back. They broke apart and he rested his forehead on hers.

“You know, I, uh, have more furniture in the…” His cheeks burned and he cut off his scandalous suggestion before it fully left his lips. Golly, he had nearly sounded like Newkirk for a moment!

Lucy smirked before pulling him into another kiss.

And, well, if they made their way to the furniture in his bedroom, he was too much of a gentleman to ever admit it.

[rutlancecf]

At first sight.(Fragment)

- Good night.- He heard a voice near the stairs of the living room.

He turned his head and what he found took his breath away. There was the prettiest girl he had seen so far, surrounded by several older people who spoke to her a few words, as well as caressed her head or pricked her cheeks. She was wearing a dress of green, yellow and red colors that made her stand out in the crowd, as well as her black hair was impeccably styled in a small ponytail. Suddenly, the girl turned to look at him and Jonathan could swear that everything was moving in slow motion, just as a song started playing out of nowhere, drowning out all other sounds.

Heaven.

I'm in heaven.

And my heart beats

so that I can hardly speak.

And I seem to find

the happiness I seek

when we're out together,

dancing cheek to cheek.

- Isn't Dami a very pretty girl?- The hand that ruffled his hair brought him out of his reverie.

- Dick!- He exclaimed in surprise. Then he tried to answer, hesitating a bit.- Ehm, yes. Do you know her?-

- Of course, little friend!- He squatted down and pointed to the little girl.- Damiana is my pretty baby sister, but we all call her Dami affectionately.-

- Dami.-

- That's right.- He confirmed and put a hand on his shoulder.- Doesn't she look very pretty in her dress? I bought it for her myself, although she told me over and over again that she didn't like it.-

- Yes, she looks very pretty.- He blushed slightly on his cheeks, smirking.

- Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!- He smiled and said in a low voice, giving him a little push.- Come on, go and greet her.-

- Yeah!-

He approached her, after she went to the table where the sandwiches and punch were. And without thinking about it, he took out the frog that he had inside his sack and extended it to her smiling.

- Do you want her?- He asked her and did not wait for her to answer him.- I found her in the garden of my house before coming to the party, my mom said that she was very ugly and to let her go because she was going to get dirty the suit, but it seemed to me that she was very lonely, so I put her inside my jacket and brought her with me.-

Perhaps it was the silence that stretched, or the look of revulsion Dami gave him, that told him that he had botched his chance to make a good first impression on the Wayne girl.

~What a fool I am! I forgot that girls don't like frogs! Surely she won't want to talk to me anymore! What am I going to do?~

Dami stepped forward, scowling, making little Kent break out in a cold sweat.

- You fool! - She yelled at him.- How do you think of bringing a frog? -

What happened next left the boy perplexed.

- Poor thing, she must be dying of thirst.- She said after taking the animal from his hands.

Rising up on her toes, the black-haired girl picked up the amphibian and dropped it into the punch bowl.

- Much better! She will no longer be thirsty.-

- EEEEEEEH?- Jonathan's eyes widened, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.- WHAT?-

- Listen, you...- Crossed her arms and narrowing the most beautiful green eyes Jon had seen so far, Damiana was interrupted by another scream.

- FOR GOD'S SAKE! THERE'S A FROG IN THE PUNCH!-

And while several people were choking on their drinks or whispering in not exactly low voices, Dami took Jon's hand and pulled him away from the table.

- Huh?-

- Don't stand around like a fool!- The girl scolded him, almost bursting out laughing at the mischief.- Run! Run!-

- Y-Yes.- With his heart beating fast, he smiled while once again he heard the song neutralizing everything, except Damiana's voice.

Heaven.

I'm in heaven.

And the cares that hung

around me through the week,

seem to vanish

like a gambler's lucky streak

when we're out together,

dancing cheek to cheek.

They both laughed out loud, running past their parents, who had already been talking for a while.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

Tijuana sunrise | kinktober 2024 | day xv.: “ugly truth”

pairing: lars ulrich x oc

prompt: orgasm denial

word count: 3573

song: “rid of me” by pj harvey

I met him at Heidi’s after I had gone in there for a cup of coffee and a little round of breakfast for myself. He was one of the most unassuming people I had ever seen, at least at first glimpse: he had posted up there at the heavy wooden counter with a ball cap rested upon his head, and a head full of long smooth hair tied behind his head. In fact, when I strode into the room, and his eyes locked with mine for a fleeting moment, I thought he was just a guy who wanted to look at me from a distance because I had bright pink hair with darker pink streaks around the sides of my head.

But it was his green eyes. His green eyes caught my attention from clear across the room. His green eyes and the scar over his left one that followed me over to the far side of the room.

I took my spot there at the spindly table tucked over by the big window within the shadow of the rising sun. The fact that he sat over there at the bar made me think of Nighthawks, and in fact, his appearance alone made me think of a nighthawk itself. I kept on looking over in his direction in the meantime, even more so as I ordered a cup of coffee and a fresh chocolate scone, some fruit, and a small plate of sausage links. What was interesting was the fact he looked up at me when I asked for some sausage: I needed some kind of protein after the sugar and carbs of the fruit and scone.

Once I was alone again, I leaned over the surface of the table with my face propped up in my chin, and I glanced across the room at him again. At that point, he had taken off his cap and showed off the little head of light, mousy brown hair to the whole restaurant. He looked over at me and showed me a little smile. I flashed my eyebrows at him, which he then followed up with a wink and a puckering of his lips at me.

I recoiled a little bit, but he picked up his piece of pie and white mug, and he strode on over to me: it took me a second to realize he had tucked his ball cap into his jacket pocket. He stood by the edge of the table with either thing in either hand.

“May I have a seat with you?” he offered me; he spoke with an accent, one that I had difficulty pinpointing on, but it caught my attention nevertheless.

“Yes, you may,” I replied with a smile and a running of my fingers through my hair.

He took his spot right across from me, and it was then I caught a whiff of his cologne. I looked on at his piece of pie, at the crisp apples inside as well as the sparkling sugary crumble.

“Dutch apple?” I asked him.

“Yes, indeed!” he replied, and he picked up the fork from right next to the edge of the plate. He showed me his tongue, and he held the tines of the fork up towards his lips. I looked right into his eyes. Something about those green eyes that struck me, and I could not completely explain as to what the feeling those green eyes gave me as well. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked me.

“I’m just… looking into your eyes,” I replied. “It’s not often I meet people with eyes the color of spearmint.”

He showed me a thoughtful little smile, and he kept the fork up close to his face.

“Why am I under the impression that we’ve met before?” I asked him.

“Hard to say,” he confessed as he sloughed off a piece from the tip of the slice of pie. “Quite hard to say.”

The waitress returned to the table with my food as well as my cup of coffee and some containers of creamer. I thanked her and took a bite of honeydew melon for myself. My guest, meanwhile, took another bite of apple pie, to which he glanced up and looked on at me right in the face, that is until he dropped his gaze to the plate of sausages next to me.

“How’s the sausage?” he asked me.

I sloughed off a piece of one and popped it into my mouth.

“Delicious,” I said. “Hot. But delicious.”

I poured two containers of creamer into the cup of black coffee, and then I gave it a stir. All the while, he just relished in his piece of pie, and it took me a moment to realize that he was drinking a cup of black tea.

“Black tea but no milk or sugar for me, though,” he told me with a little wave of his hand.

“Wow, just straight tea! So…” I held my cup of coffee up to my lips for a sip, but I never took one, however.

“So… what?”

“You like it raw,” was all I could say to him right then. He took a sip and smacked his lips, and he set the mug down on the table as he prepared for more bites of pie.

“As a matter of fact, I do like it raw,” he said with a straight face. He reached behind his head and brought his ponytail over the crest of his shoulder: his hair was fine, almost feathery, in texture, and light with the highlights from being under the arctic sun. “All the long hair in the world should tell you that I do in fact like it raw.”

“Raw and… dare I say, ugly?” I asked him, and he nodded.

“The raw and ugly will always be inadvertently more beautiful than beauty itself,” he pointed out to me, and he took another bite of pie, that time with the use of the side of his fork. He neared the edge of the crust, and I knew that he was going to ask for the check soon enough, even though I wasn’t anywhere near close to being finished with my breakfast.

“Meet me at Pyramid Lake at noon,” I suggested to him.

“Pyramid Lake? North of Reno?” I nodded at him. “Which part of Pyramid Lake, exactly?”

“The south shore,” I replied with a gesture to the sun side of the restaurant, where the window beheld the view of the traffic outside, just in time for the mid-morning breakfast rush. “Where the Truckee River meets up with it and bleeds into it like an Indian paintbrush.”

He showed me a smile, and then he sipped on the rest of his tea. But he never stood to his feet, at least not until I had finished my food as well.

“Such a gentleman!” I declared as we walked on up to the register together to pay our bills on separate parts.

“It is the least that I can do,” he assured me with a little smile; his cheekbones pillowed up into little apple shapes, such that I couldn’t help but picture myself kissing him there. I showed him a smile in return, and then I turned to the waitress at the register and paid for my breakfast.

When he and I returned to the table, we both chipped in on the tip, and then the two of us returned outside to the hustle and bustle of the main street and the warm morning sunshine.

“I should probably tell you,” I began again, that time in a louder voice so he could hear me over the traffic; “that Pyramid Lake is one of those places where, you’ll see a puffy cloud near the north shore, and twenty minutes later, you’re met with a torrential downpour complete with intense winds and thunder and lightning.”

He put on his sunglasses and gazed off to the northern edge of town: there was not a single cloud up over our heads, and yet the royal blue of the sky danced and reflected off the glass as if he had dunked his head under the realm of a watercolor.

“But let’s bounce on up there, though,” he suggested. “I shall meet you on the south shore.” From behind his sunglasses, he flashed his eyebrows at me. I adjusted the strap over my purse, and I flashed him one final smile, and I walked on back to my car in the parking lot. When I stood next to the driver’s side door with the key in my hand, I looked on at him on the far end of the lot, right as he took his ponytail holder out from his hair for a moment, and then he adjusted the tail into a loose bun at the back of his head. He put on a blue motorcycle helmet, and that was my cue to climb inside the front seat.

I fired up the car, and I pulled up behind him right as he climbed aboard his motorcycle, a little black bike with a sparkling dark blue livery and the word “Rokke” inscribed on one side of the body in fine curled cursive writing. He peered over his shoulder at me, to which he nodded at me and fired it up.

I found a gap in the traffic, and I darted my way out, away from Heidi’s and up the main road towards the north side of the town. All the while, I expected to hear a motorcycle flying up from behind me, especially as I passed the Mongolian barbecue and the last stretch of shops before the last crosswalk. I made my way up the hill towards Washoe Valley.

It was a little more than an hour up to Pyramid Lake, but I had faith in that boy, however. I had faith in him as I scurried along the floor of the valley and the long, low mud puddle that was Washoe Lake. I gazed out the window at Mount Rose as well as the mountains that surrounded it, all of which were still somewhat covered in patches of white snow. I was rather proud of myself for having suggested Pyramid Lake to him, because I knew that motorcycle would be somewhat out of place up there with all of the late-season skiers.

The road gently curved around the north rim of the lake and meandered through those desert hills for a time before Reno entered my view. I still hadn’t seen him on his motorcycle behind me as of yet but I still had faith that he was back there somewhere. I passed the airport and the Hilton before I caught the signs for Pyramid Lake.

I had forgotten how desolate the whole area was, and more so with the fact that I finally caught the view of the little puffy white clouds way off in the distance. I just had a feeling as I took the next turn-off up to the lake.

The hills, the feeling that I was approaching some kind of hallowed ground…

Once I came over the ridge, I caught a glimpse of something dark blue in my rear-view mirror, and I nodded to myself.

The road dropped down through the last canyon, whereby I caught the view of the vast swirling blue waters out there against the valley. Off to the right was the meeting of the Truckee River that churned into the rim of the lake in a slight cataract and a babbling brook in between a series of sagebrush. Off to the left of me was an alcove of the lake; right in front of me was the white stone island in the shape of the eponymous pyramid.

I spotted the nearest stretch of parking down at the edge of the alcove, and I took the spot by the guard rail. I climbed out and took a glance out to the waters as they lapped at the shore down below. I was alone there, but not for long as I caught the sound of the motorcycle before he rounded the bend. He flashed his lights at me, and I waved up at him.

The blue livery sparkled under the late morning sun as he pulled up next to me. He lifted his helmet visor to show me another smile filled with those little apple cheeks.

“We are at the southern shore,” he told me over the idle of the bike.

“Not exactly,” I assured him. “We go down the road here, there’s a bit of grass where we can play and have a little bit of fun, dare I say.”

“I am following you,” he assured me as he puckered his lips at me. I returned to the car, and I once again led the way down the road towards the mouth of the Truckee River. I spotted the patch of grass and the pair of accompanying trees right near the lake’s edge, a little oasis against the desert backdrop and a brief taste at the bit of civilization across the river.

I pulled over again, and he followed suit right behind me. Once I had climbed out of the car, he unzipped his jacket and took off his helmet. He lay both on the backseat of the bike, and then he gave his hair a good toss with the shaking of his head. Those green eyes twinkled with the swirled waters off to the side. In fact, he looked off to the side, to the surface of the water beyond our little pocket of paradise with a somewhat puzzled look upon his face.

“Why is the water so…” His voice trailed off a bit.

“Swirled looking?” And he nodded his head.

“Volcanic hot springs,” I told him. “In fact, this whole place is depicted as an Indian woman weeping onto the earth, and it’s only a matter of time before she avenges her family.”

“Hence the feeling that I just came onto some sacred land,” he followed along, and then he leaned into my face for a kiss on my cheek.

“What was that for?” I asked him, taken aback.

“To show that you have good taste,” he replied with a lopsided little smile on his face, but then the smile disappeared as quickly as it showed up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I can’t ask for your name now—I already made out with you,” he confessed to me.

“Oh, nonsense,” I scoffed.

“No, it’s for real,” he assured me. “It’d be rude of me to do that.”

“You didn’t make out with me, either,” I insisted. “It was just a little peck on the cheek.”

“What would you consider making out?”

I licked my lips and moved into his face for a good hearty kiss on his own little cherry lips, which were soft and tasted of black tea. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through his smooth hair, whereby I began from the roots outward to the ends. With my other hand, I held his little body closer to me from the small of his back. I pushed my breasts against his own chest, and I ran my hand up the crest of his back towards his shoulder blades. I ran my fingers through his hair again, and then I let go of him after I had treated him to a soft, pleasured groan from the back of my throat.

He fluttered his eyelids at me, and a soft blush bloomed across his face to where he looked as pink as a ripe apple.

“That’s making out,” I told him in a low voice, and he let out a low whistle.

A gentle breeze blew all around us. The river babbled behind us into the lake waters. I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder at the small line of puffy white clouds right over the line of hills beyond the northern shore. They seemed to be collecting every time I turned around for a look.

He then clasped his hands on either side of my face and slithered his tongue into my mouth. He moved in with such passion that it took me by surprise.

I could feel the crotch of his pants as it pressed up against my thigh, and I reached down to hold him there. I gave him a little pinch with my index finger and my thumb to hold him in his place.

“You’re going to block me, aren’t you,” he teased me.

“Maybe,” I teased him back, and I let go of him for a brief moment. I rounded him as if I was about to do a dance on a cane. The swirled waters of the lake lapped on the edge of the shore behind us in quiet solitude: a stretch of quiet hallowed ground to give us a moment alone together. Quiet before the clouds continued to collect at the north shore behind us.

I returned to the front of his body and ran my fingers down the middle of his neck to the collar of his shirt, down onto his chest, down onto his belly and then the waist of his jeans. I lifted my gaze to his face and the devilish expression about it and the twinkle in those green eyes.

“You aren’t coming, you little scoundrel,” I teased him with a wag of my finger.

“Ooh, hoo, just you wait, my dear,” he teased me back. He lunged for me like the greedy boy he was, and I rested a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. A part of me wanted to throw him into the lake, into those warm waters, but I had no idea how much algae was down in there, so I held off on it.

We locked eyes for a moment, to which I puckered my lips at him to tease him some more.

“I need—” he gasped out, and he threw himself onto the grass under the tree. He closed his eyes and let out a low whistle, followed by a gentle moan.

With a low hum, I sank down in front of him, down on my hands and knees, and I reached down to the crotch of his jeans. He lifted his head to see me fingering and feeling him, and he stuck out his tongue at me. I wagged my finger at him again, and that time, I unbuttoned his pants for him, which in turn made him gasp.

“Hold still, you greedy boy,” I scoffed at him. I opened his pants and reached down inside there to feel him. I dragged his pants off some more just to see what I was doing. The wind picked up just enough to blow some of my hair into my face, but I wasn’t going to let it get in my way, however.

Gently, I massaged his shaft with both hands. I kneaded him as if I was kneading bread dough. I had a firm grip on his shaft, whereby I dragged my hand up towards the tip. It was as if he was made of clay.

He spread his legs and rolled his head to the side from the feeling that I gave unto him.

I was gentle but firm. I kneaded him but I was also careful with him.

Before I had a feeling that he was about to shoot his load or reach his apex, I let go of him and held my hands off to the side. His chest heaved, and he let out a soft groan.

I repeated that process three times, before it looked as though he was ready to turn red with frustration.

The wind picked up more, and I raised my head to see the clouds beginning to manifest over the northern end of the lake.

“I just heard thunder,” he confessed.

“But we’re not going anywhere,” I told him with a wag of my finger to his face. I then extended a hand to him, and I led him into the safety of the backseat of the car. Before we hid out in there, he grabbed his jacket and helmet. His face was still bright pink as he tucked the helmet into the trunk; I offered him the comfort of the blanket in the backseat, to which he happily obliged.

Next thing I knew, he and I hid out in the backseat under a heavy Indian blanket and his leather jacket as the sky grew dark and the wind began to pick up even more. The rain and thunder was upon us, but he and I were safe in there: he never fixed his pants, so I kept my hand down on his bare belly, right over his fully exposed dick.

“I hope my bike makes it okay,” he confessed right into my ear.

“It will,” I promised him.

“God damn it,” he groaned out. He let out a low whistle and rolled his head over the top of the seat.

“We’ll be safe in here,” I assured him as I spread my fingers over his skin. He showed me a smile right then. Thunder rolled outside, and then I caught the sound of the rain on the roof. We were safe in there, and I was safe to keep on touching him until I, like the lake, decided to throw the dog a bone and the weather broke again.

[nerendus]

Okay, under the button since it's like almost two hundred movies, but I want to start making some progress on watching these films, but despite it being two hundred, my brain says that it is still a small list, so I am once again looking for more movie recs. 🙇

1. Requiem for a Dream

2. Pacific Rim

3. War Games

4. Sharp Objects (2018) dir. Jean-Marc Vallée

5. Les soeurs Brontë (1979)  

6. Crimes of the Future

7. Videodrome

8. Jackass

9. Novitiate (2017)

10. The Sons of Katie Elder

11. El Dorado

12. Raw Deal

13. The Running Man (arnold)

14. The Mist

15. Black Mountain Side

16. In The Mouth of Madness

17. The Fifth Element

18. The Many Saints of Newark (will watch show first)

19. James Bond series

20. Resident Evil (seven thousandth watch)

21. The Boy and the Heron

22. Moulin Rouge

23. Bill and Ted (second watch)

24. The Day The Earth Stood Still

25. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 

26. Jurassic Park (second watch)

27. Robocop

28. The Perks of Being a Wallflower

29. The Boondock Saints

30. Legally Blonde (second watch)

31. The Fog (second watch)

32. Llamageddon 

33. Hellraiser

34. Candyman

35. Shaun of The Dead (second watch)

36. Scarface

37. The Shawshank Redemption

38. Ghost in The Shell

39. No Country for Old Men

40. Kill Bill series

41. The Wolf of Wall Street

42. Watchmen

43. Lone Wolf and Cub series

44. Last Night in Soho

45. Throne of Blood

46. Fargo

47. Hereditary

48. David Lynch:: The Art Life

49. Wayne's World series

50. I Am Legend (second watch)

51. Grease 

52. Good Will Hunting

53. The VVitch

54. Leatherface

55. Fantastic Planet

56. Blue Velvet

57. Pulp Fiction (second watch)

58. Twister (second watch)

59. Donnie Darko (second watch)

60. Tales from Earthsea

61. The Secret World of Arrietty

62. Late Spring (1949)

63. From Up on Poppy Hill

64. Rashomon

65. Intermezzo

66. Casablanca

67. When Marnie Was There

68. The Wind Rises

69. The Tale of Princess Kaguya

70. I Married a Witch

71. David Bowie: The Last Five Years

72. Vampyr

73. Kill Boksoon

74. Glass Onion series

75. The Wonder (2022)

76. Hook (1991) (second watch)

77. Time Trap

78. The Yin Yang Master

79. Hold The Dark

80. All Quiet on the Western Front

81. The Cloverfield Paradox

82. Reservoir Dogs

83. Spider-man (2002)

84. The Karate Kid series

85. Unknown Cosmic Time Machine

86. The Good Nurse (2022)

87. What Did Jack Do?

88. Banyuki

89. Amina (2021)

90. The Colony (2021)

91. Cities of Last Things

92. The Metamorphosis of Birds

93. The Mirror (andrei)

94. Andrei Rublev

95. Nostalgia (andrei)

96. The Sacrifice (andrei)

97. Ivan's Childhood (andrei)

98. The Steamroller and Violin (andrei)

99. Sunset Blvd (1950)

100. Ikiru (1952)

101. Seven Samurai (1954)

102. Citizen Kane

103. Dr. Strangelove

104. La La Land (2016)

105. Noriko's Dinner Table

106. The Godfather

107. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

108. The Good The Bad The Ugly

109. Mad Max Fury Road

110. Goodfellas

111. Indiana Jones series

112. Fight Club

113. Galaxy Quest

114. Dunkirk

115. Groundhog Day

116. Star Trek movies

117. Full Metal Jacket

118. Pink Floyd: The Wall

119. Naked Lunch

120. The Iron Giant

121. Chinatown (1974)

122. Minority Report

123. Velvet Goldmine

124. Dogma

125. To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newma

126. The Prestige

127. Annie Hall

128. Taxi Driver

129. Dead Poets Society

130. The Matrix

131. The Green Mile

132. Django Unchained

133. Your Name

134. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

135. Inland Empire

136. The Elephant Man

137. Lost Highway

138. Woman in the Dunes

139. Meshes of an Afternoon

140. Tokyo  Decadence 

141. Limbo (1999)

142. Maps to the Stars

143. The Machinist

144. Under the Silver Lake

145. The Northman

146. Kingdom of Heaven

147. The Grand Budapest Hotel

148. The Revenant (alejandro)

149. A Clockwork Orange

150. Incendies

151. Apocalypse Now

152. Knight of Cups

153. Once Upon a Time in America

154. Valhalla Rising

155. Inception

156. Interview with a Vampire

157. But I'm a Cheerleader

158. Angels in America

159. Pan's Labyrinth 

160. Clue

161. Asteroid City

162. Anastasia

163. Jo jo rabbit

164. Fantastic Mr. Fox

165. Rambo

166. Mission Impossible 

167. Suspiria

168. Jarhead

169. Macbeth

170. Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters 

171. Visions of Ecstasy

172. The Handmaiden (2016)

173. The Fly (cronenberg)

174. Dead Ringers

175. Tenet

176. Sicario

177. Vanishing on 7th Street

178. Invasion of the Body Snatchers

179. Gladiator

180. Once Upon a Time in the West

181. Children of the Corn

182. The Revenant 2016

183. Transformers series

184. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

185. Gaslight (1944)

186. The Road

187. Vesper

188. The Hills Have Eyes

189. Tentacles

190. Die Hard series 

191. Freddy Got Fingered

192. The Day After Tomorrow 

193. The Song of the Scarlet Flower (Teuvo Tulio, 1938)

194. Jane Eyre

195. Northanger Abbey (2007) 

196. Lady Chatterley`s Lover (2015)

197. LA COLLECTIONNEUSE (1967) dir. Éric Rohmer

198. The Lion In Winter

[gloryride]

Stature and informal for Isao and face and night for Enzo? :3

Thanks for asking, friend 💕 As usual, you ask for Isao ... and now, you have a crush for my nomad racer ? 😏 can't blame you !

[OC ASKS : CHARACTER DESIGN EDITION] ask if you want, love this one

ISAO

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

172cm, mesomorph, shaped like an inverted triangle, muscular without being bulky. He has a V-shape, with visible muscles because of his bone-dry body, while remaining fairly slim. His muscles are noticeable under his well-tailored suits and slim-fitting shirts, with suit waistcoats accentuating them more. But as he wears black every day, it remains subtle. It's obvious when he's standing from the back, well cut, the jacket drawing the V to perfection. When he drops shirt for Arasaka's polo shirt, chosen as close to the body as possible to avoid creases, there's no mistaking his lean musculature. His organic arm is exposed, muscular, with visible veins barely hidden by the imposing tattoo that runs the length of his body.

If you want to see what he looks like, all you have to do is go to the gym in the Arasaka tower, where he sometimes works out shirtless. You can see that while he's not imposing in terms of height or huge muscles, he's well-trimmed, with well-defined muscles. He's charging without really looking like it. It makes you want to touch it.

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

He's never really lazy. Even in comfortable clothes, he wants beautiful materials and to be able to open his door without shame. This man likes to control how others see him. If he's not going out, Isao wears an indoor outfit based on pyjama trousers and an open robe/kimono. Or maybe wide-legged trousers with no shirt. But not ugly trousers or overly baggy ones, just what you need to be relaxed but clean. Comfortable, easy to put on, but not too lazy! If he's going out, he'll choose a plain T-shirt and the same loose trousers. Often all black or red. Nothing flashy, as usual. It's all very casual.

ENZO

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

A sleek Greek nose, sculpted cheekbones, mischievous green eyes, a rosy mouth with a thin upper lip and a fleshy lower lip that makes you want to kiss it, framed by an undergroomed beard on a delicate jawline, all held in place by chestnut hair with auburn highlights in the sun, medium-length curls and rebellious locks, some of which fall over her forehead. At the age of 24, Enzo's skin is tanned under the desert sun, with freckles and scars on his cheeks and forehead, resulting from accidents in life and on the road. His eyes are circled, and he doesn't sleep much because he can drive for hours in the middle of the night, stop to sleep for 3 hours and then start again for the pleasure of driving in the rising sun. He's used to waking up early at the camp, no matter how late he goes to bed. He's up at 5.30 a.m. to be at the garage corner to work with his father in the fresh air, and then he has a siesta in the afternoon when it's too hot to work. He often leaves afterwards to run an errand or have some fun… His dark circles signify a busy life for this active man!

As for his grin, I'd like to say his grins. This cheeky fellow often wears a mischievous smirk, as if he's always got something on his mind. This reveals a dimple in the right corner of his mouth. The discreet smile, almost shy without being coy. Enzo often doesn't know how to act with the person in front of him but doesn't want to lose face. It can also be forced, with lips pursed, a sign that something is affecting him. Or annoys him. The bright, luminous, happy smile. It's the smile of good days, victories and happy moments too. It's also the smile of celebrations with friends and family.

But what people see first are his eyes. A perfect green, neither too dark nor too light, sparkling and penetrating. It's hard not to look into his eyes, especially as they are the perfect mirror of his mood, betraying his emotions!

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

A good nomad will tell you that it's a risk to sleep naked in your tent. You never know what might happen in the middle of the night, or who might turn up in the morning uninvited. Enzo is well aware of this, and that's why he always sleeps either in his boxers or in one of the sports shorts he sometimes wears around the camp. He rarely wears a top, and despite the coolness of some nights, he prefers to wrap himself up in his blanket rather than sweat in his bed! And even when he sleeps in motels after a race, he won't be completely naked, out of habit. He'll only do that when he's with Jay, who's probably too tired to look for his clothes!

He also sometimes sleeps in his car after driving for several hours. He often just takes off his jacket and gloves, and sometimes his shoes, but remains fully dressed. Once again, it's for practical reasons and to avoid being caught unprepared.

[queenrisa14]

I’M SORRY???

IS THAT THE UGLY GREEN JACKET IN CRYSTAL FORM?!?

[michaelmilligan]

Build-a-twink

(Read on AO3)

(Based on this post)

Adam resettled on the couch, then squirmed and shifted again. Hugging the pillow tighter, he turned half his face into it so only one of his eyes was free to look at the TV screen.

On said screen, a man who had been presumed dead was currently reuniting with his family and lover.

Adam? Michael said, more tentative than usual. Are you alright?

When he raised his head off the pillow, Adam saw Michael's projection standing next to the couch, the perfect mirror of himself in some ways, but not in so many others. For one, Michael wasn't wearing pyjama bottoms and a soft t-shirt, but his usual get-up. Jeans, a black t-shirt and the black jacket that Adam had eventually convinced him to don instead of the butt-ugly green one. His hair was also decidedly less messy than Adam's currently was, after hugging the pillow.

And of course, the way he held himself and just the way he looked, his facial expressions – that was so undeniably Michael that Adam sometimes forgot that they technically looked the same. When he'd first had access to mirrors again after the cage, Adam had often been surprised at his own reflection. Wondering who that dude impersonating Michael (and doing a poor job at it) was.

“Adam?” Michael asked, this time in the voice that sounded like it came from outside Adam's body, though of course in reality it didn't.

“Sorry, yeah.” Adam sat up a little. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael frowned down at where Adam was now clutching the pillow to his stomach.

“Sure.” Adam hugged the pillow even tighter.

Casually, or at least pretending to be so, Michael moved his head towards the TV. “The movie is a happy one.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. When he glanced at the screen, the reunion scene was over, all hugs given and done with.

Adam's grip around the pillow relaxed a little.

“Did it upset you... because you had no one to return to?” Michael asked sombrely, without looking at Adam.

“What?” Adam blinked at him, needing a moment to process what he'd said. “Oh, dude, no! I'm not sad about that.”

Admittedly, it had been a bit difficult to return to Earth but not have any family or friends there. It had felt like when he'd visited Windom only to find that his house had been renovated and strangers had moved in. An empty, lonely feeling, filled with longing for something that would never come back.

And then, later, when he'd woken up at that lake without Michael... But that was in the past, and Michael was back now.

For a moment, Michael said nothing, and just sat down on the couch next to him. Just when Adam thought he'd evaded that conversation, Michael said: “But you are sad.”

“I'm fine.”

Michael gave him a look. “You're hugging that pillow like it's going to run away if you let go. And the way you're pulling your legs against yourself means that you-”

Adam groaned. “I know what it means, Dr. Phil.” Huffing, he stretched his legs out, and put the pillow next to him on the couch. The knot in his stomach didn't ease, though. “Happy now?”

“No.” Michael kept looking at him sternly. “I didn't learn your human mannerisms just for you to pretend they don't mean anything.”

“Oh, that's what you're worried about, huh?” Adam teased him, but Michael didn't rise to it, knowing he wasn't serious.

“Adam,” he just said again.

“Alright, fine.” Adam sighed and looked down at where the hand of Michael's projection was resting on the couch. It wasn't solid, Adam knew that, didn't actually touch the couch and couldn't touch him – and yet, he itched to reach out and take it. “But it's stupid.”

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. “Spit it out.”

Instead of an answer, Adam gave into the urge and traced one finger over the edge of Michael's hand. There was nothing there, Michael's 'body' just a projection he tricked Adam's brain into seeing.

“I know we're as close as two people could ever be,” Adam eventually said, “but... sometimes I wish I could touch you.”

Michael was silent. Adam withdrew his hand.

“Sorry. I told you it's stupid.”

“You never said anything in the cage.”

“Things were different down there. We were mostly trying to survive, to distract ourselves and each other. And the way we existed down there was wonky anyway. Sometimes you were your true form, sometimes you looked like me... But now...” Adam looked away. “We're out, we're safe, and...”

“And you're human, so you want human forms of companionship,” Michael concluded, a touch of disappointment in his voice.

“No! I mean... yeah, kinda?” Adam sighed. “I don't know. I just wish... never mind.”

“You could have that,” Michael said, a strange wobble in his voice.

Adam's eyes snapped up to his face. “What?”

“I could... give you some room... go to Heaven for a bit,” Michael said, frowning and not looking Adam in the eyes.

“What? W- why would you leave?”

The bewilderment on Michael's face would have been endearing if Adam hadn't been feeling the same.

“You want human companionship,” he said slowly. “If I leave, you can go and find that. I mean... technically you could do that while I'm here, but that might be weird.”

“No! What are you talking about? I don't want that if it's not with you!”

Michael blinked at him.

“Sorry, that... that came out weird.” Adam blushed and fiddled with a string that had come loose on the pillow several days earlier. “Just.. I don't want you to leave. I want you here, only... more tangible. But I get that it's not really possi-”

“How often?”

“Huh?”

“How often do you wish you could touch me, physically?” Michael asked.

“It's fine. Don't worry about it. Really, I'm just being silly. Like, you're literally inside me and your grace is all around my soul and stuff, all of the time,” Adam babbled, not wanting Michael to think that he didn't understand, or that he didn't value what they had. “If we were human- both human, I mean, it would be like we'd be sitting on top of each other all the time and-”

“Adam.” Michael's voice was calm, but clear and determined. “How often?”

Adam squirmed on the couch. Glanced at Michael, then averted his eyes again. “Every day, lately. But it's fine, I'll get over it, and we don't have to change any-”

“Adam.” Michael fixed him with a look. “You do know we can do that, right? I can get a different vessel.”

“No.” Adam flushed. The thought of Michael being inside of someone else – just no. “I don't want that, you... you'd be puppeteering some poor bastard, and then what? Would you let him out all the time? Would he be watching everything we do? Would-”

Would Michael have an agreement with him, too?

When Adam finally looked back at him, Michael's expression was soft.

“I don't want that either – to share a body with someone else.” He frowned. “Maybe there's a way... but to possess someone, I need their consent, and that means there has to be a soul present...”

“I know.” Adam reached out again, then pulled his hand away when he noticed what he was doing. “Look, I know this isn't gonna work. You can't just make yourself solid and neither of us wants you to possess someone else. It's fine. I can handle it.”

“Maybe there's still a way. I can ask Raphael,” Michael offered, but Adam shook his head.

“You don't have to. It's alright.”

Sometimes, Michael 'left for work', which meant he stopped possessing Adam to go help out in Heaven. The phrasing had started as a joke, but as time went on, they had used it less and less ironically.

Whenever this happened, Adam needed a moment to re-adjust. After running on archangel juice for so long, the transition to being mostly human again was always jarring.

It had its perks, though. For one, Adam could sleep again. And everything tasted even better when you were just a little bit hungry or thirsty. It was also somehow easier to relate to other people again when you couldn't travel great distances in the blink of an eye and had to actually do something to maintain your body.

It was still a taxing process. Usually, after Michael left his body but before going to Heaven, he would wait to see if Adam was alright. It was the same this day – Michael hovering nearby, all blinding light and churning heat, a myriad of eyes all fixed on Adam as he blinked his own eyes open.

“I'm fine. Go,” Adam said, sluggishly waving a hand.

Michael slow-blinked at him with all his eyes, an affirmation or maybe a sign of trust or both, before he vanished into the ether.

Then, Adam was alone, and he took a moment to process that fact, too. In addition to the physical change, there was also a mental adjustment, since he was suddenly alone in his own head. That was always more unsettling than he would have liked, though ultimately he could calm himself with the knowledge that he only needed to pray to Michael to be heard.

While Michael couldn't always react immediately to his babbling, since the connection only ran one way and he couldn't just drop everything to come back when Adam prattled about his day, it still made Adam feel like he wasn't alone.

That day, it was somehow easier, though. There was still the tell-tale emptiness in the spot around his heart – his soul – where Michael's grace usually sat, but it was easier to handle. Adam imagined he was the housewife (or househusband in this case) of a rich corporate type who let him live in his shiny expensive apartment and spoiled him wherever he could, but spent long hours at work. (None of which was too far off the mark.)

Adam started humming at that, and then he turned on the radio they'd bought for the kitchen. While Adam could have gotten a Bluetooth speaker to connect with his phone or something, that just didn't feel right. In his youth, the radio had been Adam's friend in the many lonely hours when his mom hadn't been home. Now, it was his friend again when Michael was gone.

They also listened to it together, sometimes, though Michael always got annoyed when the music stopped and people started talking. Adam found it soothing, and interesting, but he would sometimes change the station when the news came on, or when Michael grumbled too much.

Now, he just let the radio play, choosing a rock station as he pulled ingredients out of cupboards. It would be blueberry pancakes today, he decided, and stooped to get a mixing bowl from below the counter.

There would be orange juice and coffee to go with that, just like he always got in Cousin Oliver's Diner when his mom and him had gone there for breakfast.

They'd gotten fresh oranges the day before, when they'd stocked up for Michael being gone. Adam didn't always trust himself to go for groceries right afterwards, so it was better to do it before.

As Adam prepared his pancakes, he whistled along to the radio. Later, he ate on the balcony, then stayed outside in the sun, sipping his coffee.

There were books afterwards, and games. Gabriel had gotten him a Switch at some point, for whatever reason. Raphael said it had been an offering of peace towards Michael after they'd had a fight, and since Michael neither needed anything material nor would have been likely to accept anything, it had gone to Adam.

Not that he minded. Being able to play Pokémon again was kind of fun, and he had quickly found out that there were a lot of cool games for the Switch. Michael was only all too eager to get him anything he wanted, so Adam now had a whole shelf full of those slim boxes with the tiny cartridges.

He mostly played them when he was alone, though sometimes Michael liked to watch. He'd helped choose names for the animals on their farm in Story of Seasons, and had insisted that they call it 'Milligan Farm'. He also had a lot of ideas on how to optimize the use of their in-game days, to the point where Adam was basically just acting out his directions.

Maybe he should just let Michael play it directly. Though he might deny that he liked it.

In any case, Adam left that one for when Michael was back, and instead fired up Diablo III. He could play that for hours – and he did, only realizing how long it had been when he realized it was dark.

Sighing, he put down the game to fix himself dinner, then played a bit more until he felt sleep tugging at him.

It was weird, feeling exhaustion again, but there was also something incredibly relieving about it.

Despite everything, he was still human.

There had been a time when that had scared him, when he'd first woken up on the shore of that lake, with Michael gone and no one giving him straight answers about what had happened. Everything had seemed scary then, even just walking and talking to people. Now, Adam felt more secure, though that might be because he had a place to stay, safely warded against demons and most angels.

You couldn't ward against hunters, which was unfortunate because Adam really would have liked to keep Sam and Dean out permanently. Then again, it wasn't like they contacted him often.

Adam rarely left the apartment while Michael was gone, though he was working his way up to it with occasional trips to the local farmer's market. (Michael always insisted that fruits and vegetables should be fresh, and the ones from the supermarket spoiled much quicker than the others. Sometimes, Adam suspected Michael was partly responsible for that, though it also happened when he was gone, so probably not.)

The next few days passed with more games, reading and a stop by Adam's favourite coffee shop. (It had a latte with amaretto, chocolate and cherry syrup that was to die for.)

Adam had just started the washing machine so he could wear his favourite shirt again when he felt the familiar presence of an archangel descending, the room suddenly beginning to glow.

“Hey Michael,” he said, and the windows rattled in response. “Come on in.”

Possession was... a lot. When an archangel poured his being into a tiny little human, it was bound to be a tight fit, and it felt like Adam might burst from the light and the heat, more and more of it coming where there should have been no space left anymore.

It was a lot, and it was painful and glorious at the same time, almost orgasmic. Michael always huffed when Adam used that word, and it wasn't like either of them was usually aroused when it happened, but the sensory overload did come close.

A mind fuck, Adam sometimes called it jokingly, just so Michael would roll all of his eyes in exasperation.

“Hey there,” Adam said happily when it was done, feeling Michael's grace swirl around his soul and settle within him.

Hi, Michael said. How have you been?

Adam had only prayed to him once or twice to let Michael know he was doing alright. He hadn't wanted to disturb him while he spent time with his siblings and worked in Heaven, but Michael was always anxious about Adam's well-being.

“I'm good. Lost against Arkanine again, but I think I'm getting better. What about you? Any news in Heaven?”

“Well, you know Heaven,” Michael said, using his projection. “There's always something new these days.”

He shook his head, probably thinking about how it had been quite the opposite for most of his life, Heaven being unmutable. Then again, so had the angels been, with some notable exceptions. That was a thing of the past now, and as its residents had changed, so had Heaven.

It was an ecosystem, after all, where everything was connected in a very literal sense. Angels hadn't been supposed to be individuals, but part of something bigger. Except that the whole concept was flawed since it had been based on beings who had been created one after the other, some before Heaven had even existed.

“They're trying the shared Heavens on a larger scale now. There were some hiccups, but they've mostly sorted them out, and are currently creating a system to connect the shared Heavens to each other without it being too confusing. Right now, there are only about half a dozen shared Heavens, but if they really roll this out for all souls, there will probably be millions, if not more, so there needs to be a way for the humans to navigate between them without getting lost.” Michael shrugged. “It's a daunting project, to say the least, especially without any God.”

Adam nodded. While Jack had taken on his grand-father's powers and job at one point, they'd put it down again after a few months. Stabilizing Heaven had been a top priority, and after that, the remodelling of Heaven didn't seem to require a God anymore.

Besides, being mostly all-knowing and all-powerful had weighed on the kid, and they hadn't wanted to do it anymore. So they'd split the power between several people as well as Earth itself, and Jack had stepped down.

They were still involved with the construction work, just not as the leader anymore. There was an angel council, nowadays, decided on in an actual election. Castiel, Gabriel and Raphael were all on it – Adam didn't know what it said about angels that they'd elected those who had run, or tried to run Heaven before, plus the other remaining archangel on the ballot.

Maybe they were the best for the job, or maybe the angels still needed to learn how to think for themselves. Whichever it was, Adam was sure it would work itself out over time.

Michael seemed thoughtful, and Adam chalked it up to him still contemplating Heaven. But then he said, somewhat nervously: “There's something else. I talked to Raphael.”

Adam looked at him in confusion. “Okay?”

Michael talked to Raphael all the time, and he wasn't usually so careful about telling him. So what was this? Would Michael be needed again soon? Was he just stopping by to tell Adam that it would take longer?

What if it would take a lot longer, or if he had agreed to go back to Heaven permanently, after all-

“Adam,” Michael said soothingly, “it's nothing bad, I promise.”

Adam blushed, having been caught spiralling again.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and felt Michael curl more tightly around his soul, letting him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

“It's about what you said a few days ago. Wanting to touch me?”

Adam blushed even more deeply, but nodded. When he said it like that, it sounded almost inappropriate...

“I talked to Raphael – well, and Gabriel – about it and there might be a solution. One where I don't need to share a body with someone else.”

Adam felt his eyes widen as his heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Yes. It's... unconventional, and we're not entirely sure if it will work, but I think it's worth a shot.”

“Well? Are you gonna tell me what it is?” Adam asked, then listened carefully as Michael explained.

It was unconventional, or more like a little crazy, but then again Adam had been living with an archangel in his head for more than ten – or one-thousand – years, so crazy was pretty much his normal now.

“Good morning!” Gabriel said as he sauntered into the apartment, Raphael, Jack and two more people in tow.

“It's the middle of the afternoon, Gabriel,” Michael chastised him, and frowned at the two people Adam didn't recognize. “What are they doing here?”

“If you may remember, Adam was the first and last person for whom this was done successfully,” Raphael said calmly.

Adam?

Adam and Serafina, Michael said, the first man and his angel trait- I mean bi- I mean lover.

Wow, old habits really die hard, huh, Adam commented. If she's a traitor and a bitch, then what are you?

Shutting the hell up is what I am, Michael grumbled, and concentrated outwards again.

“He didn't do it himself, so what use will he be?” he asked Raphael.

Adam – the biblical one – raised an eyebrow, as if to indicate that he was right there, thank you very much.

“He's moral support,” Gabriel answered. “Now can we start? I have a date in two hours.”

A date? Adam asked curiously. Do you know who he's-

No, and I really don't want to know, Michael said decisively.

Spoil sport.

“Why did you schedule a date for today?” the Biblical Adam asked, with the air of a man commenting on the weather, not discussing time management and love matters with an archangel.

“Well, the date was scheduled before this whole thing.” Gabriel gestured between the people in the room. “And you don't exactly cancel on the Queen of Hell.”

Everyone stared at him except for Raphael, who just let out a long-suffering sigh.

“We should get started,” they said dryly, and everyone stepped closer, gathering in a circle.

“Are we going to do it like we discussed?” Jack asked, the first time they had spoken since entering.

“Yes.” Michael nodded, and pulled out his angel blade.

Serafina twitched, which was interesting – her vessel didn't move, but her wings did, and there was a displeased ripple in her grace. The Biblical Adam just frowned at the blade while everyone else looked at Michael expectantly.

Look away, Michael told Adam.

No way. If you're gonna fillet our chest, I'm gonna watch.

Michael sighed. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.

He pulled up their t-shirt, revealing naked skin underneath, then put the angel blade against their ribs. With a quick, but deep cut that he barely let Adam feel, he opened up their rip cage.

Then he shoved a hand inside.

Geez, this is like a saw movie or something, Adam commented. It was a bit odd seeing that on himself, feeling Michael's hand rummaging inside of him until he got a solid grip on a rib.

A quick twist of the wrist, and then Michael pulled the rib out of Adam's body.

Whew. That sure is something. Adam was looking at the rib in fascination, the pre-med student in him trying to figure out which one it was while another part of him flinched at the thought that this had come out of his body.

For anyone else, the thought of losing a rib would have been distressing. Just as he was thinking about that, though, Michael already healed their wounds.

Re-growing the rib would take a few more minutes, since Michael wanted it to be as painless as possible for Adam. So Michael handed the bloody rib over to Raphael, who huddled together with Gabriel and Jack to start the process.

Then Michael sat down on the couch and waited until the rib was complete again.

Will you be alright if I go now? He eventually asked.

Yeah, of course. Adam nudged him with his soul. Have fun at Build-a-body.

A ripple of amusement washed from Michael to Adam before he separated from him, grace uncoiling from soul to leave his body again.

When he was gone, Adam felt bleary for a moment. He only realized his eyes were closed when he felt, but didn't see, a hand on his leg. Blinking his eyes open again, he saw Serafina kneeling in front of him.

He could still see her wings and grace, he realized in fascination, even though Michael wasn't possessing him.

“You okay, kid?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Adam said, and craned his neck to check what the others were doing. But he couldn't really make anything out except a bright glow and the vague outlines of Michael's true form between Raphael, Gabriel and Jack.

He could see their wings and grace too. Interesting.

He didn't usually spend time around angels without Michael present, so he hadn't known that he could see them like this on his own. Maybe a side-effect of the long possession. He didn't think he'd seen Zachariah like this, only remembered the sleezy-looking business man they guy had been possessing at the time.

“Must be a first,” Adam's namesake said, coming to sit next to him on the couch. “An angel making himself a body from someone's rib.”

“Aren't we all ultimately made from your rib? Eve was made that way, right?” Adam countered.

The other Adam smiled sadly. “Yes, she was.”

Adam suddenly wondered what had become of her. While Michael had told him about an Eve, the Mother of Monsters, he had been very clear that this was not the Biblical Eve. Apparently, there had been an earlier Eve, made even before the first angel was created.

At one point, Adam had wondered what it said about God that he had created monsters before angels. Now, knowing all that he had done, Adam was pretty sure he knew what it meant.

Adam wouldn't ask about Eve. It wasn't any of his business, and besides, you don't ask about someone's ex or dead wife in front of their current girlfriend.

“How long do you think it will take?” he asked Serafina instead. Since she was an angel, he figured she might have an idea.

But she just shrugged. “I wasn't there when Eve was created and besides, no one here is God. So... anything between ten minutes and forty days, I guess.”

Adam made a face. Forty days? It wouldn't take that long, right?

“What she's saying is that your guess is as good as any,” the Biblical Adam told him, leaning his arms on the back of the couch. “Hey, while we wait... you don't happen to have any... herbage, do you?”

Adam looked at him for a moment. “I'm guessing you don't mean basil.”

The Biblical Adam laughed. Huh. The first man, a stoner.

Well, he'd had to deal with this world's bullshit for a long time, so maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise.

“Alright!” Gabriel suddenly said, and Adam turned to see him take a step back to regard his work. He was still blocking Adam's view, and Raphael was still leaning in and seemingly fussing about some detail. But it seemed like they'd be done soon.

When Jack's eyes stopped glowing, Raphael stepped back too, the specifics apparently straightened out now.

“May I present to you,” Gabriel said dramatically, whirling around to face Adam, “in a brand-new vessel, coming to you from that guy's rib-”

Gabriel gestured to Adam, but was interrupted both by a sigh from Raphael and by Michael pushing past him.

“For fuck's sake, Gabriel,” he grumbled, and Adam's eyes widened at the first sight of him.

When Michael's eyes met his, they turned soft, and they just looked at each other for a long moment.

Into the silence in the room, Serafina suddenly said: “Why does he look the exact same?”

Adam blinked. Yes, Michael looked like him, safe for the clothes and the way his hair was styled. (Michael liked their new hair-cut on Adam, but not on himself.) Adam hadn't even noticed, or rather, he'd expected him to look that way – the same as his projection.

“The clothes are a nice touch,” the Biblical Adam commented. “Eve didn't have clothes, at first. Well, neither did I at that point.”

“We need to monitor the situation in case the vessel isn't sturdy enough, but at least the possession worked. As we theorized, a body made specifically for an archangel, out of the rib of a man who previously consented to possession, can work,” Raphael said, like a doctor talking about the medical break-through of a complicated surgery that had never been attempted before.

Well, it was kind of like that, in a way. Michael had been transplanted into a different body, one that archangels (and an archangelic nephil) had first built themselves.

Still not fully processing everything, Adam got up from the couch and took a step towards Michael. This felt surreal.

A part of him was afraid that if he reached out, he still wouldn't be able to touch Michael.

But then Michael closed the distance and took his hand, and Adam's heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” Michael said softly.

Adam couldn't have kept down his smile if he'd wanted to. “Hey,” he replied, feeling the warmth of Michael's hand against his.

“Uh, does anyone else hear a swelling string orchestra?” Gabriel asked, only to get nudged in the ribs by Raphael.

“Seriously, why does he look like him?” Serafina whispered. Adam heard it, but he wasn't going to look away from Michael to reply. “It's weird. And I thought they made the separate body so the kid didn't have to bother with him anymore, but now they're holding hands?”

“I'm not leaving Adam's side,” Michael said, loud enough for the whole room to hear, but also not looking away from Adam.

Good, Adam thought, squeezing his hand.

They'd never touched like this, couldn't have done that, but somehow it felt natural, like the translation of what their grace and soul often did to this new situation. This was what Adam had wanted. It felt amazing, and the possibility of more – a hug, maybe – almost made him dizzy.

“Perhaps we should leave, and let them... adjust,” Raphael said.

“Didn't you say you want to monitor him?” Gabriel asked, surprised.

“They can always pray to us if anything happens. We shouldn't hover.” With that, Raphael was gone – out of the corners of his eyes, Adam saw them leave, then re-appear and take a protesting Gabriel with them.

“Oh. Then we should leave too,” Jack said, and nodded at Serafina. Within a few seconds, and with Serafina's hand on the Biblical Adam's shoulder, they were all gone.

It was just Michael and Adam now. They kept looking at each other, until Michael's eyes dropped to their intertwined hands.

“I could get used to this,” he said thoughtfully, letting his thumb trail over the back of Adam's hand. “Though it's a bit weird to be all alone in this body.”

Adam winced, thinking much the same. “Do you think... Could we change back if we wanted?”

Michael's eyes flicked from his chest – where his soul sat – up to his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. “Yes. Gabriel came up with a stasis spell, so we can always put this body to the side.”

“Cool. Then I won't grow old as quickly.” Adam grinned at him. When Michael possessed him, he didn't age. “Can't have me get all grey and wrinkly while you look like the pinnacle of youth.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Good to know you only keep me around for vanity reasons.”

“Oh, shut up.” Adam had the crazy urge to lean in and kiss him. But he caught himself at the last second, just swaying on his feet a little.

“Are you dizzy?” Michael asked, frowning.

“No, just... giddy, I guess.” Adam chuckled. “This is so unreal.”

“On the contrary, it's very real.” Michael put his free hand on Adam's arm, maybe to steady him. It was odd not being able to read his thoughts, but there was also a thrill to it.

And the touch of both of Michael's hands was so warm...

“What did you want to do?” Michael suddenly asked. At Adam's confused expression, he added: “You said you wanted me to touch you. But I didn't exactly ask how you meant that.”

Adam blue-screened for a moment. Judging from the concerned look on Michael's face, he might not actually have been breathing.

“Um,” he then made. “What... what do you want it to mean?”

Michael blinked, looking surprised. Then he blushed.

“Well...”

Adam stared at him, entranced by how cute he looked, all shy like this.

“Well?” he prompted, trying and probably failing to keep a hopeful note from his voice.

Michael shifted on his feet. “Well, I have... some ideas.”

And Adam was content to try them all with him.

[whereisten]

Devotion/Obsession

A Jaehyun fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Jaehyun is new to town and wants you to show him around. But the truth is, he has known you for a while..

Pairing: Lucifer!Jaehyun x female reader

Other Characters: Husband!Kun

Genre: angst, smut, horror

Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, cheating, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, smut: breeding kink, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, size kink, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, c*eampie, pregnancy, character death.

Word Count: 8.9K

(A/N: okay ummm...this is influenced by stories told in the Bible, I hope I do not offend you with my interpretation, Jaehyun in this is a huge stalker!! This isn’t love, he’s obsessed and it’s unhealthy. But I hope you guys enjoy❤️ THANK YOUUU ARI FOR PROOFREADING THIS FOR ME I LOVE YOUUUU❤️❤️❤️❤️😭)

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Long ago, there were two beings on Earth, Adam and Eve. They were created by God and tainted by Lucifer, the serpent. The serpent found himself in love with God’s creation, Eve, for she bears a striking resemblance to his first love, Lilith, whom God cursed and sent away. 

God’s most beautiful angel, Lucifer, fell in love with Lilith even though he was forbidden by God to do so. He tried to fight for her in a war against the angels of Heaven, but was struck down to Hell where he could rule the dark. He saw Lilith become a demon. Her beauty had gone away as God made her ugly and it hurt Lucifer to even look at her anymore.

And so, Lucifer turned to Eve and loved her instead, polluting her mind, body, and soul and thus, causing her to be cursed by God as well. She was hidden by God from Lucifer. He grew angry and decided to continue to defy God by living on Earth and causing havoc on both small and large scales.

He went by the name of Jaehyun now, a strikingly handsome bachelor with a mansion on the outskirts of a popular city. He stayed on Earth at the exact point above hell where his throne rested so he could cause evil to run through the city unstopped.

He never forgot about Eve. After all these years, his soul still yearned for her. He cursed at God for hiding her from him and for taking not one, but two of his dearest loves away.

He would walk through the city and see all the couples enjoying each other’s company. They’d laugh and smile and he’d wish nothing but pain for them. If he couldn’t be happy, why should they?

Then one day..he saw her..he saw Eve.

————

You were packing away fruits, placing the oranges in an organized pattern so they wouldn’t fall to the floor of the supermarket. He saw you, delicately picking up the spoiled fruits and placing them into the bin to throw away later. You had a small smile on your face that made you look sweet and your fingers were soft, gentle. You looked at each fruit with adoration in your eyes, like you treasured the round balls of nectar as if they were made of gold.

He walked closer to you, still staring intently.

He wondered how you could exist, how you were here with her face, her body, her hair..you were her. It didn’t take long for him to notice the sparkling ring on your wedding finger. But he didn’t care about that, now that he had you, he would never let you go.

Even if you didn’t sound like Eve or looked at him the way she did when she was in love with him, he had to have you.

“Hello, can I help you, sir?” You turned to the man you noticed had been hanging around you for a bit too long.

Your voice was heavenly, it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

You were looking at him, awaiting his answer when you placed an apple onto the shelf. You didn’t see that placing it in that exact spot would cause for another to fall. But Jaehyun already knew.

He quickly knelt down beside you and caught the green apple as it fell.

You looked down at him and gasped. How could he move so quickly.

He stood up straight, still locking eyes with you. A smile creeps across his face.

“Here.” He hands you the apple as you look down at it still in shock.

“Oh..thank you.” You chuckled and took it from him, then started to walk away after feeling..odd.

He walked towards you. “Umm..excuse me, miss? I’m new here, and I just want to know..where can I find the best coffee?”

He looked down at your name tag.

“Y/n..” he says quietly.

His voice is smooth and nice, just as nice as his perfect face, you thought it ought to have been carved by God himself. His jawline was perfect and his eyes were magnetic, you couldn’t look away.

However, you should’ve. You were married after all.

“Oh..hmm about five blocks south, you’ll find Johnny’s Café, it’s quite nice actually.”

Jaehyun wanted to ask you to join him, just so he could talk to you, just so he could get close to you and have you firmly in his grasp, never to let you disappear again. But he didn’t, he decided to wait, if he scared you away, that would only make it worse for not only him, but for you as well. The last thing he wanted was to hold you against your will just because you resembled her.

“Thank you, y/n, I’ll see you next time.” He walked close to you and nodded slowly. As if hypnotized, you never let his eyes go while you nodded.

He walked by you, leaving you breathless and almost star struck, but who was he? Why did he have this interesting glow about him that made him stand out from everyone else?

Later that day, Jaehyun followed you home. His black Lamborghini wasn’t discreet to say the least, so he had to trail behind a few hundred feet. He could see you jamming out to music in your car as you left work. 

You were adorable and happy, he loved seeing you like this.

He parked far away from your house, he walked over in a long black trench coat and watched as you went inside. You were greeted by a man that looked like...Adam..

His eyes grew into glowing red orbs, he tried hard to hold back his horns and nails.

“This is God’s idea of a joke, isn’t it?” He spoke to himself. Not only were you the exact replica of Eve, your husband was an exact replica of Adam.

You hugged your husband, Kun, hard and smiled widely, happy to see him after a long day at work.

The door clicks shut and Jaehyun stands there with steam escaping his hot ears. He had to figure out how to get rid of Kun.

————

[The Next Day]

You’re lugging around a large box of lettuce through the aisles when you see him..again.

“Hello, y/n, do you need help?” 

You stare at him. “W-what are you doing here?”

He was handsome, you had to admit, your heart couldn’t stop beating like crazy when he showed up. He was stylish in his turtleneck and jean jacket. He smelled refreshing like amber and honey.

“What? A man can’t shop for groceries?” His dimples peeked through as he smiled and tilted his head.

“Oh-no it’s just, two days in a row?”

You furrowed your brows when you sensed something wasn’t right.

Jaehyun could tell that your heart rate was rising because of his presence, you looked around like you were nervous.

“I know, it’s weird, right? But the truth is..I just wanted to see you again..” he said huskily. You felt your chest weaken.

You put the box down and turned to him. “Oh so you’re one of those creeps? Well, I’m flattered but..I’m also married.”

“That’s alright..” he gave a small smile, his dimples showing through again. You turned away. 

“So...what are you looking for today?”

“A friend.”

“A friend?” You chuckled.

He swayed from side to side and looked up to the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll get to the point..there’s a..korean barbecue place that I wanted to try..are you free after work?”

He was so strange but had an aura about him that you couldn’t ignore. His features were sharply defined and his eyes never let you go. You should’ve been creeped out but you weren’t, for he was warm and intriguing. Lately, you felt like Kun was so busy with work. You’d get home and wait hours for him, your friends were busy as well as they were either taking college classes or travel king constantly.

Sometimes, you felt you were alone, so why not start something new.

You hummed before answering. 

Jaehyun watched your cute expression, the way you looked to the floor and stuck your hands in your apron.

“I guess..I am free after work.” You nodded.

Jaehyun nearly jumped up and down right inside the store. He grinned from ear to ear.

“Just don’t pull any moves, I’m married okay?”

You teased and felt your face become warm.

“I promise I won’t.”

The two of you went to dinner at the Korean barbecue place Jaehyun wanted to try. He was enraptured by you, caught up in your presence. He was so in love and you had no idea.

You told him about places to visit in the city and he told you about where he had come from. He made up a city and a backstory to relate to you, telling you that he had investments that started from his grandparents and that’s how he made money.. He’d do anything just to keep speaking with you, even if it meant lying.

He fought hard to hold back his naturally glowing red eyes and goat-like horns. He had to remain normal so you could become his soon enough.

And when you left him and went home, he stayed outside of your house once again, using his elevated hearing skills to listen to you speak with your husband.

Kun was talking to you about some new project he had in a city about two hours away. You stayed silent, disappointed that he would be gone yet again for a business trip. Kun was the senior architect and had to present, he couldn’t skip out on these trips as much as he wanted to.

“Listen, baby I’m sorry but you know how it is.”

Kun stepped into the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He took his shirt off as he was about to shower.

You spit water out into the sink and look at your reflection, you were trying hard to hold back your anger. Kun stood behind you and watched you through the mirror with a concerned expression on his face.

“If I knew you were going to be gone all the time, I wouldn’t have married you..”

Kun scoffed. “Don’t say that, you know you don’t mean that, y/n.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and smirked through the mirror.

His hand went to your breast and cupped it.

“I mean it, Kun, how is this supposed to work when we have a family? I want us to both be present for our kids.” 

Kun kissed along your neck, he knew you were ticklish. 

You started to giggle. “Kun..stop, you’re distracting me.”

“Ahh baby, did you just say “our kids?” Are you trying to tell me something?” He squeezed your breasts gently

You turned to him and kissed his lips. His other hand reached under your frilly nightgown, bunching it up at the waist, and to his satisfaction you wore nothing else under it. 

“Should we start right now? Should we have a family?” He brushes his clothed erection into your back as he presses his fingers over you already dripping folds. His deep voice always got you like this.

You gasped and looked at him through the mirror. Soon you were gripping the edge of the counter and crying out his name as he fucked you from behind. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back so you could look at him through the mirror as you came all over his girthy cock.

Jaehyun heard it all, he imagined it was him bringing you to sweet paradise like he did long ago. He listened to your moans and imagined it was his name you called as your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

It pained him to have to pleasure himself as he imagined all that he would do to you. He was Lucifer, after all. He could have anyone in the dark world pleasure him without even asking twice, but he didn’t want just anyone. He wanted you, and soon he would have you right in his grasp.

————-

[1 Month Later]

Jaehyun was a regular customer at the supermarket you worked at, he’d come in at least once a day. You found it odd that he always knew when your breaks were, so he’d bring you coffee or a snack.

If he didn’t visit during his break, he’d wait for you outside so you’d go to a new place for dinner together after you clocked out.

You spoke about everything. He seemed so smart as he knew about every detail in history and taught you about the world and why things were the way they were.

You watched him intently, your eyes grew when he told you something so interesting, your heart started to race. Like the presence of aliens or ghosts and witches. They all existed and Jaehyun told you all of the evidence as you sat there, stunned.

And then, it was his turn to ask questions.

He finally asked about your husband, even though he knew everything about him.

He knew that he had a short temper sometimes but your fights would either lead to make up sex or him sleeping on the couch. He had watched you every night since finding you. He didn’t sleep, for even the thought of closing his eyes and losing sight of you made him sick to his stomach.

“My husband, Kun, is an architect. He works really hard, but he loves me and I love him. He’s really sweet, I never stop thinking about him. We got married about a year ago, and I couldn’t be happier.” You smiled as you looked down at your hot pot as thought of Kun.

“Ahh..that’s nice..he seems like a supportive partner, during your first year of marriage, have you fought a lot?” Jaehyun tilted his head while smirking.

“Nope! We don’t fight at all, we’re pretty chill, you know?”

You were lying to him and he didn’t like that, but he swallowed hard and smiled nonetheless.

“I see..” he nodded.

He realized that he’d have to work harder to get you to stop thinking about Kun. He’d have to sabotage your current relationship if he ever dreamed of being with you soon.

Killing him would be too easy, he’d have to make Kun so bad, that you’d run to him for relief.

———

[A Week Later]

You kissed Kun goodbye and wished him well for his trip. He quickly kissed you back and walked through the front door without a hug.

“Honey?” You called out to him. “Where’s my hug?” You pouted.

He threw his hand up and continued to walk towards his car. “Sorry, baby, gotta go!”

He had been acting strange these past few days, but you knew he was stressed so you brushed it off. You had had sex the night before but he wasn’t as gentle as he usually was, you could tell something had upset him as he choked you for the first time. You didn’t mind it, you were just surprised by how...different he was.

Little did you know that it was Jaehyun that was making his daily work more difficult. Kun’s important documents and files would go missing right before a presentation, his coworkers weren’t showing up for work, and his boss was always upset with him for some reason. He was starting to dislike his job and he wasn’t sure why, for this was his passion, but lately, everything seemed to be going poorly.

Kun was having difficulty sleeping as well. He’d have disturbing dreams of a place with fire and monsters with sharp teeth. He’d sweat and pant, and eventually be jolted awake in his bed, every night at 3:23 A.M. he’d go downstairs and watch something on TV or write down a few project ideas.

The lack of sleep definitely contributed to his poor mood, but he didn’t tell you for some reason.

Jaehyun watched Kun speed off. He smiled to himself, knowing that his plan was working, he was getting frustrated at work and began taking his anger out on you. 

————

[Four Days Later]

You continued to spend time with Jaehyun. You lost track of time as you watched him speak. His dimples were adorable, his voice was intoxicating and you loved staring into his deep brown eyes.

He watches you play with your wedding ring as you nod and smile at him. His smile was like a blooming garden, his laugh was like heavenly trumpets. The two of you were flirting now, and he could tell from your heartbeat that you weren’t really listening to him, instead, you were fantasizing about him. The glances turned into stares.

You watched his lips and licked your own, your face was hot, but you furrowed your brows and looked down at your ring.

What were you doing? Were you getting emotionally attached to him? You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t hurt Kun.

You got up from your seat. “Well, it’s late.. I should go.”

“Noo.. don’t leave yet.” Jaehyun stood up and touched your hand. The disappointed look in his eyes ate away at your heart. You were developing a nice friendship, but a part of you was afraid that it was becoming something more, something that couldn’t be.

“You look stressed. Do you want a drink?..we can visit that new bar in town.” Jaehyun bites his bottom lip.

A drink did sound nice, it had been a while since you and Kun went out to a bar together and sometimes you did miss the atmosphere, you were young after all, everyone else in their early twenties went out.

Jaehyun smiled to himself as he saw you contemplate your options. He knew you were worried about Kun, but he also knew you needed to have some fun.

So you agreed.

The two of you went out to a bar and drank. You laughed and joked around all night. Jaehyun pretended to be affected by the alcohol, just so he could make you laugh and see your beautiful smile.

He dropped you off home at about 1 A.M after you sobered up a bit.

You turned to him and licked your lips. “You know, Jaehyun, if I weren’t married to Kun..I would date you for sure.” You giggled and leaned in close. And all Jaehyun could think was “yes.” He wanted to feel your plump lips so badly, he wanted to caress them and make love to you to relive the best days of his life, but now was not the time.

He backed away and held your hand while searching your eyes. “Y/n...you should go inside now..”

You sighed, nodding as you opened the door to quickly leave before you could embarrass yourself any more.

You go into your house and to your surprise, Kun is there, his face red and stern as he sat on the loveseat in the living room. The room was dark, lit only by a small night light in the corner and the moonlight from outside. 

Kun was nearly fired by his boss during his trip. He was upset and frustrated, but what made matters worse was when he went home at 10 PM to see that you weren’t there. Then time went on and you still didn’t come home.

You smirked and put your bag down.

“Babyyyyy.. I missed you.” You start to crawl over his lap slowly.

He can tell from the drawn out tones in your voice that you’re drunk. He winces and turns away.

“Where were you, y/n?”

“Out with a friend..we had some drinks and talked.” You straddle him, placing his crotch in between your legs as you kneel over him. You then lean down and kiss his collarbone.

“Why are you home so late? Is it because you didn’t think I’d be home early?” Kun growled out. He wasn’t amused in the slightest by the way you were acting.

“No, baby, I just wanted to hang out with someone for a little bit, you know? I’m so lonely when you’re not here.”

You try to kiss his lips but he flicks his head to the side.

“Who’s this “friend?”

You gulp and straighten your body. You pout as you look down at him. “Baby, kiss me..don’t you miss me too?” You take the straps of your dress down before unhooking your bra and throwing it to the floor.

Jaehyun watched through an open window behind the loveseat as you kneel over an angry Kun. His eyes glow red and his horns grow out of his head as does the straining member in his pants. You in your drunken haze never noticed the pair of crimson eyes outside.

Kun doesn’t touch you or look at your breasts with nipples begging to be sucked. He wanted to take them into his mouth badly, but he was more focused on another issue at hand.

He wrapped his hand around your throat. “Tell me..their name.”

You smirked. “His name is Jaehyun..but we’re just friends, baby, I promise.”

Kun thrusts himself into you from below, grinding hard against your covered opening. You whimper and move your hips to rub your slit against him.

“Well..stop being friends with him, no guy just wants to be friends with a girl..he wants to fuck you..”

You grind down onto him harder, he squeezes his hand and grips your thigh.

“He doesn’t, he’s really nice and helps me at work sometimes.”

Kun digs his nail into your thigh causing you to cry out in pain. He digs into it so deep, he sees blood from your leg run onto his thumb.

But you reach under your dress and pull his boxers down. You still wanted him in your aching core badly, the pain only added to your yearning.

“Y/n.” He says sternly as he watches you align yourself with his hard cock. You sink down onto him slowly and let out a loud moan as it passes through the sensitive skin and rests deep in your core. You adjust to him quickly as you had already been built up by dry humping him before.

He squeezes your throat again.

“Y/n..” 

You move up and down. “Yes..” you call out before licking your lips.

He grabs your waist with both hands and lifts you off of him.

“Kun!” You cry his name after being left empty.

“You’re not gonna get out of this so easily. If you want my cock, tell me you’re done with him.”

“But, baby..”

Kun shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m your husband and you should really take into consideration how I might feel when you spend time with men, when you fucking drink alcohol with men like..like some kinda slut.”

You gasped. “Slut?” 

Kun nods. “Look at you, you’re just thirsty for any male attention. I work my ass off for a few days and you’re already looking for a replacement.”

“Kun, that’s not true.” You felt your chest rumble, as if you were about to burst into tears.

He flips you over onto the couch. “I’m your husband, aren’t I?”

You nod.

“Then do as I say, don’t go out with Jaehyun again.”

Before you can protest his thrusts into you hard and begins to choke you again.

He goes hard and fast as you mewl. 

“Baby, slower, please.”

He bites your nipple and looks down at you to see your body tremble with each rough thrust he gives you, your lips parting to let out the most heavenly moans, your round breasts moving up and down, your legs bent and spread across the loveseat.

“You’re all mine, right?”

“Yes..fuck, yes.” His thumb on your clit makes you dizzy.

“Then I’m gonna breed you, would you like that? Gonna fuck you so hard and get you pregnant.” Kun grunts into your ear.

Jaehyun grimaces outside of your window. Kun, or Adam rather, hadn’t changed at all. He still believed in a woman’s subordination to her husband. He believed from the beginning of time that a woman should lay under her husband, not above.

And now, he was trying to make you his by breeding you, making it impossible for you to break the link between the two of you. But Jaehyun had to make sure that didn’t happen, he had to stop him before he could do this to you.

————

[Three Days Later]

It’s been three days since that night and you hadn’t shown up to work. Kun made love to you day and night on your time off, he felt threatened by the presence of another male in your life and felt it necessary to remind you why you married him in the first place.

He cooked breakfast for you and bought you nice things. You even went to the movies and ice skating. You enjoyed the time off and Kun’s company, it finally felt like things were getting back to normal. You were happy.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was furious. He knew where you were, but he couldn’t believe that you had forgotten about him so easily. He didn’t want to get violent, but maybe he would have to.

A few days later, you finally return to work and as usual, Jaehyun was there to bring you a cookie.

“Hey! Where have you been?” He asked as you put bread up on the shelves.

“Oh..I took some time off, Kun came home early so we had a little vacation..thank you for the other night though, I really had a great time.” You finally looked up at him and noticed the slightly crazed look in his eyes. His lips were tightly shut.

“That’s great. Would you like to go out again tonight?” He asks sweetly.

You sigh and shake your head. “Umm...Jaehyun..I can’t..do this..”

His smile starts to fade.

“I-I can’t pretend that we are just friends when I’ve had thoughts about you that I shouldn’t have. I’m married and it’s..really not right for me to get emotionally involved with someone.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s nonsense! We are just friends.”

“But we’re not. Look..it’s best if we end this now, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come to my work place anymore.”

Jaehyun screams internally. You were really doing as Kun said by cutting him off. Was he that disposable?

A smile still rests on his face. 

“As you wish..” he nods and leaves after handing you the cookie he brought.

You swallow hard and sigh. That was harder than you thought it would be, but it felt right. It felt like you could finally focus on your marriage with Kun.

Your day at work ended as it usually did. You closed up and walked to your car, but as you got closer you noticed a figure standing beside it.

It had two red eyes and horns peeking out of its skull.

You slowed down. “Hello?” You called out into the empty parking lot.

The figure stepped out of the shadows and under a street light, that’s when you squinted to make out its familiar features. The red eyes and horns had disappeared.

“Jaehyun?”

He stood there creepily in a long black coat and black pants. His face was unreadable and he stayed silent.

You walked closer. “Jaehyun, what are you doing here?”

“You know..” Jaehyun scratches his head and laughs.

“I think we should grab something to eat.”

“Jaehyun..” you looked to the side and away from his somber face. You were just a few feet away from each other now.

“We’ll just be eating, we don’t even have to talk.” Jaehyun stepped forward and pleaded.

He didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t lose you, not after all this time when he had finally gotten so close.

“I can’t, Kun is waiting for me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

Jaehyun felt his body tremble whenever you looked at him like that.

He suddenly leaned forward and kissed your lips hard. You fell into him for a brief moment, but then realized what was happening. You quickly bit his lip and pulled away.

“Jaehyun!” You rubbed your lip. “What the hell?!”

He licked the blood on his lips and frowned after your warmth disappeared.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ he reached out for you again but you backed away and opened your car in a rush.

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!”

Jaehyun only watched as you scurried into your car seat and locked the car doors.

He banged on the window hard, you jumped from the sound for you were terrified by him. You saw a dark flint in his eyes that you’d never seen.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you put the car in drive.

You sped out of the parking lot and away from him.

“I’ll never let you go, y/n, now that I have you..I’ll never let you go.” He whispered to himself.

————-

[1 Month Later]

The honeymoon feeling you felt with Kun soon dissipated as things went back to how they’d usually been. He spent his time at work and would come home upset, some nights he didn’t even speak to you. He looked sleep deprived and when you asked him about it, he’d have a fit and say he’s fine.

Some nights he wouldn’t look at you, you couldn’t remember the last time you had made love.

He was always short with you, but lately, you found it increasingly difficult to deal with his negative mood. Is this really who you wanted to be married to?

Jaehyun had been messing with him, he’d purposely make every day difficult for him. Kun couldn’t sleep most nights, but when he did, Jaehyun made sure to fill his mind with dark scenes to scare him. Sometimes he’d throw in false images of you making love to a faceless man. It gave Kun the feeling that he was walking in on you cheating on him. He would wake up from these nightmares but they felt so real, he couldn’t ignore how upset they made him.

Kun was paranoid, he felt like someone was out to get him and he didn’t know who it could be, but he didn’t trust even you as much as he did three months ago.

Then one night, you came home late because of a terrible thunderstorm and traffic. You were only about an hour late, but Kun was already home and steaming on the couch.

“Where were you?” He asked as soon as you entered the house.

You exhaled loudly. “Oh, so now you speak to me.”

“Yeah, I’m speaking to you, I’m asking a fucking question.”

You raised your brows. “And who are you to talk to me like that?”

“I’m your husband, or did you forget that when you fucked him tonight?” Kun bit back as he sat up in the chair.

Your face wrinkled as you placed your bag down.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jaehyun..do you think I’m some kind of idiot? I know you’re still seeing him.”

You scoffed. “Wowww Kun.”

You walk away to the kitchen to get some water.

“No, don’t “wowww” me, tell me I’m lying!” His voice started to raise, he walked into the kitchen after you.

“Kun..you sound ridiculous right now, I’m late because there’s a thunderstorm, or do you not hear it just like you don’t hear your phone ringing when I call you?” You asked sarcastically.

“If you’re gonna be late, you should tell me.”

You gulped down your water. “I don’t have to report anything to you! You’re not my king or whatever you think you are.”

“I’m your husband! And you should treat me like a king because look at this house, you wouldn’t be in it if it weren’t for me.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you really holding the house over my head? Wow Kun, you’ve really hit rock bottom, haven’t you?”

Kun chuckles. “Maybe Jaehyun lives somewhere nice, why don’t you go to him since I’m not your king.”

“Okay, here we go again, why are you so insecure, Kun?!” 

The two of you went back and forth that night. You broke down in tears as Kun said hurtful things that left you stunned. 

“I want a divorce!” You yelled and stormed out.

You jumped into your car and drove away, you didn’t know where you were going to go, but you knew you needed to be away from him.

You dialed up Jaehyun who had heard the entire conversation from outside of your house.

“Hello?” He said with the faked tone of confusion in his voice.

“Jaehyun..I need to see you.”

You drove to his house.

It was an incredibly large mansion, and when you went inside, the walls were lined with gold and red velvet curtains. It looked beautiful, unreal almost.

You wondered how Jaehyun could live in an expensive place at such a young age.

Jaehyun looked at your magnificent face as your mouth dropped open.

“Investments.” He smirked.

You laughed and looked back at him. His eyes were warm, his smile was bright.

He could tell you had been crying so once in the foyer he steps close to you and searches your wet eyes.

He runs his thumb along your cheek as you gaze up at him.

“What happened, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s Kun..we fought, I just..I don’t know, Jaehyun, I don’t think we can make it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, y/n..”

“I love him, I really do but..” you look to the side and sniffle.

“Is he controlling, y/n?”

Your eyes flicker up to him. You nod slowly.

“Is he the reason why you stopped hanging out with me?”

You nod again.

Jaehyun purses his lips. “Y/n..he’s threatened by you, he doesn’t want you to be independent now that you’re married. He wants to control you and that isn’t a partnership. That isn’t love.”

Your eyes brim with tears once again. “Jaehyun..I don’t want to think about him right now...I want to feel loved, can you do that for me?”

Jaehyun’s dark soul nearly escapes his body. “Of course.” 

You place both hands on his head and kiss him slowly and sensually. You both close your eyes as you fall into him more, his arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to him. He wants to become one with you, feel you, smell you, to be completely enraptured by you for eternity.

Time stood still and your heart fluttered as it was finally being satisfied by something it had craved from the first moment you met Jaehyun.

He too felt everything slow down to a crawl, your lips tasted like the sweetest fruit, your hands were soft like plush blankets.

He pulls away to breathe, his hot breath hitting your now swollen lips. “So beautiful” he whispers into them, then kisses you again in the dim lighting of his house.

He takes you into his arms and carries you to one of his many bedrooms.

“I will take you higher than the heavens themself, just give in to me.” He whispers softly.

He lays you down gently onto the fluffy bed and watches as you relax into it, your hair looking gorgeous as it lays against the white sheets, your neck just begging for soft kisses or hastily made bite marks, cute nose and round, swollen lips. He looks into your wide eyes and smiles. “You’re stunning.” He kicks his shoes off and crawls over you.

You giggled and held him by the hem on his shirt. “Jaehyun...kiss me.”

He leaned down and kissed you as you asked. He was transported back to when your name was Eve and the two of you made love in the garden. Your lips taste the same as hers, your skin feels the same, your touch and everything else was the same. Jaehyun was more than pleased to finally be experiencing your love again.

You start to take your pants down your legs and eventually kick them off. Jaehyun takes his clothes off as well, then watches you take your hoodie off to reveal your breasts.

Without hesitation, he lays his tongue flat against the perky nub, coating it with his spit. He then swirls his tongue around it while he massages the other breast that he hasn’t tasted yet. 

You moan and run your fingers through his hair.

His fingers press onto your thigh, then work their way to your sensitive skin between your legs. You tremble as they brush lightly against it.

You arch your back, telling him silently that you want him to go further. He sucks your nipples harder and listens to another moan leave your beautiful lips.

He takes two fingers and uses them to part your folds. He circles his fingertips around your entrance to collect the liquid that has formed from you being so turned on already.

He kisses the skin in between your breasts.

“You taste so sweet.”

He pushes his fingers into you slowly, your legs widen a bit to adjust to him. His fingers are long and slender, but it doesn’t take much time before his knuckles hit your most sensitive part.

“Jaehyun..” you exhale.

His fingers glide in and out of you slowly, he curls his finger tips to press right onto the fleshy spot that makes your head spin. He flicks his tongue across your breast as his fingers work on your needy area.

He looks up at you through low eyes, your dainty fingers grasping onto the sheets tightly.

“So-so close.” You whimper.

His fingers move faster, pressing onto your clenching walls as you get closer.

He then kneels and looks down at you as his fingers still move back and forth.

He licks his lips and lowers his face to the apex of your open legs. He flicks his tongue across you slit now, combining the action of his tongue with his finger to drive you crazy.

He moves his tongue in circular motions onto your clit as his finger moves in faster and presses onto your g-spot harder.

His long tongue flattens onto you repeatedly. 

You cry out his name one final time before cumming onto his fingers. He continues to rub his nose onto your clit and lick inside you as you climax and shake.

You try to push your body up away from him, but he holds your waist down firmly and continues to eat you out.

“Jaehyun!” You look down at him to see his eyes, almost with a glint of red in them, looking up at you sternly.

He places a kiss onto your folds then crawls over you to face you. He licks his lips. 

“Y/n, my love, I will never force you to bow down to me, you are my queen, you always have been. I will not lose you like I did so long ago.”

You’re slightly confused, but you nod and kiss him. He lays down beside you and takes your waist into his hands as his tongue now dances with yours.

He brings your body over on top of his.

Your skin becomes littered with goose pimples as he runs his hands up and down your thighs.

You kneel over his intimidating length and take in a sharp breath while running your hands along his chest and abs. He, too, was magnificent, like a painting or sculpture come to life.

He takes your hand in his and watches your naked body above him. 

He remembered the first time you made love, you rode him that time too, bringing him to his most memorable orgasm of all time.

You sink down onto him slowly, your head falling back instantly.

You couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching around him as he stretched you out so well and stimulated you just from being halfway in.

He pushes up into you to help you. You feel his cock buried deep inside you, running against your silky walls and pressing onto your sweet spot once more.

He curved into you so perfectly. You bite your lips and swivel your hips as you move up and down. He grabs your ass and brings it down onto him. 

He groans when you quiver around him and it is a low sound that you’ve never heard before, it’s almost animalistic.

But it’s hot, and pushes you closer to the edge.

Jaehyun watched your body shimmer in the low, warm lighting of the room. Your face is adorable, your skin is soft and glistens, you smell like vanilla. He wished he could have you like this forever, gliding down onto him, your breasts moving up and down as you whimper and moan from the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

You are his Heaven.

He thrusts up into you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as does your groans and cries.

Jaehyun fits you so perfectly, you’re on the brink of tears, you're weak and ride him sloppily as you chase your high.

Jaehyun knows this and flips you over onto your back in a swift move. He places your legs onto his shoulders and pushes into you. His hips slap against yours as he kisses you again.

He uses his ability to grow even more while inside you.

His eyes glow red but your eyes are closed as he fucks into you from above now.

“Jaehyun..fuck..” Tears escape your eyes. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably around his cock.

He runs his palm onto your belly and feels his cock twitch in the pit of your stomach. “I’m so deep inside you, do you like feeling me? Do you want me to release deep inside you?”

He moves faster.

You arch your back. “Fill me up, please, I want you inside me so badly.” You whimper out.

Jaehyun licks his thumb and places it onto your clit. He licks your breast again and sucks hard.

You cum hard and shake.

He climaxes as well, cumming deep inside you as you let out a stream of curses. You had never orgasmed so hard, but something about Jaehyun has you trembling for several minutes. He was able to deliver pleasure just as he was able to deliver pain in the underworld.

He rubs his thumb along the side of your sweaty face while watching his cum leak out of you.

“My love..would you like me to fuck you again?”

His voice is gravelly, but confident, for he already knows the answer.

You nod and within a few milliseconds you’re on your chest with your ass up in the air. Jaehyun pounds you into the bed and has you calling out his name several times that night.

You fall asleep after climaxing many times. You felt amazing, like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Jaehyun held you in his arms and cuddled you to sleep.

“Y/n..I’m happy you’re mine now.”

————

[The Next Day]

Jaehyun woke up to see that you left him, you had snuck out and drove back home.

You left a note for him explaining that you couldn’t be in a relationship with him for your heart belonged to Kun. 

“Thank you for being here for me, I am sorry for coming to you during my weakest moment. I hope you will respect my wish to not see you again, as I must remain steady in my marriage to Kun.

With Love, Y/n” 

Jaehyun crumbles up the note and sets fire to it in his hands. His horns grow large and his eyes beam red, furious is an understatement.

How could you do this to him? He made love to you, gave you the best love you’d ever had and you still went back to him.

He would make sure to ruin Kun, for if he couldn’t have you, no one else should.

————

[3 Months Later] 

Jaehyun was still hurt by you leaving him that night, but he knew there was nothing he could do. A part of him wanted you to be happy, but a part of him wanted to destroy Kun so he could have you all to himself.

He had planned to get rid of him until he discovered that you were pregnant. He wasn’t sure if the baby was his or Kun’s, but he did know that if he were to kill Kun you would potentially lose the baby from devastation. He couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t cause that pain even if he was satisfied by Kun’s death.

So he watches you from afar, imagining once again that it was him preparing for a baby instead of Kun.

The two of you looked happy, maybe it was the child that was making things different.

Either way, he hated seeing you so happy without him.

————

[8 Months Later]

You give birth to your son. You and Kun raise it together and take turns watching it during the night. 

One day, Jaehyun visits you while you cradle the baby at home alone.

You open the door and your smile falls.

Jaehyun, however, smiles harder when he sees your pretty face, glowing from the post pregnancy hormone changes.

Seeing you like this makes him want to get you pregnant all over again.

“J-Jaehyun?” You hadn’t seen him since that night, but he still looked good.

“Y/n..it’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

Something about him being there after so much time made you uneasy.

“Well..can I come in?” Jaehyun gives a half smile.

You nod and let him in.

You hold your baby and sit in a rocking chair. “So..what brings you here?”

“I’m here to see my child of course!”

Your brows furrow. “YOUR..child?”

Jaehyun smirks and steps closer to you. He smiles to himself as he looks at the baby.

“Come on, y/n, did you forget how many times I buried my seed into your beautiful cunt that night?”

You shook your head. “Don’t speak like that, please. I was weak, I-I was sad and broken..”

“Of course, but you loved it, you loved all of it.” He looked up to the ceiling and shut his eyes.

“I can still hear your moans right now.”

“Kun is the father, Jaehyun..this isn’t up for debate.”

“And if he’s not?” He tilts his head and looks back down at you.

“Well, he is. I’ll raise this child with my husband, regardless of who the biological father is, we have no place for you in this house.”

“Tsk tsk...keeping me away from my own child? Y/n..that’s not very nice of you, my love.”

“Don’t call me that!” Your voice rose slightly. “We had one night together, I don’t want to be with you, I will never be yours.”

“You’re already mine, y/n, you always will be, don’t you understand, after all these years?”

You shook your head. “Jaehyun.. you’re crazy. I’d like you to leave.”

You reached your hand out to grab your phone.

Jaehyun sees that you're nervous and chuckles to himself. “Oh..y/n..you’ve really made me upset. I guess I will just have to embrace my nature.”

He shuts the front door as you stare intently.

You always had a fear that the baby might be his, but how did he know you were pregnant in the first place?

————

[Two Days Later]

Jaehyun summons Lilith.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She appears to him with a slim body and dark hair this time. Her face is perfect like one of some celebrity, but God cursed Jaehyun’s vision so that when he looks at Lilith, he can only see an ugly monster. 

“I need you to take it.”

Jaehyun demands as sits on his throne in Hell. He tosses an apple in the air.

“Seduce the man and come back with the baby.”

“And what do I get out of it?” She places her hand on her hip.

“Nothing. But if you don’t do it, I will rip your fucking head off.” He looks up at her slowly. “Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Lilith scoffs then goes to do as she is told.

She appears to Kun who is half asleep on the couch in the living room. It’s his turn to watch the baby, so he can’t sleep completely.

“Hey there, big boy.” She says smoothly and crawls over him.

“Who—who are you?”

“My name’s Lilith.” She zips her leather jacket down to reveal her bare chest. “You look lonely, sweetheart.”

Kun is hypnotized by her, he doesn’t know if he’s awake or asleep, but he does know that he wants her badly. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” Lilith asks with doe eyes as she looks up at him and pumps her breasts.

Kun nods and soon finds himself enraptured by a succubus, burying himself into her and thus falling into her trap as you, his wife, lay sound asleep in the room above.

Once Lilith brings Kun to an extraordinary climax, he falls asleep.

She then walks upstairs slowly to the baby room.

Her appealing looks disappear and she transforms into her true being, a disturbingly ugly monster with grey skin and long legs and arms. Her bones crack as she grows to about 6 feet 6 inches tall, her black hair falls out onto the floor and her jaw protrudes as her eyes glow red. She smells like rotten eggs as green liquid oozes out of her pores and eyes.

She stares at the baby sleeping soundly in its crib.

You, however, wake up from the crackling sound.

“Kun?” You murmur.

You get up and walk to the baby room.

You nearly pass out from the stench and feel your legs grow weak when you see the ghastly being standing over your baby.

“Hey!” You call out, but when the thing turns around, it already has your baby in its arms. A wide creepy smile filled with about twenty sharp and misshapen teeth creeps across its face.

You start to cry. “Put him down!”

You run towards it but it disappears.

You grasp the crib and look into it, shifting the blankets around before looking under it.

Your baby was nowhere to be found.

You let out a painful scream that Jaehyun, and even your neighbors could hear and fell to the floor.

Kun finally woke up and ran upstairs. He consoled you as you cried uncontrollably.

———-

[One Month Later]

The police and everyone in the neighborhood helped you to search for your baby, but nothing happened. 

You tried to explain that night so many times, but nothing made sense and people just thought you were crazy.

Even Kun. He left you soon after the incident, the heartbreak was too much for him and he didn’t trust you. So he left you, moving further away and starting a new life without you as the divorce papers started to process.

You were alone, you couldn’t deal with the loss of your child. You sat alone at a pond and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore.

Jaehyun knew your time was running out, he knew you’d pass and eventually come to him to live with him in the dark world.

Your heart breaks and you die of sadness at the edge of the pond.

Your soul slips away from your body. 

Jaehyun is there watching as you stare down at it in confusion.

“Jaehyun?”

“Hello, y/n.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re with me now, where you should be.” He smiles as he goes to take your hand, but his hand passes through.

Jaehyun looks in confusion at his hand.

“Can you see me?” You ask.

“Of course I can. I should be able to touch you too, but..” he turns away and looks at his hand which is still vibrating like it had just been shocked with electricity.

“What’s happening?”

He turns back to you, but you’re gone.

“Oh, Lucifer..” a male voice calls out to him.

“You thought you had it all figured out, didn’t you? You would have her die then bring her to hell to live with you forever..”

“Winwin?” He recognizes the angel in front of him.

“I wish I could say it’s nice to see you again, but it really isn’t.”

“What the hell is going on? She’s mine!” He grows angry, his eyes becoming red and his horns growing out in harmony with his black wings.

“No, she isn’t. She belongs with us, remember God will always win.” Winwin smirks.

“No..no they can’t do this to me again!”

“Of course they can! Goodbye, LuLu!” Winwin then spins and disappears.

Jaehyun curses and shouts loudly, so loudly that the heavens can hear him. You can hear him, but now you realized who he really was and why he was so infatuated with you. It broke your heart that he went to such lengths to hold onto you, but now you knew that he was nothing but evil.

Jaehyun could feel you, he could sense you everywhere and sometimes he could see you, but he could never touch you again. He would have to live eternally as a tortured individual that lost his love 3 times.

“Well, at least you have the child.” Lilith looks at her nails as Jaehyun thrashes about in hell.

“What will you name him?”

Jaehyun smooths his hair back and walks to the crib that the baby sleeps in. “His name..is Cain.”

[jackrrabbit]

Short Leash /// Lev x f!Reader x Alisa (18+)

Summary: [Post-timeskip] The Haiba siblings get up to no good with their favorite pet.

A/N: Lev really went from skinny goblin to sugar папочка, and don’t even get me started on Alisa 😭 Also, imma lay heavy on those Russian terms of endearment 🇷🇺 I know Lev doesn’t speak Russian but I feel like post-timeskip he might, and it makes me horny so…

Dedicated to my eternal muse @koiibito​ for thirsting with me and stoking my lust for this duo and to @thisisthehardestthing​ for providing the fashion references that brought this fic to life for me (although I still can’t describe clothing for shit). Thank you!!!

Tags/warnings: (slight) pet play, threesome, alcohol/drug use mentions, size kink (yk Lev is 6’5 and Alisa is 5’10), dom/sub, orgasm control, rough sex, filming, breath play, crying, reader is a sugar baby in denial, no incest but the siblings fuck you together, yandere-ish, established BDSM relationship, all characters are adults

They like playing dress-up.

With you, if that wasn’t obvious. They’re models, so you could say that playing dress-up is a career for them, a method of putting food on the table…and Balenciaga in the closet…and every luxury pharmaceutical known to man in the medicine cabinet. And they’re so beautiful, both of them. They look good in anything. But when it comes to you, playing dress-up is a labor of love.

Today was Alisa’s turn, which means today was red: crimson lingerie in a box she had delivered to you before the party tonight. The box…it looked so out of place propped up against the bottom of your shabby apartment door that it’s a miracle no one stole it. Black packaging, lettering in gold, and the label printed on the box was French, you think? The two years of language class you took in high school didn’t help you read it, but you had no trouble understanding the number at the bottom of the receipt Alisa included with the set.

She left it on purpose, you know that. She wants you to know that the money she dropped on these flimsy little undergarments could have paid your rent for two months. But you can’t tell her that, or she’ll just insist again that your apartment is so small and ugly, it’s not worth it, it’s high time you moved in with her and Lev already, they would love to have you, and you’d never have to worry about rent again.

Spoiling you. That’s what they call it. Sometimes you think the Haiba siblings spoil you because they know it makes you uncomfortable.

Either way, you can’t say no. You’ve tried, over and over, told them they need to stop buying you clothes and shoes and diamonds but they just laugh you off. Lev, especially—he’s got this way of tipping his head to the side and blinking down at you while you try to explain how nervous it makes you to be dripping in excess, smiling lightly like he’s watching a child throw a tantrum. They just don’t get it. Or they do, and they think it’s funny.

Yeah, it’s probably the latter. You were raised right, raised not to accept gifts like this when you have nothing to give in return—but you were also raised to be gracious to the kindness of strangers, and while they aren’t exactly strangers, it’s just too exhausting to try to deny their generosity. Over time, little by little, you’ve given inches and the Haiba siblings have taken miles.

The Haiba siblings. That’s who they are, constantly presented in juxtaposition since Lev made his debut. They were born for this, and not because of their height. It’s the eyes—something savagely beautiful about that shade of green, those pale eyelashes, the slitted pupils like a cat’s.

The lingerie was Alisa’s choice, but the dress was Lev’s which is probably why he can’t keep his hands off you at the party, grip gliding down the low back and breath ghosting over your neck every time you try to put some distance between you. He’s usually more careful than this—Alisa can get away with the playful touching (groping?) because the cameras will just play it off as friendly skinship, but if someone catches Lev stroking across your thighs or tracing those long fingers over your spine while you move together on the dance floor, there’s going to be trouble. Not that it’s your problem, but one of you has to be responsible tonight, and judging by the number of times Lev’s excused himself to go to the bathroom and come back blinking and grinning and rubbing his nose, the responsible one is going to have to be you.

This time when he returns his gelled-back hair is mussed and—Jesus, how careless can he get?—there’s a little dusting of coke spilled over the collar of his black shirt. You roll your eyes and reach up to brush it off for him but he catches your hand and lifts it to his mouth. A kiss on your inner wrist first, and then his teeth are grazing over that tender skin, blunt edges digging in and drawing dents. A bite.

It’s just on the edge of painful when you belatedly yank your hand away. “Lev—you got it on your shirt, seriously—“ You try to make your voice sound scolding, but it comes out too high.

Lev’s eyes are dark, dilated; he laughs breathlessly and nudges closer to you, trapping you between his long arms and the bar. “You want some? Kotyonok, little kitten wants a treat?”

“No…I’m just drinking tonight. I don’t want to be out too late.” The vodka soda in your hand isn’t nearly strong enough, but if you have any more you’re going to be too drunk to keep your act together and deal with their antics. You don’t have the tolerance they do, and just because they can get away with all the coke and the alcohol and whatever else they’ve been playing with tonight doesn’t mean you can.

…Not that your relative sobriety stops Lev from dragging your face up to meet his, lifting your chin with both hands wrapped around the back of your head and bending down only enough that you still have to rise up on your tiptoes to kiss him. You only catch a hint of the smell of honey before the sour-sweet taste of Lev’s favorite drink (that medovukha mead stuff, it’s Russian, you think) is filling your mouth and his long tongue is sliding over yours. “Mmph—“

“Kitten, always so good,” he sighs, pressing closer so your face has to arch up to the ceiling to meet his. In your limited view you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he kisses you, sweeping over your tongue, biting your lip and laughing into your mouth. “So sweet…and impatient, yeah? Want to go home with us already?”

His hand on the small of your back is bunching your dress up, giving him the space to push his knee between your legs. You gasp sharply but it just eggs him on and his mouth dips down under your jawline, his body covering yours, so sudden and so public that your eyes flash around the room, wondering who might witness Lev—the international model Lev Haiba—sucking on your throat. “L-Lev, wait, someone—someone will see—“

“You’re asking to go somewhere private? Greedy girl…Alisa’s still having fun.”

You try to come up with a response, but it’s not easy to think straight when he’s holding your waist, circling it with those big hands and petting up to your ribs, cupping your tits while his thigh rubs between your legs. You can smell his cologne, bergamot and amber, and—and—you can smell his cologne—

“Lyovochka~” Alisa’s voice rings out and you know just by hearing it that she’s had as much as Lev. Her hand fists in her brother’s hair and pulls him off your neck none too gently, ignoring his curse and complaints. “Naughty, naughty. Playing without me, were you?”

“Alisa, you’re fucking up my hair,” Lev whines, but he straightens off you, pulling Alisa into your tight little trio at the bar. “Kitty says she wants us to take her home.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and wonder if they can see the blush under your foundation. “I didn’t— I can go home myself—“ Not that you have a chance in hell of leaving the party without them, but still. You can pretend to play coy.

“No.” Alisa places a finger on your mouth to shush you and then her eyes lower and her fingernail—painted silvery white, her signature color—pushes into your bottom lip. You stumble closer, hands meeting her shoulders through the thick white padding of the jacket she’s wearing, over the glittering crystals that look blindingly bright under the blacklights.

Silver and white. Always silver and white.

Her fingernail traces down your lip, drawing a fine line on your chin; on instinct, you tip your head back to give her access to pet down your throat until she comes to a rest on the neckpiece of the harness she included with the lingerie set. When her hand reaches the ring in the center of the choker she grips it, pulling your face away from Lev’s and toward hers. “Lyovochka, what do you think…? I saw it and thought of kotyonok. A collar for our little kitten.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I need to see more.” Lev’s hands are on you again now, splaying flat over your chest before his fingers curl, one by one, around the harness strap that leads from the ring at the choker down between your breasts until it disappears under the neckline of your dress. He’s tugging on it—lightly, but you can’t deny the feeling that it’s like a leash…or the feeling of heat gathering in your pussy at having the two of them all over you like this.

You shouldn’t be letting them touch you (and they are touching you, Alisa’s hand stroking your throat and Lev tugging your side into his chest). There’s always people watching at parties like this; you’ve attended these things on Lev’s arm or Alisa’s enough times to know better than to let them do as they please. You’re supposed to be the responsible one. Too bad your body is craving a lot more than the innocuous touches they can give you in public.

You swallow and Alisa grins, dark-painted lips stretching over those perfect white teeth. “So. Kitten, would you like us to take you home? Say please.”

You don’t have to say it. You could ask yourself why you let them get away with this, why you keep letting yourself fall to the mercy of these siblings, why they even want you in the first place, but those are questions for tomorrow morning—tonight, even though you should hate it, there’s a part of you that wants to purr every time they call you kitten.

“…Please,” you murmur, and as soon as the word is out Lev’s grip on the harness tightens, pulling the choker taut around your neck.

///

They end up ripping the dress.

You kind of hate them for it when you think about how many bills you could have paid with the money they spent dolling you up for tonight. But by the time they get around to it, you’re pretty much too horny to care.

They didn’t even wait til you got home (their home, you remind yourself, not yours), although that shouldn’t have surprised you. From Alisa tugging on your hair and Lev’s arm draped possessively around your shoulders, you should’ve seen it coming, but it still takes you by surprise that the three of you have barely piled in the back of the Uber when Alisa’s dragging you to sit on her thigh, unceremoniously pulling your dress over your hips and sliding her hand up the slit where the fabric falls open to rub your pussy.

You whine and squirm but can’t quite make yourself say the word “no”, instead squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on Alisa whispering in your ear that you’re a good girl, getting so wet for them. All three of you can hear the squishy damp noises your pussy is making sucking around her fingers, and dear god you hope the driver can’t hear it too—wait, is he looking? Your eyes peek open, traitorously seeking out the rearview to see if there’s a possibility he’s watching the show, but before you can work up the guts to tell them to quit it, Lev’s hand is folding around your jaw again and forcing two of his fingers past your lips for you to drool on. And—fuck—Alisa’s petting over your cunt, drawing slow lines up from the wetness gathered at your hole up to your clit.

By the time you’ve reached the building Lev and Alisa are staying at in Tokyo, you’re past the point of caring that other people are around. Lev has to pull you out of the car and off Alisa’s lap to get you to stop humping your ass into her lap and trying to push your mound into her fingers. Alisa winks at the driver—probably earning herself a 5-star rating despite all your bad behavior—and then the two of them are steering you past the doorman and into the elevator.

As soon as you’ve got the barest semblance of privacy, Lev pulls your back into his chest and grinds himself into you. You can feel how hard he is, the heat of his body leaching through the fabric of your clothing directly into your skin, hands around your waist forcing you to mold yourself into him while he layers kisses over the side of you neck. “L-Lev, ah— mm, someone’s gonna come in,” you whine as he pushes the bulge of his stiff cock against your lower back, but he just lets one of his hands drift up to scratch at the choker of the harness again.

Alisa’s hands meet your cheeks on either side, framing your face for a short moment so she can study your dazed expression, the flush on your cheeks, your sex-glazed eyes. You look like you want to get fucked, you know that? You look like you want them to push you down in the elevator and fuck you right there. “But kotyonok, you’re so darling. We should let other people get a chance to see, no?”

Lev’s hand spans the breadth of your throat, not quite pressing down (yet), so he must be able to feel the way your muscles contract and release when you swallow—not to mention the edge of tension that enters your body at the thought of someone seeing you in such a compromising position. “Ahh, kitty wants to be all ours, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want us to share.”

“Is that so?” Alisa doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just tipping your face up and letting her lips close over yours. She tastes more bitter than Lev did and for the brief moment you have between getting pressed between them and your brain short-circuiting, you wonder what she’s been drinking. “Are you being selfish?”

“Nnnh, I—“ you don’t have an answer for her, but it doesn’t really matter because the elevator is dinging at the penthouse and Alisa’s pulling you away from Lev into their apartment by the center strap of the harness. You’ve got no choice but to follow, and you consider telling her to quit dragging you around by your neck but there’s something about the pressure on your throat that isn’t…entirely unpleasant, so you hold your tongue.

Lev murmurs to Alisa in Russian—you hate when they do that, especially because you know they’re only doing it because they don’t want you to understand—and then you’re in the spare bedroom, the one that the siblings insist on referring to as your bedroom. Even though you don’t live here. Even though you do everything you can to avoid staying here. Even though the only times you ever spend the night are when you’re too fucked-out by the two of them to consider putting in the effort to get home.

Something tells you this is going to be one of those nights.

They work in sync, teasing down the straps of your dress and easing you out of it until Alisa snaps the harness between your tits and Lev gets impatient and someone pulls the back of the dress a little too hard and that’s when you feel tearing. “Shit,” you hear in Lev’s voice, a soft curse in Russian from Alisa, and then a reluctant peal of laughter as the dress flutters down to the ground.

“Did you—“ You’re about to curse them out for ruining something so fucking expensive, but Lev clucks his tongue and shakes his head and you fall silent. He’s pulling back from you—so is Alisa—and your heart jumps for a second wondering if you did something wrong until you realize they’re just looking at you, drinking in the image of you naked except for the lingerie Alisa picked out for you.

“Bordelle?” Lev murmurs, running fingers down the straps cinching around your waist, the belt holding up the garters—as usual, you don’t know whether to move away from his touch or melt into it.

Alisa smiles. “It was made for her, don’t you think? Our kitten looks good in red.”

Honestly, they call you kitten, but the way they look at you is less like the way owners look at a pet and more like wolves sizing up a little lamb they’ve cornered. Hungry. Starving. You’re not sure which you prefer, but it makes you self-conscious. You’d felt pretty confident about the way you looked when you examined yourself in the mirror before the party—Alisa has good taste, even if the lingerie is just this side of bondage gear and not something you would’ve bought for yourself in a million years—but now you have to fight the urge to cover yourself up with your hands…not that they’d let you.

True to your prediction, as soon as your hand twitches with the instinct to cross your arms over your bound-up tits Lev snaps down to catch it. “Let me see,” he instructs, and the authority in his voice is so definite that your arms fall back down to your sides automatically. “Good girl. Alisa, do you think we can keep it on while we fuck her?”

While we fuck her.

He says it so nonchalantly. And it’s not like you didn’t know that’s what you’re here for. You’re a grown-up, you’re sober (ish), and you’ve been in this room with the two of them enough times that you’re well aware there was only ever one way this night was going to end up. But the way he says it makes you shiver. They’re going to fuck you…like they own you. And it’s kind of terrifying how much you want to be owned.

“I think we can get the panties off without taking off the rest,” Alisa says to respond to Lev’s question, even as she brushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “Besides, I have a surprise for her.”

A surprise? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them has pulled out something unexpected in bed—last time it was a ball gag and nipple clamps, and the time before that it was a magic wand vibrator (plated in literal gold, because the Haibas are nothing if not excessive) that had you begging and crying and creaming all over the sheets. You can’t help your anxiousness as Alisa pulls something out of the otherwise-empty dresser and sets it up to face the bed.

It’s…a camera. A camera? “You want to film it?” you blurt out, your voice sounding pitchy and nervous even to your own ears.

“Great idea,” Lev says, patting your head like that’s all it’ll take to make you feel better.

“Yes, kotyonok. I’m going to film you,” Alisa replies, fiddling with the settings and batting those long blonde eyelashes at the lens once she’s satisfied.

“Wait, I—I don’t know. I’m not like you, I can’t just—” you stammer. Sure, the twins will look perfect and irresistible and bewitching, but you? You’re not sure you want to have a video of yourself getting fucked stupid in their hands. “What if I don’t want to…?”

“But I want to.” Alisa’s gaze sweeps down over you and you lower your eyes so you don’t have to meet it, don’t have to feel the weight of it holding you down more securely than any leash. There’s a reason she’s a model—she could sell anything. Those eyes. How are you supposed to say no?

You want to step back away from her. You almost try, but Lev’s at your back already, long arms draped over your shoulders, a loose hold that nonetheless keeps you from moving. So instead of backing up, you just bite your lip.

Alisa’s face softens—she’s good at that, good at picking up the cues when she’s pushed a little too far for your comfort—and a second later you feel her hand wrapping around yours, holding it. “Safeword?”

Cherry. The safeword is cherry. It’s not that you’ve forgotten. It’s her way of reminding you that you have a safeword, and you can use it, and it’ll be okay. This isn’t even a full-on scene, but Alisa must be able to sense that the addition of the camera made you scared.

Picking up the change in mood a second later, Lev’s hand finds your other one and he strokes his thumb over your skin reassuringly. God, maybe it’s wrong that they can make you feel hunted one second and adored the next, but you let out a breath and relax, shaking your head to indicate that you’re not stopping.

She brings your hand up to her mouth and kisses it so lightly her lipstick barely leaves a mark—wait, oops. You’d forgotten she was wearing lipstick. You must have it all over you by now.

“Good girl. We take good care of you, don’t we?”

“…Yes.”

“We do.” Lev’s impatient, you can tell from the way he’s adjusting his grip to your waist and pushing you over to the bed. “We’re not going to share the video, if that’s what you’re worried about. Alisa likes to joke, but really…”

Your ass hits the mattress so you’re half-sitting, half-lying on the covers, propped up on your elbows, peeking through your eyelashes at the two of them looming over you—and, oh, there they are again.

The wolves.

“…we don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” Alisa finishes, holding up the camera and flicking the little red light on to record.

///

Lev starts, like usual. You think maybe it’s a control thing, that Alisa doesn’t let you touch her until you’re already falling apart on Lev’s fingers, his tongue…his cock. As much as she likes it when you bite back, you’re cuter when you’re begging.

She’s holding your face off the bed by a hand under your chin, wrenching your neck back so your wrecked face is level with the camera. You’re on your hands and knees—or, more accurately, your hands and elbows, with your ass arched up and Lev’s face buried in your slit. “Nngh, nnnnn, fuck please please—“ Your whining is barely coherent, but Lev knows what you’re asking for and he digs his fingers into the meat of your ass to hold you still as he latches his mouth over your clit and sucks.

Fuck— you keen and try to drop your head down to the sheets to angle your dripping cunny closer to his mouth, but Alisa’s grip on your jaw prevents you from getting any further out of the camera frame. “Uh-uh, no. I want to see you.”

“Alisa…ahhh…” Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth and you know you must look like a mess, spit practically falling over your lips as you try to stop yourself from cumming right here. Fuck, it feels good, feels so hot and wet that your juices don’t even have time to cool on your thighs before more is dripping down.

“Tell the camera what’s happening, kotyonok,” Alisa purrs, wiping the saliva off your lip and then pushing her fingers over your tongue.

“…eating me out, he’s—uhhhn—licking my pussy…” you slur around her fingers. Your glassy eyes flit between her appraising expression and the lens of the camera—even though you trust that they won’t show the video to anyone outside this room, it’s making you shudder to think about what’s on the little screen you can’t see—Alisa’s pretty silver fingernails coated in your drool as she presses them deeper into your throat, your body all bound up in red straps and gold fastenings, and Lev behind you, hair falling out of its careful style as he shoves his face deeper between your legs.

The edge of Alisa’s finger bites into the plush of your lip as you moan and unsuccessfully attempt to wriggle your ass under Lev’s grip. “Who’s licking your pussy?” she asks calmly, like she’s asking what the weather is like today.

“Lev, it’s, it’s Lev—fuck ohh, oh,” you whine as Lev slides his tongue flat from your clit up to your hole and pushes the slimy wet muscle inside. It’s so long, you’re never going to get used to how stupid long his tongue is, licking out your walls and making slurping sounds that are downright fucking vile.

Heat is gathering quickly in your abdomen, and you can feel it—that plateau rising before you hit your peak, and the tension in your thighs making them twitch and quiver as your muscles contract in anticipation—and his tongue is so long and thick it’s almost reaching your g-spot, almostalmostalmost, god-fucking-damnit. Your spine curls even further, arching yourself into him, wordlessly begging for him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. “Gonna cum, fuck Lev please make me, make me cum!”

“Oh? Did I say you were allowed to cum?” Alisa asks, cat-like eyes narrowing.

Shit, fuck, she didn’t, but you don’t know if you can help yourself. Your hand fists in the sheet, curling your fingernails around the fabric to try to ease up the heat where Lev’s mouth is latched to your cunt. “Please Alisa—I need to—“

Alisa shakes her head. “But you don’t get to decide what you need, kotyonok.”

She’s right, but—but, it’s not fair, Lev’s switching between dragging his tongue over your clit and fucking you with it—you try to pull your hips away from his mouth but he doesn’t let you, effortlessly holding you in place while he teases you even higher.

“Who decides?” she continues, petting your jawline and wiping away the first hint of a tear from your cheek as you try to hold it back—

but you can’t.

“You-you decide! You decide when I cum!” you gasp, but your body is already betraying your words, convulsing and contracting as your climax hits you like a truck. You try to hold yourself through it but it’s impossible—your eyes roll back and arms go slack, dropping flat on the bedspread with your ass still pushed up into the air as your pussy walls contract around Lev’s tongue.

He’s still licking you—slower now at least, but you’re shaking at the feeling of him stimulating that sensitive bud. “Stop…too much,” you whine weakly, but he just raises a hand off your ass cheek to give it a light smack.

“Bad kitty,” he murmurs with his mouth still pressed against your slit, and the contact makes you seize up and twitch.

“Yes. Very bad.” Alisa doesn’t look angry—she’s never angry with you, even when you’re…disobedient, you guess—but there’s a note of mischief in her eyes that sends a thrill of fear (and not just fear) down your spine.

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry,” you whimper, but Alisa’s already pulling you upright by the ring on your choker.

“Did you cum? Even though we didn’t give you permission?” she asks, even though all three of you know you did. You nod, avoiding looking at both her and the camera as if that’ll disguise the obvious flush painting your cheeks red. At your admission, she smiles indulgently and murmurs something in Russian that you don’t understand, but you get the gist.

You’ve been naughty. And you’re going to get punished.

You hear the bedsprings squeak and feel the dip of the mattress as Lev climbs up behind you, settling his body against yours so the bulge in his pants is pressed against your back again. He’s still wearing most of his outfit from the party—they both are, and you note (not for the first time) how ridiculous it is that the siblings are willing to fuck you together but being naked in front of one another is the one boundary they won’t cross—but you don’t have to wait long before you hear him undoing his pants and pulling his cock out to rut it lazily against your back.

Automatically you shift your legs apart and reach down to finger yourself like you usually do, stretch your cunt out so you’re ready to take him. But before you can reach your pussy, Lev’s hand is folding over yours and lacing his fingers over your hand to stop you. “L-Lev?”

“No, kitty,” he tells you firmly.

You shiver. Alisa pinches your cheek and rubs over your ear. “What…”

“You already came,” Lev continues, and then you feel his cock sliding between your thighs, between your soaking-wet lips, using your cum as lubrication. “You came, so you don’t need to get ready. You’re going to take all of me, okay?”

All of him. You swallow. The full length slowly rubbing between your legs is going to go inside of you, without any preparation beforehand. “But…if I don’t, it’ll—it’s gonna hurt…”

“Yes, it’s going to hurt.” He waits for a moment, giving you a chance to say the safeword, but you don’t. “It’s going to hurt, and then it’ll feel good, and then you’re going to cream yourself on my cock like always. Yes?”

“Uh—“ You blink rapidly, already feeling his cockhead pushing between your lips toward your hole. Alisa combs your hair out of your face and you turn toward her. “Alisa?”

“Don’t ask her. You need to learn that your owners will take care of you. You need to trust us.” Lev presses in, stretching your little cunt around the thick head, and you suck in a sharp inhale.

“A-Ah—it’s too big,” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut and biting your lip as he slides himself deeper into you. And yeah, it hurts…but with how riled up you are, it definitely doesn’t hurt enough for you to want it to stop. The burn from the stretch is just making you wetter, and the feeling of being filled up by him is unbelievable. This was supposed to be a punishment, right?

Alisa cups your face to kiss you gently, and then her hands drift lower to circle your neck. Lev’s still sliding his cock into your pussy, slowly, slowly, so you can feel everything, every inch of his skin and every vein dragging against your g-spot. The deeper he gets, the more it hurts and the more you want to stop him, to take the lead—but he doesn’t let you.

“Are you going to cry, kitten?” Alisa asks you, reaching down to take one of your hands and pull it over her shoulder so you’re holding her. You grit your teeth and shudder and shake your head, making her lips quirk into a smile. “It’s alright if you cry. You’re still cute when you’re crying.”

With another roll of his hips Lev’s pushing up against your cervix and you choke out a curse. “F-Fuck, I’m not—not gonna c-c-cry…”

“Shh…” Upright on his knees behind you, Lev’s body is so big curled over yours that you feel smothered between him and Alisa. You sneak a glance back and there’s a pale pink flush over his cheeks and shoulders. “You’re taking me so well…taking my cock like that, going to make me forget you were bad…”

You stay still because it hurts more when you try to move, and you need to get yourself adjusted. You have to relax, you have to, but he’s so big, heavy and thick between your aching legs. You still haven’t recovered from cumming earlier, and every time one of the aftershocks hits you and you clench around him, the mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much. Even as aroused as you are, your cunt sucking him in for all you’re worth, he’s pushing against your cervix…and his hips haven’t even hit yours yet. He hasn’t bottomed out.

You’re going to take all of me, he said. You’re not even sure you can. But no matter what, you’re not—you’re not—gonna cry.

Until Lev pulls his hips back, sliding his cock out of you so it’s only his head sheathed at the entrance to your cunt, and then snaps forward again, filling you back up in a single stroke. He knocks into you so forcefully that you jerk forward, your chest mashing into Alisa’s. The force and his weight pulls a squeak out of you and—fuck, fuck—you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“—t-t-too fast,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as if that’ll prevent them from getting glossy. The pads of Alisa’s fingers are skimming over your cheeks, and her skin is so soft and silky that you want to nuzzle in for comfort.

“But Kotyonok likes it fast, doesn’t she?…you feel how wet you are on my—my cock?” Lev’s face nudges against your shoulder, and you can feel his hands curling around your upper arms, securing you underneath him, holding you in place as he pounds into you.

You like it…like it fast? Your head is spinning, you’re dizzy and hot and feverish, Lev’s cologne is mixing with Alisa’s perfume and you feel like you’re drinking it, ugh. Fuck. Feels like you’re getting bruised up inside and it feels good. Your legs are jerking, weakly trying to push yourself back on his cock to make him fill you up deeper than your pussy can take but you’re totally at their mercy.

“Let her down, Lyovochka. I want kitty to lick,” Alisa says, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with her brother. She shifts back on the bedspread, easing herself into the pillows and pushing the skirt of her dress up over her waist to expose her panties: mesh, lace, powder-pink. They’re so pretty against her pale skin that you just stare down at her for a second, open-mouthed, before Lev’s releasing his grip on your arms and splaying his palm into your back, shoving your face down toward her lap.

You catch yourself on your elbows—barely—but you don’t have time to adjust to the new position and how stupid fucking goddamn deep Lev’s cock is hitting you before Alisa’s pulling your face up closer to her clothed pussy and adjusting her thighs to make room. Is she going to keep the panties on? Fuck—you almost ask her to take them off but you know you aren’t allowed so you just angle your face in and let drool coat your tongue so you can try to lap at her pussy through the fabric.

The awkward angle means you can barely taste her, but fuck, what you can taste is so good—they’ve conditioned you, the two of them, conditioned you like Pavlov’s dogs to crave what they’re doing to you so badly you can’t even think. The slightly-bitter taste of her cunt soaking through to your mouth has you intoxicated. She got like this from watching you, watching you cum all over the pretty lingerie she bought you, watching you get fucked so hard you’re crying. The thought of her getting off on watching you squirm makes your pussy clench around Lev’s cock.

“Gonna cum again?” Lev asks with laughter in his voice; his pace slows, dragging out the stimulation to your g-spot right as you feel him reach down to tease over your clit. You squeak out a denial but he doesn’t believe you—and why would he when he can literally hear the nasty wet noises from your pussy eating up his cock? “Yes…you are."

“I’m—n-no, I’m noooot…”

“Poor baby, can’t control herself.” Alisa’s pushing you back into her cunt, fingernails scraping over your scalp as you desperately try to lick her pussy. “Don’t be cruel, Lev.”

Another laugh, low and raspy and juddering from the pace of his cock stretching your walls and pushing against that sweet spot inside you. “I’m not the cruel one.”

They’re both cruel, you think, but that’s the only thing going through your mind because you’re pretty sure you’re going to go fucking crazy, your pussy is so hot you feel like you’re melting around him but you keep at Alisa’s cunt because you want to be good, want to be their good girl, want to be their good little kitty.

You want to be theirs.

“Please—please, can I, can I? Please let me, please I need you to let me…” you beg—somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’re going to hate yourself for giving in to them tomorrow but you want it so so so bad and you can’t cum without their permission, you can’t, you can’t be bad again.

“Well…what do you think, Alisa? Has she earned it?” There’s a growl in Lev’s voice—is he holding himself back? Yesss… He’s slowing down, fucking you up from the inside and the outside, pulling that heat out of you, making you squeal and whine and plead just like he said he would.

You want to, you need to, need to earn it, be good make Alisa feel good earn it—fuck, you have to try harder, and you flutter your tongue over her clit through her panties as well as you can, knowing you’re being sloppy but you don’t know how to help it. She waits a long moment and then sighs, pulling her fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face so you can look up at her, those pretty pretty eyes looking down at yours so indulgently. Adoringly. Like you’re something to be cherished. “Mm…yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

Your mouth falls open and your pussy does something, convulsing—

“—cumming I’m cumming Lev, A-Alisa—“

fuck, can’t breathe why can’t you breathe? something digging into your throat—

Lev’s, Lev’s hand under the choker dragging you upright tightening cutting off the sounds coming out of your mouth, choking your scream into a pathetic little mewl so he can hold your body up next to him while he fucks you through your climax—you can feel your face turning pink, your cunny holding around him, squeezing him so tight he can barely move but he still does, hips thrusting against your ass, the pleasure so bright and heavy you’re seeing sparks, head rushing, or maybe that’s just the lack of oxygen,

too tight the choker’s too tight you bring your hand back and tap against Lev’s and he lets go immediately. “Shit—sorry, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

You can feel him pulling out, and just that movement is enough to set off another round of clenching in your pussy. You’re sputtering, throat contracting in time with your cunt, not too painful. Just raw.

“Try to breathe, (Y/N),” Lev repeats, stroking down your back to soothe you. He sounds worried, and…that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s been a while since you heard one of them actually say your name instead of just kitten or kitty or kotyonok. It’s not like you can really bother pretending you’re not at least a little bit into the nickname, but hearing your real name out of his mouth stokes some kind of soft, nervous pleasure in you. And goddamn, you do not have the brainpower to analyze why.

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath—the air tastes sweeter than it did a minute ago—and then you roll over. “Did...did you cum?”

Lev shakes his head. You turn toward Alisa, and she just pats your cheek—of course she didn’t cum. Which means you’ve gotten to cum twice, and you didn’t get either of them off.

You bite your lip, turn to the side, and try not to let your eyes water for the—third? fourth?—time tonight. “I’m sorry, I—I’ll do it again, I’ll be better—“

“No,” Alisa says gently, adjusting her position to sit next to you and kiss your forehead. “You were so good, (Y/N).”

Lev mirrors her actions on the other side so you’re bracketed by the two of them. After a second of stillness to gauge your comfort, he starts undoing the clasps at the back of the choker and massaging his fingers over the tender skin underneath. You sniffle and then feel him lay his chin on the top of your head, arrange his arm over your side. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You know we like you no matter what, right?”

Alisa nods in agreement, pupils coming to a rest on the skin of your throat as she helps Lev remove the tangle of red satin straps from your body. “Our perfect little kitten. Who’s a good girl?”

Kitten.

Your stomach drops. Not your name. Just kitten.

It must be the twentieth time she’s called you that tonight, but somehow this time it’s different. You cringe, feeling cold where she touches you, but that doesn’t stop her from wiping away the smeared mascara and tear tracks from your cheeks. When you try to flinch away from her, Lev huffs out an annoyed breath and pushes you back into place. “Myesto. Stay.”

It’s a command. Like you would give to an animal. When you freeze, Alisa smiles and then she’s tilting your chin up with her fingers and bringing the camera—the camera, you forgot about the camera—to your throat so she can capture the mess of pink lines and indentations from where the choker bit into your neck…

…and who are you kidding? It’s not a choker, it’s a fucking collar. And you’re not their lover, or their girlfriend, or even their fuckbuddy.

You’re their pet.

[since0202]

Taking Time—Forty

A side dish of surprise

Your past will always catch up with you. No matter if you leave it behind, it will always become part of your present again at some point. Rearing its ugly head at a seemingly inopportune time, or welcoming you back under its fold like a weighted blanket to keep you in place and on your destined path. But what if the past is...complicated? What if the path that you chose in your past no longer fits into your future? And what if you left your past self and everything in it behind for a reason? Does it still impact your future? My ancestors would say yes. But I don’t think they ever dreamed of a future where sworn enemies become unnatural friends or a scenario where you must always bend and but never break.

Maya found herself sitting at a too grand table at Emily’s house for their pack gathering feast. No one had come to sit outside with her though and the wind was biting at her bare shoulders.

Where is Paul? She wondered as she let her eyes scan the treeline that backed up Emily and Sam’s property.

The table was empty save for her plate and when she looked down at it, a single frost covered leaf lay in the center of it. From within the house, she could hear murmuring, cheerful laughter, warmth, but she didn’t go inside. Instead, she stayed rooted to her chair, scanning the forest and wondering, He should be here.

Just as it began to get dark, Maya heard laughter bubbling toward the back door and she turned to look over her shoulder to see the broad figure of Jacob with Becks tucked under his massive arm. Maya gave a small smile and Becks, who had been laughing and looking at the ground, raised her eyes to meet hers and returned the smile. Maya finally stood up as they drew closer, but knew they weren’t alone.

Where is Paul?

Jacob was looking over his shoulder at the added company and talking, as Becks kept her eyes glued forward, a permanent smile on her face. When they finally reached Maya, they parted to reveal a figure, with stark red eyes, almost burning in the dark. Maya sucked in a sharp breath, ready to scream, as she felt an icy cold chill settle in her belly.

Only then did she realize, the sounds of laughter within hadn’t been laughter at all, but screams, and a pool of blood was now leaking from the door and down the porch steps behind the red-eyed figure. Maya felt the scream rise and burn in the back of her throat only to be met with the lightning fast hand that gripped her throat to silence her.

Maya jerked awake in the cool, darkened room that was beginning to brighten with the cold blue light of early morning. The icy grip she had felt tightening around her throat had evaporated as she realized that it was a dream and Paul….Paul was right here. When she had startled awake, she felt his grip around her back tighten ever so slightly, instinctively, but now as she breathed a little easier, his hand softened and his quiet, even breathing filled the room.

Maya cuddled closer, pressing the front of her body flush against his side as she draped her arm across his chest and laid her head in the crook of his neck. His arm that wound around her responded and tightened her against him as his hand rubbed along her hip absently. His breathing never changed though and Maya settled back into the comfortable quiet of him as she tried to shake off the image of the burning red eyes in her dream.

“My, let’s go!” Paul called up the stairs as he fastened a watch around his wrist and threaded a button through the cuff of his green plaid jacket lined with thick sherpa wool. After a few seconds, the soft clop of Maya’s heeled boots could be heard coming down the stairs. She was affixing a gold hoop earring into her left ear.

“We match,” Maya said with a feigned look of surprise. Paul humored her, raising an eyebrow and letting his eyes coast the length of her body. She was wearing a dark green cropped knit sweater that showed the smallest sliver of skin at her waist before making way to her long, curved legs sheathed in tight black jeans. The light brown suede boots ended just above her ankles and gave her a good three inches of new height. Paul couldn’t help himself wrapping an arm down around her back and letting his broad hand squeeze the curve of her ass stuffed into those skin tight jeans. He leaned forward and chuckled pressing a kiss to her forehead before saying in a low voice,

“We do match. How did that happen I wonder?” Maya smiled up at him, holding onto the opening of his jacket and pressing a kiss to his throat. Whether it was intentional or not, Paul noticed that Maya would try to incorporate the same color or a complementing one into her outfit when she peeked at what he wore. He assumed it made her feel more in step with him considering how she had felt since she got home—seemingly disconnected from her home. But she was feeling warmer, more settled now, despite the growing anxiety Paul felt between them as the fall break began drawing to a close. He’d avoided thinking about letting her out of his arms, back onto that plane, and flying nearly 3,000 miles away from him. His hands ached at the thought and so he ran them up and down the back of her ass a few times before giving one cheek a quick, gentle slap.

“You ready?” he asked as she grinned up at him widely with that warm, honey look of love.

She nodded, excitement brimming behind her eyes and he led her outside to the forerunner after helping her into her thick coat.

The gathering at Sam and Emily’s was boasted as a family gathering, which meant the invitation was extended not just to the pack but everyone they considered family as well. When Paul and Maya arrived, the clearing in front of the expanded bungalow was already packed with vehicles. Maya could hardly contain her excitement as she jumped down from the car and quickly took Paul’s hand as he came around the hood of the car and started pulling him toward the door. When she pushed open the front door, her eyes wide with expectation, she was not disappointed by the howling greeting of hellos and “You’re here!” as she was scooped up and spun around into the arms of Paul’s brothers.

“Ladies and gentleman, the biggest brain in the room,” Embry joked and Maya dropped into a lazy curtsy. Emily pushed her way through the throng, her pregnant belly clearly protruding from her before wrapping Maya into a warm hug, “Welcome home, we missed you!” she said softly into her hair. Maya blinked back the tears that she felt threatening to form at the corners of her eyes and grinned like an idiot.

The house was packed—not only were Paul’s brothers there, but Embry’s grandparents, Sue Clearwater, Chief Black, Quil’s mother, and the parents of a few younger members of the pack were all stuffed into every corner of the home. And it was clear that not everyone had arrived yet. As Maya was pulled into conversation about her time away at college, Paul mingled in with some of the pack’s family members to allow Maya to be surrounded by his brothers and their imprints. Her head was spinning a little bit but when Seth and Sadie showed up to cheers of congratulations, and Keye barreled through the door nearly tackling Maya in a prolonged hug that left her void of breath. She couldn’t have felt more at home if she tried.

The room was buzzing with conversation when Jacob and Becks sauntered through the door looking rosy. Maya watched as Jacob tightened his grip on Becks’ hip as he nodded at Chief Black and gave a quick, “Dad.” in confirmation. Chief Black smiled back genuinely, and gave Becks a satisfied look that she pretended not to notice before locking eyes with Maya. Her face flooded with hesitance, but Maya crossed the room quickly and pulled her out of Jacob’s one armed grip into a tight hug. Becks let out a loud huff of air followed by a squeal of excitement as she returned the hug. Keye was quick to join in and Maya struggled to keep it together again.

She hadn’t realized the hole that had been forming within her after she’d left for college. She thought things were going to be easy, that coming back wouldn’t feel like taking the first gulp of fresh air that she’d had in awhile, but she’d been wrong. She hadn’t realized how her family, this family, with Paul and Becks and the pack, were the ones that connected her to who she was becoming. She hadn’t quite lost the thread of herself in New York, but new pieces of her were being pasted over the old Maya that she knew and she'd realized a little too late that it had been slowly peeling parts of her away. She’d have to find a better balance between La Push and school to stay connected to this part of her and ensure she never felt like this when coming home again.

As timers announced rolls were ready and pots bubbled over with delicious sauces, potatoes and corn, and more, Maya, Becks and Keye, found themselves sitting on the floor of the open living room with a few pack members, Sadie, Kim, and Sam’s son Luca and daughter Lenora. Paul had ambled over amidst his conversation with Chief Black to hand Maya a glass of wine which she took gratefully as they all crowded around a board game spread out on the floor. Becks was answering questions about her first semester at Northwestern and how she was liking her courses. She was studying architecture and had gone to a department mixer the week before that had her seriously reconsidering her major after she joked that the schools soccer team had ambled into the bar they had occupied. Jacob, within earshot rolled his eyes and carried on his conversation with Sam and Quil near the kitchen as Maya tried to stifle a laugh. Seems like she wasn’t the only imprint who liked to drive her partner crazy.

When the front door tentatively creaked open, a few heads whipped toward it. Maya didn’t think another person could possibly fit in this tiny bungalow, but her eyes widened with surprise when a shaggy haired Jeremy ambled through the door, nodding his head and trying to quell a smile as Seth, Embry, and Jared shouted an exuberant hello. Maya jumped to her feet, completely overwhelmed and flung herself at him. She hadn’t seen him since the day after Jacob had imprinted on Becks at Paul’s party. He caught her easily, but was surprised when she clamped her mouth shut around a breaking sob.

“Jer!” she said into the side of his head. Jeremy laughed a little and nearly crushed her in a hug.

“How’s my favorite fake girlfriend?” he said. His voice sounded different, thinner, as if words were an effort, but Maya didn’t care just then. She pulled back to look at his face and beamed. Jared clapped Jeremy on the shoulder and he set Maya down as his brothers began crowding around him save for Paul, Sam, and Jacob of course.

“Man, what the hell! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Jared crowed.

“Long time no see,” Seth said with a spark of gratitude in his eyes. Maya kept her eyes glued to Jeremy’s face as it filtered through moments of appreciation, recognition, fleeting happiness and then quick flashes of pain. Her hand gripped his forearm in consolation but he gave her a pained smile and just shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys can’t get rid of me yet,” Jeremy said offhandedly as he scanned the faces before him, careful not to linger on any outside of his immediate circle.

“Alright!” Emily’s voice echoed over the crowd and a hushed silence fell save for a few laughs and mumbles, “Gather and distribute people! We’ve got the table set up outside with a bunch of heat lamps, but bundle up if you’re prone to being cold.”

Brady jerked Jeremy under his arm and jostled him forward as Maya watched everyone begin to crowd into the kitchen to grab a food dish to bring to the table. Becks hurried into Jacob's side and as she shot him a worried look. Jacob ran a reassuring hand down Beck's cheek and murmured reassurances that Maya couldn't hear. Paul sauntered over and scooped up her empty wine glass she’d left in the living room.

“Feeling good?” he asked with a grin. Maya let out a satisfied breath and smiled up at him.

“Yeah, really good. Feels like home,” she admitted easily. He nodded and kissed the top of her head before rubbing her lower back.

“Good, let’s go have some more fun,” his eyes were determined and Maya felt her stomach drop.

He had been working so hard to make her feel better and the swell of gratitude and love in her stomach pressed against her lower belly again, much as it did when he looked at her in the taco shop the other night with Seth and Sadie when Sadie had asked about kids. Maya absently fingered the promise ring on her right hand and pushed it around the base of her middle finger. Paul’s face crept into a slow awakened smile as if he could see what she was thinking when Maya herself couldn’t even collect her own thoughts long enough to know what she was thinking. Instead, she just allowed this warmth, what she could only recognize as their imprint anchored bond, fill her up.

Paul placed one warm hand on the line of her jaw, his thumb stroking the expanse of her soft cheek that was pricking with pink and leaned his face slowly toward hers. Maya’s heart accelerated, her hand coming to circle his wrist as if this was the first time she was being kissed like this when in reality, Paul had kissed her like this many times. But something about how she felt now, enveloped in this home with her family and Paul anchored easily to her side, made her see everything so much clearer than she had before she left for Columbia.

Just as Paul’s lips brushed the tips of hers, a gentle smile still playing at his lips, there was a soft knock behind them. Paul’s eyes pulled across Maya’s face, her eyes wanting and needy. He nudged his nose gently against hers before straightening and crossing the living room to the front door. Maya took a few steps to follow him, placing both of her hands in the back pockets of her tight black jeans and as Paul pulled the door open, the chill of the sea breeze sliced through the air and cut Maya to the bone. She was briefly reminded of the cold she felt in her dream last night, the sharp red eyes, the laughter turning into screams—but she shut her eyes quickly to shake away that image. When she looked back at Paul, his entire body had hardened in what she could only assume was defense and Maya automatically took a step closer to him.

“Well if it isn’t big ole Paul Lahote! I didn’t think you could get any bigger from the last time I saw you, but they sure do feed you boys out here pretty good,” a comforting laugh could be heard coming from the doorframe. Maya raised her eyebrows in confusion, unable to discern what could be the cause for Paul’s alarm at such a kind and warm voice, but she couldn’t see around his giant frame to get a good look at the visitor.

“When did you get back?” Paul said in a tone of forced interest.

“Ah well, it felt like it was time and I heard Jake made his way back too. Billy called,” he said. Strange. Maya thought. She didn’t recognize the voice that dripped with so much familiarity for her family which meant maybe he wasn’t from the rez. As if on cue, Chief Black clambered through the back door that led to the festivities that lay beyond it and bellowed a greeting.

“I thought I heard a deserter!” he said, clasping his hands together. Paul stepped away from the door revealing an older man in a grey shirt and tartan plaid long sleeve. His face was friendly, if worn, and his hair was a pleasing salt and pepper gray, tinging the same around the corners of his prominent mustache. Paul immediately closed the two steps toward Maya and pulled her away from the door, closer to the living room, slotting her into his side, almost trying to keep her from the new arrival’s field of view. Maya, still confused, looked up to Paul’s face to try and discern some silent explanation but none came.

“Charlie,” Chief Black confirmed as he wrapped the man in a warm hug and patted his back.

The man returned the hug and patted his back roughly in greeting.

“It’s good to be home, finally,” Charlie said as he glanced warmly toward Paul again.

“A lot has changed,” Chief Black pulled back and held Charlie at arms length, looking upon him with the love that only a very old friend could. “I’m sure you remember Paul.” Chief Black gestured to him.

“Oh yes,” Charlie said with a glint of mischievous recognition in his eye, “Caused enough trouble back then to make his face known to us all at the station,” he joked. Chief Black let out a barking laugh.

“This is his partner Maya Sunriviere,” Chief Black said. Paul let Maya fold herself out of his side somewhat as she pushed toward the two older gentlemen, but he kept a firm grasp on her hip as if to yank her back behind him at any moment. What the fuck is going on? This old dude seems fine.

“Nice to meet you,” Maya said, clearing her throat and reaching out her hand. Charlie shook it genially and his eyes transformed into one of hopeful recognition.

“Well, it seems like Paul has gotten a taste of his own medicine,” Charlie gibed, “More trouble,” he said kindly to Maya who could only take it as a compliment at that point and let out a little laugh. Maya felt Paul's fingers tug at her hip to guide her back to him and she obliged, not wanting to stress him out further when she had no idea what was going on. Charlie gave them a once over and said almost dreamily, “Reminds me a bit of my Bells,” before turning to look at Chief Black who gave a conspiratorial laugh and pulled him under his arm to steer him toward the backyard.

“Let’s hope not,” he returned. Maya heard a deep growl coming from Paul’s throat as he kept them firmly planted in the living room.

“Paul,” Maya said gently, her hand patting his chest. His eyes were trained toward the two sauntering men as if they’d morph into ungodly creatures and turn and attack at any moment. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

Paul’s grip tightened again to almost a bruising degree and he shook his head before looking down at her. “Nothing,” he said as he began steering her after them toward the backyard. His shoulders had relaxed, but the grip he held on her was still tight and protective.

As they entered the backyard, the noise returned as the crash of voices rose and fell over one another. There were shouts of laughter, jokes, and general murmurings of discussion, but it quelled somewhat when Chief Black cried out, “Look who made it!”

The reception out here was much more welcoming than the one Paul had given Charlie inside. Sue Clearwater scurried around the table to wrap Charlie in a warm hug and Sam gave him a kind smile and shook his hand. Seth’s smile could be seen from space as Charlie gave a whoop of noise and yanked him into a tight hug. Everyone seemed pleased to see this mystery man which made Maya worry about why Paul was so defensive and hesitant earlier. Everyone gathered around Charlie as if he was a prodigal son returning, a long lost relative back from the dead—everyone except…

Jacob’s POV

This had to be a joke. Charlie fucking Swan was standing in front of Jacob Black with the widest grin he had ever seen. A knot formed squarely in the center of Jacob’s belly and when Becks’ hand coasted gently down the length of his arm, he tensed. Jacob glanced to his right where Becks stood next to him, her eyes washing over his in question: Who is that? What’s going on?

But Jacob couldn’t bring himself to answer those questions in her eyes right now. Becks had threaded her arm neatly around his massive one and clasped his hand in hers. The relief was immediate and he squeezed her hand tightly in his before glancing back over to Charlie. His past came roaring back to haunt him it seemed and he hadn’t had time to tell Becks everything yet.

No. He hadn’t had time to tell Becks about...her.

Jacob was acutely aware of the overwhelming dread he felt now that signaled his misstep. He’d had quite a few in their relationship so far—and he was no stranger to making mistakes based on emotion. Now, all he wanted was to keep her safe from all of this. To keep things uncomplicated between them as their relationship had slowly become recently. But with Charlie coming toward them now, only a few feet away, that thought evaporated. Nothing would ever be easy when it came to them.

“Jake,” Charlie said in warm recognition. Jacob tried to soften his expression into one of welcoming kindness. Next to him, he heard Becks’ breathing change, as she shifted away from him and let her hand fall from his as Charlie leaned in for a hug. Jacob wrapped his arms around him and slapped his back much like Charlie did to him. When he pulled back, Charlie kept his hands on his arms.

Jacob towered a good five inches above Charlie’s six foot frame, but it did nothing to the feeling of how small Jacob felt in Charlie’s eyes—dwarfed by their shared history together and tied to that one singular person: Bella.

“I swear, you get bigger every time I see you. How is that even possible?” Charlie chuckled and the genuine joy at seeing him was clear in his eyes. Jacob tried to relax, for Becks sake at the very least, but the uncertainty that hung in the air at Charlie’s presence was palpable.

“Well, you know what they say: the bigger the problems, the bigger the wolf,” he joked. Becks sucked in a sharp breath next to him, realization dawning on her quickly that this stranger knew about the pack.

“Do they say that?” Charlie joked giving him an amused smile and the two men broke into a light chuckle. “And who’s this?” Charlie turned his attention to Becks making the side of Jacob’s mouth twitch ever so slightly. Becks was in no real danger here, not with his brothers and him nearby and it wasn’t like Charlie was a remorseless bloodsucker, even if he was related to one. Jacob internally winced at his characterization of the people he used to consider his family. But things change. He didn’t need to take that out on Charlie anyway.

“This is—” Jake started, but Becks took a step toward Charlie and held out her hand, wide smiles and amber eyes glittering.

“Rebecca. My friends call me Becks, though,” she was unwavering, strong, sure footed and Jacob hooked his arm down around her back to anchor her to him hoping that her strength could rub off on him.

“Well, I sure hope we can call ourselves friends,” Charlie said, completely enamored as Becks gave a genuine bubbling laugh and replied,

“A man wearing that impressive of a mustache is bound to be a trustworthy friend.” Jacob cracked a smile and Charlie hooted with laughter.

“My girlfriend,” Jacob confirmed with a nod and Charlie nodded back in appreciation and —was that relief? Jacob gripped Becks a little tighter and she gave him a small smile, peering up at him as if the world began and ended with him. He knew that look, but now he knew he could trust it as long as it came from her.

“Charlie!” a call came out from behind them and Seth waved them over to the table, gathering to eat. Jacob leaned down to kiss Becks’ temple and murmured softly to her, “I’ll fill you in later.” She nodded, seemingly unperturbed and patient and he patted her hip gently before steering them toward the table together.

The rest of the dinner passed without much incident. Paul continued looking over at Jacob as if he was to blame for Charlie’s arrival, the firm line of his frown and accusing eyes made him internally groan. But it wasn’t his fault—he had no idea why Charlie had come back or if he was staying or for how long. And if he was back, did that mean—? No, definitely not. That would be too soon, they’d barely been gone a decade and people would remember them. No, Charlie must be back because he was tired of wherever they had settled and wanted his quiet Sundays fishing to himself. Jacob kept throwing glances at Paul who wouldn’t stop glaring every chance he got despite Maya elbowing him in the ribs a few times and telling him to quit it. Becks sat patiently beside him, chatting with Sadie and Jared as if no world alternating incident had occurred and for that Jacob was thankful. This woman was the definition of steadfast.

He never had to worry if she’d show up or get mad at him for his occasional mood swings. She was just always there, holding his hand, giving him that soft reassuring smile that let him know everything was going to be alright. She was the lungful of fresh air that filled him up after staying around creatures who didn’t even need to breathe for so long.

She gave him a home, a landing in which to keep his feet firmly planted where he didn’t feel like he was being pushed or pulled one way or another, or having to give chase. The least he could do was provide her with a physical home—and anything else she wanted for that matter. But Becks was patient and kind and kept him coming back for more with her sweet humor and level head.

When it came time to leave after the bonfire they had lit on the beach winded down and the cool evening air gave way to deep midnight, Jacob took Becks’ hand and said his goodbyes. He was happy to be home in a place he never thought he’d set eyes upon again.

Before they could make it back up to Sam and Emily’s backyard and back to his bike, Charlie intercepted him.

“Come by soon, yeah?” Charlie asked, “Becks, you’re more than welcome too. We can do some fish fry.”

“Yeah, soon,” Jacob said giving him that gentle smile and he patted his shoulder before weaving Becks around him who gave a kind goodbye.

The ride back to the garage was short, and when he and Becks climbed the stairs to the lofted, renovated bedroom suite above the garage, it didn’t take long for Becks to fit him with that knowing stare.

“I know, I know, just give me a second to….get it all together,” Jacob said guilty as he ran a hand over his face, the other stacked on his hip. Becks kicked off her shoes and nodded while hanging her coat.

“Charlie Swan, right?” Becks confirmed not looking at him as she moved toward the kitchenette to make herself some tea.

“That’s the one,” Jacob replied with a deep sigh, “For the record, I didn’t know he was going to be there tonight or that he was coming back.”

“I didn’t think so,” Becks said as she filled the teapot. Jacob shifted from one foot to the other, uncertain on how to proceed, where to begin. He flipped one corner of their bedsheets down and straightened a wolf figurine he’d carved and perched atop a lonely shelf by the bed. “You’re stalling, Jake.” Becks said as she grabbed a mug and dropped a teabag in. Jacob let out a knowing groan.

“It’s...complicated,” he breathed.

“More complicated than a weird baby pact that the council has with one another? Or more complicated than my ex-boyfriend showing up for pack dinner tonight and giving me such a wide berth that it was made clear that I am categorized alongside the plague to him?”

“Ah, yeah, I completely forgot Jeremy was there. Fades into the background yah know?” Jacob put his hand on the back of his neck and rubbed. Becks didn’t respond and he’d worried he had offended her. “He hasn’t been giving you any trouble lately has he?”

“Trouble?” Becks asked as she swiveled around with a steaming mug in her hand raising an eyebrow and trying to hold in a laugh that was apparent in her eyes.

“Yeah, has he been like calling you and stuff?” Jacob was not giving it his best here.

“No, Jake, he hasn’t. Anyway, spill,” she said, crossing her legs in front of her and leaning back against the countertop.

“Ah,” Jacob started, glancing at his feet and then back up at her, “Charlie is Bella Swan’s father. And Bella was the girl I was in love with for...a long time. It’s why I left,” he said already feeling the words coming out as stupid. Becks didn’t say anything, just watched him carefully and waited for him to go on. “I left with them because I thought I could never be happy anywhere where she wasn’t. Even after she turned into one of them, I...still couldn’t stop myself from chasing her. Hoping that she’d love me back. But then, after a few years of living with them, I realized that I was only this shell of myself. I’d lived without warmth for so long that I started to feel frozen. I knew I’d die there...if I stayed,” he said the last part in an exhale as he tried to decide if he should tell Becks what happened next or just skip to the sad, depressing bit.

“So, I left,” Just skip to the sad, depressing bit then. “And I lived on my own for another 4 years mostly in wolf form and I lost all sense of everything. Who I was, where I belonged, my home. It’s pathetic really,” Jacob said. Becks scoffed at that and her eyes hardened. He watched her carefully and took soft slow steps toward her, as he said, “I don’t know why I came back when I did, but I’m so glad it happened, Becks. And Charlie being here doesn’t change anything. I’m not leaving again. I won’t leave you,” He was in front of her now and she peered up at him around her mug, her eyes flooded with love and trust and not a hint of wariness. Her perfectly plucked mouth was just begging to be kissed and the corner of Jacob’s mouth quirked into a warm, brightening smile. He cupped the sides of her face, nearly swallowing her small face in his broad hands and let his pinkies touch the side of her neck, feeling the uptick of her pulse as he brought his face down toward hers. “I’m all yours.” He said with such finality that it felt like a door slamming, a key clicking in a lock.

Becks set her mug down and brought her hands to hold onto his wrists as she peered up at him, hovering her lips just above his. “And I’m all yours, too. But Jake,” she said, her eyes casting around his face, “There’s more that you’re not telling me. You don’t have a reaction like the one you did tonight with Paul staring daggers at you without there being something else. You don’t need to tell me now, but you do have to tell me.” Jacob smiled and had to stop himself.

“You know too much,” he admitted sweetly before letting his lips drift across hers lazily, feeling the sharp intake of breath she sucked in.

“You’re not as smooth as you think, Black,” she teased and that made him growl with unbridled joy as he let one hand slip down her back and yank her toward his chest so there was no space between them.

“Oh, I can be smooth. You want moves? I got moves,” he joked and Becks laughed, letting out quick shriek when he dipped to scoop her up, one arm under her butt as she wrapped her legs around his torso and he carried her toward the bed. He flopped her onto the bed and she bounced a little, laughing like a kid on Christmas morning. “You ready for smooth, honey?” And when she nodded enthusiastically, he grabbed her ankles and gave her quick tug down the bed. Kneeling in front of her, he unfastened her jeans and peeled them down her body, kissing along her inner thigh to her calf. Once removed, he pressed a rough, open mouthed kiss to her core through her panties and that gifted him with a delicious moan from that full lipped mouth of hers.

As he kissed up her hip bone, he pushed her shirt easily off of her and in one fluid motion, he unsnapped her bra and quickly pulled it from her body, leaving her completely bare to him save for the pink lace underwear. His jeans were now painfully tight as he felt himself harden and as he peppered alternating kisses and bites down her neck to her shoulder, he let out a low groan as his slipped one deft finger beneath her underwear to find her dripping with heat. As he crushed his lips on top of hers, feeling her soft, plump lips mesh perfectly against his, he let his finger tease from her clit to her opening in soft, even strokes. She began to pant, wrapping her arms around his neck to anchor herself to something and he smiled beneath their kiss.

When he wrenched his mouth away from hers and kissed down the length of her throat, he pushed her onto her back with his other hand, taking her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolling and pinching. His mouth landed on her other breast and nibbled and sucked until she was letting herself freely whimper into the softly lit room. “Did your boobs get bigger?” he joked and Becks let out a breathy laugh before smacking him on the shoulder. He finally slid his index finger into her wet opening as he flicked the pink pearl of her nipple with his tongue.

“Jake!” she gasped. “I need you.” He grinned, satisfied and left small pleasing bite marks around the soft flesh of her breast and down her stomach before removing his hand and taking her panties with it.

“I know honey. And I’m going to take care of it for you, you know that, right?” he murmured sweetly as he quickly removed his jeans and boxers, tossing aside his shirt after them. Becks bit her lower lip and nodded eagerly, spreading her legs for him so he could see the mess he already made of her. “So sweet, so good for me,” he said as he leaned down again to dip his head to her center and swipe his tongue along the slit. She let out a surprised cry, her hands kneading her breasts as he dipped his tongue expertly in her and then slid up through her slit, circling around the bead of her clit.

He sucked at her until she was begging for him again and then he stood up, pulling her legs up so her ankles rested on his shoulders and pressed into her fast and deep. They both groaned as they pressed together and Jacob shut his eyes tight at the wild feeling of love and desire and need that pulsed through him every time he entered her. She rolled her hips on him, begging him to move and with a sharp smile he began to slowly move in and out of her, watching her face melt into that blissful look of pure devotion.

As he picked up his pace, angling his hips to hit at her most well loved spots, he watched her tits bounce perfectly, as she used the back of her hand to cover her mouth every so often, and her cheeks reddened with heat. So fucking beautiful and all mine, he thought to himself. Jacob turned his face to kiss her ankle as he steadied her with a hand on her waist and slapped his hips harder against her. Becks’ cries were coming fast now and he leaned forward to angle her body more, stretching her wider for him. He felt her cinch him within her in response and knew she was close. Licking the tips of his fingers, he pressed it between them and rubbed fast needy circles on her sensitive nub. Becks’ eyes began to roll back and with a pleased exhale, and Jacob said, “You want me to fill you up, honey?”

That was all it took to make Becks explode, her walls fluttering and tensing around him as she reached her end. Jacob had now fully bent her legs so that they were almost parallel with her face as he pressed his mouth to hers, pumping wildly into her with obscene slapping noises and grunts that would no doubt pull jokes from his brothers if he’d ever rejoin the pack mind. With a few more jerks of his hips, Jacob spilled inside of her eliciting a pleased moan from Becks who kissed him like he just won her a prize. They panted into each other's mouths and after a few heady moments where Becks let her legs slide back down, he said, “See? I got moves.”

“You do,” Becks panted with an exhausted laugh, “Good job.” Jacob leaned his face into the crook of her neck and let out a few good huffs of laughter before settling into comfortable silence, not daring to untangle himself from her just yet.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Paul said as he leaned down to kiss the side of her head. Maya wasn’t so sure about that. She puffed her cheeks up with air and let out a dramatic huff as Paul chuckled next to her before leaning forward and ringing the doorbell to her parents house.

Paul had set it up and thought it would be a good first step to mending the broken pieces of her and her mother’s relationship. With only a couple days left before she was due back to New York and with the crushing onslaught of finals, this was her last chance before winter break to patch things up with her mom.

The door creaked open in its same welcoming groan that had punctuated Maya’s childhood and Paul gave her a hand a squeeze. Her parents opened the door together and Rish gave an ecstatic smile but worry was painted in her eyes.

“Tom,” Paul said brightly, holding out his hand. Maya’s father grinned widely, his eyes shining with hope as he shook Paul’s hand hard.

“Good to see you!” He said as his other arm wrapped gently around his wife’s shoulders. Maya was frozen to the spot, her eyes glued to her mother as if one misstep would set off a chain reaction in her. Paul glanced from Rish to Tom, the chill causing Maya’s neck to sprout in goosebumps. Paul’s hand automatically rose to cover the back of her neck, the warmth spreading through her.

“Oh! Come in, come in!” Tom said, pushing away from the door frame awkwardly and pulling Rish with him. Paul nodded and looked down at Maya but her eyes stayed forward.

“Yes, come in, we’ve got quite a chill rolling through, don’t we,” Rish said with a warble running through her voice. She was desperately trying to act as normal as possible, but Maya could tell she didn’t know what to do with her hands and she wrung them by her sides as if they punctuated each breathy word. Rish’s eyes darted from Paul to Maya to the floor then to every item in the front living room.

This is going to be so awkward. Maya thought to herself as she deflated into Paul’s side as they stood quietly in the front room. Paul tugged gently at the collar of her coat and she came to a bit to shrug it off her shoulders and into his waiting arms. He hung it by the door and Maya instinctively wrapped her arms around her midsection. Paul returned placed a warm hand on her hip. All of this had passed in terribly long silence and Maya internally cringed—okay maybe outwardly too. She tried to smooth the features on her face before her father brightened, as if remembering why they were all there and said,

“How about some drinks? Maya! You have to tell us about school. Your email updates are too short,” Tom swivelled and walked down the hallway that lead to the open kitchen and their dining room. Maya let out a huff of breath and followed quickly, Paul lingering to urge Rish down the hall with them with a gentle smile.

“I don’t have a lot of time to write full length journal entries about my day, dad. This school is kicking my ass,” Maya said as she entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter top as she watched her father pull down wine glasses from the cupboard. Her mother tutted at her curse and Maya glanced at her as if she was finally going to address her but Rish settled by the stove to check on the food. The kitchen smelled amazing, and she could tell right away that her mother was cooking her favorite—Three Sisters soup with fresh baked harvest bread.

“Grab the wine from the fridge,” her father said absently as he searched for the wine screw. Maya crossed the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door feeling like she was transported to just a year ago—before college, before the imprint, before Paul. When it was just her and her parents and her heart momentarily ached for that warm nostalgia. Paul was watching her carefully from his place next to Rish by the stove, murmuring quietly to her mother about the meal and how wonderful it smelled. Maya opened a drawer routinely and found the wine screw, making quick work of the cork. She handed the open bottle to her father who made a delighted sigh.

“It’s so good to have you home, My-pie,” he said, taking the wine bottle from her and kissing her forehead. He began pouring white wine into the glasses and started carrying on at Paul’s inquiry about his work. Maya watched her mother’s straight back as he bent over the simmering soup. Paul, next to her father now, handed Maya two glasses of the wine her father poured and nodded over his shoulder toward her mother. Maya rolled her eyes dramatically and walked over to her mother at the stove before saying in what she hoped was an even tone:

“Smells good, mom.” She held out the wine glass and watched the side of her mother’s face tick with stress. Maya let out a withered sigh and set the wine glass down on the counter taking a long drink from her own. “I saw Chief Black yesterday at Sam and Emily’s.” Her mother nodded as she lifted the wooden soup spoon to her mouth for a taste test. “He seemed in pretty high spirits all things considered. I assume that means the DeSota renovations are going well?” Maya offered. She only knew about the updates to the council projects because of her father, but she thought it would be an easy subject to broach with her mother.

“Grab some bowls,” her mother said quickly, turning away from her to grab more spices from the cupboard. Maya set her wine glass down a little too hard and drew Paul’s attention who glanced over at her with mounting worry while still talking to her father. Maya pulled some bowls down from a cupboard and clapped them onto the counter before digging in a drawer for some spoons. Her mother glanced at her, but the look on her face was unreadable and Maya felt a weight settle in her stomach like the one she felt upon arriving back in La Push. That same feeling of separation—she felt like she didn’t recognize her own mother at that moment.

Without any prompting, Maya shuffled toward the dining room and began setting the table. Behind her the kitchen began to bubble with more conversation as Rish turned to ask Paul how his business was going, making Maya’s irritation grow. This was going to be a long night.

By the time dinner was drawing to a close Maya’s hands hurt from clenching her fists so hard. Paul had begun worriedly rubbing the back of her neck with his broad hand every so often, sensing the tension between her and her mother mount as the dinner went on. Maya had tried, she really had. She tried making conversation with her mother, telling her parents about Columbia, talking about the extension progress on the house, on Jacob and Becks’ plans to build in the land he bought early next spring—everything. But to no avail. Anytime Maya tried to directly address Rish, she’d change the subject or keep eye contact with Paul. Maya didn’t understand and as the dinner dragged on, her father trying to uneasily keep the peace, Maya spoke louder and louder when her mother would cut her off to ask Paul for the hundredth time about his work for the Treever’s.

Paul was polite, as usual, and tried to keep Maya looped into the conversation with follow up questions and compliments to her ability to stay focused at school with everything going on back on the rez, but again, Rish would chuckle and compliment Paul instead, or get up to get water. It was torture. So, by the time Rish asked if anyone would like some tea, Maya had excused herself hastily, pushing back roughly from the table and jogging up the stairs to her old bedroom.

The sound of soft murmurings could be heard below but Maya paid them no mind as she ran her hands up her waist and neck to roughly comb through her hair. It took all of her self control not to scream.

Maya couldn’t understand what her mother was doing but it felt like punishment. She paced her bedroom feeling the warmth of frustration and anger creep up her throat. She wanted to tear the dark cranberry red sweater dress that clung to her shape from her body. Instead she tucked at the short turtle neck and crossed her bedroom to wrench open the window and let the rush of cool air wash over her.

“Babe,” Paul said from the doorway to her bedroom. Maya straightened and turned around taking deep breaths and shaking her head. Her patience was gone, she wanted to leave, and that deepening pain at the rift between her and her mother was going to tear her apart if she stayed here for any more torture tonight.

“Paul, I can’t. I don’t understand what she’s doing,” Maya sucked in a sharp breath, willing the tears to abate from the corner of her eyes. Paul’s face drew into a deep frown as he crossed the room to her, bringing his hands to either side of her face and running his thumbs over the course of her cheeks as a tear escaped. He kissed her forehead and said gruffly,

“She’s just hurt, Maya,” he whispered into her hair. Maya let out a frustrated laugh.

“Me too. But she’s the parent, can’t she just get over it so I don’t have to feel this way anymore?” As the words came out of her mouth she shut her eyes tight and cringed at how she sounded. God, she was 19 but she had never acted like such a kid. She was right to feel hurt and the way Rish was treating her might not be fair, but Maya hadn’t exactly extended any kind of olive branch for what she had said either. Paul watched her as Maya took some deep breaths and nodded at herself before looking up at him, still obviously frustrated.

“Try again,” he said softly. Maya focused her gaze on him and watched as the earnest look in his eyes melted into soft adoration, that playful smile breaking across his mouth and leaving her breathless again. Paul pulled her closer to him, tilting her face up to meet his lips and Maya let out a small moan. His kiss became hungrier at her sounds and he slid a hand down her body to wrap around her back and knead the thick flesh of her ass.

Another small sound escaped Maya and Paul pulled away momentarily to let his eyes dart around her face, “This dress drives me crazy by the way. I can see every fucking curve but it’s all covered by this tight little dress.” Maya smiled and Paul dove in for another taste of her pushing her flush with his body so she could feel his hard weight on her stomach. As he nibbled on her lower lip, he continued, “Go try again with your mom so I can take you home and rip this thing off of you.”

He let her grow roughly and Maya, thoroughly rocked, gave him a shocked grin. He raised an eyebrow and let that playful smile reach his eyes. With a quick swat to her ass, Maya rushed out of her childhood bedroom and down the hall toward the staircase taking a deep breath and shaking her hair out with her fingers.

Maya found her mother alone, wrapped in a shawl out on her back porch scrolling through her phone. Maya opened the door to the porch and slipped out, swathed in darkness. She could hear the ocean rushing nearby and the sweet smell of salt mixed with cold winter night made her crave the warmth of her and Paul’s bed.

“Mom?” Maya said after closing the sliding glass door behind her and crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re leaving. I wanted to come say goodbye.” Maya heard the tapping of Rish typing something on her phone but she didn’t say anything. “Mom.” Maya said a little more forcefully this time. “Are you going to say anything to me tonight? Or do I still not exist?”

Silence. Tapping. It was rattling her. Try again. She heard Paul’s voice in her head. Maya threw her head back and heaved a great sigh before saying, “Mom, I know I hurt you with what I said at the bonfire. Parts of it I meant—the stuff about my relationship with Paul not being any business of the council’s...But I didn’t mean what I said to you. I would never keep you away from my family. And I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Rish had set down her phone during Maya’s speech and looked at her. “I never tried to push the kid thing.” Rish said unexpectedly. Maya scuffed her shoe on the patio.

“I know mom, but you were pushing us. This stuff with Paul is already complicated enough. I need you on my side,” Maya said, tears threatening to spill again.

“I am always on your side, Maya,” her mother said severely from her place in her chair. Maya stared at her through the dark, the only light coming from the glow of the kitchen. Rish’s face was hard, her eyes pained, “And I will always choose you over this council, over everything. I’m sorry if it felt like I was pushing you or not on your side, but I am. No matter what,” her voice cracked at the end of her sentence and Maya felt the hot tears fall freely down her cheeks now. Rish was standing now and crossed to Maya who was nodding quickly, trying to stifle the sobs rising in her throat, “I won’t ever push you like that again.”

Rish’s warm arms wrapped tightly around Maya and she sagged into her mother’s body, feeling the relief rush through her. Rish pet the back of her head and let her cry into her shoulder as Maya clung tightly to her mother, letting the anger and sadness she had felt these past few months to fall away as her mother held onto her tightly, “I’m so so sorry Maya,” her mother whispered into her hair and pressing kisses to the top of her head.

With only a few days to go before she was headed back to New York, Maya finally felt like she had come home.

Next > >

[cdroloisms]

I can’t tell if I’m the only one but have you ever thought about c!wilbur and c!dream being brothers because that hc lives rent free in my mind and I have constant brainrot over it

ooh anon, ive seen a few things w/ this concept but not nearly enough. youre right,, it’s a VERY fun hc, and plays a lot into the way these two negatively affect each other and the way their arcs mirror each other in the smp ,, many thoughts. 

here’s a quick fic, ft. resident dadza suffering w/ two (2) complete disaster children that need. so much therapy. 

tw: implied prison abuse, toxic relationship, self-destructiveness, mental illness, trauma

“What are you doing?”

If Phil were more enamoured with narratives, with irony and parallels and metaphors the way his eldest has always been, he’s sure he would feel some sort of amusement at the words. This image is hauntingly similar, even to his jaded eyes, the walls painted with the same sort of iron and ash desperation, the same sorrow clinging to the walls like an oily film, dark and thick and cloying.

He sighs, adjusts his cloak; he’s been around for far too long to find any meaning in suffering, any beauty in pain. There aren’t any narratives, any stories, just the same bubbling well of hurt that only seems to know how to grow. Pain is just pain - vicious, ugly, awful - and he knows it all too well.

“Phil!” Wil speaks first, as he always does. Dream follows him, as he always does. “You’ve come!”

Perhaps he should’ve known, as the Angel of Death, that nothing but destruction could follow his sandaled footsteps, that his children would bear the same burden, that the gunpowder that had long settled into his own skin would not be able to leave theirs. Phil sighs, adjusts his wings, looks up at his sons.

They look terrible, honestly; Wilbur’s eyes are wide and white, hands twitching at his side, hair fluffed up like he’s not had the time to brush it into submission. His jacket is tattered at the edges, still smudged with soot from the first time they had this song and dance, and there’s a manic edge to his smile that sends a wave of prickling unease down Phil’s spine.

Somehow, Dream looks worse; his eyes, which had always been bright and green and brimming with life, look grey and dull, shadowed by the helmet fixed firmly around his head. The shadows under his eyes look like bruises from a distance, only further highlighted by the unnatural paleness of his skin, and his armor seems to dwarf the body inside it. One of his hands holds tightly onto Wil’s sleeve, knuckles white from the strain, like it’s the only thing keeping him standing. In all honesty, it might be.

“Wil,” he says, that same bone-deep grief and fatigue settling onto his shoulders as he looks up to meet his eldest’s eyes, then lets his gaze slide over to the face of his youngest- “Dream.”

“We were expecting you,” Wilbur continues, Dream’s face still eerily blank, eerily silent. He’s always been the one to ramble, to spill his feelings and thoughts often against his (and his brother’s) wishes - Phil can’t remember seeing him silent, until now. Wilbur laughs, grating.

“Right- Phil, you haven’t seen him since the prison, have you?” Dream flinches, Wilbur smiles wider, and Phil feels the feathers on his back stand on end - danger, danger, danger. “What was it? Pandora’s Vault? Interesting place, don’t you think?”

Dream looks up at him, eyes dull, and for a moment the grief knocks Phils ribcage in, leaves a hollow hole in his chest that leaves him struggling for breath; a ghost of a father that he can no longer be beats at the inside of his skull, screams what did they do to you, what did they do to my children - and he swallows around it, closing his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I think you already know, Dad,” Wilbur’s voice goes low, poisonous, lips pulling tight at the corners, making him look far older than he actually is. “Or do we have to explain this, again?”

No, Phil thinks, watching the way Wil’s shoulders rise to his ears, the near-feral glint to his eyes, the familiar determined set to Dream’s jaw on a face too gaunt to belong to him. The swirling, acrid storm of self-destruction is all-too-familiar, is the chaos that Dream had always loved combined with the legacy Wil had always craved thrown together and dialed up to eleven - even now, they are his sons through and through, his sons with new scars and new shadows and choking on the smoke of the fires they burnt using their own love as fuel. You do not.

“Come home,” he breathes, his words lost to the shadows almost as quickly as they leave his lips. Dream blinks at him, cheeks hollow, eyes hollow, and Wilbur laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

“Goodnight, Phil,” Wilbur salutes, mockingly, as Dream presses the button. “It was never meant to be.”

[samadiw]

SOULMATES 🖤🔥

Sneak Peek into my upcoming fic 😍

.

.

The hunt for hocruxes take longer than expected, the trio are well into their twenties but they tirelessly continue their efforts to vanquish The Dark Lord.

It is by an unfortunate misunderstanding that Ron gives away their location.

Giving her friends a chance to escape and continue their journey, Hermione makes the ultimate sacrifice and surrenders herself to widely proclaimed Angel of Death.

Her terms of imprisonment are strange and baffling to her.

She is to be well cared for and educated. Her captor, Draco Malfoy and his family are entrusted with her care, a decision that does not sit well with the ice blonde man now nearing twenty five years of age.

Voldemort has plans for her, he harbours a strong infatuation that he keeps hidden, except when they are alone.

He keeps his advances to subtle touches and lingering glances but does nothing else to thwart the headstrong woman he holds captive.

Hermione devises a plan, she decides to seduce the young handsome Malfoy into bending to her will and letting her leave.

She entices him with her clothes, secret glances and lingering touches but her advances go unnoticed, it frustrates her that he is immune to her charms.

He notices her alright, it takes all his will power to not kneel at her feet and claim her for himself.

She looks, smells and probably tastes like a forbiddenly enticing fruit.

Hermione puts her plan into motion on his birthday and bites off more than she can chew.

Her body betrays her shamelessly and he takes his birthday present in the form of her orgasm on his tongue but after the deed he leaves her to mercy of the shadows with her cum dripping down her thighs as a reminder of the dangerous game she's playing.

Her existence isn't harrowing, it's the best one could hope for.

It isnt until Narcissa's famous Malfoy Christmas ball and the untimely appearance of Theodore Nott that Draco loses his composure and cracks.

T : "Is that Hermione Granger?"

D : "Yes."

T : "The ugly duckling has blossomed into a beautiful swan."

D : "If you are into that sort of thing."

T : "You have eyes, Malfoy."

He did have eyes and Granger looked stunning in a flowing dark green gown that hugged her neck in a high halter and left her entire back exposed teasing the rise of her shapely arse.

It was obvious his mother had taken it upon herself to dress Granger for the occasion. Malfoy family jewels glistened around the former Gryffindor's neck and wrists.

He didn't appreciate Theo's lustful eyes roving over her body.

T : "I fancy a dance."

D : "She's for show only."

T : "Is that jealousy I hear?"

D : "Granger's fate is in the hands of The Dark Lord."

T : "Indeed, but excuse me, I want to get to know the most beautiful woman in the room."

D : "Theo, I'm warning you."

T : "Fuck off, Malfoy, you have no control over my actions."

Draco simmers in unadulterated fury as he watches Theo approach Hermione and engage her in conversation.

The bloody nerve of her, he narrows his eyes and glares as she touches Theo's arm and throws her head back in laughter.

Hermione locks eyes with a pair of icy swirls of grey, he looks positively good enough to eat.

Handsome is a word wasted on Draco Malfoy such is his presence, she gravitates towards him unwaveringly but tonight a willing good looking man is paying her attention and it feels refreshing and oddly satisfying.

Theo leads Hermione to the dance floor and pulls her close to his body, his fingers tease her exposed skin, she willingly moves in and let's her hand slide around his neck.

She peeks a look over Theo's shoulder at Draco, he continues to stare at them unblinkingly, his body radiates anger and a reddish glow emits from his fingertips.

From afar, Draco watches Theo's slow movements on the woman swaying in his arms.

Theo bends to kiss Hermione"s cheek and Draco stiffens.

The song ends, Theo kisses Hermione's hand and with the promise of a walk under the moonlight, they part ways.

She grabs a flute of champagne and walks into the wide terrace. The night sky is particularly pretty with many stars scattered across the heavens.

Her thoughts linger on Ron and Harry.

Soon, I'll be free.

A voice of pure steel cuts through her thoughts.

D : "Having fun, are we?"

H : "The best one can hope in prison."

D : "Did you enjoy him touching you?"

H : "As a matter of fact, I did."

H : "It gets so lonely and Theo is a distraction I wholeheartedly welcome."

H : "He says he's spending the night, perhaps we can get to know each other better."

D : "Like hell..."

Draco closes the distance between them, pulls her roughly to his chest and apparates them away.

Their feet touch solid ground and Hermione pushes Draco away angrily.

H : "Get away from me, don't fucking touch me."

Draco tosses his jacket aside and begins to unbutton his black shirt.

D : "You don't mean that."

He stalks towards her purposely and Hermione steps back at once.

H : "I'm warning you, Malfoy."

D : "I've been meaning to do this all night."

He grabs her around the waist, pulls her to him and claims her swollen lips hungrily.

Hermione stills as his kisses invade her body and mind but she has some fight left in her.

She struggles, manages to free a hand, bringing it across she slaps him hard with all her might.

The slap echoes through the quiet confinement of the room, her fingermarks stain his pale skin and even in the dim light it stands out.

Draco touches his lip and his fingers glisten with blood, he grins at the woman in front of him.

Her fiery spirit turned him on, but when he took her it would be with her consent and not otherwise.

Hermione stares at her trembling hand and then at the imposing man before her.

She breathes rapidly to calm her shattered nerves.

He turns to leave but a small hand grabs his arm in an ironclad grip, he turns to face her and is momentarily blinded by her mane of thick brown hair.

Hermione grabs Draco by the collar and kisses him fervently.

Their need urgent, they shed their clothes and caress and touch every inch of their naked bodies.

She is impressed by his length and girth, the sight fills her with a sensation she is not familiar with.

It presses into the skin of her inner thigh and she closes her eyes in anticipation.

He trails his fingers along her body, tracing the luscious curves of her full body.

Draco sucks on the delicate skin on her neck, he grabs hold of his rock hard cock and guides it into her entrance.

Without a second thought, he rams into her hoping to make a lasting impression, the wanting to stand out from her former lovers is strong.

Her fingers dig into his back and expensive sheets, a pained moan rolls off her tongue.

A whimper follows and Draco stills as her tight walls clamp down around his dick and the tip tears through a barrier.

He brings his head up and stares at the woman beneath him.

Words desert him....

D : "You're a virgin."

He had already taken her, Hermione almost let's out a laugh.

Boldly, she locks eyes with him and runs her fingers through his silky fine locks.

H : "Not anymore."

D : "Granger, fuck...why didn't you tell me?"

H : "Does it matter?

D : "Yes, I shouldn't have been your first."

H : "Why? What difference does it make?"

D : "Forgive me."

H : "There's nothing to forgive, I wanted this."

H : "I want you."

He claims her lips passionately.

D : "Everything about you is special."

D : "I want to ravish you slowly."

H : "Finish what you started, Draco."

Hearing his name coming out her mouth was explosive, it went down to his core.

He slows his pace and pleasures her until they are bathed in sweat and completely spent.

Draco withdraws reluctantly, throws his long legs off the bed and strides naked into the massive ensuite.

He opens the gold plated tap, takes his cock in his hand and stares at it.

The tip is covered with blood and semen.

Her blood, the evidence of her virginity and purity.

It was pure and untainted, not a drop of mud or discoloration to it.

She was his.

It was nothing like he had ever experienced, he was well versed in bedding a woman, but this, being with her felt as if he was reborn from the ashes.

The roaring feelings from his core scares him, it paralyzes him and he holds onto the porcelain sink to steady himself.

The generations old magic flowing through his veins speak to him, it pulls at the strings of his heart and propels him to her.

Their union is an unexpected one, a forbidden love in dark times.

Draco narrows his eyes at his relection and smirks, he would protect her, cherish her and love her with all his being.

Hermione touches her body, it was mere minutes but she craved him again, her heart aches for his presence, she couldn't understand what was happening but it felt glorious.

The need to be surrounded by his warmth engulfed her, she closes her eyes, throws her head back and groans in frustration.

Large hands palm her ripened breasts and teeth graze her sensitive skin.

He pushes his throbbing cock into her tight cunt and pleasured moans escape their lips.

He growls protectively, "Mine."

She sighs in content, "Yours, always."

[redhoodieone]

Too Late to Apologize Part 2

A/N: Part 2!!!!

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Oral Sex on girl, and a tiny bit of Smut.

I didn’t know what to expect when Jason grabbed my hand and literally dragged me all the way to his penthouse in Gotham. Of course, it wasn’t what I expected at all. It was my first time actually being there and I was quite surprised with how low key and comfortable it was.

While Dick requested a lot of help from Bruce’s female interior designers to give his penthouse a lavish and rich look in dark blue, white, and even black colors. His staircase is made with glass to match the humongous wide windows, and he has several pieces of modern furniture that no one is allowed to sleep on. He has historic and expensive art pieces on walls, bright lights hanging down to give a warm glow, and even a statue of the beautiful goddess Aphrodite.

Dick’s apartment is impressive, I admit. But something about Jason’s penthouse feels cozy and mellow.

After Jason locks his front door, I’m given a little more time to investigate his place. All his walls are painted black, and he does have a lot of windows that match Dick’s that show him the view of dark Gotham. Jason’s home decor may seem basic, but I can see he’s quite happy with just what he needs: two red couches and two leather recliner seats that are made for home theaters, a huge flatscreen TV with surround sound, a big toasty fireplace, and a tasteful long white fur rug in front of the TV and fireplace.

While Dick’s penthouse may have a lot of pictures and pricey artifacts on the walls and tables, it seems like Jason mainly focused to decorate his kitchen and dining room more. Jason’s dining room consists of a very big white dining room table and what catches my eyes are the many pictures of his family and friends that are on the wall in the same room.

His kitchen is EXACTLY what I would want. While he does have high class kitchen appliances, I totally envy his huge restaurant style ice cream machine and theater-like popcorn machine.

I hear Jason turn on his fireplace. I make my way back to the living room and see he’s already kicked off his boots. He looks up at me almost shyly. “Do you like my place?”

“Yeah. I really like your ice cream and popcorn machines,” I say.

“I know this place isn’t exactly...cool like Dick’s. I...I don’t really have any expensive taste. I’m nothing like him.”

I frown at him when he takes a seat on his couch. He keeps his eyes down and fiddles around with his hands in his lap. I take off his leather jacket and move to sit close to him.

“I’m actually...relieved you’re nothing like him. If you were, I don’t think I would even be here,” I say softly.

Jason finally looks into my eyes and appears confused. “What do you even like about me?” he whispers.

“I really like how you’re always yourself. You may try to come off as tough and bad, but deep down, you really come through for people you care about. You always put others first, and from what I hear from your family, you always try so hard to be good, and you may think that’s not enough, but the fact that you keep trying makes you more than good in the first place,” I confess.

Jason’s green eyes shine with unshed tears.

I unconsciously look down to his lips and lick my own. I’m still staring at his mouth. “And the fact that you don’t have to show off everything you are or what you have is wonderful. I mean...you’re a true badass Jason. But being here in your home, with you, just proves that you’re a serious, intimate guy, and maybe that’s the kind of guy I really need in my life,” I whisper breathlessly.

I can feel my breathing pick up. Jason’s eyes dart to my lips and back to my eyes. I can smell his delicious cologne and I shamelessly move closer to him. And from the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind it.

“You can kiss me,” I whisper, before I realize I’m putting myself out there. “If you want.”

When it looks like Jason might be having second thoughts or is just hesitating, I immediately fear the worst. My heart sinks down to my stomach, and I’m afraid I’m going to puke or ugly cry in his home.

Jason leans closer to me instead. Our lips are close enough to touch if he or I leans in more.

“Are you sure?” Jason whispers.

“I’m sure that I’ll die if you don’t,” I admit.

And on that note, Jason slams his lips against mine; like a starving man who needs to fill himself. I kiss back as much as I can, but it’s clear from the get go that Jason leads and takes charge, which is something I’m definitely okay with.

I open my mouth teasingly; hoping to get a rise out of the sexiest man who’s kissing me as if he’s the one who’s going to die. I quickly close my lips tightly, but Jason growls against my mouth, and uses one of his large hands to hold my jaw still. He pushes his tongue inside my mouth, and we each take turns tasting and learning every little thing we each like.

Like how Jason loves having his bottom lip being bitten and nibbled on.

Like how I enjoy his hands all over my face and body.

Suddenly, he takes charge again and pulls back from my sore wet mouth. His lips move to my jawline and neck, where he peppers kisses, licks, and sucks my flesh; leaving me love bites I’ll be adoring in the morning.

Jason reluctantly pulls back again and I can see the lust in his hazy eyes. “Get naked and lie down on the rug, sweetheart. I’m going to show your sweet pussy all the love it deserves,” he says breathlessly.

I waste no time. I scramble off the couch and rip off my t-shirt. After I remove my shoes, socks, jeans and panties, I realize I never even wore a bra. I glance up at Jason and am shocked to see he’s already naked and stroking his hard cock.

“Like what you see?” Jason smirks.

I’m frozen. I know my mouth is hanging open, and I must be drooling. I want to taste him so much.

“Lie down doll, or you won’t be getting a taste afterwords.”

I force myself to get on the rug and lie down on my back. I take a peek down at my pussy and am relieved I shaved a day ago. Even if Dick never went down on me, I only groomed myself to be comfortable.

Jason drops down to his knees and pushes open my thighs as if he’s opening his Christmas present. His eyes leave mine, and his gaze travels down from my tits to my pussy. I can hear him groan quietly, he licks his lips as he stares down hungrily at my pussy.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re so wet. You look good enough to eat,” Jason says roughly. He catches my eyes and leans down to closer to my pussy. “Holy shit, you even smell good enough to eat.”

I can feel myself blushing like crazy right now.

“Keep your eyes on me, Y/N. I want to see you fucking cum so hard in my mouth,” Jason commands.

I push myself up on my elbows. While we keep eye contact, Jason smiles and I watch his tongue lick from my opening to my clit. I gasp breathlessly, as he smirks and uses his fingers to open me wider. He slips a finger inside me.

“Oh my God...Jason,” I moan.

Jason adds another finger inside. He pushes them in and out fast. The squelching sounds from my wetness makes my cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I fucking love how wet you sound. That just means when I fuck you, I’ll be able to fuck you as hard and deep as you want.”

Jason’s words turn me on more and I’m forced to grip the rug with both hands just to hold me steady.

I look back down at him and see that he’s ready to up his game. No more little touches. No more teasing. It’s on.

Jason’s tongue flicks my clit harder. Now with three fingers inside me, he fucks me harder and faster. He curls his fingers and expertly hits my g-spot every time. Jason quickly licks my clit side to side and sucks it gently and then puts a little more pressure against it. Jason moans against me; the vibrations send shockwaves throughout my body. It’s like Jason is actually turned on and is getting off himself while he’s getting me off.

“Oh my fuck!!! J-Jay! I’m gonna cum! I need to cum, please!” I beg loudly. The stimulation from my g-spot and his mouth licking and sucking my pussy with everything he has is driving me to the edge.

But I just need that one last push.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I want your cum. Fucking cum, now,” Jason demands.

He continues to finger me hard. He sucks my clit one last time and I gush hard into his mouth.

“JAY!!!! Oh-fuck!!!!” I scream in ecstasy.

My pussy tightens around his fingers. I whine in between gasps. My body jerks and Jason actually has to hold my thighs apart so I don’t crush his head and break his neck or something.

Jason licks my clit again and I squirm in his grip. I’m far too sensitive now.

“Oh my God...that was...that was soo fucking good,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Yeah it was! You fucking squirted all over me, doll,” Jason chuckles.

I turn my head to the side and blush hard.

“Aw, sweetheart. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about that. That was really fucking hot,” Jason says and moves up so he’s on top of me. I can feel his big hard cock below my stomach. “And besides, I haven’t actually made a girl do that before.”

I turn my face towards his. “Really?”

“Mmhmm. A lot of girls aren’t patient about it. But you...you actually let me take my time and focus on you,” he says and kisses me. I can taste myself on his tongue but it doesn’t actually bother me. “And now that I’ve tasted you and know that you can do that, I can’t wait to get you to do it again.”

I slowly grin up at him just as Jason moves a hand between us to guide his cock near my pussy.

“You ready for the big finale, doll?”

I smirk. “Show me what you can do, Todd.”

Jason smiles, and he shoves his cock inside my pussy.

[mrs-hollandstan]

could a write a mob tom with a plus size reader who’s a virgin and is self conscious of her body. and with a ddlg kink too? thank you xxx

I hope I did the ddlg kink justice. I am uninformed lol. NSFW below

[[MORE]]

You knew Tom thought you were stunning. He'd approached, unabashedly in one of his clubs and you'd been inseparable ever since. But the thing was… he was growing weary with no sex to keep him calm. He knew you were a virgin and he'd never push you, but what he couldn't understand is why you seemed so shy around him and the topic of sex. You were confident everywhere else (it seemed) but when it came to him touching you, you'd find a way to cower. He discovered though, that calling you baby girl brought something so primal out of you. He intended to use that. And the opportunity presented itself at one of his clubs, in his office, 

"Darling, c'mere." He demands, drawing your attention from the window looking down on the club. You strut over, setting your wine glass aside and leaning against the desk between his spread legs, "I noticed something and I'd like to… discuss it while we have some time alone together." You stare down at him, pinch in your eyebrows, 

"What do you mean?" You ask. He pats the desk before him, waiting until you lean against the wood to draw his crossed hands from his lips, 

"You know you're… delectable to me. I just," he reaches out, brushing your thick thighs apart to brush his fingertips over your panties. He smiles when you gasp, "I think about you a lot and how gorgeous you'd be laid out beneath me, writhing in pleasure." You clamp your thighs closed, Tom retreating just in time. He stands, towering over you from your laxed position with a cocky smirk, 

"Now sweet girl-" 

"I just… you've been with so many beautiful women and I-" 

"I hope that sentence is going to end with, 'I am so much better'. You do know that right. Why would I waste my time trying to keep you happy if I thought you were worse looking than any other woman I've been with." He diffuses, playing with your fingers with a cocked eyebrow. You sigh, 

"But it's not true. Those girls can pull off outfits I couldn't."

"Uhm, I'm sorry, but when you wore that green and red plaid dress thing with that cream colored turtleneck, didn't I excuse myself to go take a cold shower?" He poses. Staring up at him, you nod, 

"Yeah." He leans down to tuck hair behind your ear and catch your eye,

"So why are you constantly tearing yourself down? You're the most gorgeous girl on this planet. And I would love to show you how much you mean to me." He tells you, pressing his hands to your hips over the blue velvet dress you wear. His eyes are dark and the thrill of his office window being an easy place to be seen unless you're across his desk or on his leather couch forces so much lust to course through your veins. You swallow and stare at him a moment longer before nodding, 

"Yeah… okay." You tell him. He smiles and leans in to kiss you, 

"Good girl. Now… take everything off, and go kneel on the couch for daddy." He purrs. Your breath catches in your throat and he chuckles darkly, 

"Oh, you thought I didn't know? Yeah… your obsession with being called baby girl tells me all I need to know. But I'll be easy for your first time, promise." He purrs before he's moving from your body and towards the office door, flicking the lock on the red door as you stand before the couch, drawing the zipper down and letting your dress drop to the floor. Tom licks his lips as he watches, hands tucked in his pockets while you strip from the strapless bra and matching thong you chose tonight. He hums, shedding his jacket and starting to unbutton his shirt as you climb onto the couch on all fours, 

"You're so gorgeous." Tom murmurs as he drops his shirt to the floor, kicking his shoes off and shedding his socks before he works on his belt. You watch him, licking your lips when he presses his pants and boxers down, reaching into his desk for a condom, 

"You don't have to." You tell him. He meets your eyes, 

"I'm on birth control and… I wanna feel your cum on me daddy." You coo. You giggle when Tom's cock twitches. He abandons the condom and comes to kneel between your legs, stroking himself and pressing his tip to your entrance before he spits and presses himself into you. You gasp, head falling forward as he fills you, hands pressed over your bottom. He pauses, nestled deep inside of you, 

"So good baby. You okay?" You nod, chewing your bottom lip, 

"I'm not completely innocent. I've masturbated before so its… not as bad." You reassure. He hums before he's wrapping a hand in your hair, 

"You're a naughty little thing eh?" You nod, pressing your lips together,

"Yes daddy." He hums again before he gently moves, drawing another gasp from you. He grips your hip hard in one hand, your hair in the other. You moan and whimper, tipping your head back. He wraps your hair tighter, 

"You're my good girl huh?" He purrs. You nod, 

"Fuck… please, faster." You pant. Tom reaches beneath you to rub your clit, listening to you moan loudly before he places his foot on the couch beneath him and presses into you deeper and quicker. You cry out each time he presses his deepest, your body buzzing in pleasure, 

"C'mere baby." He poses, pulling out of you. You turn to look at him, swallowing and shaking your head when you stare at him, slouched on the couch, holding his cock up for you. He clicks his tongue, 

"Darling I've got you, come here." 

"No. I-I can't be on top."

"And why is that?" He poses, already knowing the answer. You cower away from him, 

"I don't… I don't want you to have to have my body in your face." You nearly whine and Tom clicks his tongue, moving toward you, 

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I wouldn't ask for your body in my face if I didn't want it. I want you and that's it. The same way you want my cum on you, I want you on top of me. I just wanna make you feel good, make you see how fucking perfect you are." He tells you. Younstare into his deep brown eyes, swallowing when he holds his hand out, 

"I'm not gonna be thinking how ugly you are while you ride me because its not true. Health isn't determined by what you weigh and any outfit you fill out is gorgeous on you." He reassures. You stare down at his hand again before taking it and gently moving over him. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, guiding himself back into you. You both groan before Tom presses his hands over the tops of your thighs and you move back against him. He hums once more, watching you find your groove in a few short moments. He stares up at you through his lashes as you bounce on top of him, hands rested back on his knees. He presses his hands over your breasts, sliding them down your sides and feeling the slopes and grooves of your tummy and hips. He leans up, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, heart stuttering in his chest at the way you hold the back of his head as he laps and sucks at the pebbles of both of your nipples. He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning back and pressing you chest to chest. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding the back of his neckas you press your cheek to his and he holds your bottom, 

"Shit. I'm so fucking close." 

"Me too." You moan. He presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly until you squeal and your back arches as you cum, breasts pushed into his face. He grunts, meeting each movement of your hips with a hard thrust. He maneuvers you until you're on your back before he draws out, stroking himself as he kisses your knee and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, spilling it across your belly in short spurts. He groans, stroking every last drop from himself before he collapses between your spread legs. You lay panting for a moment before glancing down at the mess that paints across your belly. He hums, finding a few tissues on the floor beside the couch to clean up with before he watches you rise and pick your dress up, shielding your body from him. He plays with the hem of the velvet for a moment before patting the cushion beside him, 

"C'mere baby. Sit with me for a minute." You move to sit beside him. He draws your clasped hands back to reveal you to him. He sighs, 

"I promise to prove to you that you're worth all of it. You're beautiful and I love all of your outfits. You always look stunning and I just… I just want you to know that your beauty is part of the reason I'm still here. You'd be surprised how many men look at you and talk about you behind these doors baby." He tells you, stroking his fingers through your hair. You stare down at him, 

"I just… don't feel like someone like you should be with someone like me. You should have a toothpick thin girl on your arm." 

"I've had my fun with those kinda girls. I love you and I'm not going anywhere for a girl like that. You're stunning and funny and perfect to me in every way. I love your stupid little pajamas you roll into bed in. You're it babe. And I really wish you'd quit hiding from me." He tells you. You sigh,

"I just don't want you disappointed and rethinking your life when your enemies realize what your girlfriend looks like."

"I don't give a fuck what all those assholes think. You're my girl and that's it. No if, ands, or buts about it." He dismisses, "I have my own flaws and I'm not letting them get the best of me. You're beautiful and that's it." He tells you, relaxing against his couch with your skin pressed to his. Moving forward, you lean against him, head pressed to the top of his shoulder, 

"I do love you. And I'm glad you were my first." 

"And I'll be your last. You really think I'm letting you go? You looked like a fucking goddess on top of me." Giggling you stand, pressing your feet through the hole of your dress. You slide it on, 

"I need to go downstairs and get something stronger than wine." You tell him. He hums and just as you reach for your thong, he snags it, tucking it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket which he holds in his lap. A fiesty twinkle sparkles in his eye as he gives a nonchalant shrug, 

"One, you can do it without panties, especially if I might want another round from you and two, I keep souvenirs baby. Now…" He stands and pulls his boxers and pants back on, "why don't you fetch daddy a neat whiskey on the rocks eh?" And the twinkle burns brighter, mischief adding to the effect and confirming you're in for a long night.

[severnlight]

Make way for Pirate Queen Amidala!

(a story snippet is below the cut 😁)

Commodore Skywalker, the youngest person in his Majesty’s Grand Navy to ever achieve the rank, woke up in a cell. His shoulder was throbbing, and his soul appeared to be trying to leave his body by virtue of a skull-drilling headache. He groaned, and risked opening his eyes.

He found himself lying on a dingy scattering of straw — frequently used and ancient, by the smell of it. Cautious light filtered through the clouds of dust from above and bounced off the single item in the cell — a bucket that perhaps once had been green.

His stomach picked up the motions of a sailing ship just as his nose zoomed in on the salt spray over the other, less savory aromas. The wake was splashing on the hull just outside, and for the first time he could remember, the sound filled him with dread instead of comfort.

He’d been rescued from the wreck, then. Just not by the right party.

The Commodore groaned again and rolled to his other side, to relieve some weight from his shoulder. Something else entered his field of vision — a pair of boots, one the other side of the iron bars. The boots hugged a set of rather smallish feet, one of them tapping in sync with the pulsating pain just behind his temples. His breath hitched, and he lifted himself from the floor, careful not to make any sudden movements. His gaze slowly trailed up his foe.

A reedy timbre of a voice broke the silence.

“Oh my. How the mighty have fallen — was that the saying?”

The accent belonged to one of Naboo’s upper crust, just like His Majesty’s. The Commodore squinted his eyes when they reached the face of his jailor, and blinked rapidly. Was it possible?…

“You,” he stumbled forward and grabbed the iron bars because he needed the support. He hoped the gesture came across as intimidating. “You must be ‘Queen’ Amidala!”

The young pirate in front of him chuckled, and lifted her hand to her tricorne hat for a mock salute.

“And you, Commodore Skywalker, are at my service.”

He started at that, and ran his eyes over her. He noted several rows of chevrons, taken as trophies from various Imperial Navy Officer ranks, pinned to her hat in a pattern unabashedly dictated by nothing else than aesthetics. She had even managed a few golden chevrons, from a flag officer — in fact, it was the exact number the Crown bestowed on a Commodore, just one marker short of an admiral.

His grip on the bars tightened and he ground his teeth. The infamous Pirate Queen, who had cowed the Western Fleet into sailing only two remaining safe routes, the terror who had reduced several elite squadrons of his Majesty’s Black Armada to a scuttle of shivering incompetents piled on rickety rafts, was a waif of a woman — way too small for the stolen Navy jacket she was wearing — and in fact, not that much older than him. Gorgeous, too, in a way that derailed any further thought. His brain slipped the latter as a side note, and he threatened to drive a hot spike through it.

The ugly fact was that he, the Emperor’s chosen protegé, the rising star of the Imperial Navy, had fallen right into her trap, just like the line of pompous fools before him. And his prospects… well… he just hoped for a quick execution. The fact that she had bothered to pluck him from the sea and had not tossed him back after uncovering his identity was deeply unnerving. His gaze returned to her eyes.

“I may be your prisoner, but I am decidedly not at your service, pirate scum!” he grated the words, trying to project bravado that he did not feel.

The queen smirked and raised an eyebrow. From the shadows at her side, another pirate stepped forward — a sturdy woman with one hand gripping a whip, and another tucked in her belt next to a sword hilt.

“Should I teach him some manners, Your Grace?”

“That won’t be necessary, Cordé — I am sure we will find him perfectly amiable at the end of this conversation.”

The Commodore did not like being spoken to in third person, not at all.

“Why am I still alive?” he demanded. “What happened to the rest of my men? Where is my fleet?”

The Queen sized him up and down with unnerving confidence. Her re-branded jacket was decorated like her hat, with bits and bobs pilfered from Navy rank insignia — a sizable collection of ribbons arranged by color, several medals, and, to complete the ensemble — not one, but three stars of valor — the highest distinction of an award in the fleet. To see them on a pirate… He drew his eyebrows together, pursing his lips.

Her melodic voice broke his consternation.

“The rest of your  — might I add, ‘very fine’ fleet, now forms my vanguard, Commodore. Thank you.” The hair on the back of his neck rose, while the pirate put a hand to her chin, and tsk-ed, as if he had somehow come up short upon closer inspection. “And you are alive because I am not wasteful.”

Her hand shifted from her chin into a theatrical arc.

“Allow me to present your options: I can either ransom you to your Emperor, who I expect to find most generous in securing the return of his strategic genius — that is, if you still deserve the title.” Here, she issued a mock pout and skewered him with her uncommonly expressive pair of dark eyes. “I am sure His Imperial Majesty will be nothing but magnanimous after you explain just how you lost his favorite secret fleet on her maiden voyage.” Something in the Commodore’s chest tightened. “Or,” she gripped one of his cell bars, not too far from his own hand, and he could sense her guard tensing a few steps away, “you can cooperate with me on a small trifle of an ask, and I will let you, what’s left of your men, and two of your ships go.”

The Commodore swallowed, hard.

“A trifle.” he echoed with a pause, “Of an ask?”

“That is correct. Think about it.” She gave him a pearly smile, released the bar and waved her fingers at him energetically, then turned to leave.

“Wait!” his heart was thumping so loud in his throat that each new word was a struggle, “What ask?”

“All in due time, Commodore.”

She had reached the stairs leading to the upper deck, and he noticed that her coat, while haphazardly retro-sized to fit the width of her shoulders, still reached well below her knees. And, it bore an unmistakable singe mark in the shape of a dog’s head, on the lower left side just in the back. His eyes widened. The eight chevrons, the three golden stars for valor — “Hey!” he raised his voice and rattled the iron bars: “That is my coat!”

She paused, and turned back with a smile that sent the dust particles in the air dancing.

“Was. It was your coat, Mr. Skywalker.”

He watched her small feet ascend the stairs of a Pirate ship now helming his fleet, under his coat, his chevrons and his stars, and sank down in the corner of his cell, pondering just how one man’s fortune can change so profoundly in a day. The Commodore cursed in every language he knew, as his headache pressed on in its best effort to end him. He wished it luck.

[ladyinbooks]

So on ao3 juiceboxoverlord mentioned ‘ And the way Hess is so enamoured with Dan's emotions and ideology like I bet that if they had never met Hess would still fall in love with Dan on the battlefield probably.’

We all know I have an absolute, terrible weakness for this kind of thing, so I really, really couldn’t resist.

So have a mini AU.

Title: Such Violent Delights Pairing: Hess/Daniel Summary: The Antichrist and the Righteous Man meet on a battlefield. Warning: Some minor descriptions of violence/death; dub-con kissing (I mean, it’s Hess...); Hess POV

These violent delights have violent ends.

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder.

Which, as they kiss, consume.

- 'Romeo and Juliet', William Shakespeare

Hess should have seen the ambush coming.

They have been doing so well recently, in their push against Heaven. More territory has fallen to them, more people persuaded by their promises, their ideas.

He should have known it would be too good to last.

The sharp crack as he twists his hand and snaps three necks, reminds him of nothing so much as the splintering of wet wood. Around him the sounds of the dead and the dying are a cacophony, topped by Abaddon's voice bellowing orders.

The bone-white of her hair is visible at the edge of his eyeline. In her suit she is still immaculate, barking at Raum and Asmodeus as she directs his troops like the General she is.

It makes him smile – makes him bare his teeth at the next angel that tries to rush him, as he extends a hand.

That terrible, tearing sensation down his arm; a light so bright that even he almost shields his eyes. He gets a hand on the angel's wrist and pulls.

There is the searing crackle of holy flesh; the unholy sound of an angelic voice raised in a scream. The noise is enough to make the humans around him flinch back, pressing hands to their ears, in a desperate attempt to block out the death of a small piece of the fabric of the universe.

Hess ignores the shriek, and the white hot pain cracking through his finger bones. He smiles, bloodied teeth and wicked intent, and drops the carcass to the floor.

He’s distracted, unfocused, and so it is instinct that saves him, nothing more.

The sharp prickle of intent at the nape of his neck, and he sidesteps just in time to avoid a blade to the back.

He pivots; lashes out and catches the next down-swing with a scrap of shadow.

For a moment, all he can focus on is the sharp steel of the blade centimetres from his throat. The line of it is bright, burning; the runes inscribed on it are holy enough they almost make his eyes water.

A blessed blade.

He only knows one person who would carry such a thing.

He sidesteps again in time to avoid the second blade aiming to bury itself in his gut. One, two, three heartbeats, and he draws in a deep breath.

Enough, he thinks, and the word is broadcast out.

Everything shudders to a halt.

Painfully, grinding and unnatural, the world stills around him.

He doesn't often do this – doesn't often have the inclination or the energy – but sometimes there is a need for it. An itch, just to walk in a frozen reality where there are no demands on him. No threats.

“Let me go,” someone says, harsh, and Hess smiles.

He knows who the Righteous Man is, of course. He's seen Daniel Waters in reports and later – when Heaven sank their perfect claws into him – on screen and in newspapers. Images of him plastered everywhere: saviour, hero, madman.

“A little lost lamb,” he says, and hears the sharp intake of breath.

When he turns to look, Daniel Waters is still too. He's not frozen though – not like every other wretched creature in this blood-soaked field. He's bound, arms strung out by Hess's power.

And in spite of that, he's still fighting.

Tall, strong; a sharp jawline and an undeniable presence. Eyes filled with the burning silver fire of heaven, smoking with purity and determination as he wades against Hess's darkness. A battered leather jacket and scuffed up jeans. Mankind's saviour.

Daniel manages a step, then another, muscles straining as he claws his way forward. His teeth are bared as he snarls, and for one moment Hess honestly wonders if he's about to break free.

“Let me go,” he repeats, and his voice is firm and clear.

It makes Hess want to ruin him.

Blood-soaked and perfect, this creature – this man – is the image of bitter triumph; a holy sacrament, born to suffer at the hands of those who would use him. Made to fight anyway, because he's good. Because he cares.

“Why should I?” he asks, and watches the way Daniel doesn't falter.

“So I can kill you.”

And it's –

Delightful. Wonderful. It makes Hess's heartbeat skip in a way it hasn't for a long, long time.

“Well aren't you a sweet thing,” he says, just to watch the way those eyes flare brighter.

It makes him smile; makes him lick the blood from his teeth as he thinks of war and ruination, and all he could wreak on this perfect, violent creature.

Another painful step, the footfall as heavy as the centre of the earth. Daniel is closer now, arms still bound, but near enough that Hess can see the scattered imperfections of him.

A small nick at the corner of his jaw, long since scarred. The tendons of his neck as he strains, desperate, against the ropes Hess has bound him with. Blond hair, so dark it's almost brown, cropped short enough that Hess probably couldn't get a good grip of it. A perfect, snarling mouth, and a dusting of days-old stubble.

For a moment Hess wonders what colour his eyes were, before he became this pawn. This holy weapon. Were they brown, or green, or blue? Would they look at him in the same way?

Movement, and Daniel's foot lashes out. The heel of it manages to catch Hess's shin. It hits hard enough to hurt, and for a moment he falters.

Nothing has come close enough to injure him since the Before, and his concentration shatters.

The roar Daniel lets loose is triumphant as he breaks free. He lunges forward, slamming into Hess. His swords clatter to the grass, but his momentum doesn't stop.

They fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, calloused fingers wrapping hard around Hess's throat, squeezing.

The weight of him is perfect; the heat and strength of his body a paradise Hess hasn't felt in a long, long time.

It makes him laugh, breathless, and for a moment the grip of those hands on his neck fails.

He moves - fast and terrible enough that Daniel's lip is splitting under his knuckles before he can recover from the shock. The force of it snaps Daniel's head back, and the impact shudders up Hess's arm.

He twists and they roll, scrabbling against one another until Daniel is flat on his back, Hess gripping his wrists, pressing them above his head into the mud. His fingernails are digging in, and he watches the way something flares and dies in Daniel's eyes; in the way he tries to bring a leg up, to fight against the weight of Hess across his thighs.

“Stay still, sweet thing,” Hess says, and can't help the way he leans down, leans closer. “You don't want to make me angry.”

Daniel growls beneath him, dangerous and not at all subdued. “I don't give a fuck about making you angry.”

“You should.”

The softness of Daniel's lips is a shock; the sharp inhalation of his breath a symphony. The warmth of his mouth is a victory. The taste of his blood lingers on the back of Hess's tongue, as he smiles against the Righteous Man's mouth.

He wants this, and he wants this, and he wants this.

The perfect way to get back at Heaven. To tear them down, one sanctimonious, inane figurehead at a time.

Except –

Except –

A pulse, against the pad of his thumb, thundering in time with his own heartbeat. The sharp, vicious sensation of teeth sinking into his lower lip, and Hess sighs at the feel of it.

Daniel is solid heat beneath him, tangible and human. The way he moves, the strength of him – pressed but not contained – makes an ugliness stir in Hess's chest. The first, icy crack of something threatening to splinter wide.

When he pulls back, Daniel is watching him.

“What –” he begins, and his voice is breathless. “What was –”

And this is what Hess wants. This. Those hazel eyes wide – not silver, not silver, not silver – and Heaven's champion strung out beneath him.

It's not a victory, he realises. Not even close. It's a weakness. A terrible, vicious longing to carve his way deep into this man's chest; to work out all the ways he could be a sinner. To pull him down, because he can. Because he wants to.

Because he can't think of anything else.

Daniel is tense beneath him, watching, waiting. For a moment his gaze slides sideways, snagging on something in the grass less than a foot away, and Hess smiles because he knows exactly what's going on in that angry, clever mind.

“You won't reach them,” he says, low and sweet. “By the time you tried to pick up the first blade, I'd have you weighted down in so many chains that the earth would swallow you whole.”

Daniel sets his jaw. “And if it took me a lifetime to claw my way back up and kill you, I would.”

He means it utterly, and the sincerity of him is thrilling.

This is the only person who can come close to understanding what it is like to stand with a hand on both sides of the scale and weigh destiny. The only one who understands the need for sacrifice; to acknowledge that the old world needs tearing down for a new one to rise.

Blood-soaked and dangerous, and the moment Hess lets him go, he's going to try and tear them both apart.

“Daniel,” he says. Then, “Sweet thing. Angelic fury. Heaven's weapon. Duty and righteousness and honour.”

“Shut up.” The flex of Daniel's fingers, the push back against Hess's grip, and it's nearly enough to unseat him. “Don't you dare –”

He's a killer through and through. Hess can see it, writ deep in the core of his soul. He kills because he has to; because it's right. He protects, and saves, and bleeds for a million souls that will never thank him for it.

And he's perfect.

“I could do so much with you,” Hess says, wondering. “The things we could accomplish.” It's a dream, sweet and tempting. He looks down, sees the slide to silver and smiles.

“But I won't,” he adds. “Because that would ruin you.”

“When I get up,” Daniel says slowly, “I'm going to slit your throat.”

“You're going to try,” Hess says, and hears the terrible adoration in his own voice; the soft fondness he shouldn't have. “But at the moment you're at my mercy.”

He tilts down again; watches the way Daniel tips up a little, without even realising. Sees the way those lips part on a slow, measured inhalation and the dark cut of Daniel's lashes, as for a moment he lets himself be moulded to Hess's will.

What he could do. What he wants to do to this man. It would take decades. Millennia.

“Beg,” he says against the soft, vulnerable skin of Daniel's temple.

Teeth at his ear, and he can feel the slow, careful snarl of those lips. The barely contained rage and want beating through sanctified veins. It makes him shiver.

“Go on,” he adds quietly; a savage demand.

A sharp twist, and he lets one of Daniel's wrists go; feels fingers sink into his hair and pull, twining them closer. The pain of it is a thing of beauty, and he smiles at the way he is going to be pulled apart, one atom at a time, for want of this man.

And Daniel draws back; turns his head a little until they are increments from a kiss, breathing the same air.

“You first,” he says.