#at least he aint go without knowing what it felt like to grab a ti-

[slashersweethearts]

if i had a nickel for every time i had a 5cream oc who was an absolutely 100% fruity girl who kept hitting on white boy wes w ZERO intention of actually following through on anything i’d have TWO nickels. which isn’t a lot but its weird that its happened twice right.

[2frosty4you]

Fem reader accidentally flustering the mercs by something she did or said and not understanding why (merc) is so flushed and stumbling over his words? :3

Flustering the mercs [Drabbles]

Fem Reader flustering the mercs :3

| Masterlist | ask/request box | Words: 1090 |

i had to stop myself from just continuing some of these 😭😭😭

Also using tumblr on mobile 😭😭😭

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Scout:

You grab his arm and pull him back to cover as a bullet remains where his head was.

“Jesus christ scout at least be careful”

“i - “

He’s speechless, your hand still gripped around his wrist. You look angry with him, but the feeling of your touch on his wrist makes him red, you drop his hand.

“You aight there?”

“Yes! yeah i- i could’ve totally avoided that without ya y’know aha”

He would quickly spit out, messing up words as you raise an eyebrow as he stumbles and runs around the corner. Heart beating fast and his face red.

Soldier:

Im sorry but soldier does NOT get flustered, but you make his heart beat widely when you talk with his racoons in a baby voice,

“Awww aint ya cuties, whats your names huh”

“Sergeant Smith, the one with the medal is lieutenant bites

“what cuties they all are”

He says with speed as you nuzzle the raccoon and baby talk it while laughing, he’s staring for a while before you look up to him.

“You okay solly?”

“Affirmative!”

His heart is widely beating as you treat his pets like your own, giving them food while you think he isn’t looking and always happy to see them when he takes them into base. (even if medic hates them)

Pyro:

They laugh and clap as you flick open a lighter to show them the hello kitty lighter you had bought.

“See! its a pink flame, isn’t that cool!?”

“mpHmH!”

“Anyway this is for you anyway, gotta go see medic; dont burn the place down!”

You toss them the lighter, and wave.

Pyro sits there, holding the lighter in their hands as their face is a bright red under their mask. Laughing as their body buzzed and felt her hands move to flicker the lighter

Happy knowing it came from you.

Demoman:

“Yeah, an she carried your drunk ass to bed; what a sight HA”

Scout teased, demoman’s face flushed red as you walk in. Waving.

“Hey you three, what's up?”

“Tellin ol’ demo here how he ended up back in his bed”

“Yeah! an look at the drunkard”

His face was a dark red, a. hot feeling radiating as he grummbled and burried his head in his arms.

“Hm? oh yeah did you drink the water i left you?”

“y-yah”

He mutters, you raise an eyebrow but the other two men laugh to themselves as demo grumbles into his arms.

Heavy:

A bowl of hot soup laid before heavy, you standing with a white apron tied around you with a smile.

“What are you waiting for? taste it”

He takes the spoon, blows on the soup and takes a sip. His eyes widen as he feels the taste of his mothers soup on his tongue.

“Does it taste right? not sure if i got it all correct, russian is hard for me to read”

You smile, he coughs softy. Nodding, face a soft pink as you stand like a sun in the kitchen.

“Da, its like how my mother used to cook”

He stumbles over a few words, yet you look at him with a tiled head and a bowl of your own.

Engineer:

Engi had been tinkering on his sentry all night, large bags under his eyes as you place down a place of cut red apples with a bottle of juice.

“Engi, eat something”

“I- oh thanks darlin”

He would say with a smile, face red as he ate. You standing there with crossed arms.

“Take a break soon, we need you tomorrow”

Your small act of affection causes him to stutter and laugh softly, scratching the back of his neck slowly sipping the juice you gave him. Looking over his blueprints, just waiting there for him to finish and take a break.

Medic:

It was a hectic battle so far, medic was tired healing the scout and not noticing the enemy demoman behind him he dropped his gun and readied for the impact of sword against his neck, when it didn’t come and the sound of a body dropping make him look up.

You turn back to him with blood dripping from your face and body.

“You okay doc? He didn’t hurt ya did he?”

“i- nien- nien he didnt”

He’s red, standing there staring at you as you look feral with the demoman’s blood soaking into your clothes and skin,

“Doc? ya there?”

He stumbles over his words as he holds his medigun close, waving to you as he speeds away to go heal heavy who was yelling for him. Almost tripping over his feet as he couldn't remove the image of you from his mind.

Sniper:

Sniper grunts, holding the wound on his arm. The blood bleeding through his fingers as you come around the corner, head perking as you walk back.

“Snipes?? what happened jesus,”

“nothin nothin”

He bites back a groan of pain as he went to grab the med back, you kneel before him.

“Snipes move your hand, jesus what even happened”

“its foin, its nothIN-“

He takes a sharp breath in, and with a delicate touch you move it, which feels like electricity through his body you take the hand holding the wound and place it down.

His face was growing a thick red, heat radiating from his cheeks as he looks away from you, treating his wound like glass even if both of you were war criminals.

Making quick work of the bullet wound, you wipe your hands on your pants and look at his red face.

“Aight, should be good. I’ll get medic to heal ya if we come through”

“tha, thanks mate”

“Try not to get hit again”

Spy:

It takes a lot to fluster the spy, but with you?

You grabbed the spy's arm, pulling him down as a soldier walked past you two. The two of you cramped against each other behind the crate, him in for lap with his two lanky legs just strewn around you two.

His face is red under his mask, breath quicking as he faces away from you.

You look up, and then push him up.

“Be careful, next time i ain't saving you”

“oui, merci,”

His words slip into french as his feet stumble and you catch him before falling.

“What, are you sick? Is that why your head is out of the game?”

“no, non, its nothing ami, merci for hiding me”

He cloaks and quickly leaves as his face was red and his head was clouded with you. As you stood there, a confused look on your face as you kill the other spy.

╚═════════════════╝

[ducknotinarow]

Was Casey furious and embarrassed? Yes. Was he going to kick Raph’s ass? Totally. Then why wasn’t he already attempting to beat them to a pulp? Because Raph currently had his forehead on their shoulder, clearly resting against him, their silent way of seeking comfort. Least, Casey thought it was their silent way of doing so; he knew he did it after that big fight with Hun that left his arm snapped. Boy the Doctors were pissed at him for that one. Point is, he doesn’t immediately move to start biting, kinda just...letting Raph remain there. It gave him a moment to think really,

“Yeah, course I think all that stuff ‘bout yer Raph,” He admits in a murmur, feeling how red his face is, “I know I aint able t’ say it, I get, I dunno, tongue tied when we get all mushy an’ stuff...but like, yer d’ kinda mean the Worl’ t’ me yanno...” 

There’s all those warm fuzzy feelings again. The same ones he felt when they napped together during that rain storm. The same ones he felt when he saw Raph and Angel hanging out. The same ones he gets whenever Raph is being all soft with Young Savage. Casey gets stupid, well, stupider, whenever they begin to buzz. Maybe that’s why he’s looking to his notebook, slowly turning the pages to the specific piece of writing Raphael was reading. He bites his bottom lip; maybe he can’t say it to them, but, he could always try reading it out to him. Cause Casey felt a lot, and he felt it all so deeply,

“...It aint always yer meet someone like you, someone that helps yer see the day through. Someone with the same rage and fire, not just to fight but also with desire, For a long time I’ve been alone, trapped in the shadows an’ stayin’ there ‘cause I thought it was my home. But then I met him, an’ the World didn’t seem so dim. With green eyes that shine like an emerald, lookin’ int’ them makes my heart tremble. An’ a mask as red as my heart, that bleeds for him whenever we’re apart... Raphael is his name, since meetin’ him my life aint been the same. The weight of the World feels lighter, the stars we lay under t’gether look brighter. The way he laughs and grins at me, breaks the chains of my fears and sets me free. I’ve never been so protected, never met someone that I’ve felt so connected. We are an eternal flame, an’ I feel so safe whenever I even think of his name. He’s helped me forget some of the pressure, made my life feel so much better. I aint ever loved someone like Raphael, from his temper to his strong an’ deep green shell. I see him as my best friend, someone I can always depend. I see him as my lover, I aint ever gonna feel this way for another. I see him as my rock, someone t’ ‘elp me tag the city with chalk. Many will find our love weird, but I aint gonna let it be smeared. Cause t’ me it aint ever gonna find it shameful, to look at Raphael as my Guardian Angel...” 

Casey was aware of how much his face was burning in that moment, heart slamming against his ribcage. But he had done it. He had read out the entire poem without stuttering or making an idiot out of himself. And hey, maybe this will stop Raphael from looking more into it, because, in truth, the entire book had writings and drawings about the two of them. Casey just knew he had only brought up ‘emerald’ in one of them. Raph didn’t need to know he had an entire thing dedicated to them though. Turning his head a little, Casey tried to smile his way, aware of how mushy he had just been. He’s about to suggest that they ditch dragon hunting to stay here instead, but when he’s able to catch just a little bit of their face, Casey frowns,

“H-hey Raph? What’s wrong? Are yer okay?” 

Book dropped to the floor, Casey turns, quick to grab the Turtle and bring them into a hug,

“I-it’s okay Raph...I’m ‘ere,” Casey holds them tighter, “I’m ‘ere.” 

| Continued from here because emotions uwu

Forehead to Casey’s shoulder he couldn’t explain what was rattling around in his head at the moment. HE was feeling giddy learning just how big of a sensitive ass Casey was more so about Raph himself. But it wasn’t out of some sort of cloud 9 emotional high he leaned into his boyfriend it was something else,just out of some instinct he found himself moving in to lean in against Casey. Sort of just lost in the moment. Their was a nice warmth buzzing within in his chest as he thought over the bit he saw in Casey’s notebook. Okay maybe he was being stupid here? maybe. Of course, the guy you are dating is gonna well you know like things about you? Wow this did sound dumb out loud.After all Raph thought Casey’s brown eyes were the best thing in the world. So yeah sure Casey liked Raph’s. How did he put it right emerald eyes. Raph wasn’t sure why it was hitting him so damn hard in this moment though. Why he was seeking comfort from Casey right now, neither of them ever worded that need they sort of found different ways to express it like another secret code they had between each other.

“Yeah, course I think all that stuff ‘bout yer Raph,”

There’s a small hitch in Raph’s breath just now when hearing Casey mummer that under his own breath. Needing a second to tell himself off for reacting like that was a surprise. Fuck what was with him? 

“I know I aint able t’ say it, I get, I dunno, tongue tied when we get all mushy an’ stuff...but like, yer d’ kinda mean the Worl’ t’ me yanno...”

Raph glances up from Casey’s shoulder a moment at that last bit. Eyes wide and fixed on the human, question what they just said in their gaze alone. Raph meant the world to Casey? He swallowed hard just now, his heart pounded against his shell just. Raph wished he read more of what Casey put now, he only focused on some small bits. Wondering if he asked if maybe they would let him read more? maybe with permission he be okay with it? Casey though kind of did Raph one better. He heared the sound of pages rustling off to the side glancing over watching Casey’s look at their notebook just now, or he guesses it might be more than a notebook Casey wrote into.

“...It aint always yer meet someone like you, someone that helps yer see the day through. Someone with the same rage and fire, not just to fight but also with desire, For a long time I’ve been alone, trapped in the shadows an’ stayin’ there ‘cause I thought it was my home. But then I met him, an’ the World didn’t seem so dim. With green eyes that shine like an emerald, lookin’ int’ them makes my heart tremble. An’ a mask as red as my heart, that bleeds for him whenever we’re apart... Raphael is his name, since meetin’ him my life aint been the same. The weight of the World feels lighter, the stars we lay under t’gether look brighter. The way he laughs and grins at me, breaks the chains of my fears and sets me free. I’ve never been so protected, never met someone that I’ve felt so connected. We are an eternal flame, an’ I feel so safe whenever I even think of his name. He’s helped me forget some of the pressure, made my life feel so much better. I aint ever loved someone like Raphael, from his temper to his strong an’ deep green shell. I see him as my best friend, someone I can always depend. I see him as my lover, I aint ever gonna feel this way for another. I see him as my rock, someone t’ ‘elp me tag the city with chalk. Many will find our love weird, but I aint gonna let it be smeared. Cause t’ me it aint ever gonna find it shameful, to look at Raphael as my Guardian Angel...”

Raph felt frozen, hanging on every word that left Casey’s mouth just now, was this vain of Raphael? Listening so intently on all this? Because it was about him? No it was about Casey’s feelings for him. That was a bit of difference but damn was it vain to seek out more to hear more on what Casey felt and saw when it came to him? Raph knows Casey is his best friend. he trusts them with well everything. Every thought that crossed his mind, his stupid fear of bugs with how much he makes sure his stock of bug spray never gets lower than six cans. Casey trusted him back of course he knows considering what Casey was willing to admit to him even. They even trusted their romantic feelings to each other. Crossing over that line between friends and lovers... though sometimes Raph wondered if being with another human would be easier they would have to sneek around just for a date after all. Casey worte he wouldn’t feel this way for another? Raph was his rock? He knew Casey found it easy to lean on him but Raph was that much of a support for them? Of course Raph knew he helped casey he just never thought much on it. He liked coming over to Casey’s place it was..his get away. he helped them with his sister now that she knew him or just picked up the place a bit anything that meant spending more time with Casey. Raph kind of thought it selfish but. He blinked a second finding his vision started to blur he was trying to stay focused on Casey, watching their mouth as they were reciting their poem.What? what was going on with him right now, hand lifted up a little to hold on to Casey’s hoodie, gripping on to the fabric tight. Grounding himself a moment. He knew Casey saw him as some kind of guardian Angel and of course Raph would do anything. ANYTHING. For Casey. To keep them safe, to help them anything if it was Casey Raph knew he would go to the ends of the world. He would follow Casey down the darkest paths if it was for Casey he would do it in a heart beat. So why was hearing all of this about himself self from someone he loved so fiercely getting to him? He knew Casey liked him..but it was hitting him. Casey saw all of this in him? This was in Raphael? How?  Raph hadn’t noticed Casey stopped just now he was just left standing in a daze he was starting to grasp at what was going on with him.

“H-hey Raph? What’s wrong? Are yer okay?”

He didn’t even notice the tears till Casey’s voice snapped him back to realty. Only aware of the warmth from his tears against his cheek when the sound of the book landed on the floor had him shift his gaze down and he noticed how blurred his view got just now. Body tugged over as Raph found his face pressed in against Casey. Their arms moved to hold around him.

“I-it’s okay Raph...I’m ‘ere,”

Words weren’t coming to him, fuck he was doing it again. Breaking down like this in front of Casey. Raph just shut his eyes tight as he buried his face in against their chest, slightly rubbing his face in against them in a poor attempt to dry his tears but they just kept coming out. Raph kind of wished Casey had just kicked his ass instead right now. He wasn’t against letting Casey see him like this course not..he trusted Casey to fall apart like this. Maybe thats why he was able to break down like that with them, cause he just could. Something reassuring in Casey’s comment though.

“I’m ‘ere.”

Raph nodded his head he still couldn’t get words out, fuck, he breathed in heavily trying his best to clam himself to sooth his tears to at least tell them he loved that poem. He wanted to memorize every word they just said. He wanted it in Casey’s voice though. It couldn’t be in his voice. Both hands gripping onto the front of Casey’s hoodie now. There was no way Raphael could say anything remotely close to even nice. That’s why he wanted to memorize exactly how Casey said all of that to him. From Raph it be a lie, but Casey? never he could trust it from Casey. “I’m..fine” he manages out “just..fuck” Near burrowing into Casey’s chest now as he gripped tighter on to them. “ I love ya...so fuckn’ much Case” was all he could get out before falling quite once more. Well as quite as a sniffling turtle could be.

[milliumizoomi]

So bakugo and his s/o were playing fight and they started choking each other to see who would give in first but both of them are stubborn asf lmao They just kept going they weren't even playing no more so they both pass out and denki saw the whole thing and got a video sent it to everyone in class 1-A now it's an inside joke but bakugo and his s/o doesn't even

CHOKEHOLD

Pairings: Bakugou x POC Fem! Reader

Warnings: Strong willed y/n, fluff & crack.

A/n: this request is hilarious to me. This was fun writing so thanks you for the request💕💕.

Your’s and Bakugou’s relationship was nothing ordinary to say in the least. With both of you very loud mouthed and determined it was best to say you were a dynamic duo. If you were in a tag team argument, the other people wouldn’t even stand a chance. But you also had a playful attitude. And you use that attitude to annoy the living shit out of him. You’d always find some way poke at him and make him annoyed.

One day, you were in his dorm lying on his bed. He was at his computer in his room, studying for exams that was coming up. While you layed there on his bed, scrolling through your phone, you quickly got bored. You shut your phone off and threw beside you on the bed. You turned your head to look at your focused boyfriend. You looked at his relaxed features as he flipped the page of his textbook. He felt eyes on him as he shifted his eyes to look at you. When you realized he went to look at you, you quickly turned away.

He studied you some more before shrugging it off and going back to his textbook. You turned back to look at him and then grinned evilly. You were thankful that your boyfriend didn’t see your huge puffs bobbing off the bed and behind him. You slowly stood up and once again prayed to god that he didn’t sense your presence. You then slowly leaned down and bit him on his bicep. “AH WHAT THE FUCK!!" Bakugou yelled. He swatted you away as you fell to the laughing your ass off. "THE HELL YOU DID THAT FOR NERD?!” He questioned. You looked up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you said, “I just wanted to.” After that, more events like this occurred.

This day in particular is when some stuff happened.

You weren’t in the hero course, you were in Support Item Course . So you and Bakugou don’t tend to see each other in classes. And on a very.. interesting day, something rather out of the ordinary happened that had all of class 1-A shocked. Mr. Aizawa had all of the class go to the Department of Support part of school to see what the students would need or would like to add to the hero costumes.

As class 1-A entered the Support room, Mr. Power Loader was there to greet them. “Hello students, today the support course students will be helping you on adjustments and upgrades on your hero costumes. If you need help, Mr. Aizawa and I will be in the teachers lounge” he said as he turned to leave. As he and Mr. Aizawa began to walk out, Mr. Aizawa turned back to the students and said, “I need you all to behave. We will be back by the end of the period so you need to decide now what adjustments and update you would like your hero costumes to have. You all will be in pairs and the names of who is with who is in that box over there. The room you are assigned to go to will also be there.” They began to leave and Mr. Power Loader called in his support course students into the room.

As the support course students walked into the room, everyone was assigned in pairs. So one support course student with one student from the hero course.

Bakugou’s eyes widened and his mouth went dry. You walked in talking to Hatsume wearing most of the old clothes that were his. You were wearing a white tank top that couldn’t fit him anymore, black overalls with the top part hung down and one of his old jackets tied around your waist. Your kinky hair was pulled up into a high puff and you had grease on your face as if you were working on something else before class 1-A walked in.

You looked at him and smiled. His face broke out in a light blush as he grumbled and looked away. You ended up being paired up with him and you were sent to your assigned room.

You two walked through the hallway and soon made it to the room. As soon as you hours made it into the room, you then looked up at Bakugou and your face broke out into an evil smile as you launched yourself at him. You grabbed his head and put him in a chokehold and started to nuzzle his head. “Hi sweetie! Bet you won’t get outta this one!” You laughed as you held onto his head tighter when he tried to wiggle himself out of your hold. “NERD LET ME GO!” He screams at you. “NEVER!” You yelled. Eventually he got free and you were jumping an tables and chairs to escape him as he ran after you. “HELL NO ‘SUKI! ACK! BOY GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME I AINT LETTIN’ YOU FUCK UP MY HAIR!" You screamed as he chased you. He eventually caught you but you in a chokehold. “I ain’t lettin’ you go till you give!” He said as he tightened his grip slightly on you. “W-well.. looks like we finna be here for a while then” you challenge. This went on for a while until you managed to get out of his grip. He then started chase you again to get you back into the chokehold. But you finessed him and he was now the one back into your grip. “AHA BITCH! YOU PLAYED YOURSELF!” You cackled at him. “NO DIPSHIT YOU PLAYED YOURSELF!” He grinned evilly. The next thing you know his own hands come up to your neck and he puts you in a chokehold too. “BOY-“ you said as your grip tightened. “What?! CANT TAKE IT?!” He challenged. “PLEASE THIS AINT NUN’” you said back.

As this was happening, Denki just happened to passing by. He had gotten lost going to the room he was assigned. As he passed by the room you and Bakugou were in, he heard the commotion going on the room. He tiptoed closer to the door and rested his head on the door. He heard the struggle through the door and started to wonder ‘what the hell is going on in there??’ He peered the door open and peeked his head through. His eyes widened at the sight of you and Bakugou having each other in a chokehold. He had to stifle his laugh. You looked like you were about to stumbled and hit your head while Bakugou was turning blue. He took his phone out and started to record what was happening. He stood there for about 5 more minutes recording you both with his phone and watching the two of you struggle in each other’s hold and at this point tears were streaming down his face. “Dude what the fuck..! Their still going at it” he whispered to himself and the video. He could tell that you guys were serious about this now because both of your grips kept getting tighter and tighter. Literally 1 minute later, both you and Bakugou just drop. You both just passed out.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA!” Kaminari cackled and jumped from behind the door. He had stopped recording but was still laughing ‘til he couldn’t breathe. While he was still laughing, he sent the video to all of class 1-A. He sent it with the text attachment, ‘Hey guys you HAVE to see this💀💀.’

After that day, that’s when the inside joke started. But somehow you guys didn’t even get in trouble for not completing what you were assigned to do. But back to the main point, whenever somebody from class 1-A would see you and Bakugou together they would laugh to each other and go “choking is lethal ain’t it.” And you and Bakugou would be so confused because you don’t remember anything from that day at all. You would just stare at them with a blank expression. Then when you would ask they would say “don’t worry about it.” At this point the whole class knew you two were dating which makes it so much funnier. And truth be told you guys never figured out that joke at all.

©Property of sunaslilone. Please don’t rectify, repost or modify without my permission.

Taglist: @uniquabackyardigans @haikyu-whore @kiribis-confesion-page @gm4176 (Open ! click here to be added!)

[albino-whumpee]

The pet´s party from Sann´s POV

So, I love writing from Sann´s point of view because it´s all so wildly different for him from Albus position. And thought “HEY, it would be cool to write The pet´s party, from Sann´s point of view!” and so, I did. Hope you like it!

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @grizzlie70  @twistedcaretaker @rosesareviolentlyread @whumpasaurus101

TW// dehumanization, slavery, noncon drug use, dub con, burning, torture, food mention, abuse, non con touching, conditioning, public humilliation, alcohol, Insulting language. Some N*SFW at some points.

Sann´s hair mussed up when the hood was taken off with a swift pull. Maybe a bit harsh as he stumbled on his feet as Robert sat him on the bed.

Sann noticed it was already night outside. He had stayed tied inside the closet for a whole day? No wonder his stomach was growling so loud. The thought of Robert giving him food and petting his hair passed through his head like an intoxicating placebo. Last time someone had fed him was the cook. He had made him eat off it with his hands in a corner like a feral animal.

“No touching my soup, understood?” The man snarled, tugging on the ring of his collar. Afraid eyes stared back at him. “I´m not gonna lose my job because I had to discipline a pampered pet again” he threw him to the floor with a scuff, Sann straightened up to energically nod and moved his lips to form grateful words as the man served him the scraps into a bowl.

When the man was gone, Sann passed his fingers over the burn mark on his wrist as he kept on eating. Back on December, he had turned the stove off when it was overflowing and the man thought he had caught him trying to steal food. Robert had only looked when he pressed his wrist against the hot metal of the pot. 

A pitiful sob escaped his lips as he took another bite. Remembering the cream Zarai rubbed on it when he stayed at her home back on Christmas. It had felt nice. As it had been each and every single one of the very few times his master dragged him to the woman´s house. 

Albus carefulness and cheerful attitude as he secretly tended to some of his injuries, made a smile appear on his bruised face.

He felt safe when he was with them.

At least with them he wasn´t thrown into closets for a full day for the simple crime of having the face he had.

For a moment the band playing outside distracted him from Robert´s tight grip on his wrists as he worked a rope between them. A little whine came out as he made the knot way too tight, but the man didn´t care. When Robert let go, Sann tried to rub his wrists a bit against his inner leg, to put his best face, but the man ignored him.

“Be patient my little whore. I got you a little present tonight” he said lifting his chin and brushing a thumb over his lips. Sann sneaked a quick peck on them before he threw him to a side. Sann´s reflexes were quick enough to avoid him falling off the bed.

Robert walked to the pot on the drawer right below Albus´s paint and took out a small bottle. His steps were heavy and his eyes bloodshot red. He was high. Sann held the urge to paddle back into a corner. If his master was usually aggressive, when he was high he was even worse.

Robert opened up the bottle and drank it after rubbing some into his lips. Then he walked to Sann and seized his hair, just to slam his lips together. Sann gave in to the kiss and pressed harder, a bit of his anxiety wearing off. However, Robert spit the liquid into his mouth and pulled away, shutting his mouth with his hand.

“Swallow” Sann´s eyes widened “Swallow” he repeated on a tone that promised nothing good if it wasn´t obeyed. Sann swallowed and gasped for air when the man let him go. Wiping off his lips with his shirt and then reaching to a glass of water. Drinking it whole to spit it out back on it.

After a few seconds the effect hit him. Hard. His head felt puffy and heavy. Making it fall to a side as he tried to balance himself. Failing miserably, he fell on the bed, his body growing hotter and hotter.

He didn´t even notice Robert had put the leash on him until he was forced up by it. A little groan came out and Robert tugged it harder. Lifting him up the bed and forcing him to stand when the collar bit on his skin.

“Now, you´ve been such a good boy. I´m gonna show you something good” he said swiping out his phone. It was some photos of a tied up albino. Maybe a box boy as well, as the positions were fairly similar to the ones romantics did. Sann looked closer. An albino… he was taken aaback when he recognized Albus. Guilty of the sudden peak on his pants, he looked up to his master´s grin “Quite erotic, aint it? You two have a lot in common! Both are whores on request” he laughed.

Sann shook his head. He remembered Albus telling him he was a platonic. He wouldn´t lie to him. Sann tried to remember more but his mind muddled. The maddening blaze under his shorts reminding him how urgently he needed to be taken care of. A moan escaped his lips when Robert passed his hand right over the sensitive spot. So deliciously cool his bound hands gripped on the man´s shirt.

“You want him don´t you?” The man whispered into his ear making Sann´s heart stop “You want him to touch you like this…” Sann pulled his head back in a breathy wheeze as his master pulled on his pierced nipples and rubbed his hand against the inner part of his thigh. Really close to where the fire was worse, teasing over the plastic covering the tip as his mind melted, getting high with how good it felt to be touched again “And hear him say…” Sann could swear he felt the warm hands of the albino over his skin instead of his master´s. The voice that whispered into his ear, the sweet and caring of the other boy “You´re mine”

Sann nodded unconsciously, mind filled with pleasure. Couldn´t say he hadn´t thought about it before. On Zarai´s house when they had laid on the garden and interwined hands. He remembered the albino leaning on to him. But he pulled away at the last second. He regretted now not pulling him closer, ask for permission to seal their lips together. The boy had kissed his hand, his cheek, carefully. He had been so shy and soft, it made him happy. Feverish with the drugs, he imagined the albino going further, grabbing his hair and…

The tug on his leash took him out of his fantasies.

“You want him so much, if he asked you to spread your legs, you would happily offer your holes without even thinking about what I would do to you, wouldn´t you, slut?” If Sann wasn´t so drugged, he would have understood why he shouldn´t have smiled. Mistaking the sweet tone of his master for praise. Not getting any clearer as he brushed a thumb over his cheek. Hazy eyes stared at him drunk in the affection “It´s alright. You two look so cute dancing in my hand. So dumbly oblivious...” Robert tucked some of Sann´s caramel hair behind his ear and pulled him closer, noses touching “Put your butt out for him and keep playing, yes? My sweet little slut…”

Sann blinked, trying to nod, not knowing he was being dragged out of the room by a servant. Noticing the crowd only when hands started raining down on him. He thought it was another one of those parties Jefferson and Robert held. But when he felt a sharp pull on his neck that brought him to his knees, and saw Albus in the distance calling for him, he discarded it.

“Albus!” his mind went, making him gather enough energy to lift himself up, but failing to stand.

He heard laughs, so loud it drilled on his ears. Everything was a blur of unbearable heat. If he wanted someone in specific to take him out of that burning inferno his body needed someone else to freeze, it was Albus.

He didn´t hear what Robert was saying, nor put the effort to understand him, but he felt such a relief when he put his hand out for him to lean on. Thanked him with a kiss on the wrist, before he was pulled up and shown around. Just to drop down again dry. The sudden change, made him dizzier.

“Don´t be shy, please” he told himself as he saw him walking on his direction. “Don´t hold back. I want you”

“Postition 28″ Robert´s voice echoed on his head. His body moved with the invisible strings he loved pulling whenever.

“See? I´ll be good. I´ll show you...”

Sann only lifted his head up when he felt another pull on his collar. His eyes fell on Albus. He didn´t look happy… Sann followed him with his eyes to where Robert was, watched him stand there for a second before his master ruffled his hair and then walked to him.

He shifted on his knees unable to hold his excitement, almost letting a moan out when the boy´s coat covered his back. With a sheepish smile on his lips, Albus cupped his face.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes” he thought to himself as he kissed his hand and wrist. Wondering if that would please him. It didn´t seem to, as he backed away with a horrified face. Sann let him untie his wrists. Red marks telling how tight it was. He would show him he could do better then.

He jumped on him, arms falling over his shoulders as he pressed their lips together. Using the technique from the facility that would assure his master´s pleasure, but Albus threw him off him and covered his mouth with his hand, flushed red.

“He didn´t like it?” he thought, letting out a sad whine.

When he cupped his face again, he was thinking on how to please him. Something that would make him happy… 

“Look at me. C´mon Sann, look at me” 

He obeyed and look into his eyes.  Sann was desperately trying to think of something that kept the cool hands on his skin, trying to hold back the tears prickling behind his eyes  “You´re drugged. This is not what you want to do. Not like this”  

Sann didn´t understand his words. He tapped on his thigh, going up slowly. But he only gripped his wrist tight.

“No, Sann” he said pulling his hand down.

He was running out of ideas, and the blaze was coming back. So he leaned on him. Aiming for the mouth, slowly building his way to it. The boy´s smell was so sweet as well. But that only made Albus whip his head to a side. 

Feeling the fire of frustration and anxiety taking over, he grabbed his chin and made him look at him.

He didn´t want it, he needed it. For the first time since he was his Master´s pet, he wanted to kiss the man in front of him. Didn´t he want that too?

They locked eyes and Sann froze. He didn´t know he could make that face. He looked…hurt. 

”Come back, Sann. Please”  He said, trying to hold back tears as hard as he could, his voice breaking slightly in chocked sobs. Leaning on to Sann´s hand while covering it with his own. The cool sensation of a tear dripping into it clearing his mind from the fire “Please, stop…” he heard him say.

It felt like a slap back to reality. 

What was he doing? 

He was trying to make him happy the only way he knew… but that was only making him cry. Albus had always been so kind to him and how was he paying him back? He let him put down his hand, shoving down the uncomfortable feeling of the heat. 

He took a moment to remember, but he pulled his hand up and signed.

“Sorry” he signed sloppily. Albus seemed to cheer up and extend his arms. Inviting him to his chest. He was relieved he hadn´t fucked up enough for him to reject his apology and as the albino wrapped him on his arms, his whole body cooled off. The sensation only became stronger as Albus passed a hand through his hair.

He heard voices, but he was too focused on the sensations to care. Albus suddenly pulled him closer and it felt so good, he purred out of instinct. After a moment, he felt his chest heaving. Struggling to keep a sob down. He pulled his eyes up to see Albus crying. He didn´t know what or why that happened, but he hugged him tighter. Hoping it was comforting like how his hugs were.

It was a blur how he had gotten inside a car, but it was ok. The sky was painted pretty colors and Albus was next to him. The blaze was tolerable now. He felt safe.

He had learnt at the facility Masters were safe, but Albus wasn´t even a master and he was safe. Zarai wasn´t like the other friends of his Master he had to please with his body or with his screaming either.

The handlers were wrong.

He was only safe whenever Master wasn´t around.

Sann felt Albus drop his head on his. He held his hand and squeezed it, putting a smile on his face as they drove to the highway. Away from Robert.

As he caught sight of the last of stars before dawn, he wished, he prayed, he didn´t have to go back to that house.

[tchallasbabymama]

Potential Breakup Fic

Yes, this is inspired by the re-release of the classic “Potential Breakup Song” by legends Aly & AJ. Check out the rest of my Masterlist HERE. Enjoy!

Word count: 2223

CW: Niggas aint shit. Kiana sat on her couch and tried not to cry into her glass of merlot. She took off her heels and got up to unzip her dress and take off her bra since she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She checked her phone again and was met with an empty screen. No notifications, no missed calls. She threw her phone down in anger, and was thankful when she noticed the screen didn’t crack.

“I can't believe this nigga.”

She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was 12:07am, and her 25th birthday was officially over without so much as a word from her boyfriend. Just last night he had told her to be ready by 7, and she hadn't heard from him since.

They had been together, on and off, for three years. They met their junior year at Howard, but didn’t hit it off right away. He was too slick for her liking, but over time he eventually weaseled his way into her heart. His smile lit up the whole room and his big brown eyes could seduce anyone just like that. And he did, constantly. T’Challa was a huge flirt, and it was cute when they were still single and just getting to know each other, but even now T’Challa turns his charm on for every pretty face he sees. Kiana had brought it up to him many times, letting him know how disrespected she felt. He would always say the same thing.

“But entle, I’m just being nice. You know I only have eyes for you.”

She did know that once, but that ended about a year and a half ago when she was casually scrolling through twitter on his phone and caught him cheating.

“T’Challa!”

“Yes, my love?”

“What the fuck is this?!”

“Why are you on my phone?!”

“Don't fucking raise your voice at me, I’m not in the wrong here. I saw a funny tweet and started scrolling when YOU got a text from some bitch named Jasmine talking bout ‘I miss you daddy’ and sending you pictures of her pussy. Care to explain?”

He reached for the phone and she pulled it away from him.

“Nah-uh, talk.”

He sighed in exasperation. 

“If you give me the phone I can explain, sithan-”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me, answer the goddamn question. How long, T’Challa?!”

“Just once. Eh, one and a half maybe-”

He was interrupted by a throw pillow to the head.

“How the fuck do you halfway cheat nigga?!”

“She just gave me head the first ti-”

“That’s still cheating!”

“Will you lower your voice? You have neighbors.”

“Fuck! Them! Did you even use a condom?”

“Yes, Kiana I’m not-”

“Stupid? You’re not stupid?” Kiana laughed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“My love, I-”

“Oh now I’m your love? Where the fuck was that energy when you were balls deep in this other bitch?!”

T’Challa stood there dumbstruck. He had never seen Kiana get this angry and didn’t know what to say. He knew he was wrong when he did it, but seeing the tears streaming down her face made him truly regret what he’d done. She had been so busy with school and work that she barely had time for him anymore. He had needs and just so happened to stumble upon someone more than willing to fulfil them. 

He cursed himself for not locking his phone or at the very least, turning it over. 

“How many, T’Challa...” Kiana sniffled.

“I told you, it was only twice-”

“How many women?!”

He froze, not knowing if he should mention Lisa since that was so much earlier in their relationship.

“Oh my god...oh my god...oh my- are you fucking serious?! I-I have to...I have to go get tested, I-”

“Kia-”

“What?!”

She looked at him with such fierceness that he shrunk under her gaze.

“I-I am sorry, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I was-”

He was stopped by a heavy-handed slap across his cheek that nearly knocked him over.

“Get the fuck out.” She said, barely above a whisper.

Six months later they ran into each other in the grocery store and decided to catch up over a cup of coffee. Kiana had healed and moved on, but T’Challa was still stuck on her. They had spent almost two good years together before he ruined what they had, and he just couldn’t let it go. He loved her, and he was determined to make it work this time.

Or so he really, truly thought before he met Marci...and Tanisha...

T’Challa knew he wasn’t a one-woman man, but he just couldn’t let Kiana go. His dalliances were never serious, just enough to scratch his constant itching. Sometimes they were a one-time thing, but others stuck around if they were good enough and knew how to be discreet. No matter what though, he always came back home to Kiana because despite his trash behavior, he really did love her in his own toxic way.

However, he didn’t love her enough to double check his calendar before leaving work on her birthday, or any day leading up to it. He had forgotten what day it was, and when he told Kiana to be ready at 7 he just meant for a regular date night. 

It had been a long day at the Wakandan Embassy and Kiana’s Prince Charming needed a drink more than anything. He stopped at the first bar he came across that looked halfway decent. T’Challa walked up to the bar and caught the eye of the beautiful barkeep.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?”

T’Challa smiled his panty-dropping smile and she smiled back, revealing her perfect, white teeth. There was nothing he loved more than a pretty smile.

“Well, miss…”

“Tanisha,” she responded while using both arms to mix a shaker full of liquid courage and ice. His eyes avoided her chest, slyly watching in the periphery only. 

“Well, Miss Tanisha, I had a horrible day at work and I am in need of a whiskey on the rocks. Preferably Jack, but truly anything will do.”

“We all have those days honey. Here’s a double on the house,” she said as she slid the drink to him across the bar top with a wink.

T’Challa licked his lips and lifted his glass to her before taking a sip of the warm amber liquid. He let out a sigh and his day seemed to melt away. 

Tanisha kept coming back to check on him and they would chat when the crowd died down. T’Challa was on his third double when she came over with a plate of wings.

“You’re an angel.” He dug into the wings and made a complete mess on his shirt, so he went to the bathroom to try to wash the stain out. On his way back to the bar he noticed a very tall and sweaty man leaning over the bar trying to talk to Tanisha. From what he could see, she wasn’t feeling the conversation, but he kept approaching her anyway. When T’Challa returned to his seat she immediately gravitated towards him. This angered Mr. Tall and Sweaty, who drunkenly attempted to punch T’Challa in the face. T’Challa dodged the lazy punch and knocked him out cold with one hit. Security saw the whole thing go down, and removed Tall and Sweaty from the building once he came to. 

“What you got planned for the night, handsome?”

“Nothing at all, why do you ask?”

“I get off at 9, wanna hang out?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, now here’s a water.”

“Thank you, angel.”

By 10pm he was already halfway inside her, and when his phone started vibrating he was too wrapped up in her to think anything of it. Without looking he quieted the annoying sound and turned the phone off so he could focus on the task at hand.

Two and a half hours later, T’Challa was creeping out of Tanisha’s bed right as Kiana was sliding into hers. She had washed off all her makeup, but she didn’t have the emotional energy to tie up her hair. Normally she would wear one of T’Challa’s t-shirts, but she was too angry with him so she slept in a cute nighty she never wore. She admired herself in the mirror for half a second before bursting into tears and pulling the covers up to her head. She tried to stop crying, but the tears kept coming and she eventually gave herself a headache. How could he miss her birthday?

Kiana got up and threw on her plush maroon robe before she padded to the bathroom to grab some Advil. On the way she noticed her phone getting multiple notifications, the first of which was from her best friend Bebe.

“Have u seen this?! Sis, I’m so sorry. When we slashing his tires? Just 3 tho, this nigga needs to pay $$$.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?”

Kiana clicked the link and saw that it was Bebe’s cousin Darrell’s Instagram Story. Apparently there was a fight at the bar where he was celebrating a coworker’s promotion and he had filmed it for all of Instagram to see. Kayla stared at her phone in shock. There was her aint-shit boyfriend at a goddamn bar on her fucking birthday. She watched him punch a guy in the face on her birthday. At a bar. Without her.

She thought the kicker came when she saw him turn around and flirt with the bartender, but the story after that just about killed her. There he was, leading her out the back door with his hand too far down on her lower back to be simply platonic. Even the caption read “Ooooh someone’s about to get some ‘thank you’ pussy. That damsel in distress pussy hit different!”

Kiana saw red and almost cracked her phone for a second time tonight. 

She grabbed the remaining merlot and downed it before throwing the bottle at the picture of them on the fridge. She watched the glass shatter and cut their faces while the trace bit of deep red wine seeped down the picture like blood. She wanted to trash the whole place, but remembered she would have to clean it later. Kiana started to hyperventilate and felt like she needed to get some air when she heard the lock turn.

“Kiki, what are you doin- are you ok? What happened here?”

Kiana ignored him as she walked towards where she threw her phone, silently pulling up the story and handing it to him. She watched his face go from confused, to shocked, to fearful. No regret, though. 

“Ki-”

“Give me your key.”

“Kiana, please let me-”

“The key. Now,” she said with her voice completely devoid of any emotion.

T’Challa assumed she would be angry and yell or throw things, but this quiet storm terrified him. To him, it felt like she didn’t even care anymore. He was right.

He slowly reached his hand out and she snatched the key ring, removing hers and tossing the rest back to him.

“I’ll have your stuff packed by the morning. It’ll be outside my door by 8am. If it’s still there when I get back from work it’s going in the trash.”

T’Challa couldn’t bear the coldness in her voice. Tears rolled down his face and his knees buckled.

“Kiana, please. I can explain, I didn-”

“I don't give a fuck what you did or didnt do. You know why?”

“W-why?”

“Because it was my birthday, T’Challa. MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY and YOU forgot it. Not only did you forget it, my gift was you fucking some other bitch and leaving me lonely yet again. So no, I don't care if you fucked her or not even though I know your sorry ass did. I know she’s probably not the only one because I saw how easily you slid on in there in that video. You were way too comfortable, so I don't even want to ask you how many because it doesnt fucking matter anymore. Now you can stick your dick in every fine ass Black girl you see without remorse, oh wait...you were already doing that. So fuck you, get out my apartment before I call my brothers.”

“Kiana…”

“5, 4, 3,...” Kiana counted as she dialed her eldest brother Trey’s number, ignoring T'Challa's pathetic excuses. “2, 1… Hey Trey, I’m sorry did I wake you up?...Yeah I have a situat- oh look at that, his bitch ass is leaving-”

“I am sorry, Kiana,” T’Challa said one last time before she slammed the door in his face. He could hear her on the other side of the door explaining the situation to her brother, and when she started to cry it finally hit him. Her wails broke his spirit and more tears fell from his eyes. 

He knew Trey would be over soon to comfort his baby sister and he needed to get the hell out of dodge, so T’Challa left Kiana’s apartment and never came back. Not even for his things, which turned out to be the best thing for Kiana because she and her girls got to burn it all up in Trey’s backyard fire pit and finally release that toxic man from her life.

[thecandywrites]

Of Heaven and Fire Part 7

P

Woo, do we have more characters to introduce you to. Ok, obviously- upper right is inside a hurricane, now imagine more angel looking creatures flying on the inside of it, all of them glittering like gold and diamonds and pearls. Upper middle ish- what a moura mark looks like- now imagine it gold, and at the base of your skull where your head meets your neck. Yes it takes up most of the back of your neck. Yes each one is very intricate and henna styled but different and unique among individuals, like a fingerprint. Ok, once that chain and cuff came off, that silkver rope thing was still there, tied similarly to that, but invisable and while Benyana could feel the effects of it, she couldn’t physically feel it tied around her. Upper right- Benyana. 

Now for the guys underneath those pictures. From left to right, Crown Prince Cordene, the son of Crown Prince Delmal who we met in the last part. Next to/ the right of/ him- Lord Suriel, Remiel’s apprentice in the royal court of the crystal angels. to his right, the Lord Ralitar- a minor prince, tasked with finding Benyana, we’ll get to know him later and next to him is the fae Prince Matae. And then if you’ve ever seen Sinbad where Eris pulls Sinbad under the water and how HUGE she is at first- yeah, grandma. 

Now the last row- Prince Oriles, think little mermaid but...higher fantasy-ier? And more creature-ish (I know those aren’t really words.) and of course Benyana as a siren, then we have the next to are sirens/mermen who were totally part of that orgy. and last but not least- Brock. He’s so outmanned and outgunned it aint even funny. Luckily our girl is on his side. Caution, the next few parts are gonna be that carcrash that collided with a dumpster fire. It’s gonna get MESSY. I can’t wait. Now, go get some popcorn and/or twinkies and some wine, or any other beverage you prefer. 

Also this is going to be relavent- (I’m sorry that gif looks like it’s having a siezure but it’s all I have)

Tagging @probablyclever​ @imherefortheforthefanart​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ and if anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know. 

Of Heaven and Fire 

Part 7

You woke up to Brock pressing soft kisses into the crown of your head as his arms were wrapped comfortably around you as your body was still pressed up against his. His warmth radiating off of him and seeping into you until you were positively saturated with it and felt it in every inch of you. 

“Good morning.” He purred when you woke up, a smile blooming on your face as you stretched out before you relaxed fully against him once more. 

“Good morning.” You mirrored, a lazy, sleepy but still sated smile on your lips before he dipped his head down and kissed you good morning, a kiss you returned as you were once again relieved that he was ok, he was safe and sound and having him this close made you feel happy, you could protect him as long as he was near you, the closer the better as you reached around him and started to scratch his back. 

“Oh, oh, that feels glorious.” He praised as he gently scooched you back to lay on his belly so you could access all of his back as you giggled and obliged, scratching all over before you moved up and moved his thick braids away from the back of his neck before you were met with a golden tattoo on the back of his neck which made you pause. 

All mouras were born with a golden tattoo on the base of their skull where their heads met their necks, usually over an eighth vertebra in their neck since moura’s had naturally long and graceful necks like any proper bird, usually their moura cloak originated from this mark, it was unique like a fingerprint and their moura cloak would have a golden design on it that matched this mark exactly and when the moura cloak laid over this, the moura cloak would stay active, but- if a moura cloak were taken off, and perhaps buried, there was a gold piece of metal, that looked like a metal collar of a dress shirt that would remain once the actual feathers rotted away. A moura cloak could be revived and grow out again IF it was reattached to the wearer and you would bet your life that there was a gold collar belonging to him in TriKeng’s estate, either buried in his garden or in a jewelry box or something, he must have hundreds of them by now, stored away because the gold collars are otherwise indestructible, impossible to melt down or hammer apart or destroyed by any means. The other way to revive it was to be born again in the ashes then the collar would turn to dust wherever it was and reappear on you after you were reborn. 

“I see you found my birthmark.” He noted, his voice muffled by your pillow before you traced the pattern, happy he couldn’t see your bittersweet face as you did so. 

“Are you the only one in your family with it?” You asked, forcing your tone to be casual as you traced it, it was a gorgeous mark and it complemented his green skin incredibly well before you wrapped your hands around his neck and massaged it, giving yourself to opportunity to feel the vertebrae in his neck as he moaned out a pleasured groan, counting the vertebrae in his neck and counting down from his skull. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven...and eight and you forced yourself not to cry. What a different life he and his family could have had if TriKeng hadn’t been a selfish purist as you realized if TriKeng had actually allowed his mother and her sister in the colony, and welcomed orcs in, you would have grown up with him. He would have absolutely been your friend, possibly a childhood sweetheart and all this mess would have never happened. All because of TriKeng who was the real enemy in all this. You had to figure out a way to get Brock and his family the justice they deserved. 

“No, all my siblings and my cousins have a mark like it, but not exactly.” He answered. “But in my clan it’s only my mother and her sister and their children who have it,.” He revealed. 

“It’s beautiful.” You praised in a low murmur. 

“Thanks.” He smiled as you made a mental note not to let him see yours. 

“I noticed last night your tattoos glowed…” You prompted as you traced them over his body before you got to his side which made him squirm, he must have been ticklish which gave you a lopsided grin. 

“Yeah, they’ve been doing that a lot lately, it’s honestly, really weird and it freaks most people out.” He answered honestly as you hummed thoughtfully as you realized all those merpeople, that’s what they found most entertaining, is to see you light up as you realized, if anything you were just a passing distraction and fling to them, which you were ok with. Honestly they were that to you too and frankly you didn’t care if you ever saw them again or not. It had been a fun evening, a wild night- that was for sure. But one that you didn’t want or need repeated now that Brock had effectively rocked your world right. 

“I noticed your marks do the same, is it a moura thing?” He asked. 

“Not necessarily, lots of species have bioluminescence, does it ever hurt for them to light up?” You asked thoughtfully. 

“No, actually it feels good.” He answered. 

“Good.” You nodded. 

“So why do yours light up?” He asked as he turned to look at you which made you smile bashfully as a deep blush dusted your cheeks. 

“Well they light up when we heal, as a siren though they were always on, which was nice because deeper water is really dark.” You deflected. 

“And obviously when you have sex.” Brock pointed out, bringing you right back to the point. 

“They do, but that in itself can be a downside. You grow up seeing your parents room light up a lot and once you’re old enough to understand what’s going on it can be embarrassing and keep you up at night, your older siblings when they reach sexual maturity get sexually frustrated easily and the only thing that can keep the light out is heavy furs which in the summertime is inconvenient because you’re already hot and especially when there is already so many of you sharing a room, you start to get snappy with each other and most in the colony have special doors and shutters on their windows to keep the light in so the whole neighborhood can keep their nose out of your business and apartments with these light proof rooms go for quite a bit of money.” You explained. 

“Like how much money?” He asked curiously. 

“Well, moura money is in silver, in a colony where everyone can turn everything into gold, moura gold is nothing- that’s what you give the merchants and outsiders, silver and copper is what you use with everyone else in the colony and what you ask for in change from the merchants, true gold however is rare and especially precious and of course hoarded whenever possible. So a decent apartment with the light features goes for about 500 silver ryal a month.” You answered. 

“So what’s the difference between moura gold and true gold?" He asked. 

“Moura gold behaves like wet clay in the hands of a moura, true gold doesn’t, all merchants think that moura coins are minted to be disks that are slightly curved and printed with a finger print.” You answered as you grabbed a seashell that was used to decorate the wall and turned it to gold and then smooshed it like wet clay and made yourself your own moura gold coin that was slightly curved like your thrumb before you gave it to him and held your breath to see if he had that ability without his cloak as he took it and tried to bend it with his teeth but it wouldn’t budge which made you blow out a silent breath of relief after he gave it back and settled back onto his belly so you could keep scratching his back. 

“So that’s why most couples choose to build their own house, carving a place out in the mountain sides and engineering a way to get water into it by pumps and pipes so that each home has plumbing, both to bring water into the house and waste out of it and to catch rain water, a feat made easy since you can buy all the tools and materials from merchants for moura gold which they have no idea is any different and I would greatly appreaciate it if you kept this a secret, mouras can lose everything if this is found out.” You urged him. 

“On my honor, I won’t tell a soul.” He vowed which two weeks ago you would have made a snappy comeback to but now, it gave you relief and comfort to hear. 

“So with all that considered it’s much cheaper to build a house than it is to rent one, but the location of the house is just as important as the size or kind it is. Houses close to the markets are prime realestate so you don’t have to drag or carry your goods home since most of the passages are too thin for a cart but are ok for a wheelbarrows. The colonies have sectors because many different kinds of moura can make up a colony and so the royal moura who leave the courts to live with us, each court has its own aesthetic and they still like to settle in the part of the city that reminds them of home and each areas compete to see who can build the prettiest buildings or people compete to see who can build the prettiest houses or most decorated areas of town. Usually the bigger the house- the more kids you want and some want to get as far away from their parents as possible and some want to stay as close as possible but mostly location matters if you want to set up a shop, most places, the bottom floor is the shop and the upper floors are the house and moura’s number 1 product is food, food of all kinds there’s entire centers that are hawker centers near the heart of the city where you can go and get dumplings and noodles from the orient- curries from the spice district or all these different kinds of ales from a brewery or even colony specific foods because each colony has it’s own unique dishes it created upon it’s being built, that’s why merchants come from far and wide to sell food stuffs and especially spices of all kinds.” You explained. 

“So what are your preferences for food?” He asked. 

“Honestly I love it all, but I gotta say seafood is really high up there, that crab and those scallops and shrimp especially” You answered with a fond smile which he returned as his face turned towards you. 

“So what’s your preference for a house?” He asked thoughtfully. Oh. Oh gods. Fuck. Your KNEES just got week and you weren’t even on them as a thought of how magnificent he would look building you a house danced in your head. You wondered if he would ever consider leaving the business of warchief behind to live in Suchi, if he would be happy there. Or would you be happy somewhere else? Perhaps, in his clan, on the lovely river with the sound of the sea always in your ears. 

“I don’t know, honestly I like a little bit of everything. But having been away from home, I miss my family like crazy, but being away from them has given me opportunities to experience things I probably never would have. I would have never known I had family in the oceans if I hadn’t been on a boat.” You answered and you could see the guilt Brock tried to cover over in his own expression.  

“Wait you have family down there?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, it was my grandma that pulled me from the hold. She lives in a nice cave, she’s lined one of her walls with sunken ships and keeps a really big blind shark as a pet and a volcanic vent in the cave keeps things warm and cozy. And it was she who introduced me to the dragons, Yingshen and Pantaou and they are very much old oriental water dragons, guarding a huge nest of eggs that sits on top of the vents and there are huge, just huge schools of fish that swim around the rich waters and the floor is just crawling with crabs and huge lobsters but because it’s so close to the nest, there’s no way to get at any of them because the eggs themselves are delicate and if a crab pod were to land say on an egg, I’m pretty sure they would damage the egg and those dragons would not hesitate to kill whoever was responsible for putting their fishing stuff over the nest.” You answered. 

“So what does your grandma look like?” He asked because he had had the most horrific nightmare last night of a huge siren trying to eat him. 

“Oh she’s probably two to three times as big as this ship, if not bigger, the deeper things live and the older they get the bigger they get apparently, although my grandma was the only really big siren I met, all the others were my size but they lived in shallower waters in coral reefs and stuff, of course me coming down there was a big deal because after I made that deal with the water dragons, my grandma took me to meet the rest of the family and I got to meet aunts and uncles and a whole school of cousins and all their friends and they got a clam that is- I shit you not- is as big as this bed and they cut it up for all of us to eat and it was really, really delicious, like I’m pretty sure anyone else would die trying to harvest them but man oh man were they good!” You retold with a fond smile. 

“So what made you come back?” He asked. 

“Well, actually I had a dream my grandma was trying to eat you for enslaving me and she’s big enough and mad enough right now to do both and I wouldn’t put it past her, like part of me really just wants to get you back to shore as soon as possible and I can not begin to tell you the panic I would feel if you were to leave my side right now, it’s ridiculous.” You explained as he rolled over onto his side to face you to listen attentively to you and his face was just fond and adoring as he considered you. Grateful that your connection was strong enough to share dreams now. 

“So what kind of beds do they have down there?” He asked, wanting to avoid the subject of your tethering, hoping that now that it wasn’t on you anymore that you would hopefully never bring it up again and hoping that now that you were no longer tethered, that it would be left in the past and that he would hopefully never have to admit what it really was. The fact that it came off proved that you now loved him. It wouldn’t have come off otherwise. You were his. And that’s all that mattered. Everything would be ok and together the two of you could solve all the problems that came against you as a couple. He would happily build you the biggest and best house in the clan, he would even model it after your own home if it meant you wouldn’t get homesick. He would even follow any and all moura courting rituals to make sure you felt that he did right by you and that you felt he earned your love and affections and respect. This hadn’t been nearly as hard as he thought it was gonna be. Now he was just going to enjoy the fruits of the now established relationship. 

“Um really big sea sponges and there was a cloth down there that they used for curtains and stuff and it felt like silk but not quite.” You answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask if you actually slept on one. 

“Sea silk.” He explained. 

“What’s sea silk?” You asked, hoping to distract him by veering the conversation away from the subject. 

“It’s a cloth that the merpeople make, I don’t know how they do it but it washes up on shore a lot but if it dries out, it shatters like dried out kelp but as long as it’s wet and stays wet- it’s fine.” He explained. 

“Huh.” You murmured as you stored that away mentally. 

“Well it’s good that you were with family, they took care of you, I thought whatever had taken you had eaten you shortly after.” He revealed as he scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you to himself again possessively which you didn’t mind one bit. 

“No,” you shook your head. . 

“So what kind of house do you want?” He asked and your cheeks blushed harder as your smile got giddy. 

“Well I guess that depends,” you began. 

“On?” He asked as his nose danced and encircled yours, his lips so torturously close to yours you could almost taste him as you gulped as lust started to haze your senses as your breathing started to labor again. 

“What I can build you?” He offered and the thought melted your heart and you couldn’t take it anymore, you kissed him, hard and murmured an ‘uh huh’ in confirmation as your leg hiked over his hip, your core already dripping in anticipation as it grinded down over his hardening cock before it was hard enough to spear you before you rolled him over to ride him, savoring the feeling of being joined with him as your moura marks lit up and pulsed again as you watched as his tattoos did the same while his eyes drank you in and watched as your lower belly bulged ever so slightly again as he started to fantasize what you’d be like pregnant with his child and it nearly sent him over the edge as he grabbed your hips and drove up into you as you had to brace yourself on his chest again, feeling his heart pound under your palm like a steady drum. 

“Gods I love you,” Brock professed and you just beamed before you bent over and kissed him hungrily so you wouldn’t have to answer if your mouth was already preoccupied because returning that didn’t feel...completely honest. Now that the shackle wasn’t on you anymore, you could sense you could lie again. at least partially but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be dishonest in this moment. You didn’t want to ruin it and instead you sped up, using every move you had to get him to cum as quickly as possible as your own climax quickly approached as his fingers sunk into your hips, to the point the softness dimpled around his fingertips as he helped move you on him before he rolled you over and really drove into you with much more power than you possessed and it was exactly what you needed to cum, your moura marks getting so bright both of you had to close your eyes to keep you both from going blind.  

Once your orgasm finally snapped and flooded you with euphoria and Brock had emptied himself again and you both rested and recovered and basked in the afterglow. 

“I love you so much.” He repeated. 

“I love you too.” You professed, his bright happy smile making the half truth seem like a whole one as he kissed you sweetly. 

“I love you more.” He returned. 

“Probably, yeah,” you giggled as he snorted a laugh. 

“Well, I’m a patient man, I don’t mind proving it to you every day until your love is as strong as mine.” He insisted. 

“That’s gonna be a long time, maybe even a lifetime.” You returned, keeping your tone light and teasing. 

“One worth living if it’s with you.” He returned confidently and you hugged him to hide your own guilty expression. Shit. Did you really want to live the rest of your life with him? Would you be happy? Was he really your mate? Well your moura marks shone that it was but right now- you weren’t so sure. 

“Ok,” you whispered in his ear as you kissed his cheek and his shoulder and buried all of your doubt before you heard Cugas knock on Brock’s door. 

“Brock! Get your ass up! We got a problem!” He hollered. 

“What’s wrong?” Brock hollered back. “What the fuck are you doing in Yana’s…” Cugas began before he opened your door to see Brock quickly covering both of you with the blanket and shield your body with his. 

“Hey! Hey! Knock bro.” Brock complained as Cugas just stood there, his eyes about to pop out of his head as his jaw hit the floor before he quickly slammed the door shut, splintering the door and the door frame as you and Brock dissolved into giggles before he got off you as your moura cloak became an outfit once more before you wrapped a blanket around himself as he looked at his still sopping wet clothes on the floor. 

“Go and get some dry clothes.” You gently urged him before he agreed and took your blanket with him and left your room to see Cugas pacing the hallway about to have a crises as Brock quickly went from your room to his own as you walked over to where the chain had been thrown and picked it up, keeping it away from you just in case it decided to reach out to grab you again like it had a life of it’s own like it was some kind of venemous snake. 

“What the hell?” Cugas asked as he came into your room to see you holding the chain as far away from you as you could.

“No way,” Cugas shook his head in disbelief as you laughed mirthlessly. 

“So what’s the problem?” You asked. 

“Uh, it’s just an entire school of merpeople and selkies and sirens as big as the fleet circling the ship demanding to see you.” Cugas explained. 

“Shit, make sure Brock doesn’t go near any windows and doesn’t come to the top deck or he’ll be snatched off the deck and drowned!” You quickly dropped the chain and pushed past him as you rushed down the hall. 

“Why?!” Cugas called after you. 

“Because they’re really here to kill him!” You answered over your shoulder as you sprouted wings once more and flew out of the first door and flew out of the ship like a bat out of hell before you swam over the water in the eye of the hurricane, watching as everything stopped swimming around the ship and swam so they were under you like a moth to a flame. 

“Well that’s the first thing to make sense all morning.” Cugas murmured to himself before Brock came out of his room, barely tucking his shirt into his pants. 

“Who’s here to kill me?” He asked before Cugas grabbed him and shoved him into his first mate’s room across the hall on the interior of the ship. 

“Everyone apparently.” Cugas answered. 

“What are we doing in here?” Brock asked. 

“Yana asked me to keep you away from the windows and off the top deck because apparently there’s a giant fucking school of selkies, mermaids and sirens, giant ones, circling the boat that have been demanding to see Yana and right now all the crew is hiding below deck because they will snatch anyone off the deck, I’ve had to knock out several of my crew so didn’t they actually listen to the siren’s song and jump overboard.” Cugas explained as he lit a lantern. “And in the meantime you’re fucking her?! What the fuck?!” Cugas demanded.  

“Hey, the cuff came off and she asked me to.” Brock answered, a love drunk haze oh his face as his tattoos started to come alive and pulse again and Cugas could see he was starting to get hard again. 

“Yesterday she was ready to set you on fire and today she’s fucking you, what the hell happened between those two points, girls just don’t flip that big of a switch that quick.” Cugas argued disbelievingly. 

“Well she met her grandma and met her oceanic family and missed me and had a dream I was in danger and came back.” Brock answered. 

“So because she had a bad dream- she came back and forgave you for enslaving her for two weeks and promptly emptied your balls?” Cugas repeated. 

“Ew, not like that.” Brock frowned in disgust even though, yes, that was an accurate description of the events. 

“Bro, you know I love you like a brother and I have your back, but there is a really, really big piece of the puzzle that’s missing and you’re too love drunk to notice.” Cugas argued. 

“Look the shackle is off! That’s proof enough!” Brock argued. 

“Well then it’s faulty and broken.” Cugas argued. 

“No it’s not!” Brock argued. 

“Did she say it? Did she actually say the words ‘I love you’?” Cugas asked. 

“Yes!” Brock insisted. 

“Did she say it first or did you say it to her and she replied with that?” Cugas asked. “And was your dick in her when she said it? Was she close to orgasm or just had an orgasm? Because you know as well as I do that afterglow makes you say shit you don’t really mean, or better yet, was the shackle on her when she said it?” Cugas pointed out.  

“She said it, I believe her, that’s all there is to it!” Brock argued. 

“Brock! Bro! Actually think with the brain that’s in your head and not with this.” Cugas said as he slapped at Brock’s hard on as Brock quickly backed up so that he wouldn’t connect with it. 

“Bro, something is wrong. I am telling you I feel it in my soul. Something is majorly off and this isn’t adding up! I think she made friends down there and they’re out to do whatever it takes to keep her, she told me to keep you safe which means she knows you’re in danger and is protecting you because even though that tether isn’t physically on her- it’s still active.” 

“If that’s the case- she still can’t lie then, so she was telling the truth when she said she loved me.” Brock insisted as Cugas growled in frustration. 

“Fine, then believe her, but watch her, let her prove she loves with acts other than sex.” Cugas insisted before he poked his head out of the door and called a crew member to watch Brock so Cugas could go up on deck and see you with his own eyes as he saw you hovering over the surface of the water towards the middle of the eye where the winds and waves were the most calm since there was a current that all the boats stayed in just inside the eye that was traveling with the current of air above it so that meant that one side of the boat had rain and winds while the other had sunshine but a constant breeze in the direction of the hurricane, the water under where you were hovering however was boiling with merpeople as you talked with them before he saw heavenly moura and angels alike flying down from the cyclone and grab you up and fly up into the eye storm and talk to you themselves for a bit as they completely surrounded you before he heard something on the other side of the ship before he turned to see a huge hand come up from the water before it started to reach for him which made him scream which got your attention before you lit up like you were pure fire as you flew across the eye to get to the hand. 

“Shit! Grandma no!” You screamed as you dove and collided with the hand, pushing it back the other way until it fell back into the water,  leaving a trail of fire in your wake as the hand closed around you before the actual angels dove down into the water before they were swarmed by selkies, merfolk and sirens as Cugas just watched helplessly from the side of his ship, not knowing where to look because obviously it was all out war down there. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck!” He cursed as he got a harpoon and got one of the rowboats ready as he called for his crew to come and help lower him down. 

“Captain, you can’t!” They argued. 

“Do not disobey my order! Lower me down you can have a mutiny while I’m off the ship!” Cugas roared before they followed his order and lowered him down. 

Meanwhile you had flown out to sea, hoping to lure everyone away from the ship, trying to greet them happily as they all clamored for your attention, asking you why you had left. 

“I was worried about my friends.” You managed to answer them as they all reached for you but before you could touch any of them, royal heavenly moura and angels came down to you. 

“Benyana!” They called making you turn your head up before your angel reflex kicked in again as you felt yourself float up to them as they swarmed you too and flew up with you. 

“Yes?” You answered. 

“Oh your mother will be most pleased, we must get you home! Your mother came and pleaded to the heavenly moura king to help look for you and you actually came to us! This is the best sign! You’re unharmed, but tethered still.” A young angel said as he came and reached out before an invisible tether glowed around you, it was wrapped and tied around your neck and your body as it suddenly halted you from going any further up into the sky which you were grateful for. 

“Wait! Before you take it off, tell me exactly what it is.” You pleaded before the angels inspected it as the heavenly moura inspected your wings, happy to see such a glorious and perfectly symetrical pair you had- gorgeous blue and green shimmering to your feathers showing off your siren heritage as other feathers were shimmering diamond and gold and platinum while all the feathers had opalescent and pearlescent quality to them. I sign of greatness indeed and you were quite gorgeous. Your aesthetic was greater than even their own, and they were royal, supposed to be the most magnificent in the heavens as the young princes grinned at each other, happy that they hadn’t been pressured into marrying anyone yet because that you were obviously a bride worth waiting for, much less fighting for. 

“It’s a “truth, love and protection in all things” tether. It keeps you from being dishonest but it’s very weak, here, let us take it off.” They said before the angels pulled at it and it came off and all at once you felt as free as a bird and not tethered anymore and you expected to feel all those affections for Brock reverse but they didn’t. They remained which made you realize that your feelings for him were genuine and wholly your own. “Can I have that back, just in case, it might come in handy later.” You requested before they gave it back to you, now that it was off it was simply a length of silver rope.  

“Come, you need to have your angelic ability awakened.” The young angel said before he hugged and kissed you and in that kiss you felt more power than you had ever felt in your life come alive and start to pulse through your veins as your body grew bright as your muscle tone and fantastic body condition came back and a strength you had never felt before flooded your body, you felt you had the power to start flying in the opposite direction of the hurricane and it would stop and swirl in the new direction to follow you. That and Mr. Angel was particularly handsome and a really good kisser and it stole your breath away and made you feel lighter than air. 

“What did you do?” You asked as he pulled away, his own eyes hazed with love drunkenness now. 

“Well first, I’m Suriel, your grandfather Ramiel is my mentor, he told me to keep a close eye on you as he flew your mother home.” He answered. 

“My mother came to the hurricane to ask for the heavenly moura’s help in finding me?” You asked. 

“Yes, she was here not even a day ago. My name is Prince Cordene, my father is Crown Prince Delmal who is taking the throne this summer. When the festival ends tomorrow, I will lead the charge of fifty legions to escort you home.” He explained as he took your hand and pulled you away from Suriel to have you to himself before he kissed your hand and looked at you like you were the greatest treasure he had ever laid eyes on. 

“And I am also leading a hundred legions of angels to lead you home as well.” Suriel answered as he pulled you back to him as Cordene frowned, not wanting to be outdone. 

“Awesome.” You smiled happily before you heard Cugas’ scream. 

“Shit! Grandma no!” You screamed as you immediately left the angels and heavenly moura and came to Cugas’ rescue as you flew as fast as you could, your new angel heritage helping immensely, leaving fire in your wake as you flew into her palm and pushed her hand back and then her hand closed around you and pulled you to the ocean as you changed into a siren the moment you touched the ocean, the change being effortless and not hurting at all. 

“Grandma! What were you doing! You nearly hurt Cugas! Cugas is a friend, not food! Brock is in the center of the ship and guarded. And no you can’t crush the ship to get at him.” You insisted before you heard the merfolk start to battle the angels that started to dive down after you as you swam to investigate.

“Stop it!” You screamed, your voice enhanced by your siren form and your angelic heritage as the sound made everyone stop and cover their ears as the scream then traveled and broke all the windows on the ships as even the crew on the ships had to cover their ears and those at the bottom of the cyclone faultered. 

“Stop fighting! You’re fighting each other for no reason!” You argued as you swam over to them and broke them up before Prince Oriles came to investigate, trident in hand as he stopped and stared at you in awe, you were now by far the most magnificent goddess divine he had ever seen before he noticed the scene. 

“Enough.” He said as with a wave of his trident the angels were one side and the merpeople were on the other with you in the middle as he swam around you to get a better look at you. 

“I’m Crown Prince Oriles, what seems to be the trouble?” He asked you. 

“I was just about to ask that. Seriously? What in the world is going on?” You asked them. 

“One at a time.” Prince Oriles said before Suriel came forward. 

“This is Princess Benyana Auksa, she is the granddaughter of King Tehnore of the heavenly moura realm, but she is also the granddaughter of Supreme Chancellor Ramiel serving King Madan in the Crystal Realm in the crystal heavens, she is a daughter of Suchi, a mixed moura colony, two weeks ago a clan of orcs, ruled by a moura orc led an attack against Suchi, she led the counterstrike, she turned the tide of the attack and gained victory but in the commotion, she was captured and then enslaved by the moura orc who led the charge and he tethered her to himself using an enchanted silver anklet and an invisible curse which she is now in the possession of.” He explained as you pulled it out of a little purse as you presented it to him. 

“Detestable.” Prince Oriles scrunched up his face in disgust as everyone else nodded in agreement as you felt they all collectively looked at the ship and you could sense they were calculating how to wreck it. 

“Ok, that moura orc has no idea he’s part moura, someone in Suchi stole his moura cloak when he was an infant and has repeated that heinous crime with all of his siblings and even his mother and her sister and all of her children. Without those cloaks they are powerless, they don’t have any of the gifts moura’s do and restoring to them their birthright and give them justice is now my priority, my own two week enslavement is nothing compared to the 34 years they’ve had to endure without their birthright. It is my responsibility as a daughter to Suchi to clear it of this dishonor and exposing the real wrong do-er in all of this.” You insisted. 

“Even if that culprit is as close as a family member?” Suriel asked. 

“You say that as if you know exactly who it is?” You challenged before you swam up to him. 

“Is the culprit either my father or any of my brothers?” You asked as he grimaced. 

“Worse.” Suriel gulped. 

“How much worse? My mother or any of my sisters?” You demanded as all he did was swallow as his eyes got wide. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who is it?!” You demanded, the water around you starting to boil. 

“TriKeng is Rhoslan and her sister Kalnu’s father, it was he that took their cloaks and took all of their children’s cloaks to bury the fact that the only thing his seed will sprout in is an orc womb.” He answered. 

“And where are the cloaks?” You smirked, your hunch was right. 

“Buried deep under the ancient tree, impossible to dig up because the three has been growing around them for so long. He has used fae magic to imbed them in the tree.” Suriel answered. 

“And that tree is ancient and blessed and the whole colony would be against me destroying it to retrieve them.” You realized. TriKeng had wisdom and age on his side and many things working in his favor. But you were undeterred. 

“But back to you dearest.” Your grandmother interjected. “Your majesty, she’s also the daughter of my son Rhen, who is a siren halfing I bore when I lived on land about 50 years ago. She has also obviously inherited the siren heritage as well, and only last night she finally got to meet her oceanic family but was pulled away because of that damn tether. Which when her father Rhen came looking for her in the oceans only yesterday, that tether nearly strangled her and choked her when he got too close, what kind of monster puts such a thing on another creature? Especially one as precious, magnificent and treasured as she is?” She demanded trying to focus the blame back on Brock. 

“True.” Prince Oriles conceded. 

“So. Where is her captor?” He asked. 

“On that boat.” She pointed to the ship before you put the tether away before he lifted his trident to destroy it. 

“Wait, don’t do destroy the ship!” You requested as you reached out and pulled the trident back as he looked at you strangely as he noticed the trident obeyed you. The trident was only handable by royalty and this was proof you were of royal blood and therefore more than worthy to be his queen and his trident took to you well. 

“The ship’s captain is a good friend of mine, he’s been fighting for my freedom since he laid eyes on me and his crew is good, the whole fleet is great and are just innocent fishers in all this. Please don’t destroy all of them just to destroy one man.” You pleaded. 

“So mild and kind despite the abuse you suffered.” He cooed as he reached up and held your face in his hand, marveling at the softness of it. Softer than seasilk itself as your whole body just glowed with untapped power and potential. 

“I am the one wronged, therefore let the vengeance be mine and mine alone to get. Besides, I’m a much bigger fan of making love instead of war.” You countered, knowing that was the best way to wrap him around your finger as he was hooked like any good fish on the line. 

“Besides, right now, I feel my home is in Suchi unless a greater one can be offered to me. For now, bless all who wish to- to follow me home, and if my angelic and heavenly moura brethren will help me, let Suchi be the host of this year’s summer solstice festival.” You offered which appeased everyone before you broke the surface to tell the heavenly moura who were hovering over the surface of the water which they eagerly took before they kissed you excitedly and then left to rejoin the others in the cyclone before two doors opened up underwater to reveal an elven prince and a fae prince. 

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ You thought to yourself before you swam up to them. 

“Hello,” you greeted as both of them looked at you in awe. 

“Are you here to take me home?” You asked as they both nodded dumbly, unable to really speak because you were that bewitching as you swam even closer to them so that you could see both of them out of their portal doorways at the same time. 

“Well there’s no need, I already made a deal with the Hurricane Breaker Clan, when this fleet sails back to their harbor, they’ll escort her home.” Your grandmother revealed as a chill traveled down your spine. Fuck. The enemy of my enemy is my friend- well played grandma. 

“Yes, but when I do get home, I just asked the heavenly moura and the angels here if they would convince the elders of Suchi to hold the summer solstice there, it’s a moura coming of age festival and it will be mine this summer. If you wish for a chance to court me, court me as a moura first then as you wish to second, I swear I’ll give you an equal footing with everyone else.” You promised as both of them nodded dumbly. 

“Now, go and make ready for my arrival.” You urged them before you blew a kiss at them and that was more than enough for them both to close the doors and retreat out of there along with the angels before you addressed the merfolk that had remained. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a captain to reassure that he and his fleet aren’t in danger, and it would mean a lot to me if you didn’t try to harm them or the ship or the fleet, actually, you know what? Grandma, if you could go to Pantaou and Yingshen, and request that when the hurricane dies down, I’ll have the fleet drop the nets, if all of you would be oh so kind as to steer the various schools of fish into the nets and if you could get all the best crabs into the crab pods and stuff them full and make sure they don’t disturb the water dragon nest, and grandma if you could ask the dragons to just ice the holds for the fish. I want them to stay frozen long enough that we can go straight up the river to the foot of the mountain and have someone bring a crane and we can pull the blocks of iced fish right out of the boats and load them onto carts and I want the river deep and wide enough that the boats can sail right up the river with ease, Suchi has never had good seafood and they’ll need it for the festival especially. I want the Stormbreaker Clan to have all the proceeds from the sales of the fish. But if Hurricane Breaker clan will ensure their safe arrival and that no one from Stormbreaker will be harmed at all. Since Stormbreaker itself was led by someone who was simply misguided. A mistake that shouldn’t cost them everything, especially their lives, the sins of one shouldn’t endanger everyone else.” You insisted. 

“Consider it done.” Prince Oriles agreed. 

“Thank you so much.” You cooed to everyone as you swam around them, kissing all of them sweetly, grinning when they seemed to fall under a spell you weren’t knowingly casting but in this moment, you were going to use everything at your disposal to protect Brock and his family and clan.  

“Now, go get ready for the party of your lives in just a couple of short months.” You cooed before they all all swam away except for Prince Oriles and your grandma. 

“Grandma, was one of your terms to Hurricane Breaker Clan that they would feed you Brock?” You questioned. 

“You’re very astute.” She praised. “Well, you must fill your hunger differently, because Brock is mine and I will exact my vengeance how I see fit, I’m certainly powerful enough to exact it myself. Trust me to do this at least for myself.” You pleaded. 

“Oh come on,” she complained before you got infront of her face. 

“Grandma, swear to me you won’t harm him, or anyone else from Stormbreaker. Please.” You pleaded. 

“Fine, I swear.” She swore. 

“Thank you.” You thanked her before she swam down to meet with the dragons. 

“Till we meet again Prince Oriles.” You dismissed him but he didn’t take the hint, he just reached out and wrapped an arm around you and kissed you deeply as you kissed him back, hoping that would be enough to get rid of him. And while he tasted really good, it still just wasn’t quite right either. 

“Ok, enough, enough, I need to get back to keep my hosts from worrying too much about me, but I look forward to seeing you again soon.” You cooed before you gave him another parting kiss and made sure he was gone and out of sight before you swam over to Cugas’ little row boat and he nearly shot you with the harpoon before you put your hands up in surrender. 

“Woah, don’t shoot, it’s just me,” you offered before you climbed into the boat and changed back into yourself, spitting all the water that had been in your lungs over the side of the boat before you changed back. 

“Are you ok?” He asked worriedly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just stopped a world war.” You answered as you wrung out your hair. 

“Is that what that was?” He asked as he started to row back to the ship. 

“Yeah, so, uh, we’re both blessed and fucked.” You leveled at him. 

“Yeah, I figured. Brethren?” He mused. 

“Ha! Oh yeah, almost all of them in fact, so come to find out, my mother somehow has two fathers and a third adopted one, one is a very high ranking angel in the crystal heavens that encircle the planet, her other father is King Tehnore of heavenly moura who they both have finally, after 45 years of her life have finally come forward to claim her however Elder TriKeng has been my adopted grandfather ever since we moved to Suchi. So now once this festival hurricane dies tomorrow, fifty legions of heavenly moura and a hundred legions of angels are going to escourt this fleet all the way back to the harbor and then back to Suchi.” You informed him. 

“Fuck.” Cugas gawfed. 

“Oh but that’s not all, Suchi is going to host this summer solstice. And not just all the mountain moura will be in attendance, all the angels, heavenly moura, elves, fae and merfolk are coming because now Prince Oriles down there is going to gift every merperson the ability to come out of the water and be on dry land for as long as they want to to also attend the solstice in Suchi.” You revealed. 

“Holy shit.” Cugas blinked in surprise. 

“Yep, and now because I’m now the claimed granddaughter of a king of heavenly moura that makes me a princess and because I’m also part angel and part siren, I’m now apparently the most wanted bride everyone has ever seen in their lives and no man, well other than you- can look at me without practically falling in heads over heels for me and all of them want Brock dead because he’s the only thing between them and me. Do you have any idea what I had to do to keep him alive?!” You complained which made Cugas grin as he rowed. 

“I can’t even imagine.” Cugas answered. 

“Brock isn’t gonna like this but it’s the only way to keep him alive, much less your clan alive, one heavenly moura could burn the clan to the dirt, fifty thousand of them...much less a hundred thousand angels they could scorch the continent a million times over, there’s no way Stormbreaker would survive.” You fretted as you just sat there and held your head in your hands as he rowed the boat back to the ship. 

“So you said something about blessed or was that the blessed part?” He asked. 

“No, that was the fucked part. The blessed part is once the hurricane dies- drop the nets and the sirens will herd all the fish you can candle into the nets and drop the pods and they’ll place them around the dragon nest and personally herd all the lobsters and crab into them. And then once everything is on board, the dragons will ice the holds because I know for certain that Suchi and the other mountain colonies would give you all the gold you can stand for that fish, all we need is a way to pick the iced blocks out of the ship and put them on carts and by the time the carts make it up the pass, the ice should melt enough that the fish will be easy to get and easy to sell and no one will get sick eating spoiled seafood.” You explained. 

“Oh that’s a genius move!” He praised. 

“Thank you.” You smiled. 

“Wait, that was your idea?” He asked. 

“Yeah, while they’re so eager to please me for some unknown reason- might as well maneuver things to the best possible advantage. Besides, I have someone in Suchi I want you to meet.” You grinned mischievously. 

“Oh yeah? Who?” He asked curiously. 

“My brother Adris.” You grinned. 

“How much is he like you?” He asked a goofy grin started to spread on his face. 

“More than he likes to admit, but you offer him my room on your ship and offer to take him to the sea to meet his oceanic family while you fish again or better yet, once we’re in Suchi, you feed him seafood like you fed me seafood and he’ll be trying to choke on your cock for dessert.” You revealed. 

“Is he as pretty as you?” Cugas asked eagerly. 

“Oh, much prettier. And you are so his type. Huge powerful muscles, captain of your fleet and a heart of gold and the fact that you’ve been fighting for my freedom since day one is going to go a very long way and your sympathy and empathy and easy going nature when you’re off the ships and in private are going to be huge draws for him. Like he’ll teach you all the dances for the solstice and I’m pretty sure he’d like to stake a claim before the solstice even starts so you can’t be stolen away by a prettier face with finer dance moves. By the way are you a bottom or a top? Because he’s a bottom.” You revealed. 

“Top.” Cugas couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yes,” you cheered, having wanted to play matchmaker with Cugas since you met him as he managed to row the boat back to the ship and the crew was able to bring the boat back up to the deck and once you got on the deck you went back to your room where you laid out the rope and the chain, just looking at them though made your anger rage before you went to Brock’s room to get your blanket back, grateful he wasn’t in there and cleaned up the rest of your room, hanging up the wet clothing and towels so they would dry out as your side of the ship was facing the storm before Brock slipped into the room. 

“Oh good, you’re safe,” Brock blew out a breath of relief before he hugged you from behind and while you wanted to enjoy it, your anger started to boil before you pushed him off of you.

“Get off!” You grunted as you pushed him away, a feat made much easier with your returned strength and new abilities before you got his wet clothes off the line and pushed them into his chest. 

“What, I don’t, I don’t understand…” He answered as he looked at you in confusion. 

“I am so angry at you right now and I need time and space to think ok?!” You snapped at him as you started to aggressively clean your room, a trait you learned from your mother. 

“Well, let’s talk it out. We can figure this out.” He insisted as he got a chair and sat down and you wanted to rip his head off of his body but instead you grabbed the silver rope and the silver belt and lead and threw them at him. 

“Tell me exactly what those fucking things are!” You roared but he caught them before they could collide with his face. 

“It doesn’t ma- ah!” He flinched as he dropped them because they burned him. 

“Oh, this works.” You grinned before you took the chain and wrapped it around his wrist before it tied itself snugly. 

“For once, don’t lie to me, tell me the truth and the whole truth, what are these things?” You demanded as the chain got long enough that you could walk across the room to get a chair before you sat down far enough away that he was out of reach. 

“They’re…” He began as he tried to take it off but it just tied itself around him like a snake and you just shook your head. 

“Wow, you don’t really love me do you? Because if you really did, you’d be honest with me without me having use magical means.” You spat as he just looked wounded that you would say such a thing. 

“I do love you!” He insisted. 

“Then why did you enslave me?!” You demanded. 

“Because there was no other way to keep you!” He finally confessed.  

“Look, I was... am…, fuck, still very desperate ok? You’re a moura, the most angelic being to walk the face of the earth and I know I don’t deserve you in my life and the world thinks that orcs are barbaric stupid meatheads who only know war and fighting and that’s not true! My clan is young and small and we’re trying to abandon the old ways so that we can embrace a new way of living that doesn’t involve us risking our lives for things like food or clothing.” He explained. 

“So how does enslaving me help with any of that?” You asked. 

“Because you’re my mate! Mates are supposed to walk with you through life and you’re supposed to help and support each other and all anyone ever sees when they look at me is either someone to fear or someone to manipulate. All the women in my clan all want me just so that they can be warchieftess, everyone outside of my clan wants nothing to do with me because I’m an orc and my people have been the enemy of everyone for all of history and I can’t be Warchief without a warcheiftess or even a warlord by my side and my dad is getting old and I’m running out of time and our enemies are growing stronger but we’re growing weaker and I need you to help me and I know I fucked up. I know I did, and I will always regret the way I did things with you until the day I die. But this was the only way I knew how to even get to you because you’re special! You’re supposed to be different from everyone else! You have magic and abilities and power that I can only dream of and ever since the Shaman showed me a vision of you I haven’t been able to hardly eat or sleep or anything until you could be a part of my life and it was like I was possessed and I knew if I didn’t get to you sooner than later, before the summer solstice that you were going to choose someone else and I’d be lost and my clan would implode or dissolve and our territory would be lost and we would all just end up being slaves to others and I can’t let that happen, my family has worked too hard their whole lives just for everything to be lost because Suchi wouldn’t even open it’s gates to us. Every successful kingdom has a moura ruling by their side and they’re all just...so happy and their kingdoms thrive and peace envelops them and they have no problems and all they know is ease and success.” He explained, oh if only he knew the treachery within the royal moura households. 

“I went to the Shaman who told me all about the moura to begin with and he told me that my soulmate was a woman by the name of Benyana who was more beautiful than the moon and the stars in the heavens or the sunrise and sunset and he gave me a vision of you and of us and how happy we would all be and a vision of what our clan would become with you as warchieftess and how we would handle each problem together and find solutions and that you were a daughter of Suchi, a moura who would unlock all those secrets and gifts and would bless the clan and we would be the first of the orcs to lead a new way of life and that the clan would reap from Suchi. All I had to do was go to the gates and that you would come to me and all I would have to do is reach out and touch you and you would be mine.” He explained. 

“So I went and I was stopped at the base of the mountain and the merchants stopped me from even climbing the trail and the other orc clans thought I was a scout for an army and nearly killed me before I had to flee for my life and so I came back home and regrouped and went back five times, each time, the merchants would send word to Suchi and the gate would be closed by the time we got up there and then we met with the elders who cursed us before they would even hear us out. And I just had had enough, so we surrounded the city at the base of the mountain so they couldn’t warn Suchi of our arrival and the shaman gave us all magic spells in glass jars, all we had to do was break the jars when we were at the gate and weapons big enough and strong enough to break the walls would come out and when we broke the jars, trebuchets came spilling out and piles of meteorite balls and so we attacked.” He revealed. 

“And I knew it would take longer for you to like me, let alone love me but it was the only way I knew how to get to you and when I heard your voice giving orders, I froze and I nearly died but I knew your voice like my own and when you came out of the flames at me I knew that that was my chance so I called to you and you just hovered there as a bird so I figured you were just a shapeshifting moura and once I had you, I ordered the retreat and when I got back I went to the Shaman again and he tied the silver tether around the silver cuff and chain and it disappeared and told me to put this on you and that it would keep you with me and it protect both of us and would come off when you loved me and when it came off, you wouldn’t fly away, you would stay with me because you wanted to.” He revealed and your heart broke. 

“Do you have any idea what the ramifications of taking me will be?” You questioned your sternness softened considerably.  

“Well I figured you’re gonna be resentful for a while.” He admitted. 

“Yes, that’s true, but this is now so much bigger than just you and me Brock. Look. I’m not just a normal run of the mill moura, since I left, my mother went back to the heavens where she proved out to be the king’s daughter. Which makes her a princess and makes me a princess and therefore- worth something to them, to all of them, apparently. Tomorrow, when the hurricane festival ends- fifty thousand heavenly moura will surround this ship and escort me home. If that wasn’t all, my mother has two fathers- don’t ask me how, I don’t know, but my mother’s second father is somehow an angel, who is a grand chancellor of the crystal heavens, who is sending a hundred thousand angels to also escort me home. One heavenly moura could burn the clan to ashes. One crystal angel can destroy the continent, they are sending enough fire power to destroy the planet thousands, if not millions of times over. And if that wasn’t all, my grandmother, my father’s mother, the giant siren three times as big as the ship? She made a deal behind my back with Hurricane Breaker Clan who will be at the docks waiting for us, who will also be tasked with escorting me home and then she demanded that once I’m home, they escort you back to her by whatever means necessary where she gets to eat you and I can tell you now there isn’t a place you go and run away from or sail away to that you won’t be found. And if that wasn’t enough, someone- if I had to guess, Elder TriKeng, my adopted grandfather- has also tasked a Fae Prince and an Elven Prince to come to my rescue too and they’ve been searching all the realms and found me in the oceans just now, each of them has an army a hundred times bigger than Hurricane Breaker. And if that wasn’t enough, I now have a merman prince who controls the literal oceans trying to court me too. You may have captured me but there is no way you get to keep me and live.” You implored as you scooted closer to him to grasp his hands. “Do you know what I had to do to just get everyone to agree to not kill you immediately? I had to agree to give everyone a shot at courting me, and I literally had to pull my grandma’s hand back from crushing this ship and drowning the crew just to kill you and I had to pull back Prince Oriles’ trident back from destroying the ship to kill you too. I may be strong and powerful but even I can’t fight all of them off. I’m sorry. It’s literally you against the rest of the world for me at this point. And I know for certain that one wrong move on my part- everything turns to shit and everyone dies. Fae’s don’t take rejection well like they would murder everyone in my family, in Suchi and in your clan if they find anything offensive because Fae have thier own set of rules and they are harsh and deadly. I had to agree to at least court all of them just so they didn’t kill you or at the very least the rest of your clan.” You revealed as Brock just stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face before he turned and thought for a moment. 

“Is there any way you can get- in writing, the rules and steps associated with each way each of them courts? Is there any way you can set out the definitions and parameters to be courted? Like no matter the outcome- none of the competitors can harm either you or your family or your colony or the other competitors, make it as fair of a game as possible? But one that I can play and hopefully win?” He proposed as you blinked in surprise at him before you promptly launched yourself into his arms and kissed him all over which made him laugh as he held you, the chain easily falling from him as he held you and kissed you back and hugged you tight. Still, just so happy you came back to him. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok with that and keep your cool? Because I’m pretty sure part of every courting ritual is a coupling session.” You winced. 

“It’s your body to do with as you please, as long as your heart stays mine, I don’t care.” Brock insisted. 

“Well now my body is mine.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, I know, I made a huge mistake and I should have found another way to go about it and I will be forever sorry about it and maybe one day I’ll be able to make it up to you.” He apologized which made you smile before you ground down on his hardening member starting to poke at your center before you realized- sex with him should be the benchmark moving forward. 

“It’s going to be ok, we’ll get through this together ok?” He proposed as he broke for air. 

“Sex then paperwork?” You proposed. 

“Deal.” He laughed as he picked you up and carried you to bed and pulled off the covers as your moura cloak became a full body tattoo once again before he rolled you over to fuck you in the doggy styel position as you made sure your neck craned up so that your skin would cover over your own moura mark at the base of your head but a good back scratch had you curving your spine the other way so he would scratch all of it, which of course, had your hair falling forward and just as he entered, he froze. 

"What the fuck…" He breathed before his finger reached out and touched your gold moura mark with a ghost like softness. 

Fuck. He found your mark. 

"OK I can explain…" You began.

[phobiadeficient]

what if, Sniper is a little on the bottom spectrum and at first he has a hard time knowing what to do to Scout. He's just overwhelmed with feelies which ends up in Scout kinda taking a lead most of the time. Scout gets a bit frustrated bc he thinks Sniper doesnt really enjoy what theyre doing, so Scout puts Snipes on the spot and asks him clearly what's bothering him. Snipes ends up telling him the things he'd fantasized about doing but has held back. Then they both get super confident :>

dude you can’t just roll in here with these galaxy brain takes, the world aint prepared for them yet!! like damn go off

-

Scout pulled away from his lips with a wet smack, and when he spoke, his voice was suddenly very much not suited to the mood in the room, tone bright and focused rather than quiet and playful. “Okay, so here’s the thing.”

Sniper frowned at it, prickling immediately. It felt like a dynamic had shifted all at once. And with him lying there with his hands tied to the headboard, bare down to his waist and pinned under Scout’s weight on his thighs, he wasn’t sure he wanted too significant a dynamic shift. “Yeah?” he asked slowly, trying to get a read on Scout.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Scout assured quickly, hands lying on his chest, applying a light and admittedly soothing pressure. “I just wanted to, uh, talk about somethin’ real quick. And you kinda have this thing of tryin’ to avoid conversations like this because it makes you all nervous and stuff and I just sorta figured it would be a lot easier to talk to you when I kinda had you, uh…”

A pause.

“Okay, so the only word I can think of right now is captive but that’s not the right word for it,” Scout said quickly. “Like, what’s the word for when you’ve got someone’s full and total attention? Like they’re totally just listening?”

“Focused?” Sniper tried.

“I guess? More like, uh… centered, maybe. I dunno. But you get what I mean, right?”

Sniper nodded hesitantly.

“Anyways. Uh. What was I sayin’, uh, focused… a conversation, right, okay. So here’s the thing,” Scout started in, shifting a little. “So for the past like, two month, basically since we kinda took the leap, y’know? Into, uh, more than just making out and whatever?”

Sniper nodded again.

“Well, that first time we just kinda jerked each other off since we were here in my place and I didn’t have any stuff to do anything else, then the time after that I had lube and so I rode you. And then I did that again the time after that, and the time after that. And I asked if you wanted to spice things up a little, and then I tied you down like this, and that was great, and then I rode you again. And, I dunno, it’s just…”

“…You’re getting bored?” Sniper tried, carefully.

“No, I’m not bored, I’m just…” An exhale. “I just kinda feel a little bit like you’re… I dunno. I’m worried you’re bored. Or, not bored, more like… not into it. It feels kinda like you’re just goin’ along with what I wanna do, just going through the motions sorta.”

Sniper felt a pang of guilt.

“Like, when we were sitting around and hanging out all the time, I could tell you were into it. When we were making out between matches and whatever, I could tell you were into it. And now we’ve tried doing this, and it feels like you just… not that you don’t like it, more that you don’t… I dunno. It feels like you’re just kinda along for the ride.”

“Not enthusiastic?” Sniper tried.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Scout was playing with his chest hair idly. “I just… is there somethin’ you want me to do that I’m not doin’? It’s… it’s okay if you aren’t… into this. I just want you to tell me, and… to talk to me. What’s up? What’s making you act all weird?”

Sniper considered the question. “I do like you,” he started out with, and that took away some of the storm clouds brewing behind Scout’s eyes. “I do. And I do… want you. I suppose I’m just…” He turned his words over a few times. “I’m not used to this sort of relationship. And I know some of the things I used to put up with, before this one, weren’t all that good for me, and I’m still… sorting out what I liked and what I made myself try and like. And… well, sex was always a centerpoint of those relationships. So I’m figuring out that I’m not as rock-solid as I thought, and I’m not sure how to ask for things that I do want.”

“So… what, should I ask you more? What you want?”

Sniper shrugged what amount he could.

“Well what do you want then?” Scout asked, chuckling, lightly dragging fingernails against Sniper’s sternum, a surprisingly pleasant sensation.

Sniper swallowed hard. He kind of wished he could look away inconspicuously, but Scout took up pretty much his whole field of view. He blinked once or twice instead. “Er,” he tried, hesitated. Sighed a little at himself. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Yeah,” Scout agreed without having to think about it too hard.

An inhale, an exhale. “Could you get down here at least?” he asked, and Scout smiled, leaning in and setting to work kissing over the expanse of Sniper’s neck, made easier when Sniper tilted his head obligingly.

“What’s up?” Scout asked, mouth free for only a moment before he was right back to work.

Sniper swallowed again. Steadied himself. “Want you to fuck me,” he admitted. “Hard.”

A moment of stillness was all the surprise Scout allowed himself to show. “What else?” he asked, voice teasing.

A breath. “I want you to stuff me full of a toy and fuck my mouth,” he admitted.

“What else?” Scout asked, and there was heat in his voice, in the way he carded fingers through Sniper’s hair and tugged. It made Sniper’s pulse thump.

“I want you to flip me over and eat me out and make me beg,” Sniper managed, voice tight with the combination of thrill and arousal.

A shaky breath from Scout, whose enthusiasm had only jumped with every phrase and who finally pulled back enough to kiss him hard on the mouth. “So the gist of it is that you wanna get fucked more?” he asked, a little out of breath as he pulled back again. Sniper nodded. “Hell yes.”

In the span of a moment, Scout had parted Sniper’s thighs and moved to sit between them, shucking him of his boxers with efficiency and only fumbling a little bit when he reached to grab the lube from where he’d put it a bit earlier.

“You wanna stay tied up for this?” Scout asked, eyeing the binding, and Sniper considered it for a moment before he nodded. “Okay. I’ll take it slow and all, we’ve got all night and I kinda—“

“You,” Sniper cut in, face flushing, and Scout stopped talking, looking back up at him from where he was warming the lube on his fingers. “You, er, won’t need to go terribly slow.”

Scout frowned. “What?”

“I…” He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “Only been a few days is all. Tend to… when I’m sort of, er… taking care of things on my own, it’s… I’m not far out of practice, is what I mean.”

“Hot,” Scout quipped, and Sniper rolled his eyes, fighting down a grin. “Yeah, alright.”

While Sniper was still staring up at the ceiling, the first finger circled, pressed, and finally pushed, and he released a breath somewhere between surprise and relief.

Scout moved slowly at first, but soon enough started working him open with speed and confidence earned through experience. And once he was probably opened up enough to start in, he didn’t let up, instead moving to prod at Sniper’s prostate, pressing and rubbing in almost punishing movements, and all too soon Sniper was gasping, arching, unraveling enough to start making noises, cries of pleasure as the pressure didn’t let up. He bucked his hips almost desperately, and wailed outright when Scout promptly moved to pin one of his thighs beneath his knee, his free hand pushing the other into place there at the edge of his flexibility until he felt pinned open like a butterfly under glass. His thrashing and wriggling was then reserved for his waist up, eyes falling closed under the assault of pleasure on his senses, his dick woefully under-stimulated even as pleasure coursed through him strongly enough to make him lose track of words, of volume, of everything. His fists clenched up above his head, his eyes clenched shut, his toes curled, his breath caught.

A kiss just above his navel grounded him again, and he managed to blink his eyes open, looking down. Scout was smirking up at him, extremely self-satisfied as he allowed a brief reprieve in the assault on Sniper’s senses just to take in how wrecked Sniper already was. “God. If you weren’t beggin’ me to fuck you a little bit ago, I’d kinda be tempted to just get you off like this. You look real good, like nothin’ I’ve ever seen, even in those magazines.”

“I wasn’t begging,” Sniper protested, belated and weak.

“Heh.” Scout’s grin was sharp and sent a thrill through him, a quiver through his thighs and a spin through his head. “You will.”

“Like you won’t snap first,” Sniper managed, trying to work up his own courage, the task made easier by the way Scout was eyeing him, clearly extremely pleased with what all he saw, a vague kind of wonder. “Like you’re not desperate too. Bugger off with the superiority, mate, you know as well as I do that you want me.”

“Damn fucking right I want you, have you seen you?” Scout scoffed, and flickered his fingers, and Sniper’s head rolled back, a moan rising clear from his throat. “Fuckin’ look at you. Christ, I’d keep you like this all night if you’d let me. And if my dick didn’t just straight up pop first.”

“Don’t make me beg, Scout,” Sniper finally warned.

“Fine,” Scout laughed, and pressed hard one more time before he slid his fingers free, wiping them off on Sniper’s boxers and freeing himself from his own clothing. He then promptly grabbed Sniper by the calf and tossed his leg up over his shoulder, turning him nearly sideways. A moment of fumbling, and then the first push, and a firmer one when that didn’t get him much of anywhere.

Sniper managed to hold back the majority of his noises while Scout waited for him to adjust, shifting his arms in his bonds just slightly. And Scout was sweet enough to wait until he was well past ready, until he was earnestly rolling his hips and trying to get that sweet friction.

Scout stroked a hand over his thigh soothingly, moving in short, firm strokes as he tried to find the right angle. Long moments, long attempts, and then he seemed to realize he needed to shift them, moving to pull Sniper’s other leg up as well, pinning it back and making his lower half jerk off the bed as finally he shifted and rolled his hips just right.

“Buggering—“ Sniper started to swear, and then Scout did it again, and his voice jumped up an octave. “Oh, oh Christ, ffff—fuck me, Scout,” he practically pleaded, head rolling back listlessly.

A breath from Scout, and then he did, starting into a rhythm, steady and easy for Sniper to cope with, but at the same time, not nearly enough.

“Harder,” he groaned, trying to roll down into it, barking out a sharp sound of pleasure when he listened, speed and strength increasing. Scout’s thighs collided with him on every ingress, and they were hard and firm in a way that was exactly punishing enough to make him melt. The onslaught was so perfect, so much better than he could recreate in his head, and he found breath difficult, distantly aware of the sweat rapidly starting to bead on his face.

With plenty of partners, Sniper could expect the pace to shift, falling into something more relaxing for a few moments to gather up some more energy. But Scout didn’t pause, didn’t falter, the strength of his legs and core put to an unexpectedly pleasureable use as he damn near fucked Sniper’s brains out, hard and unrelenting like a machine. It left his head spinning, the edge slinking into view almost embarrassingly quickly, and he was secretly a bit glad for the way his wrists were bound just then because otherwise he was sure he’d be spilling over his own hand in seconds.

Scout held him there, teetering, close but unable to close that last bit of distance before the finish line, until his own breath was ragged, until his pace shifted into something heavier. “Ready?” Scout asked him, practically a croak, and Sniper could only stammer a few words in the affirmative before he was back to wordless exhalations as Scout spat into his hand and started jerking Sniper off, firm and straightforward, and his moan of defeat was largely hidden under the curses Scout managed through gritted teeth, both of them spent at damn near the same moment.

Sniper’s descent back down to earth was slow, and he murmured a sort of complaint when Scout pulled out and got free of his legs. But then his arms were untied, and he was being pulled close into an embrace.

“Wanna get clean now, or in the morning?” Scout mumbled into his hair, sounding downright contented.

“Morning,” Sniper said.

“Cool. Roll over.”

Sniper did, a bit confused, and chuckled when he was pulled back against Scout’s chest and cradled. “Mate, don’t need coddling,” he said, amused.

“Bottom gets to be little spoon. It’s the rules. Shuttup and let me cuddle you,” Scout pouted into the back of his neck, words muddled by his lips being pressed against skin.

“Fair,” he agreed, and adjusted his head a little to get more comfortable, clasped an arm around one of Scout’s. “Worried about my, er. Enthusiasm anymore?”

“A little,” Scout said. Sniper frowned and was about to ask some follow up questions, but Scout elaborated. “I mean, fuck, I bet the whole base heard you, even from way out here.”

“I’ll make you go sleep in your own room,” Sniper warmed, tone dead serious. “Don’t test me.”

A little laugh, a squeeze. “Nah, but really. I’m glad you said somethin’. And now I’ve got somethin’ to look forward to next weekend.”

“And what’s that?” Sniper asked quizzically.

“What was it you said, uh—“stuff me full of a toy and bugger my mouth, mate, that’s aces, oh holy dooley”, wasn’t it?”

“Right, I’m showering and you’ve got fifteen seconds to get out,” Sniper said flatly, starting to get out of bed, even as Scout laughed, starting to protest, holding on tight to him and refusing to let go even at the threat of falling out of the bed.

To be fair, it wasn’t the next week. It was the next morning when they woke up and Scout saw the fingerprint bruises all over Sniper’s thighs. But either way, Sniper would begrudgingly admit that he was glad he’d said something too.

[mourningcastiel-blog]

Baby!Cas👶

Characters : Castiel Dean Sam

Word Count : 1,712

Author : Erica & Emily (Us)

Warnings : Cliche ;)

Written for : Destiel / DeanCas shippers / Family Winchester

__________

Chapter 1 :

“ Sweet Dreams Feathers”

Dean didn’t know that bringing Cas to fight a witch was going to have consequences… He thought it was going to be a like a normal case; grab witch killing bullets, find the ugly son of a bitch, and then shoot. But somehow while he had his back to her she went for Cas. It was quick, she made her way to Cas placing a small hex bag in his pocket of his withered trench coat. Making her escape, Cas noticed the brown bundle pulling it out of his large coat pocket. He held it unsure whether to discard the little sack himself or to tell Dean. He didn’t want to seem useless, that he wasn’t knowledgeable in these different aspects in hunting. Castiel wanted to become a hunter, just like Sam and Dean. Be as great as them, he thought there would be no aftermath if he were to just throw the hex bag away. Thinking that because he’s a celestial-being, a simple witchy spell would have no affect on him. Understandable, right? A Hex bag is honestly just dirt, a few little bones, and some herbs. Wrapped in a dirty brown cloth, tied with leather. No big deal.

_

Just as they were leaving the open case, walking down the creaky old wooden stairs of that bitch witch house. Castiel stayed behind the two burly Winchesters watching them both walk in sync; keeping some distance from them and himself. Bickering and arguing over and over about the same thing, ‘I could have took the damn shot!’ ‘We’ll get her Dean, just have to wait. Read up on the lore.’ Castiel waited for the right moment to the discard the sack, while the boys were distracted by their own selves. Grabbing the brown cloth, he lightly tossed the bag into a nearby wildering shrub making no noticeable noise. Paying no mind, as he follow behind closer reaching their destination of the Chevy Impala. Granted, it was just across the street from the ratty old house. Castiel opened the heavy backseat door of the Impala, hearing it squeak as it slammed closed causing the half open windows to shake with an echoing rattle.

_

“Awesome! Just awesome.” Dean jammed the keys into the ignition, starting up his baby… Giving her a roar as his worn out boot stomped down on the petal; sending the Impala quickly forward down the empty street.

_

The fast motion sent both Sam and Castiel lunging forward towards the windshield. “Dean!” Sam’s hand rapidly slammed down in front of him, keeping his body up from colliding against the windshield. “Come on man!” Cas followed agreeing with only a grunt, making his body shift back; to the position he was once in. He was sitting in the middle seat with a perfect view of the muggy midnight light. All three Winchester boys drove down the empty road, for a solid fifteen minutes. Half the drive Dean’s eyes weren’t even on the road, his main excuses ‘You don’t need to see if you’re an expert driver’or ‘I know what i’m doing dammit.’ Castiel was quiet the whole drive back, he didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention. Or for Dean to ask him questions, he couldn’t answer. He would get fluster, and more likely stutter his words. Which only made Sam turn his flannel covered body around to look at him, judgingly of course. Sam is such a silent judger, Dean is just damn intimidating. But. Lucky with Dean’s “expert” driving they made it back to the bunker, alive. Thank Chuck. _

Squirrel got out of the car first, ripping the worn out keys from the ignition. Sam followed his motion, one leg came out of the car then the other. As he stood up completely towering over the low car, both of the indestructible metal doors slammed closed rudely at the same time. Castiel got out last, as usual. Letting the Winchester’s lead the way to the bunker, he was polite with Dean’s items. Never wanting to touch them, not wanting to break them; as if they were a gift from God.

_

The Impala door creaked loudly echoing in the silent night. Castiel opened the door gently and raised himself from those worn leather seats Dean adored so much. He was walking to the Winchesters when a sudden wave of nausea seemed to crash against his skull. ‘Wh.. what is this?’ Castiel was questioning why he was feeling this physical pain. Why was it so bad? The pain was foreign to him, this human experience. ‘Humans go through this, everyday? Dean goes through this too?’ This pain wasn’t angel radio, he knew that instinctively. Cas tried to be the least obvious, but that didn’t work so well. He gripped the side of his raven black hair holding his cranium in a steady position, as he let out an involuntary groan. It was like a cry for help, his trenchcoated body descended forward to the pavemented floor. Luckily the angel’s hand caught himself before his entire body could come to a crashing holt, his hand was the only thing keeping his body up. Castiel felt a rough grip at his bicep, causing the fabric to become tight around his skin. It was Dean, using every ounce of strength he had; he pulled the heavy angel to his feet. _

“Alright up we go Buddy.” His grip became gentle, letting his hand never leave his bicep. Slowly his large hand lingered down the length of the mucky beige trench, until Dean’s sudden motion stopped reaching his friend’s blamy hand. Dean’s concerned emerald eyes never left the blue eyed Saint, as he turned Castiel’s hand upright. Letting his palm face up, his skin had broke; revealing his vessel’s red flesh. Bloody and bruised, Dean steadily placed his hand flat on top of the throbbing open wounds. He didn’t care whether or not it was unsanitary; uneasily he need to keep himself in check. Holding the sky eyed man was the only way Dean knew how to calm him down. After all, he doesn’t need Castiel to freak an angel off. To heavens know where! _ “Cas what the hell was that?” He exclaimed sternly yet concerned eyeing his feathered friend.

_

“I - I don’t know. M-y h-ead. Its filled with this unusual pain, I have not experienced before…” Castiel’s stuttering words fluttered off as he realized Dean’s sensual gesture. The eldest Winchester has never been so handsy. He always kept his distance, but yet; Castiel welcomed the new experience. Sam turned, looking over his broad shoulder spotting the two men in their own personal chick-flick moment and scoffed dramatically. _

Turning back and ignoring the current situation he inserted the small key into the bunker door, twisting the ashen doorknob. Opening the heavy solid metal door letting it slam open. Sam stepped inside leaving the two to make things awkward. The minute Sam stepped into the bunker he shivered, it has always been either bitter cold or so hot that Dean would take off his shirt and lay on the cold cement floor. Shaking off the thought he made himself down the staircase while pulling up his zipper on the jacket he had worn for years.

_

“Alright just, just come inside. It aint that bad Cas…” Dean’s forest eyes left the hurting angel, raising his hand he gestured feathers to the direction of the Lettermans bunker. Dean followed towards the building gruffly while Cass followed quickly waddling down the dirty steps, each time he placed his foot down it was weary and hostile.

_

They all gathered at the cold glass table in the middle of the main corridor and Dean plopped himself on one of the wooden chairs “Eugh! Im beat!” he moaned throwing his head back dramatically, of course. Sam shook his head in utter judgment.

_

“Dean we didn’t even do anything. The witch got away, remember?.” his tone was obviously rude to prod Dean to motivation.

_

“Well you’re a party pooper. I’m turning in for the night. Sweet dreams feathers, Samuel.” he stood up from his position on the wooden chair and made his way out of the room.

_

“Phst. It’s Sam!” the youngest Winchester rolled his exaggerated eyes.

_

“Um…” Castiel rubbed his head, his headache was killing him. Each minute of him standing up made him even more nauseous, the sudden waves made his hands shake as he started to feel chilly.

_

"I - Ill just go to my room.” he scurried weakly to his room; the world seemed to spin around him as he held to the wall padding towards his destination.  Pushing the chestnut wooden door open. There laid a bed, right it the middle of the penitentiary like room. The sheets were dull, a depressing shade of tan and grey. Untouched, Castiel has not once slept on the firm mattress; Angels don’t sleep. Nor does Castiel like sleeping. Alone. Actually, the only time he’s in his personal sleeping corder is to get away from the Winchester drama. He doesn’t stay long; never wanting to overstay his welcome. Normally he angels off. Leaving a note of his coordinates of course; Dean taught him well…

_

“The human species - the-y. They have - a suspension of consciousness. When - they are ill?” Wings started to pull the unwrinkled sheets forward allowing space for his body to vacate the mattress. His mind was scrambled, without noticing his own very action. Cas slipped into the bed, laying flat on his aching back. Wearing his “casual” clothing, trenchcoated business wear to be exact. You got to give him some credit, he took of his dress shoes. Atleast. With one tug he pulled the dull musty blanket to his chin. Which sent the blanket right pass his toes, leaving them bare to the cold September night. Wiggling them playfully at the sense of nothing covering over them, the six foot angel was too big for the tiny bed. Itty bitty bed for a giant, he snuggled against the blanket like a pea in a pod. His ocean eyes became heavy, blinking them at the sound of throbbing beat in his head. It was like a white noise to the Saint, maybe it was a heartbeat but maybe it wasn't… The effect took holded of him, forcing an involuntary unconsciousness.

To be continued…

[artificialzeezee]

Satire Sexuality: Cocktails and resolutions.

Summary: Cis!girl bitney - University brings out things never expected within people. The truth, the lies, the worst of the best and everything in-between. There’s the pressure of first time independence along with finding yourself, and the dread of loneliness that needs to find time in your schedule. Drinking, smoking, sex and studying; life has to keep going. Couples meet, lovers clash and it all happens while becoming an adult, what could go wrong?

Happy New Year! Alix makes an appointment, Danny consoles his best friend, and everyone plays drinking games.

Warning: LGBT+ issues (such as homophobia, transphobia and the conflict of coming out), many sexual references, alcohol and drug mentions and violence. (not always relevant to each chapter but to be expected) - Mostly original characters minus girl!Bianca and girl!Courtney

[A lot of in depth conversation about transition, and an outsiders feelings that may come off as offensive but aren’t intended. It’s not really trigger worthy but better to put a warning than not!] 

[P.s. a pretty long chapter- as in 30 pages long. I didn’t want to split it up and have a two parter again so I just left it to be really long! Enjoy!<33]

PART FIFTEEN: “First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.”

-

There wasn’t a chemical difference that festered in the air- burnt on bare skin to accompany the knowledge that it was a new year, people just knew and celebrated that the beginning was back. A freshness caught in the fruitful, buoyant space of their lungs. New years was a time for new starts and plans of action.

Bianca decided she wanted to be back in Wandsworth for New Years. Despite Kendra’s protests, Bianca insisted she’d already taken up too much space in her mother’s apartment and she just wanted to be alone. Truthfully, Bianca couldn’t bare watching Kendra so happy with her parents, not being able to experience the same thing. She couldn’t bare being around her best friend after her small break down, as the embarrassment weighed down like dark entities, and she needed to be away. Back in the flat, alone, pitying herself. 

“I feel good with you. Really good, and I woke up missing you.”

She hasn’t been able to forget her conversation with Courtney, and how stale it felt. The broken barriers between them, Bianca felt herself slowly and surely fixing them, in order to never let herself get so hurt by the blonde bombshell again. The whole train ride home, Bianca finds her chest lunging for someone that’s not there, and her hands ache to touch the curves she knows will bring her to tears. Her head pounds, never taking a break from the dawning thoughts that soon she’ll be reunited with Courtney, and she’s nervous about it. Terribly nervous, that every so often, if she pounders too long about it, she feels deathly nauseous and dizzy.

That’s why when she arrives back at the apartment, she wastes as little to no time there. She throws her suitcase in her room and calls Zara.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favourite yank.”

“You having a party tonight, Z?”

“What do you think? Of fucking course! I thought you were out of town though-”

“I need to get wasted, and I need to get laid. Are you going to help me achieve these goals?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me. Get your ass here at 8 o’clock, and bring a bottle of something. Preferably vodka.”

She puts on all her best makeup. Slick wings, feathery fake lashes, and the cherry on top of the cake that has become a signature of Bianca’s, the luscious plump red lips. Desirable, exquisite, and she can’t wait to smother the colour across someone’s pink lips later, in a drunken wonderment of lust. She straightens her hair, long and luxurious, shimmering in the pink sun set, as it peaks through Bianca’s open window. She puts on waist high jeans with a small yellow smiley face stitched into the flare, and an orange flimsy shirt tied in the middle. Admiring her reflection, she notes the bumps of her body and sighs with dissatisfaction.

Courtney was beautiful - she could wear this same outfit, and be a beckon of allure, and Bianca is nothing but a lump of disinterest. Her chest isn’t supple and delicate for the low cut collar, her hips aren’t perfectly chiseled to hide the truth of her stretch marks, and her presence isn’t flawless, effortless sex appeal that “little miss perfect” could do without even breaking a sweat. Bianca envied her, for her slender frame, her baby face, and her precious, wide innocent eyes that made everyone fall at her feet like slaves.

Bianca didn’t like to admit it, but she was self conscious. Sometimes she liked how she looked, sometimes she didn’t care, but more than likely she found herself wishful for a reflection that didn’t make her skin crawl. Looking at herself, and seeing how her curves didn’t look womanly, but rather just made her look bloated and lumpy, she envied those around her. Courtney’s stick-like legs, Kendra’s keen jaw line, Zara’s extensive height giving her the appearance of a rake. Bianca was surrounded by slim women who barely lifted a finger to gain attraction. 

And Bianca just wasn’t one of them. 

She had a cup size bigger than her face, and she had a wide ass, and thighs that chaffed when she walked. She had a double chin looking down at her phone, and sometimes she stressed that sleeveless outfits made her arms look fat.  Looking at herself, her heart fluttered nervously, thinking people would laugh at her. She tugged her trousers up a little, tossed her long hair over her back and turned to her side to see her bum. 

“Least that aint so bad.” She chuckled. She shook her head, deciding despite her self confidence being dust under her high heels, she’d put on a brave face and go out in the outfit regardless. Her brother told her she looked “fish” when he bought it for her, and usually he was a better judge of fashion than she was. She grabbed her phone off the counter and her keys and rushed out her room.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she was startled at an unexpected figure drinking a beer while sat on the kitchen counter. Matt, in only his running shorts and his hair slicked back with sweat. She gasped, holding her chest as she regained her breath. He tittered, but as she approached closer, pouring herself a shot of tequila, his eyes began to wander over her body. 

“Wow, Del Rio. You’re looking fucking fit tonight.” He growled, practically drooling when she turned to face him and his eyes landed on her cleavage. Despite needing an ego boost, Bianca found herself more disgusted than flattered by Matt’s comment.

“You know how to charm a girl, don’t you, Matt?” She threw the tequila down and cringed, licking salt of her hand and then burying her teeth into a juicy lemon wedge. The sour stung her throat, contradictory as it soothed the burn trickling down to her stomach. She flailed her arms out and let out a brawled shout, then she turned to face Matt and his eyes were still a little too seductive for her liking. To think I ever fancied men, she thought to herself as he practically drooled over her chest. 

“Where are you off to then, Del Rio, dressed like that?” a guttural tone coloured his words dirty, and made her skin crawl. She poured out another shot, knowing she’d need to hurry up and get tipsy if she was to withstand a conversation with him.

“A party.”

“That’s all the information you’re giving me?”

“Don’t want you showing up and crashing it.”

“I would never. Although, an excuse to get drunk and get laid would be appreciated.”

Bianca wanted to throw up, thinking she’d said something scarily similar to his words. She threw back her third shot, twitching her head as the shiver took over her nerves and the sudden dreary lightness of drinking began to infect her blood. Enough shots, she dictated to herself, grabbing her vodka from her cupboard and pouring herself a vodka and cranberry drink: double.

“So, no address? C’mon, help a man out.”

“No fucking way. None of the girls there are gonna like you away.”

“Oh. They all rug munchers too?”

She cocked her jaw, as flashing images of punching him hard, blackening his eye delighted her anger. “That’s exactly why you’re not coming,” she chugged her drink as fast as possible, grabbing her vodka and walking to the front door, “Because you’re a cunt.”

She slammed the door behind her and resisted the urge to punch the wall. Matt was intolerable. She wished that when moving into a flat in England she could have ended up with three perfectly respectful roommates she’d adore, not two and an asshole they saw once in a blue moon. At least he was only there on the odd occasion, when he wasn’t busy blindly intoxicated or drugged up on too much weed and horse tranquillisers, or playing football with a group of guys as annoying as he was. They rarely had to endure his crude behaviour, and even then, Kendra was usually able to escape it. Trevor was always the butt of his jokes, and Bianca was the toy he liked to play with.

“Fucking dick.” she muttered to herself as she walked outside the complex and into the uber she’d ordered. 

Zara’s house was thriving with life, the walls practically colliding with each other as the music blared out remixes and dubstep. Bianca sheepishly walked in, clutching her vodka close to her hip. Zara and Harriet lived in a rather large house, decorated lavishly and usually kept rather clean. It was unexpected to see such pristine care for the home of two girls in their 20′s, and to live somewhere that seemed like a pipe dream to a struggling student like Bianca was inspiring. Currently, however, the house was littered with other guests in their 20s, grinding against each other and slurring messy terms of endearments toward one another. The yellowish creamy colours of their interior decorations had been transformed into dreamy waves as the sunset flushed the room and the dim lights gave everyone a lusting twinkle deep in their iris’. Bianca stepped through the crowds of people, attempting to find a familiar face.

In the kitchen she found Harriet talking to a cute blonde, with a bob hair cut and dark skin, and a body that Bianca tried not to stare at. She was going to slyly introduce herself into the conversation, but Harriet spotted her and squealed in delight, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Bianca. She squeezed tight, resembling an anaconda, and Bianca grunted as her bones practically popped.

“Bianca! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you!” Harriet swung as they embraced, laughing sweetly between each breath. She was especially adorable tonight, wearing a red plaid skirt high on her hips and an off the shoulders black tight top, accentuating the rigid lines of her collar bones and the small crack of her cleavage. Her hair was long and kinked down her back, shimmering dark in the little light that brightened the room. Harriet was the kind of girl with a picture perfect face - strong cheekbones, rotund pink lips, the sort of eyes that a person could spend years swimming in without ever finding an unruly wave. Bianca appreciated Harriet majorly, and if she didn’t know any better she’d have made a pass at her long before. 

“Hay, Harriet.” Bianca wriggled free, eyes flipping between her and the stranger. “Where uh, is Zara?”

“Oh, somewhere, who knows! Probably galavanting with some girl as per usual.” Harriet shrugged, reaching behind herself to pick up her drink. “Don’t worry, she’ll save you a dance. Oh my God she’d going to be so excited you came!”

“She will?”

“Well...whatever passes for excitement when it’s Zara.” She chuckles, turning to face her friend and then gasps. “Oh would you look at me, I’m so rude! Bianca, this is my friend, Ebele. We work together.”

Bianca smirked, nodding at the girl. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Ebele’s voice was silvery, dripping like gold acid down her purple lips, and Bianca found herself completely wrapped up in whatever this girl might have to say - the stories covered in luxurious rich jewels, oozing grace and importance, and edge. Her dark, mesmerising eyes, like the ageing colours of a grand opera house, sparkling too. She took the straw in her can of pimms and sucked it slowly, staring at Bianca the whole time, as a smile crept at the side of her mouth devilishly.

Courtney who? Bianca thought, trying even harder not to stare at the stunning girl giving her ‘fuck-me’ eyes. “So, got any cups, Harriet?” Bianca asked, holding her vodka up. Harriet jumped off to grab her a generic red cup - like the ones Bianca’s brother would buy for beer pong - and she poured herself a generous amount of vodka to mix. 

She stayed with Ebele and Harriet for a few more minutes, talking about their christmas’ and some guy at their work that keeps asking Harriet out, and then she excused herself. She decided to be the lone wolf in a gang of dogs in heat, watching closely: wisely. She put her foot against the wall and sipped on her drink, admiring the chaos of young adults pretending everything was fine, as long as they were too drunk to think about their problems. 

A girl dressed up casual, in baggy jeans and a checkered shirt, with a snapback on and her long black hair almost reaching her bum. She stood with two boys, laughing obnoxiously as they downed their beers, every so often nodding out of time to the music. The two boys, dressed similarly to her, laughing with half the energy and checking over their shoulders every few seconds to meet the eyes of other guests. In the corner are two girls, cuddling on the arm chair, completely electrified by the other person and under their spell that to even try and blink would be sinful. Both gorgeous, skinny and brunette, merely inches away from kissing one another. A few steps away from them are a group of guys, joshing around and making crude hand gestures as they looked over at the two girls. Bianca didn’t expect anything less from a group of guys. 

Standing alone, she was able to gather all the translucent thoughts scattering the web of her mind. Bianca didn’t like being left alone with her thoughts for too long, and had gotten into the habit off finding meaningless distractions as soon as her brain wandered out of the bonds of comfortability. 

Too much pressure to excel. 

Relying on drinking. 

Afraid of what awaits her in America.

Homophobia. 

Body image issues.

Courtney.

Homesick. 

Courtney.

Typical poor student.

Courtney.

Courtney Act.

Courtney fucking Act.

She couldn’t seem to shake herself off the damn, disastrous tease, despite being surrounded by dozens of drop dead gorgeous women. Her thoughts kept coming back to the thin legs, and the Australian accent, and the blonde hair- the God damn blonde hair, sweeping across Courtney’s face, caught in Bianca’s fingers, frail but shinning, caught in Courtney’s mouth, spread over her pillow-

That damn blonde hair. Bianca despised being under the spell of someone else. A control freak, just like her father, and just like her grandmother, and just like her brother. Bianca’s blood ran with the same desire to keep control no matter what should try disrupt the balance of her efforts. A damn blonde, kissing her when she’s drunk on depression, tearing out her heart, toying with it, crushing it, tapping it back together. Bianca was done being Courtney’s confusing phase.

Even if she wasn’t the first.

“Could you look anymore depressed if you tried?” Bianca’s head whipped round beside her, and there stood Zara, looking as enticing as fire. A red bra underneath a netted vest top and tight, torn black skinny jeans, accompanied by dock martins. Even with her heels, Zara still managed to tower over Bianca, resting her forearm on the wall above Bianca’s head. Her black hair like a clear winters night, and she smelled like apple cider and a friend’s bed; too familiar yet foreign enough to get lost in the comfort. 

She straightened up, wiping any trace of her moment from her face with a witty smirk. “I mean, I could give it a try.”

“You shouldn’t. You look better when you smile.”

Bianca softly laughs. “Sure.” She downs the rest of her drink and whistles, opening her eyes as wide as possible while the adrenaline washes down her body like a waterfall, and the crashing in her stomach rippled through her blood. 

That’s where it began. Bianca let go and was alone, drunk and vulnerable. She had more vodka, laughing with Zara as they cuddled together like old friends, and made pals with a couple of broad shouldered boys, doing shots as a group. She danced on a table, she acquired a denim jacket 3 sizes too big, and she stopped thinking about Courtney long enough to take a breath. No more choking, she was able to feel her lungs expand, because being drunk gave her something Courtney couldn’t: freedom.

The rush kept her heart pumping, and nothing else mattered. Bianca hadn’t let go in so long, the muscles that were bound together had finally loosened and her aches caramelised sweetly against the will of her bubbling ego. She liked getting drunk, she loved how it made her feel carefree and ambitious and confident, as if she could be anyone and do anything. Letting per pressure determine the friendships and decisions she made that night, Bianca became a version of herself she imaged she was at 16 - when she only knew the outlines of her big plan, and didn’t worry about her labels, and was invincible behind a crowd that protected her. Drink after drink, she began to forget the stress that had consumed her life. Who cares that she broke Vivianne’s heart? Who cares that Courtney was breaking her own? Who cares about anything! All that seemed to matter at that very moment in time, was Zara’s body against hers as they danced, with Ebele close by, and a couple dozen other girls giggling. All that mattered was the false sense of happiness that she found herself drunk on.

“I told you you were better when you smiled!” Zara admired, eyes fluttering suggestively as she took Bianca’s hand and spun her around playfully. Bianca scoffed, grabbing Zara by the hips and pulling her against her body.

“Baby, I can show you so much better than a stupid smile.”

Zara cackled, falling against Bianca and using her body for support. The lean girl, like a grand weeping willow, dead weight against Bianca’s intoxicated self - she was struggling to keep herself standing let alone someone else.

Zara was drop dead gorgeous. She was the kind of girl Bianca couldn’t even imagine touching in her wildest dreams, given she had all the qualities of a perfect galaxy wrapped up in the security of a beautiful young woman. Shimmering, breath taking, whimsical - she was that of a great natural attraction, or a natural disaster, rolled into one. She was cocky, but endearing, and careful. Bianca needed careful. Really, she needed someone like Zara, and if she listened to her gut feeling, she’d be going after Zara without consideration as to what her heart wanted. Both lesbians, both single, and both deeply attracted to the idea of lust.

She pushed Zara up to stand for herself, and stroked her thumb down her cheek, staring deeply into the dark brown crystal shine of her eyes. Her skin was taunt and smooth, the light feel of silky foundation pressed against Bianca’s skin, and Zara purred in response, watching Bianca with a fiendish admiration that seemed foreign to the other girl.

“What is it you want?” Zara whispered, the honeyed tone making Bianca’s stomach twinge. Her hands began to feel clammy as they were grabbed and her body slammed into Zara’s. Her breasts pushed up and the cleavage she usually hides available and at the prying eyes of Zara’s desires. She bites her lip, eyes hidden under her lids as she stares at the rotund flesh that is barely contained in Bianca’s shirt. 

Bianca is dry of any coherent thought. All she has are hot, wet wants, seeping through her pours, echoing in the space of her gut, fuelled by the alcohol she’s poured down her throat. Her hands are clinging to Zara’s back, eager to hold her closer, and the heat flowing between them feels like a thousand hands caressing her more sensitive parts, loving her, needing her. She lets out a husky snicker...

Then she blinks. 

Next thing she knows, through the blurred daze that’s swept her off her feet, Bianca ends up up the stairs with Zara. She ends up in her bedroom with the other girl on the mattress as she lays beside her, grinning. 

The dull thudding still coming through the floors as life continues downstairs. Bianca’s mind, is just broken webs, floating in the breeze. She closes her eyes for a second and lets the hollow air smooth her over. She was forgetting all the unimportant worries clogging her up.

“I really miss you, B.”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s accent.

“Do you miss me?”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s smile.

“I’m smiley, and you’re grumpy, and I feel like we work!”

Bianca was forgetting how she felt about Courtney.

“I’ve never met someone like you before, B-”

Bianca was forgetting how to feel calm.

“-and I’ve never felt so much love for someone so quickly”

Bianca was forgetting how to breath-

“SHIT!” She screamed, suddenly jolting up in a panicked state, grabbing her chest as paranoid thoughts of her heart hanging out of a crudely cut hole in her skin filled her mind. Cold anxiety flushed her body, and she began heaving a nausea lacing her throat. She gripped the sheets of the bed, trying to make sense of the sudden attack that had shocked her. 

Zara sat up softly, putting an arm around her and shushed her gently, kissing her cheek and down her neck, unbothered by the clean panic attack Bianca was battling. Her eyes wide with fear, focused on the spot on the chest of drawers ahead of her, and she tried to reason with the hectic hysteria as it coursed her body, uninvited and unexpected. Tender kisses pressed against her red hot skin, and hands now trapping her to the bed that she once felt so comfortable to lay in. What was happening, why was she so panicked all of a sudden? Why, for the first time being with a girl and the one time it really mattered, did she care so much?

“No, Zara-” Bianca pushed her off, her breathing still erratic but she was starting to gain control. The older girl watched her, confused and somewhat amused to Bianca’s annoyance. “I can’t do this.” Bianca says, probably a little more stentorian in tone than she expected. She pushes herself off the bed and balances herself on the chest of drawers opposite, gripping the wood, wondering how hard she’d have to claw her nails into the wood till it chipped. Zara stayed quiet, watching, a brow raised.

“I’m a fucking mess.” Bianca breathed, pushing back her hair that had fallen around her face. She turns to face Zara, looking distressed. “I’m sorry, Z. I want to, I really want to, but I-”

“Yeah I get it, yanky. You’re still hooked on little miss perfect, right?” Zara stands up and struts toward Bianca, with an expression that could only be explained within the pages of a sweaty, unfiltered erotica. Bianca gulps, lets the girl lean her body against her as she traps her between her slim frame and the wood, and Zara smells sweet and fresh that Bianca is soaring higher and higher through the thick clouds blocking the cluttered spaces of her thoughts. Zara’s face is but a few inches from hers, and her lips are soft and dark, contoured in the hot shades of the dim room. “But for a minute, why don’t you just be happy?” She persuades, pressing her lips against the edge of her jaw line, kissing delicately. “This isn’t serious, and no one needs to ever know about this. Let’s just,” Zara gently pushes Bianca down to lay on her back, and straddles her lap. Bianca’s hands instinctively hold her hips, and she bites her lip when Zara pulls her top off over her head, revealing the tiny, womanly figure and the lacy bra that is thin enough Zara’s nipples protrude the material. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves right now. Stop thinking about that straight girl, and focus on me.”

Bianca swallows down the anxious knot tied around her voice box and nods, trying to push back the messy dread that had swarmed her but moments ago. A sly grin snakes across Zara’s face, and she leans down, cups Bianca’s face and kisses her tenderly, letting out a satisfied sigh when Bianca’s lips press back. 

It’s something. Coated in desire and frustration, and better intentions for that of another, on both parties side. Bianca knows that Zara is trying to convince everyone else before herself that she’s happy being single, and Bianca somewhat wonders if by being the interest of her drunken lust that she will become a regular distraction, but it doesn’t matter in the moment. Bianca holds Zara’s slim body, kisses her chest, squeezes her ass, and eventually she’s lost in the serenity of sex. Hot and heavy sex that only two friends pretending could truly admire and perfect. 

Bianca moans, Zara chuckles, there’s a mixture of deliciously delirious noises that stick to the sheets like the sweat dripping of their bodies. The party down stairs stays lively, but the two girls forget that anyone else even exists in the world let alone under the same roof they share...

-

Alix was going to start taking testosterone. He was actually transitioning, 100% committed and running with the bull.

As soon as he came back from Christmas, he had an appointment booked on the 3rd of January with his GP in Wandsworth. He explained he was transgender and wanted to start his transition. She’d recommended Alix go to a Gender Identity Clinic about 40 minutes away by train in London to talk through his options and what he really wanted. Alix was certain he was ready to transition and knew what he wanted, but he went never the less. It seemed he had to go if he was ever going to become truly who he was.

The experience was serial. He stepped through the automatic doors into a creamy yellow scene of clean, and that’s where he was faced with people like himself. Transgender people, who wanted to take the next step. He walked into the building and waited for his appointment beside a woman with skull tattoos covering her arms and gorgeous red hair that sat at her lower back. Opposite him, a guy with a pencil beard and long lashes, and then a women that almost looked like Courtney but with dyed white hair, strutting past to look at the leaflets not far from where he was sat. It looked like a GP surgery, but it was different.

He was one of them too, one of the people that was different to the eye. Some of these people had transitioned, others were in the middle of transitioning. The people around him were just like him, but at different stages of his goal.

Finally, a woman comes out with a cherry blossom smile and calls Alix into an office that is a collection of calm colours of yellow, blue and pink. It’s not like his GP’s office with diagrams of the human body or important health alerts on the walls that always attract eyes to read, but rather it’s plain and official. More dull, but less intense to sit in. The women, Mrs McLaughlin, with her short black bob and thin glasses perched on the end of her nose. She sits at the desk across from where Alix assumes is where he sits, and she smiles as if she knows him.

“You’re lucky we had a cancelation, usually it can take weeks or months to get an appointment here.” She laughs, pulling out her notebook and a fluffy top blue pen that distracts Alix’s eyes. “So, name?”

“Alix Williamson.” He answers, and she writes it down, delicately, but then he notices- “Oh, no, with an i, not an e. A, L, I, X.” She nods, correcting her mistake.

“Don’t think I’ve ever come across that spelling before. Is that the name you were given at birth?”

Alix shakes his head. “No. No, my name was Jodie.”

“Ah I see. So how long have people been calling you Alix?”

“About 5 years, I think? I mean, some people called me Alix, and now everyone calls me Alix. Does that count?”

“If you had anyone refer to you by your preferred name, then yes, it counts.” She smiles and then crosses her arms on the desk. “So you’ve been living as a male for a number of years already. Why have you never come to a GIC before?”

“I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to be…you know.” He run a hand through his hair and chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, I’ve been Alix since I was like 14 and I’ve been going by he the same amount of time. When I first told my mam, she wasn’t so supportive and that put me off. I guess now I’m living on my own, I feel confident doing this.”

Mrs McLaughlin noted down something he couldn’t quite make out, before nonchalantly asking, “Do you bind? If so, how long?”

“Um…” 

“There’s no need to feel uncomfortable. I know these may be some very personal questions you’re not use to discussing but I promise you, everything is confidential. This is a safe place.” She smiles sincerely.

Alix was never usually aware of his binder on his body unless brought up. After so long it just felt normal to wear, not constricting like in the beginning. Suddenly he could feel the stretchy material rubbing against his skin. “Yeah, I’d say almost 4 years…but, almost everyday binding 2 years. Does that make sense?”

“Yes it does.” The sound of her pen scribbling again. “What about the hair? Lovely colour by the way.”

“Thank you. I only shaved it before I came to university in August. Even then, it was longer,” he waved his hand over the left of his face, “this side. My friend gave it a decent trim before Christmas.”

“And before that, you had long hair?”

“Yeah, to keep my mam happy. I had it tied back most of the time, or in a hat.” He smiled tossing his head as if the long strands were still there and would wave by. “I never liked having long hair anyway. It was always in the way and it was hot in the summer!”

She writes it all down as if her life depends on the end of her pen, and Alix watches her careful cursive as she makes no mistake. It’s a girls handwriting - pretty and delicate with every letter looking sharp, and then his eyes lift to her face. She’s a pointed woman, like if she was put in a room of balloons they would pop at just her gaze, and her bones peak beneath the frail colour of her skin, but she’s almost beautiful. Maybe for someone who likes thin, secure women, but not enough for Alix. Her ears are pixie like, and she wears small cheap gold earrings that Alix didn’t think anyone over the age of 17 would wear. McLaughlin - a pristine, persist woman of strict elegance.

“Tell me, Alix,” she sets her pen down on her notebook and looks at him with an adult smile, “What are you intentions with coming here? With transitioning, what is it you want?” She crosses her legs and places her hands on her pointy knee. “GIC has the aim of helping people who are transexual to start loving themselves, and start the road toward the life they want to live. What is it you want us to help you with?”

Initially, Alix thinks ‘I want a dick and a beard’ and then holds back his tongue from blurting out the crude answer. Truthfully, he does want those things. He wants rid of his feminine attributes so that he can look at himself without doubt and feel like the person he’s been trying to convince everyone else he is. He wonders why it’s even a question - doesn’t every trans person want the whole package?

“I…want to be a boy.” He replies, oh-so matter of factually, with a dumbfounded smile that she does’t take. Mrs McLaughlin raises a brow and hums, putting her elbow on the table and resting against her hand as if he’s supposed to carry on. Alix finds himself racking his brain for a logically answer- the answer she expects, before shrugging. “I mean, I’m here for the obvious, right? I want to be a guy, completely. I-I don’t want breasts, and I don’t want a girly face, and I don’t want anyone to mistake my gender. I want to be a boy, 100%.”

“So you want to transition completely?”

“Well…doesn’t everyone? Why would you come here if you didn’t want to transition?”

Mrs McLaughlin takes a deep breath. “Everyone’s different. Some people want to have top surgery but not bottom surgery, and some people aren’t initially comfortable with taking medication for whatever reason. We help people to understand exactly what they want with their transition. Some people are comfortable with their bodies but just need emotional guidance. You however,” her smile slides almost with a certain cockiness that puzzles Alix. “You know what you want, by the sounds of things. Medication, surgery and therapy.”

“Therapy? I don’t need-“

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s to help you cope as your body changes. You need to understand, Alix, that the influx of testosterone that will enter your body due to medication will have a massive effect on your emotions let alone your physical state. A lot of transgender men struggle with sudden and irrational anger that they’re not use to, and it’s not something that lasts forever but it may be very difficult to deal with in the beginning, especially if you’re under a lot of stress.”

Alix almost found the idea humorous - that he could possibly hold anymore anger in his body. He jolts one of his shoulders. “I’m fine though. I mean, if it gets me closer to what I want then fairs, I’ll do what I gotta do but uh...I’m all good up here.” He taps the side of his head and chuckles. 

She doesn’t laugh back. She hums, and scribbles something messily that Alix finds gives him a sense of dread. The dagger stuck in his back that holds him back from the whole process, dictated by the ink and paper. He holds a breath in his chest and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that this was a mistake. Alix wants this, more than anything any one of his friends has ever wanted let alone himself. 

“I need to be Alix.” His statement comes out like a plead, and she lifts her eyes to see his worry, stopping in her tracks of writing. He licks his dry lips and takes a steady breath. “Since I was a little kid, I have always felt different to all the other kids in my class or on my street. All the girls would play dress up and they liked playing the mum at lunch time games, but I didn’t. I figured it was nothing, there were girls I knew that had action men and liked trucks, and my friend Danny even owned a tutu that he refused to take off for a week straight, but...he did take it off. They could all take off the unimportant kiddy games and turn off, and I couldn’t. I hated wearing dresses and having pigtails because I hated looking like my sister and every other girl I knew. I hated not being allowed to play rugby with the guys, and I hated how boys wouldn’t take me seriously about video games when I’d been playing them since I was 6 with my dad. I just want to finally be the person on the outside that I know I am on the inside. I want to prove to everyone that it wasn’t a phase. I didn’t grow out of some ‘tom boy stage all little girls go through’, because I’m a boy. I need to be Alix on the outside, because everyone assumes I’m Jodie, when all I have ever been, is Alix...nothing else.”

Mrs McLaughlin grins, and it steadies Alix’s frazzles heart. She scribbles something on her paper before pulling out a pamphlet from her desk, sliding it across the table for Alix to look at. “Well then, how about we plan your transition.”

Alix has never felt so happy before. This is it, the beginning of his life.

-

Courtney ox: Guess who’s bought you back wine? Australian Durif to be persist.

Danny xo: It better be you! Otherwise you’ll be very sorry to get my hopes up!

Courtney ox: Uh oh.

Danny xo: Get your butt in my room right now missy! Unless that “uh oh” was serious, cause in that case I want you to march to the nearest corner shop and buy wine, you tease!

There comes a knock at Danny’s door a few seconds later, and there stands a glowing Courtney, with the bottle of wine she had mentioned. She waves it in front of Danny, and he is hypnotised by the allure like a dog to a bone. He snatches the bottle from her hands then tugs her through, throwing her onto the bed and locking his dorm door. She giggles, pushing her hair out of her face and watching as he takes two red cups from the stack on his desk and pours more than plenty enough wine for them both. 

“Right then. Come on,” He offers her one of the cups and sits beside her on the bed, crossing his legs like a woman. “Tell me the gossip. What happened in Australia?”

Courtney sipped her drink. “What makes you think anything happened?” and before she can even make up a lie, Danny gives her a knowing smirk, his eyes glistening with the best intent but devils interest.

“Are you an honest to god naive bombshell, or do you just pretend to be an idiot at times?” He snickers, putting his cup on his side table and crossing his arms. “Bitchy Del Rio told Kendra, who told Trevor about what you got up to back home. You made out with a girl?”

What came over Courtney was a sudden mixture of all the worst - shock, anger, nausea, the intense desire to run frantically for nothing in particular. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to tell Danny everything that happened, but the fact that Bianca had told Trevor about it all hurt her. She confined in the other girl thinking she could trust her, unload the troubles of her mind with an honest secrecy between them. What had happened confused Courtney majorly, she needed to try detangle it, and she had hoped that Bianca would help her with that. Knowing now, that she had betrayed her trust and had told people about Courtney’s adventure, infuriated her. 

She swallows around the cluster of emotions building in her throat and cleanses it with the sweet smooth feeling of wine. After swallowing, she shrugs her shoulder and laughs. “It really wasn’t that big a deal. I made out with a girl and almost had a threesome. Replace girl with guy and that would have been one of your regular Saturday’s back in the day.”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning on the bed and propping himself up with his elbow. “Considering how freaked out you were when it came to kissing Bianca, I’m shocked you made out with another girl so casually while you were home.” Danny arched his brow, trying to break through the shield she held up. “And the fact you told the person who is completely and utterly hung up on you-”

“Bianca isn’t-”

“I know you’re not that naive, Courtney.” Danny says, sternly. He takes another drink of his wine, watching as the worry lines settle on her forehead. Danny is fine to be Courtney’s shoulder to cry on, he’s taken that roll on with pride and dignity, as he always has with his friends. However, the frustration of watching her not only lie to herself but to him is something he’s never experienced before, and the wire of his patience is starting to fray. “Why are you so afraid to admit the truth? Especially to me of all people!”

“Maybe because you and your boyfriend have a pair of big mouths who can’t seem to keep a secret secret!”

“Don’t even drag Trevor into this, because you know I’ll defend him in a heartbeat. He’s had a hard christmas and he’s worried about one of his closest friends. Everyone else can see it except you.”

“There is nothing to see, Danny!”

“Courtney, I’m gay! Of all the people, why don’t you trust me with the truth? What am I going to say-”

“For God sake, maybe I don’t want to talk about it! Why are you so fucking persistent?” She slams her wine down on the table, standing up over him as he frowns at her. They’re both frowning at one another. “You all want to get involved when the truth is, none of you have the right! I’ve known you barely half a year, and Bianca’s roommates even less than that! You all think you can just tell me what I should be because you’re all so happy with yourselves and you’ve figured it out- well guess what? Not everyone has done that! I’m still figuring myself out! You’re gay, Trevor’s bi, Alix is transitioning...you all know!”

“Oh, so what, we all have it so easy?!”

“Not what I said! But at least you have a clue. You know where you’re all going and what to do if it gets tough. I don’t know what I am, where I’m going, or who will be there along the way!”

“That’s why you talk about it, instead of bottling it up-���

“I’m good at bottling it up. I’ve learnt how to perfect bottling it up, and I’ll stick to it. All you’ve done, Danny, is judge me! You judged Steven, you judge Bianca- you don’t have my best interest at heart, you’re just a damn gossip!”

Danny gasps, cocking his jaw and standing to square up to her, hover inches above where their heights differ. “You know what, Court? I’m done catering to your feelings.” He points his long index finger at her face, still scowling, and she starts to retreat in her anger. “You’re gay, Courtney! You, are, gay! And it’s not a scary thing! Everyone is gay these days, and most of your friends are gay, and you are smitten with a lesbian! Admit it, you’re gay!”

“I’m not gay-”

“No, admit it.”

‘Danny, you’re being-”

“Admit that you’re gay.”

“I’m starting to get so-”

“Just admit it!”

“FINE!” Courtney screams, making him cower back. Her whole body changes in a flash- shoulders tensed, fists clenched, her teeth gritted and eroding her pearly whites as she heaves on thick breaths. Her eyes hurt from how intense she glares at him. “I have liked girls, okay?! I like girls- I think women can be just as attractive as men and maybe, just maybe, I like Bianca! There, you fucking happy?!” She starts to well up, but tries to keep her raged demeanour. Danny stops being angry when he sees the water balling up in the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know for sure what I want, or who I like, but if you’re so desperate to break me down then here you go! I’m broken! I once dated a girl back in Australia and I kissed her when I went home, and you know why I called Bianca? Because I felt fucking guilty! Because I didn’t want to kiss anyone else or be with anyone else, and I didn’t want her to find out through anyone else, because all of you are so fucking nosey and spread shit like wildfire! So there, I told her because God damn it, I respect her and I really fucking LIKE HER!”

Courtney practically screams the last part, and the tears begin falling from her eyes, but she doesn’t retract her rage. She stands with the strength of 10 men, and the height of a giant, and she wills a hole to burn through Danny. There he stands, with sorrow in his eyes, and she wants him to leave her alone and plead her forgiveness at the same time. She hasn’t felt so angry in years, but it feels sweet to release all the pent up frustration- illusively delicious, like she could spend up all of her anxiety and cash out for the explosive rage every time things feel even a little bad. 

But as the quiet settles, and his eyes grow more with a pathetic pity, she suddenly feels the punch of her words hit her in the gut. Courtney said it out loud, the terrifying admission she’d been trying to squeeze down, now out in the open for all to bare and discuss like they had any right to. Danny, her best friend, now knew for sure...

“Danny, I-”

“I’m sorry, babe. I never should have pushed you to say anything.”

“No, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things to you. I didn’t...I just, all of this is so...I never meant you guys have it easy, of course I didn’t!”

“I know.” He gently puts his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tight. As soon as she’s against his warm chest, hearing the soothing patter of his heartbeat, she releases the floodgates and sobs against his hold. Danny strokes her back, shushing her, trying to console her troubled mind. 

“Courtney, you are my best friend. I don’t care how long I’ve known you, I care so much about you. If you don’t want me to tell anyone, including Trevor, then I won’t.” He laces his fingers in the hair down her back, brushing it. Her cries begin to quiet and all she’s left with are soft sniffles and old tears. Danny hates that he made her explode so disastrously, but to some degree he’s relieved she had let it out now than later. “But listen,” he softly pushes her back, crouching down to meet her at eye level, “This isn’t a bad thing. You know she’s crazy about you to! Why don’t you just tell her?”

“No.” She bluntly responds, furrowing her brows. “No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because...I don’t want to. I don’t know exactly what I want. I just...I don’t want to feel this confused.” She tugged at his denim shirt, tugging him closer to her again as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to deny anymore tears. Danny kept her close, resuming stroking her back and hoping there would be a resolution soon, to stop her sadness. 

“Coming out is hard, Courtney, but it’s not always as scary as people think. Your parents are accepting and obviously so are your friends! You just have to be brave and make the jump. Yes, me, Trevor and Alix are all out in whatever way that may be, but you think it’s all picking daisies and sunshine?” Danny let her go, tugging her down to sit back on the bed and wiping a tear from under her eye. His smile had returned to the usual goofy, loveable way it was. “God no! Alix’s sister still doesn’t accept him, Trevor’s whole family are unsupportive of him, and you think kids on my block just accepted me with open arms? The thing is, we just stick with those who do accept us. Why focus too long on the negative!” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her cheek. She focused on him with divine interest. “You, my beautiful girl, have too big of a heart to feel so sad. Be yourself, Courtney. Please.”

Courtney dabbed the corners of her eyes, taking a calm breath, and let her eyes look anywhere other than Danny’s. She wasn’t ready- it was that simple. She knew Bianca’s track record when it came to girls and to be one of a long list would be too hard to handle. After so much time of denial, even when it was most obvious, it wasn’t worth it in her opinion to come out when she didn’t feel like it would be a definite thing. She wasn’t going to risk compromising the biggest secret she’d held so close to her, just to watch it shatter into a million pieces. For Courtney, if she couldn’t have being out and date Bianca as a duo deal, then she wouldn’t do it.

Danny’s face however, was so caring. To say no to him, would be difficult...not impossible though. She shook her head and forced a large grin to spread over her face, eyes brightening along with the chipper expression. She took her wine and downed the rest, leaning over and taking the bottle to refill her cup.

“I’m not ready yet, Danny. But, I’ll say it to you, and that’s enough for now.” She raised her cup in the air, biting her lip with glee and waiting. He chuckled, rolling his eyes but nevertheless holding his cup up to meet hers. “Here’s to being somewhat, maybe gay.”

“There aint no maybe with me, baby. But...I’ll take it, for now.” They clink cups and drink. 

-

A party at Johnson’s was the plan, and it was a night to ensure high spirits and drunken shenanigans. With more than enough supervision and organisation from Alix, the two had decided that since everyone was home from Christmas break they may as well wrangle everyone together and throw a small house party. 

Johnson lived in a small house with 3 other roommates, all girls, all in relationships with big, brutish footballers. There was Kayla, the half Mexican, half Italian Psychology student, who dated a boy that seemed to only have the same amount of brain cells one could count using their hands alone. She liked to be alone more often than not, but when she was around she was rather talkative and brought interesting conversation to the table, and Johnson didn’t mind when she came down in the morning in her booty shorts and crop top. Next there was Tilly, a petit, bubbly extrovert who was rather plump but adored every aspect about herself regardless what any drunk punters might tell her. She reminded them off a chubbier bubbles from Power Puff Girls. She dated a guy who was captain of the football, rugby and cricket team at his university, but was deeply ashamed to have a geek obsession with Doctor Who and the video game Dead Rising. Finally, there was Edana. She was the one Johnson got on with the most and more than often spent long nights going into the morning just talking to her. She had long red hair, all the way down to the small of her back, and freckles dusting over her nose as if they had infected her. A true celtic girl from her appearance down to the way she could hold a drink. She did language studies at the same university as Trevor and Kendra, along with her boyfriend, who played nothing but American baseball and talked about American food. Johnson wasn’t dying to date her, but he did envy that a half wit like her boyfriend ever landed someone as amazing as Edana.

It was a pleasant place to call home, especially since Alix was there more than half the time, eating Johnson’s food and making them watch Storage Hunters. He wouldn’t dare have it any other way though. He wouldn’t want to give up being in the company of his best friend for anything, because being with Alix was amazing. Johnson loved just being around him, he’d never been able to connect to someone so quickly before, and he truly felt like he could trust Alix with anything he worried about. The house felt too quiet and lonesome without him there. Even if they were both just sitting in silence, Johnson would still be grateful for merely being in his company.

As soon as Alix finishes at the clinic, he rushes home, showers, and runs to Johnson’s to set up and tell him all about it. 

“So, what will the hormones do?” Johnson asks after the extensive explanation Alix had given him about the appointment, mid way mixing a couple of drinks to make a punch. 

“Make me a man.”

“Okay, more specifically?”

“It does’t matter what they do specifically, as long as they do what they’re supposed to I’m happy!”

“Okay,” Johnson screws the lid on one of the drinks, thinking for a second, “Are they safe?”

“Yeah. I mean, you know, there’s risks and shit like with any medication, and I might have symptoms and stuff but it’s all good really.”

“Symptoms?”

Alix takes a vodka bottle and pours it into the bowl, watching the orange coloured liquid splash. “I don’t know, throwing up, headaches, mood swings- shit like that. Realx Jonny! It’s all fine in the long run.” He hands the bottle back to Johnson and smiles. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

Johnson was ecstatic for Alix if it meant him being happy finally. He was over the moon delighted at the idea of his best friend being comfortable with himself after too long wallowing in the depression of no identity, but he felt an odd sense of edge that made him nervous. He couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was apprehensive toward Alix’s transition, but there was something small deep inside him that wanted to protest against it. Was it because it was so foreign to him? A whole new world he’d never experienced or researched before, being very real in the life of his friend. It was hard to understand, but Johnson tried to focus more on the part of him that was happy. The more important part that would keep Alix happy with his decision.

“Of course bud. If this is what you want, why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Alix clicks his fingers as he walks out the room, getting his cans of beer from his backpack to put in the fridge. “True that. I’m so happy. I just want to get on with it already, you know? Agh, I feel so genuinely happy now! The happiest I’ve been in months!”

Johnson watched as Alix beamed with dreamy wonderment and pride, practically bouncing as he walked, and it made his heart flutter ever so slightly. The infectious sunny exterior brightened his own mood, he wished this moment could last forever. As Alix put the beers in the fridge, Johnson started setting up a table for beer pong, but kept watching his friend closely, with intrigue. 

Alix wasn’t feminine, he made sure to cover up any trace there may be, but...was he going to be completely unrecognisable after a few months on testosterone? Was his personality going to shift? Was everything going to change with the passing months providing more confidence in his friend? He knew he shouldn’t care so much, because none of it really effected him, but the nagging thoughts popped up every so often to irritate him. Alix was going to become more himself while simultaneously straying from himself, and Johnson didn’t know what he’d do in a few months time. 

He had never hit it off with someone so quickly like he had with Alix, and the idea he may lose him terrified him. He knew that if Alix got on with his life, happily and comfortable, Johnson could learn to be happy, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t cautious. 

Alix won’t change, he told himself repeatedly. Alix will still be Alix, just with a new body and more confidence. Alix won’t change. He can’t change.

“Shall we do a tequila shot while we wait for people to show?” Alix asks, holding up shot glasses and smirking mischievously.

Johnson sighs, falling into a worn out smile. “Definitely.”

-

Bianca couldn’t go alone. She refused to see Courtney without back up close by.

Kendra was one thing- fiery, gorgeous, and the toughest girl she’d ever had the pleasure to befriend, but she wasn’t enough in this case. She needed someone that would make Courtney green with envy. She needs to be seen basking in the joy of new romance, freshly baked in red hot kisses and smelling of animalistic sex. It’s her personalised middle finger, sugar coated in pettiness. Courtney would see Bianca happily hooked on someone else, and she’d feel the same soul crushing sensation she had.

Zara, wearing skinny low rider jeans and a Nirvana crop top, her hair glossed and silky, flowing freely down her back, and her heated daggers pierced anyone who dared to set their sights on her flawless appearance. She was elegant and desirable like a tall glass of wine, and Bianca knew that being in her company would drive Courtney insane. Harriet on the other side of Zara, her curled hair in a high ponytail, bright pink lipstick and a skirt to match. She was like a babydoll dressed by a hooker, but she wore it with such refined confidence no one could touch her. Then of course there was Kendra, arm linked with Bianca’s as they strutted toward the house.

“It was nice of you to invite us along, Bianca!” Harriet said as they approached the door, knocking. She messed around with the rim of her boob-tube, her cleavage heavy and bouncing. “I hope I’m not over dressed.”

“Oh, you are, but you look fucking amazing, babe.” Zara reassured, putting her arm around Harriet’s shoulder and kissing her on the temple. Harriet’s face lit up as her dimples professed their glee, and she started playing with her ponytail in a fuss to look utterly perfect. 

“So,” Kendra nudged Bianca, “What’s your master plan then? Make out with Zara to get back at Courtney?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Bianca scoffed. “I’m going to make out with Zara because she’s fucking hot. And, if Courtney sees, it’s just a coincidence, you know?”

Kendra gave her a concerned look, crossing her arms, but Zara shrugged, laughing. “I’m honoured to be apart of this devious plan. Bianca’s a good kisser, so what’s wrong with indulging in a little fun in the name of...you know, making someone jealous?”

Bianca cackled, shoving Zara playfully. Before Kendra could interject her disapproval again, the door opened and there stood a pleasantly drunk Alix cheering, holding a plastic cup of presumably what was beer. His hair was an erratic tousled mess and he had panda eyes where he’d smudged his eyeliner, but there wasn’t a trace of care on his face. His face was glowing, and he grabbed Bianca’s hand and dragged her in.

“You cunt, where the fuck have y’all been?!” He laughed, turning to the other three girls and giving them all tight hugs as he squealed in delight. “Come on, go to the kitchen and do a shot, you need to catch up!”

They definitely did. When they entered the scene there was about a dozen 20 something year old students lounging around, laughing obnoxiously loud or dancing out of time with the music. Danny was currently smoking a joint with some black haired goth girl while Trevor lay beside him, stroking a ginger cat that must have belonged to one of the girls that lived there. A collection of preppy girls were gathered on the sofa, giggling along with something Johnson was saying, competing between one another for his attention. Bianca walked through a scene of students playing ring of fire to get to the kitchen, and poured out four shots. 

Each girl held a glass in the air, ready to do the shot in solidarity to one another. “Let’s get fucking wasted.” Bianca announced, to which they all cheered, clinking their tiny glasses and downing the fiery drink. They all cringed as a reaction, but laughed all the same. 

“I’m doing another.” Zara said, grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring herself another shot. She waved the glass at the other three, and to her surprise they all said yes. “Nice, I like girls that can drink hard.” 

It didn’t take long for the girls to start spilling tipsy stories over one another, giggling and drinking as fast as possible despite the gagging sensation tickling the back of their throat. Harriet was sat on the kitchen counter top, swinging her legs as she laughed uncontrollably at something Kendra said, and Zara and Bianca were leaning out the back door smoking, somehow deep in a serious conversation.

“Your folks kicked you out?” Bianca said in shock, mouth wide as the other girl nodded, smiling despite the statement. 

“I mean, they took me back a week later and apologised, but yeah. My father was islamic so for him it was too much to have a lesbian for a daughter, you know? He’d been taught that homosexuality was a sin, and his first instinct was to kick me out. My mum was just afraid of going up against him, but she came to her senses as did he, and the rest is history.”

“Still.” Bianca took a drag of her cigarette, holding in the fizzling burn that festered at the pit of her lungs, and blew the smoke out above her head before finishing her thought. “That’s gotta suck.”

“Yeah, well obviously! I went to live with Harriet though so it wasn’t all bad. Her mum was really cool.” Zara tapped her cigarette against her finger, putting it back to her mouth and inhaling. “What about you?” She asked, smoke pouring from her lips. “What are you horror stories with coming out?”

“Oh, not much.” Bianca smirked, throwing her burnt out fag on the floor and crossing her arms. “Mom and dad were kind of shocked but totally cool. My brother’s gay so he pretty much softened the blow for when I came out.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. My family were totally accepting. My friends, not so much.”

Zara raised her brow. “Oh?”

Bianca pondered on the memories for a second, looking into Zara’s dark, ebullient eyes, and saw a generosity of genuine curiosity she hadn’t found before. Someone who wanted to know, so they could care and relate. “Yeah, I don’t know why exa-”

“BIANCA!” A sudden girlish squeal shattered the bound they shared. She looked round to find the voice, and there was the person who made her heart seize in a fright. Courtney, smiling vivaciously as she skipped over and threw her open arms at Bianca. She squeezed her tight, still making childish excited noises while Bianca tried to keep her balance and composure having seen the one person she’d dreaded seeing. Zara caught Bianca’s panicked eyes and gave her an annoyed look before walking away and joining Harriet. “Oh my God, Bianca, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m friends with Alix too.” She pulled out of the hug and stood back from Courtney, trying not to look too happy to see her. Courtney was positively ecstatic to see Bianca, unable to stop moving, and her smile stretched like elastic from cheek to cheek. 

Courtney felt bubbly, standing in front of Bianca after so long without seeing her. She’d missed the dimples, and her pillowy lips, and her curvy hips. She looked just as beautiful tonight as she always did, and maybe it was after her chat with Danny or it was the multiple jager bombs she’d done when walking into the house, but she felt delightfully light in her presence. She could reach forward and fly into the heavens with Bianca, hand in hand, heart to heart. 

“I really missed you, B.” Courtney admits, leaning against the door and unapologetically fluttering her heart eyes. “A lot. How was your Christmas?”

Could have been better given you called me up like a dick teasing cunt and told me some bullshit. How about we talk about the floozy you made out with that you had no shame in telling me all about, huh? 

Of course, she didn’t say any of that. Bianca gritted her teeth in protest to her thought, and shrugged. “It was okay. Yeah.” She looked over to Zara, seeing her smiling with Harriet, pushing her hair behind her ear and somehow always able to come across effortlessly free spirited, even in the most mundane moment. Bianca couldn’t help but look at her like she was a great piece of art work, needing only the upmost, focused attention, and she craved to feel the paint of her soul wet on her skin. It was a purely lustrous desire, clean of any romance or dedication, and dripping with sensuality. 

When she looked back at Courtney, she felt deep within her bones it was so much more than what she felt for Zara. She felt a pain that was as addictive as heroine, and tasted like gold, and she was completely, whole heartedly obsessed with the feeling that all she craved was relief. Courtney’s snowy face, her humble eyes, her pink lips- everything made Bianca quiver with such maddening need. It was going to kill her in the end, she knew it, like everyone else knew, but to pretend like she could stay away from her was comical.

Courtney was as present in Bianca as the oxygen in her lungs. 

“Did you have fun in Australia?” She asked, dreading the answer, regretting wasting her breath on the question. Courtney nodded enthusiastically, reaching into the fridge beside Bianca and taking out a cold cider. 

“It was pretty good,” She took the bottle cap of the counter, popping open the bottle. “I liked seeing all my friends, course they haven’t changed! My friends, Willam and Violet, decided to take me to a gay bar for New Years Eve that was like an hour away! We stayed at this totally run down motel and Violet threw up in the already disgusting pool they had, but it was so fun! I didn’t even realise I missed them so much until I saw them all, you know?”

Bianca couldn’t say she did, but nevertheless she nodded. Bianca didn’t have any friends she missed in America, or at least none she knew would be happy to see her if she went home. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Courtney smiled, taking a sip of her cider before offering Bianca a swig. She accepted, drinking more than Courtney had but remembering not to be too cheeky with her generosity. When she handed the bottle back, Courtney accidentally caught her hand, and as her finger tips grazed the bumps of Bianca’s knuckles, a singing spark ignited between them. Blazing forrest fires mercifully devoted to destroying innocence, bravely caught between the skin on skin contact they held. Courtney’s eyes lifted in time to Bianca’s, and they looked at each other like this was the first time they’d ever met; completely struck on the beat of hope, but Bianca’s with less wishful thinking. Courtney’s gorgeous eyes, like an ocean, slowly killing Bianca the same slow, painful way drowning does. 

“Sorry.” Bianca pulled her hand away, playing with her hair and avoiding eye contact. This is too hard, she thought, suddenly overwhelmed with a sickly feeling. She wanted to be around Courtney, but she couldn’t. It was too fucking hard, seeing her all smiles and no remorse. “I have to go ask Zara something.”

“Oh.” Courtney was still all smiles, looking over at the girl in question. “Yeah, of course. I’ll catch you in a bit!”

Bianca didn’t waste another second pining over her. She practically fell at Zara in her haste, catching onto her arm as she regained her balance. Zara stumbled slightly, but laughed nevertheless as she helped the girl get back on her feet, and then laughed a little more at the deer caught in head lights expression Bianca held. 

“Woah there, Bambi.” She put her arm around Bianca’s waist, pulling her close and handing her a poured out drink of vodka coke. “Get this down you, fast!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll need it. I saw how little miss perfect made your skin itch. A whole night of close calls will require a lot of liquid confidence.”

Bianca looked at the drink before downing it as fast as possible, cringing as her reflexes kicked in, and she was gagging over the strength. She scrunched her eyes as tight as possible till all she could see was stars, and everything in that moment felt infinite; the worst sickness in a single second stretching over the mirage of forever. 

Zara ran her hand up and down Bianca’s back, watching her as she cringed and collected her composure. She shakes away the shudder coming over her spine and hops from foot to foot, and Zara finds it ever so endearing. Cheeks flushed, eyes blank and shrunken, face full of new found wonderment.

“Okay, that was strong. Fuck, get me another.” Bianca demands, grinning mischievously, and Zara wastes no time in grabbing her another cup and drink. She was hoping, with a little persuasion and a lot seductive drunken dancing, she’d end up in the same situation with Bianca as she had a few days ago.

-

It wasn’t a raging house party, by any measure. Not the type that gets over thrown with rowdy teenagers and fights, but rather it’s a “gathering” in which everyone attending gets incredibly drunk in the company of good friends. There’s a few unfamiliar faces but no one outrageous, and everyone is in high spirits. 

Bianca, Kendra and Trevor take themselves upstairs to Johnson’s bedroom, as he gives Kendra a hoodie to warm up in and the other two coo over them, embracing each other dramatically and laughing as they slow dance together. Johnson and Kendra laugh along, a little more lost in each other than the mocking of their friends. Danny and Alix drag them back downstairs eventually to play a game. Everyone sits in a circle on the living room floor, and there’s an empty bottle in the middle of them all. As Bianca sits beside Zara, she’s bombarded by Courtney’s arms around her neck and then spinning to sit the other side, still wide eyed and delightfully sunny. Bianca, now significantly drunker and looser, smiled back warmly, biting her lip and batting Courtney’s ponytail playfully, making her giggle.

“Please tell me this isn’t spin the bottle.” Kendra laughs, watching as Alix sits down with his Absolute vodka and cranberry juice beside him, smirking devilishly at her. 

“Truth or dare, yeah. Don’t be a pussy about it, Kendra.”

She widened her eyes, cocking her jaw and laughing as he gave her a challenging look. “You’re on, Joker. I’ll do anything thrown my way.”

Alix snickered, grabbing the empty bottle and spinning it. “We’ll see about that.”

The glass bottle span, slightly tittering out of its spot, and soon the sound of the glass scrapping the floor came to a stop and the neck landed on Danny. He looked up at Alix and jerked his brows, clicking his tongue before cockily saying “Dare. Hit me with the worst you got.”

It started with Danny having to give someone a strip tease - “Not Trevor, that would be too easy!” - he chose Courtney, who squealed almost the whole time with her hands unsure where to stay, but Danny threw himself around without an ounce of shame. Next was Alix, in which he was dared to call someone randomly on his phone and talk dirty to them. Of course it had to end up being Sarah, the girl who was madly in love with him. Trevor is next and ops for Truth. 

“How far have you and Danny gone?”

He turns bright red and nervously answers “Uh, not very. We’ve made out, and, like, almost done stuff, but...” Danny pulls him in to his chest, kissing his temple and winking at Alix who had asked, consoling his embarrassed boyfriend. Then Kendra was dared to swap her clothes with someone, and taking the opportunity as it arose, she picked Johnson to strip off and reveal all before squeezing into her glittery purple sheet top and booty shorts. She sat in his torn skinny jeans and red flannel shirt, winking at him as he grinned devilishly toward her, letting her hair down and fall around her face.

Everyone was having a ball, laughing wildly and drinking way more than their livers could probably handle. Then the bottle landed on Courtney, and the girl Lavender, one of Johnson’s roommates friends, watched her as Courtney chewed over her two options. 

“Go on, I’ll do a dare.”

Courtney figured it would be nothing less than taking off her top and running around the neighborhood screaming, or downing a disgusting drink that would probably make her throw up. She didn’t care what it was, she was already flying away on the ride that was her ecstatic intoxicated high, awaiting her fait from the random girl she didn’t know.

“Um, okay. I dare you to...kiss, the most attractive person?”

Everyone laughed a little, looking between one another, but Courtney took the order like an instinct and every nerve ending in her body alighted as she turned to Bianca, holding the side of her face as she pressed her lips tenderly against the other girls. She could feel the tense knots in Bianca from just her lips, but she was too far gone. The world around them had gone quiet and all her senses had shut down other than the will to kiss and the need to feel it in return. 

Bianca was shocked, but she had missed this feeling like she was missing a lung. The fireworks in her head, or the melting of her veins, where every feeling became one and all she knew was to kiss. She took the back of Courtney’s head, wanting her to fall into her arms and beg for her, tell her how much she needed Bianca. Her thin lips felt so soft, and she wanted to memorise that feeling, store it away forever and never let it slip away, in fear that she’d never be granted the greatest feeling ever again. 

Courtney pulled away, staring into Bianca’s eyes. The blown up black of her chocolaty eyes, twinkling with shock, all Courtney had to do was whisper how she felt and Bianca would be putty in her hand. All she had to do was kiss her again and tell her everything she was hiding away, and there’d be no more heartache and fake smiles...

She laughed instead, falling against Bianca’s shoulder. She could feel the other girl’s body stiff with nerves, but she lay long enough to let the horror of the false pretence fall, so she could look at her again without feeling her chest hurt. Everyone started laughing around them, and soon all Bianca could do was laugh, if not to hide her real emotions but to save herself. 

Courtney pushed herself up, baring her pearly teeth at Bianca. “Of course you’re the most attractive person, B. Your sense of humour with that hair, how could anyone resist?”

Bianca nodded shyly, turning away as fast as possible to grab her drink and sipped it, facing Zara. There, the only face in the room not amused at all but more irritated if anything, glaring at Courtney before meeting Bianca’s eyes and letting her expression fade into something resembling pity. 

“Well,” Alix looked around before stumbling to his feet, “this feels like a perfect time for tequila shots.”

Everyone cheered and stood up, apart from Bianca. She found herself slowing down as time sped past, feeling like she could physically feel the seconds cut up her skin and infect her blood. She hated this feeling, the pining for a girl who either was ridiculously naive or playing the game of beating her heart to a pulp, because which ever result it was ended the same way. Bianca alone, frustrated, and overly emotional. She sat in the middle of the room, eyes glued to the spot of dust under the sofa, and threatened herself to keep it together, for the sake of her sanity and reputation.

Not now, Del Rio. You didn’t let Jinxy get to you, you didn’t let Vivianne break you, so you won’t let Courtney hurt you either. Keep it together. This is just life. Growing up, sweat the small stuff and move on. You’re going to get up, get a drink, and pretend you’re not-

“Bianca.” A soft call shook her out of her state, and Bianca’s head whipped round to face the delicate features of Harriet, smiling and holding a glass of clear liquid. “Here, I got you some water. You look kind of sick?”

“Oh, jeeze, I’m fine.” She staggered to her feet, leaning on Harriet for support. “That’s nice of you though.”

Harriet shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to throw up.” She clears her throat, looking around awkwardly before continuing. “You know, I don’t want to meddle, but I think Zara really likes you.”

Bianca’s throat went dry, eyes shooting open. “Really? I mean, that’s cool. She’s a cool chick.”

Harriet nibbled her bottom lip, looking behind herself to see Zara talking to Kendra and Trevor. “Yeah. But uh, I hope it’s okay to ask...but, you uh, you’re not into her, are you?”

“Well, I like her. I do, I...I really love her company-”

“But you’re in love with Courtney?”

Bianca stood still as the words shot her spine like lightening. The stutters of her mind seemed stuck on her tongue, tying her words around each other. “No, I don’t love her.” She ground down on her teeth, sighing as the pressure clung to her chest. “It’s complicated. But trust, me and her, are never going to happen.” She honestly believed it, despite how much it hurt to admit. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No, Harriet. It’s fine. You’re just looking out for your friend.” Bianca rubs her arm affectionately, smiling thankfully. “I like Zara, I do. I wouldn’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think either of us are looking for anything serious.”

Harriet tilts her head, humming. “All I’ll say is I’ve never seen her put in this much effort for someone. Zara usually gets in, gets out. But you...” Harriet, shrugs, “it’s food for thought, is all. I’m sorry.”

Bianca nods, a little dizzy from the whiplash of emotions. “No, it’s okay.” Before she could say anymore, Zara bounces over with Kendra and Trevor, handing Bianca another drink and teasing Harriet for insinuating anyone needed water. 

Everyone resumes their normal mood, dancing and laughing like 20 something year olds are programmed to do, but Bianca doesn’t feel the same. She’s suddenly overwhelmed by all the scattered fragments that might make up coherent thoughts, and she can’t seem to focus her attention on anything other than what her heart is trying to convey to her mind.

She blinks rapidly, about to walk out the room for some space and maybe fresh air, when suddenly she’s spun back into the action and as if sent by God himself to further send her in a spiral of confusion, it’s Courtney. The blonde bombshell dancing seductively, innocently, just wanting Bianca’s attention and devotion in this drunken moment. Bianca is able to muster up a smile, swaying her hips to the beat and keep Courtney content for the moment that is killing her slowly. This girl, face pale and shimmering in the glow of no cares, with her lips still a little swollen from their kiss, unintentionally mocking Bianca’s feelings with her lack of understanding. 

Then Courtney turns around and presses her body close to Bianca’s, holding her hair over her shoulder and moving in time with the music and her lustful wonders. It was unexpected, and as dramatic as it was, it felt deadly to the intoxicated self that was Bianca’s unrequited soul.

Bianca watched with wide eyes, feeling the literal hearts form in her pupils as the girl of her hottest desires pushed against her front, bending down and wiggling her bum against Bianca. Courtney giggled, with flushed innocence as the music took her away, but Bianca’s blood rushed feverishly through her veins as she felt her body hit by a heat wave.

She wanted to grab her by the hips and dance to the rhythm of Courtney’s body, but it was too risky. She knew her instincts, she knew her feelings, and she knew how far she’d take it. This wasn’t just some random girl who’d had too much to drink- this was Courtney, naively playing a dangerous game that everyone was well aware off. Bianca shuffled backward, still dancing and laughing to keep a cool attitude, then when Courtney sprung up straight, throwing her hair back, she took the girls hand and laughed harder.

“You need water, bitch. You’re totally wasted!”

“Of course.” Courtney pulled Bianca in, holding her secure by the small of her back as her eyes fell to her lips. “Aren’t we all?”

Bianca never felt so sober in her life. Her heart racing like a cheetah as she tried to maintain herself. Courtney’s bubble eyes growing close to popping, Bianca seemed to always fall into the perpetual pining of her desires that Courtney seemed to toy with too much. Was she really so naive she had blocked out everything from before? Their first, wild kiss in the dark of the club, or the sensual touches in her bed, or every longing gaze they both pretended meant nothing? Here she was, with Courtney unintentionally ogling her cleavage, and despite what her pained needs craved, she wanted nothing more than to be out of the situation. She couldn’t keep dealing with her emotions flailing around like a rag doll.

Before anything further could happen, Kendra jumped in and linked her arm with Bianca’s, and Danny wrapped his arms around Courtney’s waist, separating the two girls. Courtney was none the wiser, twirling around Danny still giggling. Bianca however was confused, detangling from Kendra when they got to the kitchen.

“You need something?” She asked, a slight laugh in her tone as she stared at her quizzically. Kendra crossed her arms, shaking her head.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Del Rio, and you know it.”

“Hay, I wasn’t doing anything. She was all over me! I was trying to get away!” Kendra cocked her brow, unbelieving. Bianca scoffed. “I was!”

“Alright. What the hell is she doing then? Why is she all over you like a hot rash?”

“I haven’t a fucking clue. I mean, I guess we’re usually kind of flirty-”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“But I don’t know, last time she was like this was when we were drunk. Maybe it’s a drinking thing.” Bianca shrugged, turning to the kitchen counter and pouring herself another drink. “This isn’t easy, you know, resisting that bitchy tease.”

“For someone so fond of her, you sure do like to pick insulting nicknames.”

Bianca smirked, sipping her drink. She looked out into the living room and there was Courtney, now with her arms around both Danny and Alix as she sang obnoxiously. Bianca huffed. “What am I supposed to do, Kendra? We’re friends, I like her, both as a friend and as more. I can’t ignore her.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bianca.”

Bianca rolled her eyes, shoving Kendra playfully. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy. I’m fine. You know me, I’m like a cat, I always land on my feet and I’ve got like nine lives!”

“Yeah? Well you’re running out, Catwoman. Courtney’s going to break your heart if you’re not careful.” Kendra warned, giving Bianca a knowing look before walking out the room.

Bianca took a deep breath, before letting out a loud grunt of frustration, and slapped her forehead repeatedly. She wished Kendra wasn’t right, just once she wished she could laugh in her face and strut about victorious. 

This time, Bianca practically ran through the living room and up the stairs, letting out a relieved sigh when she found Johnson’s bedroom and the door was shut off from the rest of civilisation downstairs. She stood with her back pressed against the door for a few seconds, before falling to the man’s bed and letting her stress leave her body.

Recap: Bianca was undeniably, shamefully obsessed with Courtney and doing everything in her will power to forget the fact she wanted her so bad, while Courtney was denying there was ever anything between them all the while shamelessly teasing her like there was a chance. Then there was Zara, a totally sexy tattooist who was too cool for words and too punk to function, that for some unknown reason was really into Bianca, and they had hooked up drunkenly at a party that no one knew about. 

“Fuck.” Bianca cursed, her hands covering her face as the facts began to pour down upon her like lashing rain. She threw her arms either side her. They smacked the mattress harder than expected, the weight lost in the fog of too much alcohol, and Bianca was left with the heaviness in her wrists splitting open her veins.

She felt vulnerable, and for Bianca, that was the worst imaginable scenario. It had become all too familiar lately, and she was growing tired of welcoming it with open arms. She was fed up of thinking about how nice it felt to kiss Courtney. She was fed up of thinking about how her heart skipped a beat with every hello they exchanged. She was fed up of waiting around for the confused girl who was never going to give in to how she felt. Bianca had gone through those awkward years of being unsure, she didn’t want to add on more just for the sake of it.

So, what was it she wanted? On an obvious level, it was Courtney. There was no point ignoring the elephant of her thoughts, but that elephant’s gold was peeling off to reveal a snake. The other side had an open door with Zara holding the door, freeing and available, and that idea was somewhat of a comfort. 

Courtney had lied to her too. She had been with a girl- or, she had history with a girl, a stranger in Bianca’s world. When they met at Roobux, when all the complications began, Courtney had lied and told her she had no interest in women. Bianca had been tortured herself with the humiliation of falling for a straight girl, when maybe she hadn’t. Zara had never lied. Zara was a lesbian, and she’d taken care of Bianca when she needed her most; so why was it all so complicated even in theory?

The colours of Johnson’s room became blurred, with the lines intertwining and becoming merely another dull inevitable, closing Bianca’s lines of communication with peace and frustration. She was left in the silence, with just her heartbeat to comfort her, unsuccessfully. 

“H-hay Bianca?” A mousey voice crept through, breaking Bianca’s aura. She sat up and saw Courtney, timidly entering the room and staying stuck with her back to the door. Bianca resisted the urge to groan in annoyance.

“What’s up, blondie?”

Something had switched dramatically since a few minutes ago. The outrageous kid that was living in her prime, was now hunched in on herself, nervously avoiding any eye contact. Bianca quizzically watched how Courtney shyly sat on the edge of the bed, looking as if she might throw up.

“I need to say that I’m sorry.” She stopped, finally looking up to meet Bianca’s eyes and taking a deep breath. “I am so sorry for what I did over Christmas. Calling you and interrupting your good time.”

“What?” Bianca laughed. “It’s not a problem-”

“No, it is. I can’t avoid it. I won’t do that to you again, because last time it almost killed me to avoid you.” Courtney tucked her bottom lip in-between her teeth and took another deep breath, as if she was constantly on the verge of running dry. Bianca was suddenly struck with a gloomy ambience, feeling her heart be squeezed by the presence of Courtney, visibly distressed, because of her.

“I don’t understand where this is all coming from, Court. You were fine 5 minutes ago-”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m here now, telling you I’m sorry. I need you to know, Adore doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Bianca’s face fell, deadpan. She didn’t speak, she just sat silent, listening.

“She use to mean so much to me, yes. I still care about her deeply and I want to make up for all the shit I did to her some day, but...I don’t like her anymore, not like that...not romantically.” Courtney stuttered, sniffing back the tears that were slowly creeping though. Bianca moved her hand to rest on Courtney’s knee, but her face didn’t even twitch.

“Courtney...”

“I’ve probably fucked you off too many times, and you keep forgiving me for some unknown reason. I...I don’t mean to be such a disaster. But, the thing is Bianca. I...” She looked deep into Bianca’s eyes, and everything she wanted to say suddenly dissolved; she was drunk on the diluted colours of Bianca’s dark glimmering eye. Bianca stared back just as hard, awaiting the words she knew would never come. She held onto the speck of hope like it would revive her after death, and took the life from Courtney’s open mouth. What was happening? Why was Courtney saying any of this? The two sat in the quiet, gazing upon the lost ambition of what they both kept hidden from the light of day.

Courtney swallowed, a tear finally falling down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or ruin your Christmas or-”

“Hay,” Bianca finally smiled warmly, holding Courtney’s cheeks and brushing away the rogue tear. “Please don’t apologise for that. It wasn’t a problem, really. You were probably still a little drunk and just, telling your friend the shit that went down. We’ve all been there.” She lied, hoping her smile was convincing enough to denying that hearing about Courtney kiss another girl didn’t break her heart a little. “You’re such a messy drunk, blondie. Look at you,” Bianca sat back, chucking, “how many times have I had to console you after a few too many drinks, huh?”

Courtney sniffed, snickering lightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no more tears, for fuck sake. No more sorry’s either, okay? You’re just being emotional because your drunk. I’m not mad at you for anything.”

Courtney sighed, knowing Bianca was lying, but nodded nevertheless. She wasn’t going to win this, and she was fine with it. As long as Bianca knew she meant no harm. “You mean so much to me, you know that?” Courtney told her, as the corner of her lip finally lifted. “If I ever piss you off, just tell me, okay?”

Bianca knew she couldn’t keep that promise. She knew that this charade was going to continue for a long time, despite what they both wanted: peace. How was she supposed to tell Courtney she was annoyed at her for kissing another girl when they were both so adamant on pretending everything was completely fine between them? She couldn’t muster up the strength to tear her apart, tell her how much it pained her not to kiss her, because to go through the days without Courtney was a life she didn’t want. She wanted to feel the agonising twisting in her gut if it meant she got to just talk to Courtney. She was caught in a catch 22, but sometimes that’s just life.

Bianca had been through the waves of distress, she could do it again.

“Of course. Come here.” She took Courtney in for a hug and all the agony sprang to life in a single second, taking every nerve in her body like a prisoner. She held on Courtney with everything she had, remembering the smell of her perfume, the feel of her skin, hoping it would all sink into her bones and she’d have her apart of her forever. Courtney is so soft, Bianca thought, burying her face in her shoulder and letting the moment overwhelm her own drunken emotions. 

Courtney wanted to tell Bianca everything, but she couldn’t. All she could do was hold her, and hope the fire would die out soon.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

“Okay...sorry.”

Bianca laughed. That’s all she could do anymore, otherwise she might go insane. Keep laughing and the world keeps turning.

[liam--molina]

Change | Self-Para

“Honey, I’m home! And I come bearing gifts!” Devon laughed softly to himself as he walked inside of the small apartment that had quickly become where he was spending most of his weekends. The drive to Chicago was starting to be part of the way he relaxed and let go of everything from the week. After the fight with Blythe, the half fight with Serena and knowing that it was Mini’s birthday, he figured it would be best for him to be away. 

Devon dropped his duffel bag of clothes by the door, smiling as he walked to the bedroom to find Elena asleep, the place a bit of a mess as he took it in and let out a low whistle. After kissing her cheek he moved back into the apartment and started to clean up, picking wrappers and beet bottles of the floor, doing as much as he could without waking her up. Despite what people thought, Devon liked to keep things clean. If anyone walked into Luka and Devon’s apartment, it was always clean. There was rarely anything on the floor, the dishes were washed as soon as they were used. They took pride in having a real place to call home and did everything they could to take care of it. 

After an hour, he heard her getting up and put on his best smile as he stood in the doorway to her bedroom. “You know, tis is some real shit. I stuck around after I found out you were asleep. I at least get two extra peeks at your ass for that.”

He smiled as she did, sitting on the edge of the bed as she finally sat up and woke up, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down to lie next to her. “You’re so sweet, how will I ever repay you?” He mumbled something about having a few ideas before she kissed him and he melted into the kiss a she felt his stress roll off of his shoulders. Elena had been a chance meeting, some girl he had met on his way out of a party. He had stopped to talk to her, gotten her number and the next time they hung out they had gotten high and hooked up in his car. He had kept her number in his phone for a long time before hitting her up again; finding solace in her invites for him to spend the weekend in the city with her. It was easy with her. There was no pressure, she never asked him about other girls, she never got on him if he didn’t text back, never seemed to care for more than just his company and the drugs he brought with him. Simple. Exactly what he liked.

After a moment she pulled away to look at him, rubbing his cheek with her thumb as she stopped him from leaning in to kiss her neck. “I have to talk to you about something. And I need you to stay calm, okay?” 

Devon immediately tensed up, feeling her hands move to squeeze his arms in order to make him stay. “Alright, what’s up?”

She took a moment, sighing as she sat up a bit, moving to straddle his lap to ensure that he wouldn’t run away. “Devon, you know last time...we forgot to use a condom last time, Devon. And I took a test this morning....I’m pregnant. And before you ask, yes, it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else for almost a month.”

Pregnant. The word hung in the air as if it was sucking the breath from his body. He moved to get up before remembering she was on top of him and he lay back, staying quiet as he processed her words. “Pregnant,” he finally said and shook his head as he sighed. “Shit, El, what...what do you want to do?” It was a lot for him to take in. On one hand, the last thing he wanted right now was to have to be attached to someone in that way, to have to raise a baby  and put his life on hold. On the other, he had promised himself since he was younger that if he had kids then he would be the father to them that he never had. 

“I want to keep it, Devon. And you don’t have to be around, I’m not gonna force that on you. But I’m gonna keep this baby. I just need you to know that.”

He nodded as he looked at her, not even able to get angry. He wouldn’t be able to get rid of it if he was her. Sure he knew that people did it and he didn’t think that was any of his business but this was his kid and even though it would be a mess, it would be their mess. “Alright, then we’ll keep it. I mean look...Elena I can’t be your man like that, alright? You know that, I know that. But I’ll be a father. Fuck, I’ll be the best damn father you’ve ever seen. Our kid is gonna be decked out. I’m talking Jordans from the jump. You ever seen baby jordans, they’re cute as fuck.”

He watched as the relief came over her face, obviously having expected typical over dramatic Devon behavior. But this was different. Having a kid, raising a kid, that was something Devon wanted no matter what point of his life it was. He was young but he wasn’t going to let any kid of his suffer the way he had. “Alright, then we gotta get right babe. No more bullshitting.” He got up from under her and went to the kitchen, looking back as she followed and he grabbed the bag of drugs he had brought and went to the bathroom to pour some of them out, mostly for the show of it all. “No more of this shit, okay? I’m not gonna bring it, you’re not gonna get it from anywhere. We’re gonna get right for this kid. I’m gonna drink but I won’t smoke in the house. We’re gonna do this right, Elena, okay? I don’t want this kid growing up like me. I don’t want them to ever think they ain’t loved, not a Molina, not my kid.”

He looked over at her smiling and shook his head. “What?” She laughed and shrugged  as she leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. “Nothing, this just wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t expect you to be so calm. I’ve seen you take out guys just for looking at my ass and I tell you I’m pregnant and you’re suddenly the picture of a perfect father? I’m just finding this shit really hard to believe it.”

“Look, I’m a lot of things but I’m not a pussy and only a pussy ass bitch would turn away a girl who’s pregnant with his kid. That’s our kid, Elena, regardless of how it happened, it’s ours. Is it how I thought about it happening, no? But it’s happening and you want to keep it so we’re going to and we’re going to take care of this kids. We’re gonna make sure it’s loved and cared for and never has to grow up like I did, okay? We aint’ gonna dip when it gets hard, we’re gonna learn. You and me, we got this. We’re gonna be the coolest fucking parents. I promise. I’m gonna take care of both of you, alright? No tienes que preocuparte, I got you.”

He meant it, too. Even if internally he was slightly freaking out and wondering how he was going to tell Luka, he felt secure in his decision. He was going to be a father and he’d be damned if he was going to be a bad one.