#be naked be happy. don’t eat that damn apple.

[aquarri]

my favorite

[ericleo108]

06/30/2023 Click here for Spotify, Apple Music, or Youtube. “Freaky Naughty” is my 50th official release. This song is party music. The song was self-recorded but mixed and mastered by Keyano. The beat is by Tantu and the cover art is made by xoxodesigns from fiverr.

This was a track from the 108 album era in 2021. Just like with “god damn” and “we make the party” I talk about global warming because I promised myself I would talk about the subject in my party music to raise awareness. And because my specialty is edutainment I basically have three things I talk about most if I’m not on a special subject matter for the song. Especially for edutainment, I talk about global warming, American inequality, and expanding upon the meaning of 108. Because my song “Atheist Raps” is currently my best-performing song on Spotify, future lyrics will also consistently talk about atheism which also ties back into the 108 stuff.

This is one of the first party songs I did as Eric Leo 108. I don’t know why but for the longest time I didn’t think it was good enough, which is why it isn’t in the 108 album. I left it. I only decided to get it produced when I found I could get it produced for cheap. It’s based off an old demo and is one of those songs that I want in my catalog but I don’t know if it will be popular. 

The next release “With You” is my last tracked released weekly. Due to budget constraints and wanting to promote established material, I will only be releasing twice a month instead of every week for at least a month. I started releasing once a week to build momentum on social media and the like and it hasn’t really worked. 

The reason I’m not more strict on releasing once a week is because it doesn’t matter. You can check the follower numbers in the description of each YouTube long form sunday update. But just to put it in perspective, releasing once a week and a Word of the day rhyme everyday for almost exactly 4 months has gotten me: 8 followers on twitter, 138 followers on TikTok, 45 on instagram, 51 on YouTube, 14 on Spotify, and lost 17 on soundcloud. You tell me if the effort is worth it

You can see me talk about this blog post from last Sunday’s Update here:

Lyrics:

I got that hip and insipid God-given ridiculous flow

Take a listen my written rhythm a system to know

That love ain’t cute, love ain’t sweet

Most play it like a game where losers weep

I’m just like a squirrel, Try’na get a nut. 

So I run up on my love and hug her on the butt 

Come through style’n, shine’n, wil’n

Feel’n so fly, like Gambino Childish

Where’d you get this shit at? You’re uncle he knows

He grows it, he showed me, let’s get cozy and stoned

We’ll hibernate and find our nature among bears 

We’ll eat a bunch of mushrooms, act weird, and just stare

We’ll come back to reality when we find ourselves

Where we won’t find our thoughts are too bizarre to help 

Had an introspective journey of self-love and respect 

Took too much, ate a bunch, and just slept

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Come on, let’s rally, take another tally 

Go big like the finale, get naked like it Cali 

If you don’t got looks, go with personality

Don’t have personality, be happy with not mattering

Everything in moderation like the ancient Greeks 

What you got for logic, come on think don’t be sheep

Don’t know if the glass half full or not

But The sun half-whole on the equinox 

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

This is for those who like to drink responsibly 

Think about plot’n things, triangle their isosceles

Throw another up after metabolizing probably  

Possibly a consumer commodity

Cogs in the economy with smog for the ecology

Global warming leaves more carbon to feed 

The problem is a lack of carbon vacuums such as trees

Forget about the facts, get the cash, run the track

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Day 365, how you measure a year

In degrees that a circle, sphere 

Proof god loves us is in beer

This one’s for you, here, cheers

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted

[sugarcherriess]

🧸 15:09

Warnings - Begging, mentions of cunnilingus, suggestive at best.

Event Masterlist

Dizzy.

Hyunjae feels dizzy.

He feels dizzy in the confinement of your shared living room, next to the fireplace. The orange glow illuminates his dewy face and the buldge of his cock from under his expensive Armani suit.

Head buzzing with need, desire seeping through his pores, arousal blaring through his body louder than the intensity of a thousand suns.

His knees hurt from kneeling on the carpet for so long. But you’re stubborn. And you’re naked.

And he can’t look away from your inviting pussy.

From the meticulous way you’re sitting on the sofa with your legs wide open he has clear view of your glistening cunt.

And he wants a taste so so bad.

He’d be fine with with just one fat lick between your lips at this point.

I mean it won’t be ideal but at least he won’t be left yearning, is what he tells himself.

“Baby please,”

He’s been at it for the past hour, begging to have his face shoved between your thighs. But you always say the

Same.

Damn.

Thing.

“No.”

His cock is painfully throbbing in his pants and his entire collar is soaking up beads of sweat falling down his face. The weather outside has been in the negatives all week and yet his arousal is burning him from the inside out.

“Just once, please, I promise I’ll make you cum,” he whines unashamedly

“I know you will. I just don’t wanna let you do it,”

You’re thoroughly enjoying Hyunjae whimpering like a dog to eat you out. He doesn’t have it for one day and he’s reduced to a whiny slobbering mess.

But then he also hates when you call it pussy withdrawls when that’s exactly what this is.

“Just because it’s true doesnt mean you have to word it like that,”

Two of your digits slyly slip their way inside your hot mouth. You tongue at them, thoroughly covering them in your spit. You even take them out and lick at them like a popsicle to further taunt Hyunjae.

The man before your feet gasps at that.

The lubricated fingers travel their sick way down to your center– Hyunjae eyeing their every twist and turn. Languidly spreading your folds apart, you prod at your clit with wet fingers. Content sighs escape your lips every now and then. And Hyunjae is left to watch.

This is his punishment for being too greedy. You’ve noticed that your cunt is in his mouth more often than you drink water which is a feat on its own. But it also hinders you doing normal human shit. You know, like walking without Hyunjae’s head stuck to your cunt.

He bites his lip when you push a finger into your dribbling hole, adams apple bobbing as his eyes follow the movement of your appendage.

Hyunjae can’t believe he’s jealous of a finger.

“You really want it that bad?” you eye him curiously.

He looks like he’s experiencing a hot flash

“Yes,” his answer is firm and immediate.

“Do I really taste that good?”

“Yes,” this once a dragged out whimper.

“You really enjoy sucking on my clit so much that you’re practically humping the floor fully clothed?”

A choked moan slips into the space between you and him and you wouldn’t be surprised to pull away his waistband see his release staining his underwear.

“Yes,”

“It’s all yours then baby,”

With that Hyunjae shamefully crawls his way over to you. He gets a single lick in right against your leaking entrance, a drop of your fluid slipping on his tongue. But before he could settle comfortably between your legs, your foot is coming up and settling in the middle of his chest. You push Hyunjae back with it and he slightly stumbles, catching himself in the final moment.

“On one condition though,”

Hyunjae is oozing desperation by now. To coerce your approval he’s quick to wrap his hand around your delicate ankle, kissing the skin all the way up to your knee,

“Anything. Anything for you,”

Your ego flies off the handles once more at the lust overtaking his eyes like a parasite.

“Don’t waste a single drop.”

A/N - this has been in my prompts for ages. You can’t believe how happy i am to get it out

Taglist - @chewryy @parkhonnie @from-xero @maybeifyoutrieddd @renjun-holic @heednpy @ilovechanhee @asmigirme @Woowooju

[theladyofdeath]

Engagement Pie {Elriel}

Naked Texts & Pie #5

Warning: nsfw. 18+. Dom/sub.

Written alongside @snelbz . Thank you for reading this awfully dirty mini-series that was just meant to be a drabble. (;

Azriel was about to have a panic attack.

Inside of his mind was not a pretty place to be, not that it lacked ideas of flowers and baked goods, but because it was a complete and utter mess.

All day, while Elain was gone, he had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, unaware if he was doing everything right but sure hoping he was.

He was hoping it would be perfect.

He glanced at the clock.

He had about half an hour until she got home.

At this point, Azriel and Elain had been dating for a little over a year, and living with each other for nearly six months. Since Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, they knew, without a doubt, that they were meant to be together.

Then again, they had always known, just had never confessed it.

Their families had been less surprised by their sudden relationship and more surprised by the state they returned to the wedding reception in, but neither of them could find it in themselves to care. They were happy, blissfully, wonderful happy and in love.

Azriel opened the oven for the hundredth time, peeking inside to make sure things were still going smoothly. The pie was still there, it hadn’t run away, but it still didn’t have that beautiful golden brown crust that Elain’s always did. Sure, he could text her, ask what exactly he had done wrong, but that would ruin the surprise. He’d done his best to keep everything a secret so far. He wouldn’t ruin it now by texting her a question he could easily ask Google.

After doing so, it looked like he had done everything right, so he let it cook longer, forcing him to wait longer in anxious anticipation.

Azriel paced back and forth, fully aware that he had everything in place. He just needed the damn pie to hurry up and get done.

Elain would be home in twenty minutes, and Azriel needed to be in place when she walked through the door.

At ten until six, Azriel looked in the oven once more. It looked a little bit better, but not as done as he wanted it to be.

He’d wait until the last possible second. It wasn’t ideal, as there were other parts of his plan that required that pie to be done and, preferably, not piping hot, but he’d make do.

So he continued to pace in the kitchen until he heard the garage door rising, signaling Elain’s arrival home.

Hurrying to the oven, he threw the door open and pulled the pie out. The second it was exposed to the natural light of the kitchen, and not the watery bulb of the oven, he knew he fucked up.

It had bypassed golden brown and gone straight to brown, but thanks to the lighting in the oven, he couldn’t tell. He swore under his breath as he laid a towel on top of the washer and set the pie on top of it, letting it cool.

He’d ordered take out from Elain’s favorite restaurant, which had been delivered just a few minutes before, so thankfully even he couldn’t mess up dinner.

Right at six, he could hear Elain’s feet climbing the wooden steps to the front porch and he quickly sat at the kitchen table and popped open a bottle of wine, filling the two glasses.

When Elain entered, her purse on one shoulder, her keys in her hand, she stopped and a slow smile spread across her lips at the display.

“Wine and Rita’s?” she asked, setting her belongings down on the counter. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Azriel smiled as he set the wine bottle down in the middle of the table. “Nothing special. You’ve just been working so hard that I wanted you to have a relaxing night with your favorite food.”

Her smile widened as she sat across from him, but then she stilled for a moment. “Do I smell…pie?”

“No,” Azriel said, then quickly changed his mind. “Yes. It was a candle.”

She blinked once, twice and said, “Huh. I didn’t know we had an apple pie candle.”

She let it drop after that, filling Azriel in on her day. It had been uneventful, a change from her usual hectic schedule, and she was grateful for that. The past month or so, she would come home, scarf something quick and easy down for dinner, and collapse in bed, ready to do it all again the next day. Tonight, she actually had some pep in her step.

“Dinner, wine,” Elain mused, running a finger over the back of Azriel’s hand. “Did you have anything else in mind tonight?”

One of her eyebrows was raised slightly and he knew exactly what she was referring to, which yes, he absolutely did, but first, he had something else he needed to do.

“Actually, yes,” he said, standing. He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Her other eyebrow had raised to match, clearly showing her surprise. “Okay.”

He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he held a pie in his hands, dark brown crust and all. It also had a massive “X” cut into the direct center. It didn’t look like a venting hole.

Covering the bottom half of her face with both of her hands, Elain tried to stop the giggles from bubbling from her lips, but she couldn’t. “I knew I smelled pie,” she said, still laughing.

“I sort of burnt it,” he admitted, setting it down in front of her.

“I see that,” she chuckled, leaning forward to kiss him. “I’m sure it will still be delicious.”

He was about to say something when she asked, “But what is that?” gesturing to the center of the pie.

“That….” Azriel started to say something, but wasn’t sure what. All he knew is that he was a nervous mess and not a lot currently made sense. “X marks the spot.”

Elain blinked. “What?”

“X marks the spot.”

She blinked, again. “I don’t follow.”

Azriel sighed. “Pirates… When they bury treasure… X marks the spot.”

Elain’s head fell to the side. “Babe, are you drunk? Are you high? Are you alright? You’re not-.”

Azriel sighed, and reached into the pie. His hand broke the crust, and Elain was so surprised by the gesture that she jumped, and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Az, what are you doing?”

His hand came back up a minute later, covered in apple filling. “You know, I had a whole, romantic thing planned out with the pie. Pie is our thing, and it was going to be cute as hell-.” His words fell off as he opened his hand, revealing a beautiful pear-shaped diamond on a thin, rose gold band.

Elain stared, her mind taking a second to process what she was looking at. He picked up one of the napkins from their dinner and wiped the ring off, as well as his hand, before dropping to one knee from the chair he was sitting in. With his clean hand, he took hers in his. He prayed she couldn’t feel it shaking as badly as he thought it was.

“I know we haven’t been together long, El, but I love you so much. You’re my entire world and my best friend. I can’t—.”

Elain’s lips crashed into his and they went tumbling to the kitchen floor. She pulled back, just enough to see his face and breathed, “Yes.”

Chuckling, Azriel said, “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, kissing him again. “My answer is yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

He sat up and Elain crawled off his lap, sitting next to him on the kitchen floor. He took her hand in his again. “Let me at least ask the important part, yeah?”

She was grinning like a fool, but she nodded, waiting for him to go on.

Resting the ring against the tip of her finger, Azriel asked, “Elain, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Yes. Yes! Of course, I will.”

He slid the ring onto her finger with shaky fingers before her mouth was crashing into his, once again.

Azriel wanted to ask that question for so long, and now that he had, not at all the way he had planned, it didn’t even seem like it had happened.

Yet, as she flung her arms around his neck, everything seemed completely and perfectly right.

Elain leaned back and peered at the ring. It was magnificent, lovely, perfect.

She slowly looked at Azriel. “You….hid it in the pie?”

He cringed, but laughed softly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Her eyes went wide and she glanced at the ring again. “You didn’t bake it with the ring in there, did you?”

“No, of course not,” he chuckled, pulling her back into his lap.

She went willingly, straddling his hips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Okay, good. The pie would have been inedible then.”

“I think it’s inedible now,” he scoffed, his hands gripping her hips, while his lips found her neck.

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” she said, her voice going high and breathy.

“There’s something else I’d rather eat instead,” he replied, tilting her face down to meet his as his lips crashed into hers.

Elain hummed against his mouth as she fell into the kiss. After the millions of kisses that they had shared and the constant lovemaking that had come along with being helplessly, madly in love, Azriel never grew tired of being intimate with Elain.

In fact, he couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he was with Elain, he just wanted it more and more. He couldn’t grow tired of it, ever - it was impossible.

His hands swept up her back and tangled into her hair, and she cupped Azriel’s face in her hands.

He could feel the cool metal of her ring against his cheek.

Azriel rose, taking Elain with him, and laid her down on top of the table. Her head fell right next to the pie. She couldn’t help but glance over at it.

She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Something funny?” He asked, ducking away, trailing his nose down her neck as his lips found her collarbone.

“No.” It came out as more of a breathy moan than the sigh she was meaning it to be.

“Really?” His hands gripped her wrists, unwrapping them from around him, and he pinned them above her head with one hand. “That little laugh would suggest otherwise.”

His free hand began undoing the buttons on her shirt one by one, and Elain was practically vibrating beneath him by the time he was pushing her shirt to either side of her body.

Her bra was made of nothing but lace, and he could see her pebbled nipple through the fabric. He toyed with the idea of taking it off, but his lips closed over it, the rough lace scratching against the sensitive skin. She whimpered softly, her back arching off the table to better accommodate his mouth, and when he tugged on her nipple with his teeth, the whimper became a moan.

Gazing up at her, he said, “Is anything funny now?”

Elain sucked in her bottom lip as she slowly shook her head. “No.” Azriel raised a brow. “No, what?”

Elain couldn’t help her spreading grin as pure excitement radiated throughout her body. “No, sir.”

Azriel smirked in return as he gave her his first order. “Stay still.”

“And if I move?” she asked, quietly. Since their first time, Elain learned that she liked to test her boundaries.

Azriel liked it, too - when she was naughty.

“Then I’ll stop,” he said, and slowly let go of her wrists before putting his fingers in the band of her black skirt and yanking it off. “And you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

She shook her head, watching everything he did, biting her lip. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table to hold herself in place. As he dragged her panties down, as slowly as he could, she wanted to reach out and touch him. She was nearly naked, while he was still completely clothed, but she figured that was exactly how he wanted her.

It typically was.

He was quite the tease, but Elain secretly enjoyed that fact.

Azriel took a step back from where she lay and crossed his arms as his eyes swept across her body, taking in every beautiful inch.

In response, Elain spread her legs wide for him.

Azriel took in a deep breath and nearly growled.

He loved the sight of her, longed for it, thrived on it. It made him weak in the knees, still, and he was certain it always would.

“I am amazed,” Azriel breathed, “by your beauty.”

His comment only made her spread her legs wider.

He smirked. “What do you want, sweet girl?” He trailed a finger up the inside of her thigh, getting so close to where she needed him, but not quite.

“You,” she sighed, but it sounded more like a gasp.

“I know that,” he drawled. “Be more specific.”

“Your mouth on me, please,” she replied, gripping the edge of the table harder.

Azriel smirked again as he gently brushed his thumb over her entrance and then circled her clit once. “You’re saying you want me to eat your pie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at her face.

“Yes, sir, please.” The words were breathy and quiet and he was fairly sure she was already trembling.

Azriel fell to his knees as Elain’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. It was the anticipation, the want, the need…

The second his tongue swept between her slick folds, Elain was already on edge.

Azriel had that effect on her.

Those hands that gripped the edge of the table tightened, and Elain’s eyes fluttered shut.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He had the first time, and he sure as hell did now as he took his clit between his lips and sucked, gently.

“Az,” she breathed, fully aware that when she said his name, it sent him wild.

He took her ass into his hands and pulled her closer to him.

She could never last long when his mouth was on her. The things he could do with his tongue made her see stars and she knew this time wasn’t going to be the exception. Azriel knew it, too.

He flicked his tongue over her clit and pushed a finger inside of her. “Are you close already, Lainey?”

She nodded, feeling his breath on her sex.

A second finger joined the first, and he curled them upward. “I couldn’t hear you. I said, are you close?”

“Yes, sir, I’m so close,” she panted.

Her arms were straining and he swore he heard the wood groan beneath her hands as she struggled to keep them where they were. It was surprising she’d held on for this long. He knew how badly she longed to have her hands in his hair or even kneading her own breast, still covered in that pretty, lace bra.

“Don’t come yet,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to the top of her sex.

He was torturous.

Purely evil, and yet, Elain thrived on it. Her entire body shook as pleasure swept through her. She was so close. So very close to the edge, ready to fall into the oblivion that was being loved by Azriel.

Her body jerked, and Azriel held onto her tighter.

Elain tried to obey, and tried to stay perfectly still, even though her entire body fought against it.

Azriel’s tongue continued to dance along her sex, continued to suck on her most sensitive of parts.

“I need you,” Elain begged.

Azriel didn’t respond, he only tugged her close, sucked her harder, praised her longer.

“Az, please.” It was more or a groan than anything else and he responded by sucking her clit between his lips and pulling hard. At the teeniest press of his teeth, she began to shake, and then he began to pump his fingers in and out.

Elain shattered, crying out and letting go of the table. Her hand dove into his hair and she lifted her hips, doing whatever she could to keep his face where it was.

Azriel worked her through her orgasm and when she stilled, he stood, wiping off his face and looking down at her. She was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling, but that full bottom lip was caught between her teeth again as she watched him. She knew what was coming.

“You weren’t supposed to come yet,” he breathed, dragging a finger from top of her sex up her stomach and between her breasts. He reached her face and worked her lip from between her teeth. “You disobeyed me.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, even though she really, really wasn’t. The last thing she was was sorry.

“You’ll have to be punished now,” Azriel said, softly.

“Punished how?” Elain asked.

Azriel watched her for a moment before he said, “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach, her ass in the air. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, and raised his hand before smacking her across her ass.

Elain gasped at the contact and had to bite her lip to keep from exploding into a fit of delighted giggles.

The sharp intake of breath was her only response, she fought to keep in the quiet cry or moan that he wanted to draw from her. She was feeling bratty tonight.

Glancing down at the ring sparkling on her finger, she knew exactly why. She got to experience this sensual rush for the rest of her life. She was Azriel’s.

And he was hers. Forever.

His hand cracked against her skin again and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from moaning.

He did it again and again, but then he suddenly stopped.

“You’re getting even more wet for me,” he breathed, dragging a finger along her center. She was unable to stop her whimper. He added, “That’s not the point of a punishment.”

He knew exactly what his spankings did to her. He loved it, and if he kept on with it, she’d be dripping all over their kitchen table.

Without warning, he picked her up, carrying her into the living room and tossing her on the couch. She bounced gently, a pleased smile on her face.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he ordered, pulling his own shirt over his head.

Slipping the button down off her shoulders, Elain reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She watched as Azriel removed his belt and dropped it to the floor.

She tried not to let herself feel any disappointment as he discarded the belt. He’d used that once or twice before and the unyielding, stiff leather had drawn more than a few orgasms from her as he spanked her with it.

He popped the button on his jeans and said, “Touch yourself.”

Propping her feet up on the couch, she spread her legs for him and slid her hand over her pussy. He was right. She was soaked and so, so turned on. She circled her clit with one finger. She moaned softly, “But I want to touch you.”

“That’s too bad,” he replied, his eyes settling on her sex. “You’re being punished.”

She slid her finger between her folds, teasing herself. Adding a second finger, she just barely dipped them into her entrance, but no more than her finger tips. She was so sensitive, still riding the high of her orgasm and fought off a moan as she watched Azriel watch her.

Dragging the zipper down on his jeans, her eyes tracked the motion and she stilled, waiting for him to take them off.

“I don’t remember telling you to stop,” he said, regaining her attention.

Her fingers began slow motions, yet again, but she didn’t take her eyes off of where his own hands worked at removing his denim. She breathed, “And how long will this punishment last?”

Azriel’s eyes sparked as his chest rose and fell, slowly. “It’ll end when I want it to.”

Elain nodded as her fingers slid up inside of her and she let out a soft, low moan.

Azriel licked his lips as he tracked her every movement. “Keep up the good work and I may just let you choose your own punishment.”

“I’d rather have a reward.” Her voice was soft, low, but it was shaking slightly. The anticipation got her off just as much as her own fingers did.

He paused with his jeans hanging low on his hips. She could see the waistband of his black boxer-briefs underneath. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I want to touch you,” she said again, slipping both fingers inside herself again, deeper this time. Curling her fingers up, she reached for her g-spot, eyes falling shut when she skimmed over it. Her head fell back against the cushions and she groaned.

His approach was silent, but she felt his hand on her face and when she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. His cock was in his hands and he stroked it once. “You want to touch me?” He asked.

“Yes, please.” She continued to pump her fingers in and out and licked her lips as her eyes bounced between his eyes and his thick, proud length. It was just a few inches from her face.

“How do you want to touch me, Elain,” he asked, dragging a thumb over her bottom lip.

It was that tone, that deep, sensual tone of his that drove her mad.

“I want to take your cock into my hands,” she breathed, the words hitched. “Into my mouth.”

Azriel hummed, as if he was debating it. He nodded to the fingers that were pumping in and out of herself. “You can touch me when you’re finished touching yourself.”

Elain nodded, her hand moving faster as she pumped those two fingers in and out, then another, easily sliding in alongside the others.

Azriel stroked himself, slowly, again and again as he watched.

Elain’s other hand trailed between her legs and she began to circle her clit, pulling a loud moan out of herself. As her two hands worked, she drew closer to the edge, and Azriel’s breathing grew shallower.

Her words were high pitched and she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she asked, “Can I come? Please, I’m so close.”

He ran his thumb over her lip again and waited until she was looking up at him. And then he smirked. “No, baby, you can’t.”

Elain wasn’t proud of the whine that she let out, but she slowed her fingers. She didn’t withdraw them, because she knew he wouldn’t like that, but stopped circling her clit. If she didn’t, she was going to come and as fun as another punishment really would be, she wanted her reward.

“Good girl,” he crooned, tilting her chin up to look at him. She’d been staring at his cock. There was a milky bead of precum on the tip and she wanted to lean forward and lick it off.

As if he could sense her thoughts, he ran his thumb over the thick head, spreading the wetness over the length. She tried not to whine again.

“You want me in your mouth?” He asked, shifting his hips forward slightly.

“Please,” Elain breathed, nodding eagerly.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”

She frantically nodded, and Azriel wondered if she even knew she was bucking her hips, searching and needing release. He loved when she got like this, so needy and begging for whatever he’d give her.

Instead of giving her what she wanted though, he crouched, taking the hand that had been circling her clit in his. Raising it to his lips, he licked the tips of her fingers. He moaned quietly. “I will never get tired of the taste of you.”

Elain whimpered softly, her other hand still pumping in and out of herself.

“Do I taste as sweet to you as you do to me?” He asked, leading that hand back to her swollen clit and stood.

She began the slow circling again and nodded, and he knew if she was incapable of speaking, she was going wild with lust.

In the quietest of voices, Azriel said, “Prove it.”

Elain wasted no time wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and lathering him with her tongue. Azriel let out a long, slow breath at the contact and when her finger slowed against her clit, he shook his head. “Don’t stop.”

Elain moaned, and the vibrations against him had Azriel’s fingers weaving their way into her hair as Elain took Azriel further into her mouth.

She continued the slow circling of her clit, but slipped the rest of her fingers from wet pussy. She reached for his cock, to wrap around what wouldn’t fit in her mouth, but he caught her hand. Her fingers were glistening, still costed in her essence, and he brought them to his mouth. “We can’t waste that,” he murmured, before sucking them between his lips one by one.

Elain’s eyes fluttered shut and she moaned softly as he released her hand and slipped his free hand into her hair as well, absolutely controlling her and the pace with which she worshiped him.

Or so he thought.

Opening her throat, Elain took him as deeply as she could, gazing up at him as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Azriel was unable to stop the groan as he fucked her mouth and throat with no abandon, until she began to gag softly.

He withdrew himself, dropping his jeans the rest of the way, and sat down on the couch next to her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her roughly. “That’s new,” he crooned, his lips dragging down her neck.

Her laughter was sensual as she continued to stroke him. “I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t think you’d be surprising me, too,” she admitted, bringing her hand up to admire the diamond sparkling on her finger.

Azriel wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his lips, where he kissed the back of her hand, just below her ring.

“I’m just glad you’re not asking me to wait for this again until our wedding night,” he murmured.

Elain grinned. “I don’t think I would survive the wait. I’d have to marry you tomorrow.”

Azriel’s eyes sparkled as he took her hips and pulled her on top of him. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

Elain moaned quietly as Azriel teased her at her opening. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna make you wait.”

“That, and you want a big wedding,” he said, leaning up and trailing kisses along her throat.

“Not a big wedding,” she replied, trying to lower her hips. His grip was firm though, and she only managed another inch, teasing herself just as much as he’d been teasing her.

Resting her hands on his shoulders, she tried to rock her hips, wanting more of him inside of her. He still held firm.

His smirk was devilish when she looked up into his face. “I never said you were done being punished.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. She squirmed and his grip on her hips tightened, his smile growing. “Az, please.”

“Hmm?” He leaned up again, capturing her lips with his and his thumb found her clit. Her body gave a jerk and her thighs burned with how hard she was trying to lower herself onto him.

Pulling away, she pressed her forehead against his. “Please… I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t come until you tell me to. I just need to feel you inside of me.”

He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth and released his hold on her hips.

She sank down onto him, not gently in the slightest, and moaned as he filled her in one rough stroke. She bucked her hips, not rising but needing the friction as her lips crashed against his.

It was thrilling. There was always a rush that consumed Elain’s body the moment he filled her. A spark of excitement that never grew old, never faded.

Azriel knew it, too. There was a look that crossed her face that only showed itself the moment he entered her.

It was beautiful.

Consumingly gorgeous.

Elain’s head fell back as she rocked her hips - her hips that Azriel’s fingers were digging into, yet again, but he didn’t guide her.

She did that perfectly well on her own.

With his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, Azriel’s eyes scanned Elain’s body, from her tilted back head, to her breasts at eye level, then to where they were connected.

“Better?” Azriel asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” she breathed, eyelids fluttering shut.

He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his. The kiss was not gentle, but he knew that wasn’t how she wanted it. Sure, they had sweet, soft sex sometimes, something they both adored on occasion, but nothing drove Elain wild as much as rough sex did. He had never dreamed she’d be as submissive as she was but gods, he was so glad of it. She was the other half he’d been waiting for and the fact that she was his for the rest of his life…

He growled quietly as he pressed his other hand to the small of her back and rocked his own hips up into her. She gasped against his lips and braced her hands on his shoulders as they found a rhythm that had her groaning his name.

There were very few things that pleased Azriel more than hearing his name on Elain’s mouth while they fucked. It broke him, unleashed something unearthly.

His hips thrust harder up into her, and each time he did so, his name grew louder and louder on her lips.

Azriel felt that magnificent, familiar feeling rising within him but he didn’t move his eyes from Elain. Her face was still close to his, her breath hot against his mouth. He cursed before kissing her, yet again, bringing her lip between his teeth and gently tugging.

Before she could anticipate it, he flipped them so they were laying on the couch, his body covering hers, and lifted one of her legs so it rested on his shoulder. It opened her up, allowing him to thrust harder, deeper, and she began clawing at his back. She cried out, and he groaned as she screamed his name.

His fingers gripped her chin and her lust-filled gaze found his. That hand slid between them and found her clit. The next thing he said wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

“Come for me.”

Elain did. She shattered, her body shaking with the force of the orgasm that slammed into her.

Azriel couldn’t hold on much longer, the feeling of her coating him, spasming around him, having him meeting his own end.

He came, one hand digging into the couch cushions, the other gripping her ass. His fingers would surely leave a mark.

Elain didn’t mind.

He fell onto her body, breathing heavily, sweat coating his skin. As Elain caught her breath, her arms wrapped around him.

His face was buried in her neck, and she felt his lips moving and heard him murmuring before she could understand what he was saying. But then she heard him, clearly, and she wondered how it had taken them years to realize it together.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His words weren’t just a quiet praise and reminder, but also a promise, as strong as the one that she now wore on her finger.

He pulled back, his eyes finding hers, even as his chest was still heaving as he caught his breath. Reaching up, she ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I love you, too.”

His gaze was soft as she leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. They stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly kissing each other, not in any hurry to start anything up again, but just enjoying the taste and feel of each other.

When Elain’s stomach growled, however, Azriel pulled back and looked at her with a raised brow.

“Work up an appetite?”

She laughed, quietly. “Maybe so.”

“Well, Rita’s is gone,” Azriel muttered, “but, there’s pie.”

Elains laughter grew louder, and even Azriel couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“It’s a little burnt, but I’m sure it tastes alright,” he went on. "Maybe."

“Pie sounds good,” Elain said, eyes bright. “Even if we can only eat the filling.”

Azriel scoffed. “That’s the best part.”

“True,” she agreed, and rolled off the couch from beneath him. “I’m going upstairs to clean up. Meet me in bed.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked over her shoulder. Azriel's eyes scanned every inch of her body as she said, “You bring the pie.”

Azriel was off the couch before she could finish her sentence, doing just that.

[hrina]

The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon. 

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.  

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 6

A/N  Well, here it is.  The last chapter of Ginger Snap.   As an unplanned fic inspired by a vanity license plate, I’m happy with how it turned out.   There will be a short epilogue posted in the next week or so.  In the meantime,  thank you so much for coming on this unexpected ride with me!   This chapter’s themed title is Fire in the Belly.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

The next five months were some of the most difficult of my life.  

After our talk, Frank and I agreed that it would be best that we parted ways.  The Southside flat was close to the university, plus I’d never truly felt at home there, so it made sense for him to keep it.  Fortunately, we’d never combined our savings and I still had money tucked away from my time as a medical resident in Boston.

Geillis wanted me to move into her sprawling Murrayfield home, at least temporarily, but I knew that I needed a place of my own.  To stand on my own two feet, as it were.   Which was how I found myself moving my few belongings into a modest Morningside walk-up as the rest of Edinburgh celebrated Hogmanay with fireworks and drunken revelry.

I scheduled the written component of my medical licensing exam for February.  This was likely foolhardy, but I’d already wasted enough time.  As a result, almost every waking hour was dedicated to studying.  The flat remained an empty box whose naked beige walls bore witness to my rudimentary existence.

Geillis called regularly, reminding me to eat and to occasionally step outside for a breath of fresh air.  Returning up the high street from one of our weekly coffee dates, a bright flash in a shop window caught my eye.

I stopped and stared as the afternoon sun lit the vase like a shard of stained glass.  It was a profound shade of blue: the colour of a field of indigo, of the night sky in a Byzantine icon, of Jamie’s eyes when he laughed.  It sat on my windowsill, filled with the season’s first daffodils, as I pored over practice exams.

***

“Geillis, I passed!  I fucking passed!”  An elderly woman seated across from me on the bus muttered under her breath about vulgar Sassenachs, but I was too elated to care.

“Of course ye did, ye brilliant disaster.  Now I can brag tae the neighbours I have my own personal physician.”

“Not so fast, Duncan.  I still need to pass the clinical exam, and that’s no small thing.”  My gut twisted just thinking about it, but unlike the written exam, there was little I could do to prepare.  Either I knew how to perform as a doctor or I did not.  The long months since I’d last treated a patient loomed like a large shadow over that question.

“Och, yer bum’s oot the window Claire,” my friend dismissed blithely.  “Ye’re gonna do great.  When do ye head down tae yer homeland, then?”

“May first.”  The practical examination took place in Manchester and needed to be scheduled three months in advance.

“Sounds like ye’ve got some time on yer hands.  Whate’er are ye going tae do with yerself?” Geillis asked in a singsong voice.

Fortunately for me, spring was Edinburgh’s most pleasant season.  Its many gardens and laneways erupted in carpets of buds and blooms.  The air smelled fresh and green, like biting into a tart apple.  I took long walks and fell in love with the city I now called home.  There were secondhand bookstores to explore and a weekly craft market where I gradually amassed an assortment of items that made my flat feel like a home.  With each passing day, my existence felt more and more like a life; one I defined for myself.

I also started to explore my options for employment, hoping for a job offer from one of the city’s hospitals that was conditional upon my successful completion of the licensing process.  It was to that end that I found myself walking down the corridor of The Royal Edinburgh hospital after what I hoped had been a rather successful interview with the deputy director of surgery.

“Claire?”

I recognized her voice immediately.  Before turning around I closed my eyes and sent out a fervent appeal to the universe.

“Jenny, hi.  How are you?”

She looked just the same, her straight black hair such a contrast to her brother.  Next to her stood a man, but not the man I had conjured the moment I heard her voice.  I was unclear whether that meant my prayer had been answered or not.  Seeing my gaze stray, Jenny jumped to introductions.

“This is my husband, Ian.  We’re here fer treatment on his leg.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”  

“Jes a fitting fer a new prosthetic.  Jenny keeps beatin’ me o’er the head with the old one, ye see.”  I laughed, instantly liking his easy-going manner, so in contrast with Jenny’s intensity.

“Ye must be the Claire I hear sae much about,” he went on, and I wondered what had been said about me in the Fraser household.

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

Ian smiled warmly.  “Only good things, I promise ye.”

“What brings ye tae the hospital, Claire?” Jenny interjected.

I explained how I was in the process of qualifying to practice medicine in Scotland, provided I could pass my exams.  Jenny and Ian were both delighted, congratulating me as though I’d already accomplished my goal.  As we spoke about Wee Jamie’s latest exploits and the ongoing growth of Ginger Snap, I couldn’t help notice that Jenny was staring at my hands.  At my left hand in particular.  Finally, I couldn’t resist temptation any longer.

“And, how is Jamie doing?”  I tried to sound casual, but I was certain my faltering voice betrayed me.

“Very well,” Jenny replied.  “Busy, as ye can imagine, but he thrives on chaos.”

I nodded, trying to be satisfied with the news that he was well.  It was the most I could hope for, really.  Jenny eyed me shrewdly before continuing.

“He’s a good man, my brother.  Any lass would be verra lucky tae have him.  I’d like tae see him settled, but he refuses tae be rushed.  Says the right woman is worth the wait.”  She paused before adding,  “I reckon ye ken wha’ he means.”

“Yes,” I breathed.  “I know exactly what he means.”

***

I took the overnight train from Edinburgh to Manchester.  It meant I was likely to arrive at the testing centre deprived of sleep, but I rationalized that most of my residency could be characterized as one long evaluation under similar conditions, and I hadn’t killed anyone yet.  Still, as the velvety darkness slipped by outside my window, studded by the lights of passing farms, my doubts got the better of me.

I texted Geillis, looking for moral support.  For once she didn’t reply immediately.  There was one other name on my laughably short list of contacts.  I deliberated for all of a minute, but the late hour and creeping panic made me impulsive.

Hello.

Best to start with something innocuous, rather than the slightly more revealing “I miss you.  I think about you every day.”  A reply bubble appeared immediately after I hit send.  At least I hadn’t woken him up.  A small tempest stirred in my gut.

Arsonist.  Hello.  How are you?

I tried to picture him.  Was he at home?  Working late?  Or, in a scenario that played out far too often in my mind, on a date?

I’m alright.  Well, to be honest, I feel like I’m going to puke and cry.  Not necessarily in that order.

Och, lass.  Do you need me to come over?

Damn it, this man.  I had done nothing to deserve his unswerving loyalty but mislead him and then disappear for months on end.  And yet here he was, willing to come to my aid on the flimsy pretext of a late night text.  Guilt and tenderness warred for possession of my heart.

That may prove a bit difficult, Jamie.  I’m on a train to England.

There was a long pause, and then a two letter reply.

Oh.

I realized at once that he’d leapt to the wrong conclusion: that I had left Edinburgh for good.  I rushed to correct the error.

I’m taking the second stage of my examination to practice as a NHS doctor tomorrow.   It’s all hands-on situations, and the licensing facility is in Manchester.

Arsonist, that’s wonderful news!  I’m so proud of you.

I blushed, then leaned my heated cheek against the chilled pane of glass.  It had been a rash impulse, but this conversation was exactly what I needed.  I wasn’t alone in this.  Geillis and Jamie were in my corner.

What has your stomach in a twist, then?

What if I’ve forgotten what to do?!  It’s been almost a year since I’ve so much as used a stethoscope, Jamie.  The exam is eighteen real-life situations and you’re given eight minutes to respond to each one.  Not a second longer.  I’m just...  what if I fail?

And there it was.  The kernel of fear that lived at the heart of everything I did.  What if I failed?   What if my best wasn’t good enough?

Claire, listen to me.  You’re a doctor, just as I am a chef.  It wouldn’t matter if I had not set foot in a kitchen in ten years, I would still remember how to cook, and I know that it’s the same for you.  I believe it with everything in me.

On some level, I knew that he was right.  But it still comforted me tremendously to hear it from someone I trusted.

Alright.  That helps.  I should let you get to bed.  Thank you for talking me off my ledge, Jamie.

Anytime, Arsonist.

As I got ready sign off, another text bubble appeared.

Oh, and Claire?  Don’t burn down their wee laboratory, okay? ;-)

I laughed out loud, muting my phone and reclining my seat.  Outside, the stars shone brightly, tiny fires in the firmament to guide me on my way.

***

It was a lovely late spring day, and the retractable doors to the fire station were open to the warm breeze.  I could hear Angus’ voice as he led a cooking demonstration for a group of young women; a bridal shower by the look of their ridiculous costumes.

“Mind the coriander, lass.  Tis a verra powerful aphrodisiac, ken?  I willna be held responsible if ye canna resist my considerable charms after ye eat yon soup.”

There was an outburst of giggles as I rounded the corner and entered the reception area.  Jenny was on the phone.  She halted mid-sentence when she saw me walk in.  I rubbed my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to stay calm.

“He’s in the storeroom, in the back,” Jenny prompted before I could even offer a greeting.  I smiled gratefully, relieved I didn’t have to make small talk.  I had only so much courage stored in reserve, and I didn’t want to use it all up before reaching my destination.

The storeroom was long and narrow, lit by a single naked bulb and girded with shelves.  Jamie stood with his broad back to the door, his curls absorbing the light like amber.  He had a clipboard in one hand, performing some kind of inventory.

“Jes how many lentils dae ye reckon we need, Janet?  There’s nine cans of them here already, and ye have us ordering ten more.”

I’d almost forgotten how much I loved his voice, the undulating grit and silk of it.  I had to remaster the art of speech before I could reply.

“It’s not Jenny.  It’s me.  Claire.”

He froze, and if it weren’t for the sudden rapid flow of his breath I would have assumed he hadn’t heard me.  My nerves got the better of me and I blurted out, “I like lentils.  You should listen to your sister.”

“Claire.”  More sigh than word.  He slowly turned.  It was when our eyes met that I knew nothing had changed for him.  It was still there, after all these months.  That look that told me I was the map to his journey, the focus to his vision, the reason to his why.  

Hopefully he could read that same certainty on my face.

“I passed my exams,” I began.  “I’m a doctor again.”

“Ye never stopped bein’ a doctor.  This jus’ makes it official.”

“I’m still a disaster in the kitchen,” I continued.  “Last week I ruined two saucepans.”

“Tha’s only a tragedy if ye dinna have someone willin’ tae cook fer ye,” he replied with a strange squinting motion I understood was meant to be a wink.

“I’m still learning who I am.  How to be true to the person on the inside,” I confessed.  This is what had kept me away for so long, worried that I would escape from Frank’s orbit just to be caught up in another.  Jamie never once expected my submission, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t offer it out of habit.

“I’ll let ye in on a secret.  Sae is everyone else,” he replied.

Without realizing it, we’d both been moving until we were crowded together amongst the dried herbs and canned goods.  My hand rested against the solid metronome of his heart.  Just one more confession to go.

“I burn for you in a way I’ve never burned for anything before.”

There.  It was said.  A thousand wings of rapture beat against the cage of my ribs, clamoring to break free.  Jamie carefully pushed a loose curl behind my ear before cupping my jaw.

“Wee arsonist.  Come, set my life on fire.”

[real-fanta-sea]

If you're serious about the kiss thing...... You should do trikey with 56? Mikey's getting irritated about all the shit in Trevor's house

yep I’m serious, thanks for the request! It was fun to play with it, especially the part of annoyed Michael :D I used some strong language here, just so you know. 

Ok, here we go *cracks knuckles*

Apart from being an exceptional place to hide from all kinds of law enforcement and pissed off gang bosses, Sandy Shores provides another highly valued quality - it's fucking hot. And not that convenient 'oh look it's the first sunny day of spring' kind of wee warm, but the brutal, penetrative heat of working by deep fryer in McDonald's during summer.

Michael smacked his lips, belched and threw an empty bottle over the battered railing of the front porch. It clanked and landed on dusty ground with a satisfying crunch, and the sun dried it in an instant. He lost count on how many of them he has already downed and disposed of, but drinking didn't help no matter what style he tried. Slow, fast, cold, warm. He tried everything. Except feeling a bit sluggish, there was no effect the lukewarm pisswasser could ever have on him after years of self-taxidermy with whiskey and coke.

The street went gradually silent by the time he finished yet another bottle, shadows grew longer, and the sun grilled him from a slightly different angle. A chatter of people was replaced by an out-of-tune orchestra of crickets and the Eagles blasting from a radio somewhere in the neighbourhood, both flowing through the air with the flavour of barbecue.

Another day successfully wasted Michael thought and shifted on the couch. If only the TV would work, he could have spent it watching movies. Or not, because the tin can ramshackle got so hot during the day he could barely breathe there. Fucking Trevor. If it wasn't for him, he could be sitting by a pool full of ice, eating ice cream and slurping milkshakes from frozen tits. Maybe even pay the girl to ride him, so he didn't have to move a finger. Or better yet, tie Trevor up, throw him into his tailgater, lock him there and make him watch them fuck... But did he really want it? Wouldn’t he be the one who would instantly let him out and have a wild make up sex with him?

An annoyed grunt later, Michael lazily tugged on the hem of his, now very rural looking, tank top and dried his forehead with it. Something deep within knew he shouldn't have used the words Trevor and Fuck in one sentence because it awakened a part of him he should better let sleep. That part that supplied his tipsy brain with vivid images of long limbs locked around him, dark hair all over dirty pillows and amber eyes rolled back, set in a very flushed face... No, nope, it wasn't what he wanted to think about, in fact, he just wanted another beer. Yeah, another beer to make that awkward semi go away. And maybe strip off his top to make that damn heat go away? Yup, that was what he wanted. Aaaand a cigarette. Perfection.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

Michael's half snore was interrupted by a sound of shutting the car door and heavy boots stomping through the cooling dust. A quick glance from the porch told him the Bodhi was back from where it took off in the morning, and there was a tall figure growling near it, shuffling some boxes in the back. For a second, Michael thought he actually moved back in time, because his back was killing him pretty much the same way it did in the morning with the same taste of beer on lips. The only detail that didn't quite match was that his torso was now naked and pearled with sweat, and there was quite a lot of bottles and cans right below the railing.

Slowly and carefully, Michael stood up and stretched like a fat cat after a good afternoon nap. Trevor was still caught up by the truck, which gave M enough time to step a bit closer to the stairs and lean on a post to regain stability while observing the sight right in front of him. Trevor never was the most ripped guy, but the way his arms bulged when he lifted a box made Michael weaker than he would admit, and the way his jeans perked up his ass when he squatted made his mouth dry. Why the hell did he have to wear that black sleeveless top? Michael thought. He knows whenever he does, we end up fucking...

Just as he lip his bit for thinking about T that way, his best friend turned around for the first time since he arrived and locked eyes with Michael. For a brief moment, he looked surprised, even taken aback by that idiotic drunk grin on Michael's face and the way he leaned against the only solid post of the house, but it soon was replaced by pure fury.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

That was actually an excellent question. Or it would be, if Michael knew the answer to it.

"What? What do you mean?"

"You SLUT!!!"

Trevor charged towards him full speed in a split second and made Michael jump a little harder than he thought it would and jammed his lower back against the table, and both M and table cried in pain.

"What the fuck, Trevor! What's your fucking problem... ouch..."

Trevor leapt up the stairs, grabbed one of Michael's wrists and yanked him towards the door he kicked open.

"You fucking whore, YOU are the problem!"

Michael's brain quit the chat altogether and bailed out on him, leaving him staring on Trevor with gaping mouth and slightly raised eyebrows. He stumbled through the door, unable to free himself from Trevor's grip, and when T shut the door and threw him back first on them only to grab his shoulders to keep him still, all he could do was to stare into his fiery eyes.

"What were you thinking, showing off your tits to all our neighbours, huh?"

Michael gulped when Trevor leaned closer. Over the past few weeks, he learned the smell of gasoline and tobacco meant sloppy fucks on the kitchen counter and hungry kisses with bitten lips. That night, it all was topped with a gun powder.

"you dirty bitch, I leave you home alone for one day and when I come back what do I see? A pair of your slutty knockers right in my face."

His hands suddenly decided to fight his stupor, and as he felt Trevor's breath on his neck, he tugged on T's top and hungrily squeezed waist found there. The only answer was a deep purr and wet tip of Trevor's tongue right where his pulse drummed against the fine skin. With a small moan, he yanked Trevor closer and collided their hips, but Trevor was faster and grabbed both his wrists and pinned them against the tin door.

"You horny bitch, did showing off make you hot and wet? Or are you just happy to see me?"

Trevor's anger was gone, now replaced with his usual horniness, as he ground his hips against Michael's to let him know the thought got him hot too. And god that shit-eating grin on his face when he leaned in and bit Michael's lip, but didn't go for a full kiss... That was the point of no return. That fucking tease! Michael trashed under him and actually managed to get both hands freed just to leap forward and literally throw them both trough the bathroom door, for Trevor to land on the toilet bowl.

Michael could barely hear the sound of boxes and bottles clacking, falling to the dirty ground as he straddled Trevor and grabbed his head to steal that kiss he wanted since he saw him outside. Trevor just did his best to balance them both on the tiny bowl and waved his arms around, trying to grab onto something solid. Just as Michael decided to nib on Trevor's lip lightly and open T up for a nice french action, something hit the back of his head with an annoying accuracy. Then it clanked on the ground, followed by choked laughter and sound of plastic rustling. Michael instinctively shot up and stumbled back, massaging the hit place.

"Ouch! T, what the fuck was that?!"

"That was a shower curtain, cupcake... I must have torn it when you tried to flush us both down the bowl..."

"and you won't even say sorry you prick?"

"hmmm, how about showing you how sorry I am?"

Trevor possessed this strange ability to appear out of nowhere and cover M with kisses and hugs. Michael noticed only then how much taller Trevor really was when he was pinned against the shower wall and two hot hands slid past the waist of his jeans, kissing his lower lip too gently for Michael's liking. At first, he went with the flow, burying his fingers to Trevor's stubble and hair on the back of his head just to push him closer. Still, he set his mind to he didn't want it there, slow and gentle with water running down his back, not that night. Michael knew well when he brushes his tongue against Trevor's, pull back and bite his lip, T would not only let out a needy whimper, so unlike his manly growls, but he would also become weak enough to be pushed back to the kitchen where they could have much more fun. What he didn't count with was a nasty crunch under his foot when Trevor stumbled back towards the sink which immediately broke their kiss. A small moan of frustration made Michael more anxious for a moment than he would ever admit.

"What is it, T? Are you ok?"

"Fuck, Michael, you stepped on my laxatives!"

"What?"

"How am I supposed to shit without them?"

"Screw them, you won't need them when I'm done with you tonight."

"Gee how hot..."

But there was no way Michael would let Trevor finish that sentence - all he wanted was to pin him to the kitchen counter, tear those sweatpants apart and fuck him. Now it was him who stomped around, holding Trevor's hand and throwing him to the counter. It took him another second to grab a fist full of his hair and yank Trevor's head backwards to relish absolutely delicious silhouette of his throat with adam's apple bobbing up and down in excitement. Trevor's moans only fired him up further and probed the hardened bud under the black shirt - to a promising whimper and a force pushing him aside to which he willingly succumbed and let a pair of lips suck onto his own so hard he hit his head against a tv stand which cried in pain and fell apart along with the tv.

"Fuck Trevor...."

"Not now, Mikey, don't stop."

Michael felt the telltale twitch under his belly that watered down the pain and gave him enough power to roll over a couple of times, french kissing the fuck out of those perfect full lips, drawing nails to Trevor's now naked back and push his head closer. He almost didn't mind when the radio hit the ground and when Trevor threw him onto the table which made their beer spill on the filthy floor. With Trevor on top, latched onto his nipple and running his hand down to his tightened jeans, nothing could stop him from getting what he wanted. As he tried to kick his jeans off, there was a slight sensation on his foot, but nothing very clear. It could have been a cup or something - when suddenly Trevor bolted upwards, and Michael was forced to open his eyes and look into his horrified face.

"Trevor I swear this isn't funny, what is it this time..."

"Michael, we broke the Impotent Rage..."

"T are you trying to give me blue balls or what?"

"No, but you clearly want my home in shambles! Oh fuck look at that! This was a limited edition with a signature of the original cast!"

Trevor just emotionlessly bolted towards the couch, next to which lay a mass of broken blue plastic that might have been anything in Michael's opinion. And it was in the way of reaching destination orgasm which made him a tiny bit mad. Ok, maybe a lot.

"Pardon me, but it was you who put it to the wrong place! Why did you leave it on the shelf with all this trash? Why don't you just throw all this shit out?"

And with just one swing of the arm, he managed to throw the rest of Trevor's memorabilia to the floor where it shattered comfortably.

"And this whole place is a fucking dump! Have you ever heard about wall-mounted TV or glass shower door? When the fuck will you live somewhere normal? Jesus, what do I have to break to make this place look decent? And that stupid action figure? What's so special about it, anyway?"

He wouldn't regret it if Trevor didn't turn around with puppy eyes and didn't tell him in his hurt voice.

"Because it was a gift from you..."

Michael didn't quite know how he managed to pick Trevor up from the ground, bring him to the bed, plant gentle kisses to every inch of him and whisper he's so so sorry. He didn't even have to, because soon enough, Trevor pulled him closer again, rolled over on top of him and gave him a lesson from Canadian french that left Michael breathless. He just let it happen, running his hands all the way down from the back of Trevor's head, to feeling his stuble, chest hair, hard nipples and his raging boner, and his nails draw new tattoos on Trevor's back first and then drawing his fingers into soft inside of Trevor's tights enjoying the view of T riding him.

"Hey M..."

"Hm?"

Michael lit a cigarette, just relishing the sweaty and sticky afterglow with Trevor pressed close to his side.

"You broke my impotent rage, gimme that..."

And before he could say or do anything, Trevor snatched his last cigarette and inhaled so deep half of it was gone.

"Hey! Give it back!"

"Make me!"

Michael instantly shot up, determined to kiss that grin off Trevor's lips and lept forward only to bang his head against the headboard again. This time, Trevor didn't even try to hold back and let his bubbly laughter echo in Michael's aching head.

"Fuck you and fuck this damn trailer..."

"aww come on porkchop, you did both tonight - unless you are up for the round two?"

"Hmmm... Make me..."

[birdsaesthetic]

He wasn’t perfect, but he was so damn close

Note: This's a filler for what happens after the last scene in First impression, after that one crazy night Jeller had. I completed this fic a long time ago, true, but I loved it and I got some comments say that I should update, so I decided to dig deeper into the story by filing it with more scenes that still don't change how the ending went. And guys there’s fluff at the end I can’t wait for you t read. On Fanfiction

___

The morning after that crazy night, and for the next number of days, Kurt tried in every breath and every way to tell his wife that he was sorry, that it would never happen again; Jane, on the other hand, did all the things she'd always done on daily basis, except that she didn't look at him, and whenever he caught her eye, she intentionally looked away, as if his gaze were venom to be avoided.

Jane didn't bother to ask him what he did when he'd gotten off from work on that Thursday, or where he'd been. Though if it'd occurred to her that she wanted to do so and get the truth out of him, she could've done it. Easily so. But then again, she didn't bother, because the truth was there, blatant: he'd left her, and Peter, when they needed him the most…

She still asked him how his days were and made appropriate responses when he told her. Other than that, though, she always pretended to be busy with Peter so she wouldn't have to spend time with him.

He, during these dull days, watched her in earnest, in a desperate, longing way, while she was simply searching for something in their living room; or starching her neck in the morning; or peeling an apple with her knuckle guiding the blade; or massaging the small of Peter's back with her feather-like touches; or making their bed in her underwear to let the cream she'd rubbed all over her legs and arms soak in before dressing. He couldn't help the feeling of sudden panic hitting him at the chest that he'd almost not met her and married her and started a family with her if she, all these years ago, hadn't plotted her way into his life but had chosen someone else's life. He loved her way more than a human heart could, and loved the little one they'd created the same way. But did he deserve to be loved the same way? That was a doubt within himself these days…

If she would come over and yell at him about it, he'd be ashamed of himself—so damn ashamed—but he'd tell the her truth, that he what did on that day was really nothing, that he was basically just sitting alone at a quiet place, away from others, having a few drinks, because he was tired out, consumed to the fullest, and his entire being couldn't endure anything anymore, by all means.

You think that I'm not tired of it, too? she would cut through whatever he would've been saying afterward, yelling, though her voice would crack at the last few words, and here he'd look down and say nothing no more. He wouldn't know what to say then, and wouldn't know what do, either. He'd go silent, feeling the blood in his body boil, until his silence stretched so long that when he'd finally look up, to start begging her with his eyes to see how sorry be was—because that was all he was: sorry—he'd find her long gone from his surrounding.

____

"What can I do, Jane?" Kurt asked her the next Saturday morning, in the kitchen, grabbing her wrist to stop her from going over to Peter as he just started fussing. Instantly, her eyes flew to his, and if his grab hadn't indeed stopped her from moving, the plea she saw in his eyes would've done it.

"What do you want me to do, huh?"

She stared at him for a long minute, and he stared right back. He could see her thinking now. Behind those green eyes and pursed lips, he could see her thinking. But, by then, little Peter, alone in his room, was crying his heart out, and the sound got louder and louder by every passing second they wasted staring at one another.

"You know how much I hate such questions, Kurt," she told him, over the sound of Peter's screams, then yanked her wrist away and went straight to Peter. What her husband just asked her lacked profundity in it, she thought. He was basically asking her what he should do so she'd tell him to do this and that and he'd, of course, do this and that immediately. And then what? Then she was supposed to let whatever happened slide? That was way too easy on his side, and way too difficult on her side.

He sighed, as he watched her go before his eye. He was tired physically and emotionally. He'd been relying on two to three hours of sleep daily—and Jane's sleep was more or less like his, too. But aside from being unable to sleep at nights because of their baby's colic, she'd been consuming his thoughts, eating his brain, keeping him up at nights even when she didn't know it. Why did that have to happen to them? He could count the days when she'd slept angry at him—or the opposite—using his own fingers. The number was one digit. It was small, manageable. But now… Now they were only a few days apart from this number to become two digits.

On Saturday mornings they used to go on walks with Peter, but this Saturday Kurt sat alone in the kitchen, listening to Peter cry, and Jane shushing him. It was cloudy and dark outside today, and apparently the sadness of the day from outside snuck inside their place.

He sat, and thought.

He tried to think of the beginning of their marriage, their first year in the apartment in Colorado. The memories seemed almost too sweet to be real. Did they have arguments? They must've had, of course, but he couldn't recall any. They must have been short-lived. Silly, even. About food, most likely.

"Do you want Italian or Chinese for dinner?" Jane once asked him.

"I want what you want." Kurt shrugged lazily.

"Just tell me what it is that you want."

"I'm happy doing whatever."

"Now, this is so frustrating!"

"How is this frustrating? What's going on?"

"I'm asking something, but you're not putting the slightest effort into helping me!"

"How did you just make me not helping you here, Jane? Ugh, let's just get sushi. Is that okay?"

And that was that.

He wondered if they had fights back then, and smiled when he almost immediately could recall some of their fights and how ridiculous they were in comparison to now: It's-your-turn-to-turn-out-the-light fight—this had been a classic fight of theirs. There had been rare nights when the light switch flicked off without a fight. After all, who, of them, was sane enough to get out of bed while the other was lying naked in it? Kurt would refuse, always, and Jane would curse him aloud in another language, or maybe throw a punch or two at him. They would fight for a while, raise their voices during the late hour. But then, and in a heartbeat, they'd just make up for all of that and kiss and make love and completely forget about it the next morning.

It had been rather fun, having such arguments and fights back then, Kurt thought to himself. It wasn't about winning; it certainly wasn't about who was right and who was wrong. In fact, it was during those heated moments when they truly got to learn who the other person was, deeply, which ultimately made them stronger as a couple.

On this Saturday afternoon, however, they were trapped inside. They couldn't depart from their apartment due to the weather, nor could they have any fun inside. But they did spend a typical day at home anyway; they showered and cooked and cleaned and rushed around to go cuddle Peter when his stomach pain hit him. Though they did all these things from within glass walls, so when Kurt exchanged pleasantries with Jane, at dinner, he felt as if he were pushing his words through a chink in the glass.

On the following days, things between them become easier, somewhat—only because there was an effort, being made by the two of them to make things better. In the morning, she found him sharing a warm bath with Peter, because it was good for Peter; it made the pain in his belly easy off, if only slightly. And when he asked her to join them in the bath, she shook her head and said, "No. I'll let you guys have some quiet time together. Father and son. And I'll go have 'me' time. But before I go, do you need towels?"

At the end of the day, when she sat on the couch and tried to find something good on television, he came over and sat next to her and she allowed it, didn't mumble 'good night' and withdraw and call it a day like before. The first thing he did after getting off from work was come straight home, drop his things by the door and go have Peter for the remaining of the day—it was such a break for Jane, and it was so sweet to see father and son staring at each other over the bottle while he drank his milk.

She began looking at him again, sometimes just long enough to let him know that she knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't perfect, but he was so damn close.

____

In the dead of the night, while they were asleep, Peter started his usual crying. Kurt put a hand on Jane's hip and told her to keep sleeping, and then he picked up Peter and rocked him and offered a bottle and a song hummed low. It wasn't his fault that Peter didn't seem to settle until Jane came over and had him in her arms. Afterward, Kurt, standing there listless, made a joke at his lame situation, implying that, if he could get a wig resembling Jane's hair and have his entire body tattooed just like hers on the slim chance that perhaps Peter would mistake him for his mother and quiet down, he seriously would. Jane laughed. She laughed aloud at the joke he made, effortlessly so, even though it was dark, Peter was still wailing, and she was so tired.

After she laughed and he drank up the sound of her laughter to the last drop, he then added, "But… I know it's more than just our looks. I don't believe that Peter recognizes us by our looks at this early age. At least not mainly. But perhaps through our smells, body temperature and texture. Our voices."

She looked up at him, and offered the smallest of smiles. "You're right."

They went back to bed, after having made sure Peter was comfortable and asleep again. But half an hour passed by and they were yet to fall back asleep. They kept rolling from one side to another and sighing through the silence of their bedroom. For ten minutes straight he was staring at the dark mess of her hair from the back, then, for the next ten minutes or so, when he flipped to his side and she flipped to his side, too, she was staring at the bare of his upper back. Both wanted to reach out for the other and say something, but the thought of disturbing each other's sleep for the second time tonight was out of the question.

It wasn't until at one point they happened to face each other that Kurt placed a light hand on Jane's cheek and brushed his thumb there. Her eyes had been slightly open then, but now she had to close them and relish the moment at the soft of his touch.

"Jane, are we okay?" he asked, keeping his voice to whispers. "You and me?"

She opened her eyes again, and saw him looking so worried. She saw his own eyes and saw tears shimmering there. Crawling toward him, she placed a hand over his own, light yet somehow firm. "Yes, we're okay. Of course," she reassured him, and the worried look he'd been wearing just seconds ago, disappeared completely. He only needed to know this, only needed to hear this from her.

He brought her closer to him, kissed her forehead, nose, lips, cheekbones, and everywhere he could reach. When he drew back, he saw her grinning, her white teeth gleaming in the dark. "Do that all over again, please?" she whispered, her hand on his hair, and he did it all over again, though this time he seemed more confident, his kisses were relatively harder, his hands on her placed themselves in decent places: her neck, her back.

It felt so damn good to be kissed by him again, and it felt just as good to kiss him back. She hadn't been looking at him some days ago, let alone tolerate his touch. But now, she thought that she could spend a lifetime like this, letting him kiss her senselessly, and she'd be perfectly and entirely happy.

"Hey, Kurt," she called softly, framing his face with both hands. "It's a great idea actually! You get be me this next Halloween! And I can help you with that."

Kurt chuckled in disbelief, but she continued, "What? It's Peter's first Halloween ever. We have to make it fun for him."

He stole a kiss from her parted lips. "Sure, we have to make it fun for him. But we don't want to scare him! It's enough what he's going through."

"Of course we don't want to scare him! He's barely four months old by now. It's all gonna be light and fun and we'll get to snap so many photos of him while in a costume! I can't wait for it!"

"Think I'm not gonna look scary as hell while in your costume, fully-tattooed and a messy, dark wig over my head? I'm gonna look scary for certain, Jane. Just begin to imagine it."

"Did you just you mean that I look scary all the tim—"

"No, no, no. No. No. That's not what I meant here." He sniggered, burying his face deep in her neck. Then, shortly, he surfaced. "It's me who's gonna look scary in the tattoos and a wig! You've never ever looked scary in the tattoos."

"You won't look scary!"

"Yes, I will," he said, seeming certain and somehow sad. "And Peter is never gonna stop crying at the sight of me."

"I think you're gonna look sexy, honestly." She smirked, and he sighed as she continued, "And I think Peter's gonna like you, since he already likes me more than you now and I'm gonna make you look just like me!"

"Who are you gonna dress up as for Halloween, then?" he asked, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as his fingers began sneaking down to inappropriate places in her body, though he was totally entitled to do so.

"I'm not sure yet. But…" She couldn't continue until she stole a few kisses from him, randomly, everywhere she could reach. "But I'll be thinking about it. And I'll be thinking about Peter's costume, too, till then."

He was tearing off her t-shirt and got a little giddy at the sight of her nakedness when she concluded, "At least…now… Now, you're done. You should feel lucky that you're done, and not complain or worry anymore about your costume."

Feeling, indeed, so lucky, he was again atop of her now, and between his skin and hers, there was the smallest of spaces, barely enough for air, for the slick of sweat soon would be chilling. "I know, I won't complain nor worry. And, yes, I feel so, so damn lucky. Umm, you really think I'm gonna look sexy in your tattoos?"

"Shirtless? Yes, I really do," she whispered, then there was a hum slipping from her lips as he kissed her neck in a way that time seemed to stop.

They knew that they should be sleeping instead of talking about ridiculous Halloween costumes, and knew that sleep was probably better for them now than laughing and making noises and rocking the whole place. But then again, they didn't care. This was the most they'd talked in weeks, and this was the only sex they'd had in months.

"How are you gonna do it? The tattoos on me?" he asked her, some minutes after they calmed down and came back to earth. She slowly ran a hand over his chest as if examining it—already could visualize the fake  tattoos on him—before she replied, "Basically, I'm gonna draw them all over your body, with my magic marker!"

"Would that magic marker of yours wash off afterward?"

Giving him a mischievous look, she whispered, "let's hope so."

[lihikainanea]

Ok, but what about tiger and billy boy both being drunk as hell and can’t keep their paws off of one another? 🤟🏻

This is like...mmmm, this is the good shit.

So like, look--we’ve had tiger drunk as a skunk at his front door, ready to get freaky. We’ve had drunk Bill, handsy as fuck but genuinely confused and thinking maybe he dreamed up their whole dynamic.

But the two of these idiots, drunk together? Oh my god, the mayhem.

I was on a bit of a wedding kick with these two last summer, only because I had so fucking many to attend (groan) and I kind of low key think this would happen there?

Listen, I will never ever get this image of Bill disco-dancing to September by Earth Wind and Fire out of my mind, while tiger spins around him. I think this is a good base to build off of, because so much can happen here.

Listen, the wedding is late. At least the reception is, because receptions are always late. But Good Dude Bill, he plans ahead because he always has to plan ahead when he has a tiger to take care of, so she’s had a snack and both of them are a little tipsy from his secret flask as they wait for the bride and groom to make their big entrance.

They do, tiger claps for the exact amount of time that is deemed socially respectable, and then she beelines for the bar with Bill hot on her tails. Situations like this--awwwww wait, my heart--they make the big boy nervous. There are so many phones, so many phone cameras, so many social media accounts, god he almost started to hyperventilate the night before just thinking about it all, and how he might appear on someone’s photo or video somewhere and god he hates that shit. Without him knowing, tiger very quietly texted all of their friends and asked them to PLEASE pay special attention and make sure he was not in any of their posts--or else. And tiger’s “or else”? People are very, VERY scared of tiger’s or else.

But it’s a small wedding, close friends only. So tiger bolts it to the bar and Bill arrives just in time to hear it’s a cash bar because their friends suck, and he also arrives just in time to clamp a hand over tiger’s mouth and effectively stop the long string of cuss words that was just on the verge of exploding out.

“You can just open a tab,” Bill tells the bartender, “For me and my delicate flower here.”

Tiger bites him, and Bill grunts.

“No can do,” the bartender says, “I don’t have the computer for it.”

Tiger is literally growling so Bill just takes out his wallet, hands the guy his credit card.

“No problem,” he says with a casual smile, “So can you just go ahead and hold on to this for the night then? Just swipe it every time you see either one of us.”

“That I can do,” the bartender says kindly.

Tiger finally pulls his hand away from her mouth.

“I don’t need you, moneybags, to buy my drinks all night,” she snaps. Bill doesn’t miss a beat.

“And we’ll start off with three martinis, please. Two dirty, one with a twist,” Bill says, but there’s a pleading tone to his voice and the bartender nods in sympathy. Tiger is about to snap again but the bartender shook up the quickest martinis Bill has ever seen and placed them on the bar. Bill promptly slid the two dirty ones tiger’s way, while he held up his one with a twist.

“Cheers kid,” he says. Tiger just deadass looks him in the eyes as she downs a whole one in a single gulp, taking the second one with a huff and stalking off to their table.

She uh, no doubt loosens up a bit over the course of the night--good food, good liquor, her Big Dude being so sweet and looking out for her--that’ll do it. Tiger devours her main dish and Bill knows that when she eats that fast, it’s because she’s still hungry at the end. He not only pushes all the best stuff on his plate to the edge near her so that she can steal it, but on his way to the washroom he slips the waiter a few dollars dollars billz and asks him to bring out another plate. Tiger is elated when a second dish is dropped in front of her, and she polishes off that one just as quickly. She squeezes his thigh softly under the table, looking at him all drunken and lovesick, and thanks him quietly. Bill, knowing she’s happy and fed and feeling good--man, caretaker GOOD DUDE BILL is over the moon.

They dance. They drink (more). The midnight sweet table comes out, and tiger is the first one in line and ready to throw elbows about it. They drink (a lot more). They dance together, a lot more. Man, these two are just completely in their own little world for the entire night, and the both of them just couldn’t be happier. They slow dance, because I’M A SOFF BEAN. Bill holds one of her hands in his, her other one is near his shoulder (because he’s Big Dude) and his other one is wrapped around her waist, her cheek on his chest, both of them giggling and laughing and murmuring to each other and all of their friends are oblivious because that’s just what these two do. Boinking or not, that’s just how they are.

But look, 3AM rolls around and these two? They are sloppy drunk. Tiger’s feet hurt, so Bill gives her a piggy back as they say goodbye to everyone and wait for their cab. She’s still on his back, damn near snoring, when it pulls up. They giggle the whole way, tiger makes some off hand comment that maybe she could go for another snack and Bill is promptly throwing more money at the driver, asking him to go through the nearest McDonald’s drive through. The cab drops them off at Bill’s place and tiger’s feet are still hurting so she limps, but Bill swoops in and scoops her up bridal style, their McDonald’s loot of 6 quarter pounders, 5 fries, 3 apple pies and a Diet Coke in his other hand as he lifts her up and she just keeps laying big sloppy kisses on his face.

And god it’s so giggly isn’t it? He sets them up on the bed. Tiger is throwing her dress off the minute she’s in his stairwell, and he brings her a little make up wipe from the stash that he keeps on hand for her. He’s in his boxers a second later, she flings her bra off with such vigour that it almost ends up on his ceiling fan again. There’s no doubt a little impromptu make-out session right there in bed--Bill goes to pull one of his shirts over tiger’s head so she doesn’t get cold, but tiger is total mush and drunk and pulls him down for drunk kisses. It gets out of hand like it always does, Bill laughs into it when he feels tiger start to giggle, and she whines that her cheeseburger is getting cold.

FUCK MY HEART these two idiots they just sit there, cross legged on the bed, devouring their food. They talk about nothing and everything. Tiger gets the giggles at one point over absolutely nothing, which in turn gives Bill the giggles and it’s just this mess of sappy kisses, love-drunk looks, both of them in complete comfort right there half naked, full on drunk, bathed in the moonlight of the early morning.

Tiger wants sex. Tiger always wants sex because god, Bill is just so incredibly perfect. He’s kind. He’s aggravatingly handsome. He takes care of her. He smells incredible. And in the soft moonlight when he smiles that little lopsided grin at her and swipes some ketchup from the corner of her mouth, licks it off her thumb--tiger is done for. She pounces, knocking his fries out of his hand and Bill just goes with it.

But like--he’s drunk. He’s quite drunk.  Tiger can’t stop giggling into his chest and while he has a total love boner for her, his actual biology is just like...dead to the world. He’s embarassed, but tiger’s good-natured laugh could just cure anything in the world for him. She asks for cuddles instead--some belly rubs and pats, because she polished off those fries--and these two drunk idiots just fall asleep completely tangled in each other, every limb around the other, and they wake up that stuck together too.

[flutteringphalanges]

             Night of the Living Dead (And Then Some)

Summary: It’s 1897 and the world as we know it has become overrun by zombies. An unlikely pair, a former nun by the name of Agatha Van Helsing, and a bloodthirsty vampire, Count Dracula, have formed an alliance in the hopes of surviving this debacle. Can the two learn to coexist or will they end up as just another mindless cog in life’s maniacal wheel?

Ship: Dragatha

Rating: M

Chapters: 1/2

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N:  An odd two part one shot that came to my mind. I wanted to do something Halloween-ish. I guess in a way this is a parody because it is Dracula and there are also zombies?! Anyway, hope you like hope it turned out! -Jen

                                                    Part One

Surprisingly, he hadn’t taken notice of the damn thing until her arrow nearly took him out. Dracula watched as the undead beast faltered briefly before falling still on the ground. Right in the center of the forehead. She was getting good. Perhaps too good. Nostrils flaring slightly, he rounded about to face her.

“That could’ve easily hit me.” He attempted to argue as Agatha strode forward to pluck her prized arrow from the corpse. “What if I had moved just a bit? That weapon of yours could’ve struck my heart.” 

“And then I would have one less problem on my hands.” She replied simply, not so much as giving him the benefit of a look. “I knew what I was doing. If it hadn’t been for me, it would’ve gotten you and Lord knows what would happen if you were to get bit. There aren’t exactly many vampires about that we’ve seen cases of.”

“Must you bring God into this?” Dracula sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What do you want me to say, Agatha? Thank you?”

“That would be rather nice.” She sighed, cleaning off the grimy arrow. “But I have a feeling that I’m not going to get such a response from you. You are, as one might claim, a bit pig-head.”

“Pig headed?!” The vampire let out a humorless laugh. “Pig headed?! Why how your insults have grown since our first encounter, Agatha. If anyone is pig headed, it’s you for insisting we go to Brasov--which, I’ll inform you, was very overrun!” 

“Everywhere is overrun, Dracula.” The former nun sighed, finally turning to look at the man. “Romania, Holland...it’s like a cesspit of flesh eating monsters that, well…” She paused for a moment. “Make you seem like a mere mosquito.” 

The vampire’s eyes narrowed as the woman tossed her bow over her shoulder. Sometimes a small part of him felt the urge to end her right there. It would be so easy. But the bigger part refrained from that. Perhaps if he could read her mind at this very moment, she too felt the same way. Bickering was always better than dead. It was a good reminder to them both. 

“Come on.” Agatha’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “It’ll be daylight soon and the last thing I need is for you to burn into a crisp.”

“If I’m not mistaken, I could’ve sworn you said  you’d have one less problem without me.” Dracula countered with a smirk. 

“The idea is becoming more tempting.” The woman replied with a huff. “Now come on, there is no telling what awaits us.” She gave a nod with her head. “This way then.” 

The memory was still very vivid in his mind as he was sure it was in Agatha’s. The night he slaughtered every nun in St. Mary’s Convent but her. How the woman gave up her freedom, her life without a second thought in order to save meek, little Mina Murray. He’d had plans for Agatha. Devilish desires involving her blood. And in a way, perhaps she thought that somehow she could take advantage of him. Oh how the fates change when Death knocks at your door. A new side of unrest that he hadn’t seen in his several centuries of life. 

“I don’t know about you, but I am quite parched.” Dracula said, breaking the long silence. “I haven’t had a human since...well...does tasting you count?” “You’ve survived years without drinking, I’m sure you can continue on just fine.” Agatha said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been drinking river water and consuming squirrels and you don’t see me complaining. You don’t have to worry about dysentery.” 

“I suppose having you become ill and me carrying for you would put a damper on our little excursion.” He smiled when he saw the glare on Agatha’s face. “What do you suppose would happen if I were bit? If I were to become “undead” undead? Would it reverse the process? Would I be human again? Or would I be a raging animal the likes of which this world has never seen?”

“I’d prefer not to think about either of us getting bit.” The former nun expressed. “We’ve seen what happens. How they turn. It isn’t pleasant.” There was a brief pause before she added. “...If I were to be bitten, I would highly appreciate if you would kill--”

Dracula stopped in his tracks and turned to face his partner. “Your death--at least in the way you are proposing it, isn’t at the top of my list.” No, losing her in that matter was not certain. “You will remain alive, Agatha...at least until I deem it otherwise.” 

“Your version of being undead is only slightly less repulsive.” Agatha exclaimed, shaking her head. “Now hurry along, we’re losing nighttime.” 

“Always so eager and demanding.” The vampire tutted with a smirk. “I have yet to decide exactly how I feel about that with you.” 

The former nun merely rolled her eyes once more, a small smile gracing her features. “My complexity is one of my more charming qualities.” Her gaze flashed up to the full moon. “Perhaps there will come a day where you decide. Or not.” Agatha’s attention turned to the vampire, a look of amusement crossing her face. “And maybe, if you are lucky, I’ll look forward to your answer.” 

“Perhaps.” The Count agreed. “Until then, it seems we are left to put up with each other.” 

A low growl came from within the bushes nearby. Agatha and Dracula turned to see a creature stumbling out from the brush. His skin, just like his clothing, dangled in rags as he hobbled over to the two. Without so much as a second thought, the vampire produced his treasure saber and brought it swiftly through the zombie’s head. Even after centuries of going untouched. Years of battle it’d been in. The Count’s weapon of choice was rather practical--even if it wasn’t as secretly impressive as Agatha’s bow.

“A clean hit.” The former nun noted. “You’re improving.”

Dracula let out a laugh. “As if you know anything about true combat.”

“I was raised by Abraham Van Helsing.” She countered, folding her arms. “And I know you well enough to know that my grandfather was quite skilled.”

“He was no warlord.” Dracula commented, cocking one of his brows. “Now, while I’d love to have a friendly duel with you, I’d rather not run into any more of our acquaintance’s friends. As you were saying, we are losing time. Best keep moving.” 

And Agatha was not one to argue with that. 

                                                       XXX

Cold. Dark. Musky. The dilapidated hunting shed they’d come across at least didn’t stream a single beam of light in. Agatha didn’t know why she agreed to this. Her clothes being used as a means to cover the floor. Protect her from splinters. As Dracula’s pale, naked body moved against her’s, the only warmth she felt was from his cape underneath her bottom. Fucking the vampire was hot in the word sense, but icy from his touch.

“Just a nibble…” He purred into her ear, teeth lightly grazing her earlobe. “It won’t hurt.”

“I said...no to biting…” Agatha panted, her back arching as the pad to one of his thumbs ran across her hard nipple. “Rules.” “Rules are for sheep and conformists.” Dracula growled, his hand sliding down to just barely rest on her groin. He smiled as she stiffened knowing she was throbbing deep inside. Aching for him. “Last time I checked you were far from that, Agatha.” 

“If you can’t control yourself, then I am more than happy to stop.” She offered, earning her a dark glare. She knew he was already hard. Cock pressed against her inner thigh. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this debate during sex and it wouldn’t be the last. “I’m not your bottle of wine, Count Dracula. No biting or no sex.” 

“You are a temptress.” He grumbled, his mouth set in a look of displeasure. “A tease.”

“I am merely the apple on the tree in The Garden of Eden and you are both Eve and the snake. You are your worst enemy.” She chuckled at her own analogy knowing well enough that her comparison to religion was not looked kindly upon by the vampire. “Isn’t my touch enough?”

She let her fingers travel down to where his cock rested against her. Dracula had been the first and only man she’d ever been with. Every sexual experience had been with him. And despite what she at first thought it’d be like, she loved it. Craved it. Especially when she whittled him down to his last nerve. Agatha gingerly touched his head, feeling the droplets weep from their prison. Over four centuries old and with just a few decades herself, she could still make him squirm. 

“With you, nothing is ever enough.” He said through a breathy whisper. “Never. Never. Ever.” And without a warning, he pushed a finger deep inside Agatha causing her to yelp with surprise. So wet. Two could play at that game. “There is a vein that runs down the length of your inner thigh that is particularly delightful.” Dracula explained, kissing the former nun hard. “It would be nice for the both of us.” 

“You’re a pig.” Agatha gasped as the vampire touched her sensitive spot. There were stars and her vision blurred. Dracula seemed to realize this too and probed the area thoughtfully. She struggled to speak. “Stop it!” Don’t stop. Keep going. Faster. “I...I could...scream…”

“Worried about the undead in a time like this?” Dracula snorted. “My dearest Agatha, I believe you could shout as loudly as you desired and no one would hear. And I quite like that idea.” He could feel her hand grip tighter around his cock as if in response. It took everything in him to hold it together. “If you won’t give me your blood, at least let me hear you cry out my name. You owe me that much.” 

Agatha gazed up at him with fury, but lustful blue eyes. He was winning this one. She hated when that happened. Though they were still shrouded in darkness, the former nun could still make out the glint of his smile as her hand released him and he positioned himself at her entrance. She bit down hard on her lower lip. Not because she anticipated the pain. No. She anticipated the pleasure and what was to come. 

Dracula was rather unpredictable when it came to his part in sex. He could be soft, almost caring and considerate. Loving. Or he could fuck so hard that Agatha’s head was left spinning and she had bruises the next day. And if she were to be quite frank, she didn’t have a favorite. The vampire was always so good. So damn fantastic that with every thrust Agatha felt herself shaking deep from within her very core. Part of her wondered if there was a possibility she could become pregnant. It hadn’t happened yet, and they’d had quite a lot of sex. Still, it was always on the forefront of her mind when his seed spilled inside her. 

“Say my name.”

The commanding voice pulled her from her thoughts and Agatha was dragged from the whimsical land of euphoria and to the wooden, shed floor. Dracula leaned over her, his lips curved into a smile. The former nun reached out and wound an arm around his neck to steady herself. She knew that he had her. He always did. But it helped. 

“Say mine first.” 

The words escaped out as a moan which did not help Agatha’s case. She was growing close to her climax, and Dracula could tell. His thrusts began to quicken, deepen as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Then without thinking, she bit down on the vampire’s skin. That immediately stopped the man in his tracks. 

“Did you just...bite me?” He asked breathlessly, grinning widely. “Oh, Agatha…”

There were no marks. Of course there wouldn’t be. But she was so caught up in the moment. Suddenly, it dawned on her as they lay there still in the throes of passion. A silly little thought that made her smile too. 

“You.” She gasped out. “You said my name.”

“What?” Dracula interjected. “But I...that doesn’t count…”

“Still said it…” Agatha smirked, chest rising and following. “I win.” 

“Oh, we will see about that.” The vampire chuckled darkly. “I’m just getting started.” 

                                                   XXX

Though he’d said her name, Agatha had finished first. Twice even before Dracula met his limit. They fell back on their makeshift bed of clothing that they’d be putting on later. Her head resting on his chest, the woman watched the door quietly. Though she felt sleepy as the adrenaline rush began to fade, a part of her wanted to stay awake. But she knew how important it was to remain diligent. Especially at night. 

“Romania has fallen to whatever caused this plague.” Dracula said softly. “And we don’t know where else it has stretched. Perhaps there's a chance it’s only here.”

“And Holland.” Agatha reminded solemnly. “We’ve been roaming around aimlessly. Seen less and less humans.” She was silent for a moment before she craned her head up to meet his stare. “I do realize how it affects you.”

His fingers ran down the base of her skull and followed the path of her spine. She closed her eyes as he stroked her back. It was soothing, though the conversation at hand was not. If humans were going to become like an endangered species, then what of Dracula? After everything she was taught. Everything she’d seen. Agatha knew deep down her feelings for the vampire weren’t right. But even deeper down she didn’t care. Not in the least bit. 

“I have a proposition.” Dracula said after a moment’s thought. “And I have thought about this quite a bit. Much longer than this disease has been going on and much, much longer than my meeting you.” 

Agatha sat up from where she lay. “What might that be?”

“England.” Dracula said simply, sitting up as well. “Where we’d go in England, it’d be more advanced than the villages we’ve gone to. Perhaps the virus isn’t there or even better, they have a cure. It is better than nothing.” 

“England.” Agatha repeated as if she heard him right. “But we don’t even have a ship. That’s at least a few weeks' sail from the coast to the bay. How do you expect us to get there?” The expression on his face said it all. “...Is there no other way?” Not telling him no. Not forbidding him. It was as if in desperation she was accepting of the terms. “Is it the only way to be done?”

“Blood is lives, Agatha.” Dracula said, expression still. “Information. If we want to get across then I’m going to need the blood of someone who understands sailing among other things. Someone healthy--or at least not riddled with disease.” He touched her hand, surprised she didn’t pull away. “I’ll take only what I need.” The Count promised. 

“And what if there are no survivors at the port?” The former nun whispered. “What if they’ve all turned?”

“Then we keep going.” The vampire sighed, leaning back. “You should get some rest. It’ll be a long journey to the port if memory serves correct. I’ll take watch.”

“You took the first watch last time.” Agatha countered, sitting up straighter. “And if you know where we are going, then you should be the one with the clear mind.” Dracula opened his mouth to interject, but she continued. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ll wake you up in a few hours. Besides, I am considerably more accurate with killing the creatures than you are with that ridiculous saber. You needn’t be so close with a bow.”

“Ah, you say that now but wait until those flimsy things split in two and your string breaks. Then you’ll be wishing you were brandishing reliable steel.” Dracula chortled. “Honestly, of all the weapons to choose from…”

“Go to sleep you warmonger.” Agatha snorted, resting a hand on his head as he lowered himself down. “There will be other times to debate weapons. Get some rest.” 

“Wake me if anything happens.” The vampire said with sudden alertness. “I am not playing, Agatha. At any immediate threat of danger, you must wake me up. Even if the sun has yet to set.” 

“You have my word.” The woman promised as the Count’s body relaxed. “Sleep.”

                                                    XXX

Agatha didn’t wake Dracula up after a few hours. Instead, when she was sure the sun was setting just enough as to not be so bright, she covered the vampire’s body as not to expose it and slipped outside. She inhaled deeply, enjoying what little light was left. She missed the day--though she kept that knowledge from Dracula. It was harder at night. Finding food. Water. But the few times she could escape. Sneak out without him worrying--those were good times. 

Thunk!

The partridge didn’t even see the arrow before it pierced straight through its body. It was an instant kill, one Agatha wished for every living thing she killed--maybe, if she thought hard about it, she’d feel the same about the undead. Picking up the decent sized fowl, she couldn’t help but admire it. After a good plucking and cooking, this would last her a few days. Especially if she could come across some salt and preserve it. Now that would be true luck. 

As Agatha walked over to what had perhaps once been a sort of fire pit, she took a seat down in the ground. Yank off handfuls of feathers, her mind kept wandering back to Dracula. His own need for food. Something he hadn’t been as fortunate to get. And maybe he deserved it. After all of the evil he caused, maybe this was fate’s punishment. But Agatha’s judgement, though questionable, began to consider something that maybe was pushing the bounds of her sanity even more.

Abandoning the bird for the time being, she made her way back into their temporary housing. Dracula was still fast asleep--he was odd like that, how deeply or not his slumbering was. Retrieving one of the jars she used for water, she returned outside. There truly was no means to prepare her hand for what she planned. Nothing to clean it with--she was out of water. But taking her arrow, the blood from the bird now smeared down her pant’s leg, she sliced her palm wide open and held it over the jar. 

It burned. Ached. Maybe she’d gone too far. Too deep. And as her blood flowed, she half expected Dracula to be roused from his sleep and attack her simply because he was in such dire need of the crimson fluid. But instead, everything was still silent. She bit her lip, her eyes pricked with tears as the bleeding thankfully began to stop on its own. A good sign that maybe she had injured herself too horribly. Careful not to spill a drop, she tore off a piece of her sleeve and bound her cut hand.

If there was to be a good deed done, this would certainly qualify for Agatha. That was, at least for today. 

                                                     XXX

“Well out of all outcomes, I certainly didn’t expect this!”

Agatha’s nostrils flared as Dracula, though his eyes burned that frightening shade of black with hunger, did not take the jar immediately from her. Instead, he stared at her hand looking equally as upset. When he reached out to take it, she yanked it back almost tempted to spill the blood all over the floor. 

“Well out of all the outcomes, Agatha, I can’t say I expected you to slice your hand open for me!” He tried to grab for it again, this time managing to catch her wrist. “Let me see it. Did you even try to clean it?” 

“Why can’t you just drink the blood?” Agatha sighed as he studied the wound. “I was trying to be nice. You talk about being oh so thirsty all of the time and craving me during sex. Well, this is what you want, yes? A true taste of me?”

“Not when it involves you injuring yourself!” The Count let out a dramatic huff. “You’re lucky this isn’t too terribly deep. As I recall, you need both hands for your weapon. We’ll have to watch it and make sure it doesn’t get infected.” The vampire shook his head. “And you went behind my back and took my sleep shift.” 

“I was enjoying the daylight!” Agatha hissed, now getting annoyed. “And I caught myself something to eat! I didn’t have to rely on someone else! Not to mention be appreciative of it!” She slid the jar over, watching Dracula’s Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the liquid whishing within. 

Then, without another word, Dracula lifted up the cup and gulped down the contents in less than a second. When he set it down, his eyes fixed on Agatha and a chill ran down her spine. Cold. Hungry. Lack of recognition. She could hear the vampire’s breathing becoming heavier as he moved closer. Was this it then? Had she given him a wine tasting that led to the draining of the whole bottle. 

“D...Dracula?”

Her voice was soft, shaking as she scooted backwards. She looked around the room for any sort of weapon in arm’s reach. Conveniently, his saber was on the opposite wall to her and the bow and arrows were out of sight. Agatha swallowed and tried to remain calm. If this was truly the end, she’d rather it’d be by his doing than that of one of those creatures. Instinctively her eyes closed as he loomed over her, the former nun waiting for his attack when a pair of arms pulled her in. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gruff, breathing more labored than intense. “I’m okay…” 

Agatha looked up only to come face to face with Dracula. She could see her own blood smeared across his lips, smelled it's strange rusty scent. How that was appetizing to the vampire, she did not know. 

“I thought…” She began, quite unsure what to say. “After you drank my blood, I thought that you would…” 

“Given our current circumstances, my ability to remain in control might be a little rustier than I thought.” He gave her a small smirk. “I suppose it was a good thing that I didn’t bite you during sex. Could’ve led to a less than pleasurable end.” He was silent for a moment. “Thank you. For your blood. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” Agatha said simply. “I wanted to.”

“And I must say, you are quite gifted with your weapon abilities.” The vampire said with a small smile. “Abraham, though we had our...differences...trained you well. Though, I have to admit you were pretty talented with that Pattern 1853 Enfield of his. Where did it come across a rifle-musket like that? Couldn’t have been easy, especially due to the legality of it.”

“I think we should make a new rule now that you’ve consumed by blood.” Agatha said, folding her arms over her chest. “You don’t bring up any details you’ve received from my blood--unless, of course, I offer them up in conversation.”

“Pity.” Dracula said, letting out a fake, long sigh. “I have so many.” 

“You should have thought about that beforehand.” The former nun exclaimed. “Questions that go unanswered can be such a bother.”

“Like an ex nun wielding a gun better than the average soldier.” The vampire replied, with a small, lopsided grin. 

“Careful.” Agatha warned. “I might’ve not had practice in a few years, but I am rather sure that if I were to pick up a said rifle of my choice, my aim would be fairly decent.” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “You should finish dressing. The sun has set enough for us to leave.”

Though she knew that their decision was the right one, part of Agatha didn’t want to leave the shack. Despite how messy and unkempt it was, it had proven to be safe. But staying anywhere too long, they had learned, didn’t always end up so. The former nun exhaled and glanced towards the rotting door and tried to push past what horrors awaited them. 

                                                     XXX

“La naiba!” Dracula cursed in his native tongue as he peered over the hill. “Trebuie să glumești…” 

“Maybe speak in English?” Agatha said from his side. “Ik spreek een klein beetje Nederland.” She hoped that her attempt at light humor would cause him to smile, but the serious expression did not leave his face. “What is it?” 

“A horde.” He hissed under his breath. “By the main entrance into the shipyard.” 

“Can you tell how many?” She replied, straining her eyes. Agatha could see movement from down below, but not much else. “...Do you think there is anyone even alive?” 

“At least ten.” Dracula answered, trying to hide the defeat in his tone. “And I don’t know. Not with a group like that lurking about. And who knows how many are separated from the main herd? We could try to kill them and then look around.” He turned to meet Agatha’s stare. “I am far as one can be from a man of prayer and I know you are unique in your beliefs, but we could really use one of your mystique rituals...without a cross would be appreciated.” His attempt at a failed joke. 

“We’ve come all this way.” Agatha said, moving to grab her bow. “We might as well try.” A small grin flickered across her features. “I should’ve taken the gun from my grandfather. My brother never learned to shoot anyway.” 

Together, as quietly as they could, Dracula and Agatha slid down the hill. As they moved towards the horde, other zombies began to amble out from abandoned buildings. Their moves were quick, swift in killing the creatures before they could alert the others. When they drew nearer, the vampire grabbed the former nun by the forearm and pulled her in close. 

“Fall back a little and find higher ground. That way you can aim better. I’ll be fine down here.” She didn’t seem so keen on the idea as he placed a kiss on her lips. “Go. Now.” 

Agatha’s footfalls were soft against the dirt ground. When she stopped in her tracks, she glanced around at the sight before her. How could anyone be left alive after this? It was then she saw a pile of rubble against a collapsed building. Perfect. But just as Agatha approached her access point, she was caught off guard by a zombie. The creature made a grab for her and knocked her flat on her back. The former nun struggled, gritting her teeth as she shoved it off. With a powerful smack, she struck it with an arrow through the head. The thing fell limp and the woman scrambled to her feet. 

Heart still pounding, Agatha shook her head and looked towards the direction of the horde. Dracula hadn’t seen what had just occurred and for that she was thankful. Refocusing on the house, she made her way to the debris and scrambled up. It was then she realized that while the vampire had a point about her having a higher shooting range, making him out in the midst of the ravage was too risky. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he damn well needed her if he didn’t want to end up...something other than his usual “undead”. 

“Agatha!” Dracula snapped in surprise as a zombie’s head collided with his shoe. “What the hell are you doing?!” “Saving you!” The woman declared, aiming her bow towards one of the creatures. “Clearly you need it.” 

“I told you to go up somewhere high!” He insisted, lobbing off another head. “For once can you listen to me?!”

“You forget I don’t have night vision!” Agatha hissed, hitting a zombie straight between the eyes. “I don’t know why you worry so much about me. I--”

She didn’t realize the thing was behind her until it sunk its rotten teeth deep into her forearm. Agatha cried out in a mixture of shock and horror as blood spurted from the wound. Almost instantly the creature’s head lay at her feet, the horde now completely destroyed. A look of horror was etched across Dracula’s face. One she had never seen before. The former nun grabbed her injury tightly, her heart banging so hard that her chest ache.

Christ, she’d really screwed up.

I hope you enjoyed part one (of two)! I know it is a different kind of story! Dracula was saying in Romanian: “Dammit” and “You must be kidding” while Agatha said in Dutch: “I speak a little bit of the Netherlands (or Dutch).” Anyway, feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Motivation helps so much! Until the next part! Stay safe and healthy! -Jen

[bebepac]

Food Fail (Happy Birthday Robin! 2020)

This is the first time I’ve ever written a birthday Fic and it’s in honor of a friend of mine @dcbbw​​ !!!!  Happy Birthday my friend!!!!!!  

When I first joined the fandom back in January, when I was searching for fics to read, she was one of the first people when I searched that came across.   I started reading her stories.  When I wanted to  write my own, and was nervous and anxious, she helped give me the confidence to write. 

She’s a very talented writer, and is incredibly humble.  I am happy to call you my friend.  I really hope you have a wonderful day today. 

So I wrote this about a food you do not like.  SUSHI.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! 

I hope you enjoy it.  See what I did there.  LOL!!!!!!

I used my characters from Pops Place, as you can tell.

I also used @shitthepizza​​​ About Pizza prompt # 5:  “I am always in the mood for pizza,” which will appear in bold.

Jaiden Brooks is my own character, all other characters belong to Pixelberry. 

This is not the next chapter of Pops Place.  But it fits into the series.  To check out the series Pop's Place Masterlist

Summary:  Mia goes out with the gang for dinner.  

Warnings:  Profanity.  That’s pretty much it.

Word Count: 1202

Tagging: @queenjilian​ @bbrandy2002​ @indiacater​ @janezillow​  @islandcrow​ @mom2000aggie​ @gkittylove99​ @gabesmommie1130​ @sophie-and-shizuku​​ @kingliam2019​​ @queenwalton​​ @cordonia-gothqueen​​ @texaskitten30​​  @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​​ @lodberg​​ @hopefulmoonobject​​ @kimmiedoo5​​ @sanchita012​​  @mrsdrakewalkerblog​​ @cordonianroyalty​​ @batgirlassociationofgothamcity​​ @hopelessromanticmonie​​ @marietrinmimi​​ @blueaster-blog1​​ @lovablegranny​​ @ac27dj​​ @classylady1234​​ @loudbluebirdlover​​ @atha68​​ @nikkis1983​​ @furiousherringoperatortoad​​ @sevenfuckslefttogive​​ @ladyangel70​​ @burnsoslow​​ @axwalker​​ @debramcg1106​​ @marshmallowsandfire​​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

Song Inspiration for this fic:  “Milkshake” by Kelis

https://youtu.be/pGL2rytTraA

I don’t own rights to the music. or quoted lyrics later on.  

"Hey if you want to, you and Daniel can meet me at Pop's and we can ride together downtown."

"Oh my GOD Jaiden thanks!!! I absolutely hate driving in downtown Raleigh with all the one way streets and parallel parking."

"But Mia, you seriously have the smallest car in the world to parallel park."

"It's North Carolina, not New York, no one parallel parks here, you pull in. I didn't have to parallel park for my driving test."

"Well I'm from New York and we parallel park."

"Well you go right ahead Mr. New Yorker!"

"Then I will show you how it's done Miss Southern Belle, after we …. He cleared his throat and continued in the worst southern drawl ever, “drink sweet tea and eat apple cobbler in the parlor Ma'am.”

Mia burst out laughing.  

“Shut up! You know I’m not like that, and I definitely don’t sound like that.”  

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand your dialect.”  

“YOU TALKING TO ME?”  Mia said in her best Robert De Niro voice.  

Daniel looked at the two of them bickering back and forth. He looked surprised. 

 “Hmmm… that was pretty good.”  Jaiden said to her nodding.  “You could get by in the city with that.”  

“Thank you.”  Mia flashed him a smile.  

“So, I'll pick you guys up around 6:20?"

"That's perfect."

When they were in the car.  She kept noticing Daniel staring at her.  

“Whaaaaat?”

“Um… so are you going to tell me what that was, or do I have to guess?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Girl…..“

“Daniel What?!?!?!”

“Are you and Jaiden a thing?”  

“Uh no. We’re just friends.”

Daniel gave her a look.

“I don’t flirt with my friends like that.”  Daniel raised his eyebrow at Mia again.

“We were not flirting.”  

“You two are definitely something-ing because, I could cut the tension with a machete.”

“Nuh uh.. It’s not even like that Daniel.”

“I’m just saying Mia, you need a theme song for this summer, and I got just the one.”

Mia smirked at him.

“Mia’s milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like, it’s better than yours, damn right it’s better than yours, I could teach you, but I have to charge.”

“Okay Daniel.”  

“You better wear something cute for your bae.”  

“He’s not my Bae.”

“Okay, then he’s a friend that definitely wants to see you naked.  Girl, can I live vicariously through you this summer? Cuz you’re pulling all the men so far.”  

“Yeah and they all the winners,  “Drake: I have a long distance girlfriend, but yeah let’s hang out too,  and Liam: Mr. I’m pretty sure you did something shady to get me to look your way and discredit Drake but he screwed that up on his own.”

“And Leo: Mr. I have given you a nickname but no one else can use it, and let’s get you crazy drunk.”    

“Okay… already let’s get you home so we can get ready and get back for dinner.”

When they arrived  back right around 6:15, they pulled up seeing Jaiden leaning against his jeep.  

As they walked up to  Jaiden’s jeep she heard Daniel softly singing.

“La - la - la - la - laaaaaa… the boy is waiting….”

She punched Daniel.  

“Should I even ask?” Jaiden looked at the two of them.

“No you should not.”

He opened the door for Mia letting her get into the car. 

“Your jeep is nice.”  

“Thanks, it took me getting straight A’s and graduating 3rd in my class to get it.”  

“So you’ll be at Cordonia U in the fall then?”

“Why would you think that?”  

“Because you live in Prestonwoods.”

“Yeah, I don’t get all that you’re either Prestonwoods or you’re everyone else crap.  We actually toured both.  I liked Hartfeld better.  That’s where I’ll be this fall.”  

“Me too.”  

“Cool.”  He glanced in Mia’s direction.  Mia was wearing a red  dress and white sandals.  She looked really cute.  

“Watch and learn Mia.”  

Jaiden flawlessly parallel parked between two cars.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”  

“You know what… I’m locking you in the car.  I’ll go enjoy dinner with Daniel. You’ll have air and sadness for dinner Mia.” Jaiden laughed.  Mia couldn’t help her smile on her face.

“Oh my god!!!!  Air and Sadness?!?!  I really like you Jaiden.  You put her in her place.”  Daniel chuckled.  “Mia needs a guy that is as funny as she is.”  

Daniel noticed them both stare at each other in silence.  

Yep… he thought… there are definite sparks there.

“I’ll get the door for you Mia.”  

“Where are we meeting everyone at? I’m starving.”  

“Sushi Blues Cafe.”

“Sushi…. As in raw fish?”  

“There are cooked sushi rolls.  Have you had sushi?”

“I’ve never tried it.. I like my fish fried and battered, with tartar sauce, and either lemon juice or vinegar, thanks to Pops.”  

“So I’ll get a Philadelphia roll,  it’s cooked  with smoked salmon, avocado, cream cheese. Most people who are newbies to sushi like it.  So I'll share mine with you. I’ll get two so if you like it, you can have your own.”  

When they got into the restaurant the only seats left were on the end of the table.  Daniel sat in the next to the last seat, and Mia sat on the end being left handed, and Jaiden sat across from her.  She noticed everyone else was there.  Hana, Penelope, Maxwell, Olivia, Leo, Rashad, Neville, and Liam.  No Drake.  He probably doesn’t do Sushi.   Can’t blame him.  They passed out menus.  Mia looked nervous.  She ordered a green tea, and when the server came back for her food order, she couldn’t remember what roll Jaiden said he was going to get.

“She’s with me,” Jaiden said.  “We’ll get two philly rolls.”  

She smiled at him.  “Thank you,” she mouthed to him.

“You’re welcome.”  he whispered back.

She stared at her plate.

She poked a piece of the sushi.

“It’s not going to attack you, Mia.”  

“And this is cooked?”

“Yeah.”  

“You’re sure?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Do you like spicy stuff?”

“Not really.”

“So that green stuff, stay away from that then. That’s wasabi.”  

“Ginger?”

“Meh…”

“Yeah, we won’t mess with that either then.”  

“So put some soy sauce on a piece.”  

Mia mimicked him.

“And just one big bite. Eat it.”

He popped it in his mouth and chewed.  

“It’s good, now your turn.”  

Mia did as he did.  She dry heaved.  

Jaiden almost fell out of his chair, because of the look on Mia’s face.  It was clear…. Mia was not a fan of sushi. Both Jaiden and Daniel both were roaring in laughter.  

“Chew it up, or spit it out.  Do something Mia!!!!”

Liam looked in their direction in all the ruckus they were causing.  Liam wished he was sitting with Mia, they looked to be having so much fun.  

Mia managed to swallow the piece of sushi.

“Want another then?”  Jaiden  asked seriously for a second, then burst into laughter again.  

“No thanks.  I’d almost would have rather had the air and sadness, you offered earlier.” 

When it was time to leave and the check was passed out, Jaiden paid for Mia’s share even though she didn’t really eat anything.

They walked  down the street together.  

“So… how about a pizza?” Jaiden asked.

“I’m always in the mood for pizza.”  

“Let’s go get you some dinner then Mia.”  

Mia smiled as Jaiden led the way back to his vehicle.

[lupienne]

The Reality - Negan and Lucille

Hey guys, here’s a little Halloween fic of Negan and Lucille. I started it like two years ago and never felt motivated to finish it. So I finally sat down today on Halloween and wrote the end of it, and while I’m not really happy with it... whatever. Here it is anyway! I think it’s kind of bittersweet, but that’s just me. 

-

The Reality

Gourds were on porches, leaves on the ground, and the stores were filled with pumpkin-flavored everything. The crisp air was a slap to the lungs, in a good way.

I'd always loved Fall, and I'd always looked forward to Halloween. That night when reality wavered on the edge. When you could be dark or light, the opposite of yourself – when you could be anything for just a few hours.

I hadn't been a fan of the days passing by lately. Dread sat like a tumor in my stomach.

The reality was... that reality fucking sucked.

I watched my breath puff out white as I came home on Thursday. Maybe it wouldn't fucking rain this Halloween. We might get snow instead.

After dinner, I polished off a few apple cider donuts, then settled on the couch to watch TV with Lucille. She was quiet and sleepy-eyed as the clock ticked towards my bedtime. The holiday was days away, falling right splat on a Saturday.

“Tony said he found some fuckin' booze flavored like Candy Corn. I hope that's not all he's gonna have, because that's gross as fuck.” I yawned. “What do you think I should dress as? Fuck, I shouldn't have waited until the last minute.”

We always attended Tony Synder's party down the block. I wasn't really crazy about the guy, but I'm not gonna pass up free food or secretly laughing at the neighbor's costumes. (I always looked fucking amazing.) I liked to switch up my style, but Lucille usually dressed as a witch. And not some sloppy, warty green hag...but a hot fucking witch. Her slim figure in a black corset, her tits pushed up, her cascade of black curls falling over one eye. In years past, we'd come home from that party partly drunk and ripping each other's costumes off as we stumbled through the door. God damn. I was almost getting hard thinking of it.

Almost. The past few years, Lucille had me at arm's reach and I couldn't blame her. I was shit, I was an unfaithful piece of shit, but she-

That shit didn't matter anymore.

“He-Man,” she said with a chuckle. “I want to see you rocking that little leather harness.”

“Goddamn, that's right on the edge of indecent exposure. Isn't he practically naked?”

“Why do you think I suggested it?”

“I would make a hot blond.” I slid closer to her, and she nestled against my side. “You gonna be my Bewitching Beauty as always?”

She was quiet for so long I thought she'd fallen asleep.

“...think I'm gonna sit this one out.”

“But why?”

“I don't know. Just not up to it, I guess. But you go, have fun. Maybe you'll find a hot date.”

I swallowed hard. After everything....I couldn't laugh at those types of jokes.

“...Stop that shit. You're the only hot date I want. I don't wanna go alone. We don't have to stay long.”

“Look, Negan, they won't want me there.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Tony adores you, which is why I ain't his biggest fan, cause I know he's always wanted to stick his dick in you-”

She let out a laugh that was more of a scoff. “Doubt he feels that way now. Nobody wants a dying woman at their party, making things awkward.”

I felt like I'd been punched in the goddamn balls. My stomach went to my throat and I roiled with sudden nausea. Eyes burning with acid. I fought it, I fought it motherfuckin' hard . My jaw clenched like I was in rigor mortis, my body shuddering.

“Don't...don't say fucking shit like that.”

She nudged my ribs. “God, calm down, Negan. What about this, huh? I don't have any hair.”

“It's Hallo-fucking-ween. Everyone is wearing a motherfuckin' wig right now. You'll fit right in.”

She leaned her head on my arm. “I'm tired. I'll think about it. Ok?”

That meant no. But it wasn't official yet, so I was gonna stop at the party store and buy that fucking He-Man getup and the best witch wig I could find. She'd change her mind right quick once she saw me in that loincloth.

As she went to bed, I stared out the window at the orange light of our Jack-o-lantern. The nausea had settled back into my bones. A constant undercurrent, moving through my veins like poisoned blood.

Too many tricks, life. Not enough treats.

---

Friday night. I stopped at the party store. The cashier rung up my purchases, then looked me over with a twinkle in her eye. I refused to be flattered – ok, I was kind of fucking flattered. The wig for Lucille was the most expensive they had. If you squinted, it looked nearly like her natural spill of curls.

At home, I put my hand on the package, and felt a rush of fucking darkness come over me. I had to fucking sit there, like so many nights, fighting the thoughts that stung like needles. If I let them keep stinging, the tears would come – the fucking breakdown would follow.

So I fought it. I shut it down. I fucking locked it up, because Lucille doesn't like it when I fall apart – and why should she? I'm the man. I'm supposed to be her rock. She hates it when I cry. I hate it when I cry.

So I fucking smiled when I walked in the door. I smelled Chinese food. Lucille was already piling mine onto a plate – the sweet n' sour chicken I love. All she ordered was a tub of Wonton soup. I frowned, but said nothing. At least she's eating.

She looked at the bag in my hand, and she too, said nothing. “Dinner's ready. And I rented some Halloween movies.”

We ate and watched Child's Play and Micheal Myers and a leprechaun who makes bad jokes. I didn't mention the costume or the party, but I knew I'd be going alone. I spend the last movie wondering how I'll excuse my wife's absence, and how the fuck I'm gonna endure the pity in their eyes. It fucking pissed me off. That they're putting her in the ground already. That she's putting herself there.

“Honey,” she rubbed my tense arm. “You ok?”

“Yeah, babe. Just...indigestion.”

And damn this woman, she got up to make me a cup of peppermint tea. I sat there numb, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do without her.

----

“By the POWER OF GRAYSCALE, behold my glorious sword! ...and by sword, I mean dick.” I adjusted He-Man's fake-fur loincloth. Played with it, flipped it around. I wore some black boxers under it, but I was still worried about...slippage. I looked so fucking ridiculous.

I slid on the blond bob wig, examining the hot mess in the mirror. “Haha, oh yeah! What a fine motherfucker. Jesus H Christ. I am a glutton for punishment. Ok, babe. I'm decent! Come check me out before I head over there!”

“It's Grayskull, not Grayscale. Get it right, Negan.”

The bedroom door swung open and my mouth dropped. My Lucille stood there, the black wig cascading over her shoulders. Her body, slimmer than ever, hugged by a slinky black dress and purple corset. Glitter dusted her chest and cheeks.

“Goddamn, woman.”

“I couldn't miss out on that Candy Corn booze.”

I smiled, but we both knew she wouldn't be drinking that. She'd be spending the night over the toilet. I had to banish that thought fuckin' quick. She already spends too many nights over the toilet.

“I'll taste test it for you first. Let you know exactly how fucking disgusting it is.”

-

We headed down the block, passing early Trick-or-Treaters. The rain had come after all, but merely presented as a pathetic drizzle. The mist in the air diffused the street lamps into yellow balls of light. I wish I'd brought my coat to drape over Lucille's bare shoulders. Spooky music played from our elderly neighbor's house and he waved at us. Lucille waved back.

Tony's yard had become a graveyard of cardboard tombstones and dry ice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucy shiver.

“Want me to go back and grab a coat?”

“Don't be dumb. We're almost there.”

On the porch, Tony's tween kid sat in a lawn chair with a bowl of candy. No costume, how quaintly rebellious. She looked bored as fuck until we rolled up, and then she snickered openly. Dear fucking God. I hoped my loincloth was in place. My nipples were like fucking pebbles on either side of the plastic harness. I quickly banged on the door.

Tony opened it. “Negan! And Lucille! Very nice, very nice. Love the costume, although I'd never call you a witch. Or anything rhyming with it.”

We did an obligatory laugh. The tween rolled her eyes.

“You look cold, Negan. Better step inside. I got the lager ready to go.” Tony had the same damn smirk as his kid.

“Why did you pick this costume for me again?” I muttered. We passed through the entryway strung with a beaded curtain of bats and spiders. The living room was bathed in red light and Monster Mash blasted from the stereo. Tony's wife always went all-out with this shit. A skeleton sat in the armchair and fake cobwebs were every-fucking-where. I hoped the dry ice didn't affect Lucy's breathing.

Wifey Tanya came over, hugging Lucille and complimenting our costumes. I glanced down, wondering how they saw her. Did they know the shadowed eyes and gaunt cheeks weren't make-up? Did they notice the weight she'd lost?

I still saw beauty. The cut flower, vibrant and blooming –just don't think of the future, the withering-

Freeze that shit in time. I closed my ears to nothing but the soundtrack of screams and creaking doors, back-lit with the wailing of ghosts. Party guest voices blabbered over it all. We melted into the past. It was another party like the parties of years before. Slightly pathetic in that 'thirty-something's hanging out' kind of way. Laughing too loud. Secretly sizing each other up.

At least the lime green jello shots were good.

So yeah, it was just another lame party, and because of that, it wasn't. Because for a while...we were normal. Lucille laughed. I saw her smiling. Within her costume, she wasn't the Sick One. She was the mischievous witch, mingling with devils and cowboys and kitty cats.

Mrs Tillerman from school was there. She drank too much of that nasty Candy Corn atrocity. I caught her checking me out and I felt – for maybe the first time ever – ashamed. Other women looked at me too, making slightly-tipsy comments in my direction. I was glad Lucille was across the room, no doubt bored out of her mind listening to Ms Crouch talk about her fucking kids. And by kids, I mean her cats.

“Mmm, hello, He-Man. Nice sword. Remember that time after school?” Mrs Tillerman, winking and nudging.

“Sorry, He-Man has no fucking recollection of that.”

She'd sucked my dick once. Just once. That was really enough for me. I think I'd only allowed it because I could. Now, I saw what a fucking piece of trash I was. Hopefully, when she sobered up, she would too.

“You don't?” She took another swig from her solo cup and let out a burp. I quickly turned her in the direction of the bathroom. Just in time, because Lucille was drifting my way.

“Motherfuckin' crowd is getting drunk. There's probably going to be barf in the apple-bobbin' water. As if bobbing for apples isn't fucking gross enough.” I had to yell as The Addam's Family theme blasted from the speakers.

“Yeah.” She looked pale under the glitter.

“You had enough?”

I knew she had. We'd done it, we'd made our appearance, we'd given proof of life. I squeezed her hand, then found our host. I was tired, had papers to grade, been a great party...you know the bullshit, Tony.

-

We walked home silently. I wanted to ask how she was feeling. It was a lump in my throat. She'd probably just be annoyed. Say I was worrying too much. Say she was fine.

The warm glow of our porch washed over us. It sparkled the glitter on her cheeks, flushed pink from the cold. I wanted badly to kiss her. Instead, I fumbled in my He-Man boot for the house key.

Kids screamed and laughed on the street, swinging their bags of candy. It was just another Halloween in a long line of them, stretching out into our future. Maybe ten years from now, our kid would join the others.

Tomorrow, I wouldn't think like this. But tonight – fucking dammit, I was going to pretend we had years ahead of us.

I got the door open, got us in, shut it against the chill.

“Fuck. Don't know if that was worth going to. You have fun?”

The orange glow filtered in through the glass panel of our front door. Moonlight through the windows, silvering the interior. Everything was dark, but sharply edged with white. Lucille turned to face me. She discarded her witch's hat, the wig – no...her hair, looking real and soft and luscious, spilling onto her shoulders. She slowly drew one hand up my naked stomach and my skin shivered under the touch.

“He-Man,” she rasped. “I've put you under my spell.”

“Lucille...?”

“It's Lucianna. Maiden of the Night. And I've cast my spell upon you.”

I imagined she'd gotten that crap from those dumb novels she liked to read. The ones with guys who wished they were as hot as me on the cover. “Oh yeah? What spell is that?”

Her hand drifted under my loincloth. I let out a breath. Shit. I hadn't felt her touch me there for weeks.

“The spell of Lust. I'm irresistible to you.”

She didn't need a spell for that.

She rose to her tiptoes, her cold arms against my chest. “...Negan. Make love to me. “

“...but...Lucille...”

It's too strenuous for you. You'll be tired. I'm afraid I'll hurt you -

She didn't look tired. Her eyes were dark and wide, her skin sparkling. The chilled hands sliding under the plastic harness were strong and sure. Her lips hungrily pressed to my chin. “...Don't resist me, He-Man. Give me this night – a Halloween like we used to have.”

I fucking melted like the half-frozen rain under the burning Halloween moon. What could I do?

“By the power of Grayscale, I pull forth my sword, Lucianna!”

“That's Grayskull, He-man!” She laughed as I backed her to the couch, my hands fumbling at her corset. “Ooh, that's such a big sword you have. You sure you can lift that thing up?”

“Witch, I'm gonna impale you so fuckin' deep with my hard steel. You just fuckin' wait.”

“Oh, I'm waiting, but you still have your clothes on.”

Heh. Good thing He-Man was half-fucking-naked already. The witch was helpless to my brute strength as I lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.

-

To be honest, there wasn't anything rough or hard about it. Even on devil's night, I had to maintain some sense of restraint. My hands gently stroked ribs under frail skin, planted kisses onto delicate shoulders and licked along a ridge of collarbone. Lucianna, my withering flower, her beauty stretched across bones.

Her hands, digging hard into my shoulders, her legs, wrapping me like squeezing pythons – well, they felt anything but weak.

After, we lay breathing and nestled together. The light outside came and went, broken up by drifting clouds. Lucille's sharpened features were softened. Her wig was still on and still looked real as fuck – money well spent. Her eyes, half-lidded, were tired, but tired in a good fucking way.

“Not a bad fucking Halloween, huh, Lucy?”

“Pretty damn good fucking Halloween,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes, and I watched her, drowsing there in the dark. Her spell was slowly melting away; her magic could only veil the truth so long.

But for a few hours, reality shifted and wavered on the edge. She was alive, she was here, and we would spend our nights beside each other, just like this.

For just the brief span of our last Halloween night, I could have it. It was my reality.

And the reality was... that reality was fucking great.

[clevernewdimension]

Stress Relief (M)

Your best friend Minseok surprises you after a 'ruff' day at work with just a couple of friends.

Word Count: 5.7K

AN: So... anyone ordered an EXO/Reader train? Yes? Good.

Somehow I never expected my day to end like this. But let’s rewind a bit first. It was a semi typical day for me. My job as a veterinarian is never boring, after all. However, it seemed like the bad news just piled on and on and on. First my car wouldn’t start, so I ended up calling a cab which cost me more money than I wanted it to. Thankfully, a friend who is a mechanic worked on it after I had it towed to his shop. The bill was going to be a lot more than I wished, even after the ‘friends and family’ discount. That was just the beginning of my day, too. Before my shift started, I went to get a coffee from the coffee shop my best friend owns down the street only for some stranger to run into and spill his extremely hot coffee on me. Then got chewed out by the asshole who was watching his phone instead of where he was going. Thankfully my best friend was there to save me. Minseok looked annoyed as the man kept ranting as he left. He looked me over, shaking his head as he motioned me to follow him to his office where he had a spare tee for me to borrow. Faded and fairly old with a logo of a drive in theater that is, sadly, going out of business. The place he and I would spend our Friday nights after school.

We’ve been best friends since middle school. Dated in high school because we thought that’s what everyone wanted for us, so why not try. It just… felt a bit odd. There was the love of friendship but nothing deeper than that, but we dated for years just to see if it would ever click. It didn’t. Broke up but remained friends after graduating. Then, during university, became friends with benefits. That part of our relationship is still going. He’s even introduced me to some of his friends whom I’ve also taken into my bed on the regular.

No jealousy. No strings. Just fun. Though we both did say that if we’re single at the age of thirty-five we’ll get married for the benefits. We both could use those insurance discounts.

After the coffee, I had to take a call to a farm to check on a pregnant cow. Sad to say that the baby had died and we had to well… take it out before it started to rot in her. Very awful and gruesome, I’ll spare you the details because it makes me want to puke when I’m not actually having to help the poor animal. After I got back, took a shower at the office (Which they have for us to use, since this job can be very messy) and returned to see some bad news. A regular dog, Skip, had to be put down. He was old, and had a cancer that we tried to fight. His owner didn’t want him to suffer anymore after he would no longer eat any food. Skip left peacefully and surrounded by people who love him. I cried all thought lunch as I ate a pint of ice cream in sadness that I bought at the gas station down the road. Skip was the first animal I saw after getting the job. He meant a lot to me.

I unfortunately had to give some kittens some shots after that, and the crying broke my heart but it was for their own good. The loss of Skip weighing on my mind as I look at a text from Minseok.

‘Any plans tonight?’

I shake my head to myself, answering immediately.

‘No. Need something to take my mind off work. You offering?’

‘Yeah. Got something really special for you. You gotta work tomorrow? 🍎’

I smile, seeing the little apple emoji. That was our code for sex in text. Use to be the word apple in high school.

‘Nope. I’m free. Do your worst, and I mean it.’

All he sent me after that was a devil emoji. After that, I helped with the surgery to help a dog that was hit by a car. That took up the rest of my afternoon, but in the end the dog, Lilly Bean, will be fine. Weird name, but she was really cute and I was happy at least something went well today.

I left, went and ate a quick dinner at a small restaurant down the street. Pigged out because I fucking deserve it after this day. I smiled at the owner, thanking them for the meal before going to Minseok’s cafe. He drove me to his place, seeming nervous the whole time.

When he opened his door, what I saw made my eyes wide. Before he could even ask I said yes.

Which is how I’m here. My ankles tied to my thighs with them tied down to the table beneath me. My arms tied over my head and to the table so I can’t move them too. A ball gag in my mouth, clamps on my nipples and a vibrator tied to my clit so that no matter how much I try, I can’t escape the little vibrations from it as it was on the lowest setting.

I’m already completely wet, soaking as I was moaning, biting the ball gag in my mouth gently. Now, this would be pretty normal, which wouldn’t come close to what Minseok meant by ‘special’.

What was special was the fact that he and all our mutual friends I casually fuck are there, watching me. Their eyes hungry, some naked as they try to figure out who gets the pleasure of going first. Nine men playing rock paper scissors to see who fucks me first made me a little proud, not going to lie.

I wasn’t paying attention as they figured out the order. But smiled around the ball in my mouth seeing Chanyeol stepping up first. Chanyeol, the one who was the mechanic who worked on my car this morning. My first time with Chnayeol had been at an engagement part of one of our mutual friends. Everyone outside while we hid away in the laundry room. He bent me over the dryer and made me cum with a hand clamped down over my mouth. I see him smirk, the tattoos on his arm flexing as he takes off his shirt. Soon he was naked, two fingers dipping into my wet pussy as his hand moves up and down on his cock a bit.

He smirks, “God you’re so pretty like this. Legs open wide for the taking. You want my cock, hm?”

I try to yell yes, moaning as his fingers curled up. Those long fingers that I saw playing guitar at the party just minutes after having been in me. They felt good in the best possible way. It didn’t last as he smiles hearing me say yes, before he places the head of his cock right at my opening.

“You know what we’re doing, right,” He asks, fingers softly caressing the very peaks of my nipples, feeling so good. I whined at the sensation, the pain from the clamps makes me shiver. “We’re going to make you into a mess. We’re all gonna cum in you, fill you up completely.”

I nod enthusiastically. I’ve dreamed about doing this. Just the though of a line of men fucking me one after the other, fucking me though another mans cum made me so hot. I’ve mentioned it to Minseok, but never acted on it since it just seemed too out of reach.

He pressed into me, not slow but not quick either. My head falls back, feeling so full as he bottoms out. He leans forward, hand curling around my neck as he just groans. “God, Baby,” He says, “You feel so good without a condom.”

“Please,” I try to say, before I feel him pull his hips back and buck forward. The motion sent my eyes rolling back. I see him reach with one of his arms behind me. I feel him undo the gag, tossing it aside.

“I want to hear you,” He says, thrusting in hard and slow.

“Chanyeol,” I moan, looking him in the eyes as he tightens a hand around my neck, applying the right kind of pleasure. We’re lucky Minseok lives a bit out the city. Large house, no one around for a few miles to hear us. Perks of his trust fund baby life.

“Is it ok if I slap your face,” He asks, another hard thrust that sends me gasping.

“Yes,” I nod, looking at him with wide eyes.

The smack was loud, but not all that hard as I look at him. “Call me Daddy,” He commands me, his pace getting a bit faster.

“Daddy,” I whine, “Please fuck me harder, Daddy!”

“Is that what my baby wants,” He asks, another smack to the face, this time harder.

“Yes Daddy,” I yell, “I want you to fuck me hard! I want Daddy’s cum so badly!”

“Fuck,” Chanyeol says, groaning as I see him finally lose himself. He was thrusting wildly, not even giving a damn about my pleasure as he knows even if he doesn’t make me cum, one of the eight waiting will. The sound of skin slapping skin made me writhe as I just chanted Daddy. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine, tongue immediately in my mouth as he groaned, hips faltering.

I could feel the warmth of his release in me as he takes ragged breaths. He smiles at me, kissing me before looking behind him, “Get ready, I don’t want her losing any of it!”

He left, and immediately thrusting his dick into me was Jongdae.

Jongdae and I met at an event where his singing students were performing. My niece loved to sing and Minseok suggested his friend who teaches. She went from an above average singer to one going in competitions in just under a year. After her first performance under his tutelage, I went up to him and thanked him, offering to get him a drink since he did such a wonderful job with my niece. Somehow that lead to the two of us going to the closest motel and getting so loud people banged on the walls. I went home very satisfied with a few bruises from his teeth.

He leaned forward, lips kissing and biting at my chest as he starts thrusting hard. No time for soft and slow. His tongue brushing over my extremely sensitive nipples that were still in the clamps. “Jongdae,” I moaned, just as he bites harshly into the side of my breast.

One of his hands pushes the vibrator down on my clit, making my head go back with a yell. “Cum for me,” He says in my ear, “Let me feel you cum all around me.”

It was ripped from me, my body shaking and ever nerve feeling completely awake. He takes off one of the nipple clamps, making me cry of pain and pleasure as he licks and sucks it harshly. “Fuck,” I yell, my eyes watering as he bites again.

His hips speed up and soon, he was groaning and whining in my neck before one last long moan. He takes a moment to gather himself, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He looks back, “You ready?”

I whine feeling him leave, but smile seeing Minseok there, a small smile on his face.

I still remember our first time. This was his family’s home and they let us stay here while they went off to their vacation home. It was just him and I and his family’s staff, who would leave right after dinner. Freshman year of high school, were we’re not children but not adults yet. We’d kiss and do other stuff, but we didn’t go all the way until that night. On the roof we had put a mattress since we both loved to look at the stars. The scene was romantic but what we did wasn’t. We were dating, just starting a week or so ago. It was nice and romantic from the outside, but with really no romantic interest, we just finally let the lust get to us. We both were not really that experienced, but it didn’t stop us. We learned about it together.

Now he’s a lot better. Absolutely incredible, really. As he pushes his cock in me I moan, smirking up at him, “Oh I bet I know why you did this, hm?”

“Well if I didn’t set this up you would have never tried it,” He says with a smirk. “Fuck you’re so filthy in there. So much cum in you already.”

“I fucking love it,” I say, moaning as he starts a steady and hard pace.

“Such a dirty little slut,” He groans, shaking his head as he reaches forward, hand reaching around and gripping my hair tightly. His other hand presses the button on the vibrator, making it stronger. I yell out, my back arching as I hear him say, “Tell me how much of a dirty slut you are.”

My heart was racing, as I see Minseok’s face watching me, mouth open and small groans coming out from time to time. “I’m a dirty slut, Minnie,” I moan, biting my lip.

“You’re damn right,” He mutters, lips close to my ear as he pulls on my hair. “You’d have to be after fucking all of my friends,” He growls, “You just can’t help yourself, huh? That addicted to cock that mine isn’t enough? You needed eight more?”

I smirk, “Don’t act like you haven’t fucked some of them too. You’re about as straight as a corkscrew.”

That made him laugh before he closes his eyes, pressing kisses into my neck. Minseok groans, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Have some of them t-told you that too,” I ask, clutching my hands into fists, moving my hips as much as I could to aid in his orgasm.

He laughs, “I bet you’d love to know those details.” I hear him broan in my ear, hands gripping my hair and waist harder as I could feel him lose himself in the actions. A loud groan in my ear, his body going tense as he bit my neck, though not hard.

He takes a deep breath as I whined, wanting more. He presses a kiss to my forehead before pulling away.

Baekhyun’s smiling self grinned, pressing into my soaked heat instantly. He moans, practically whining in delight.

I remember the first time I met Baekhyun. Minseok invited me out to a bar to see his friend at a stand up show. Said that he was dared to go up there and perform. When I said that sounded like a disaster, Minsoek just laughed and said I would be surprised.

And I was. He was amazingly and shockingly funny. When Minseok introduced us, Baekhyun then had pink hair. I learned that he likes to change it often, and being a vocal coach at a very unconservative art school, it’s allowed. When he wasn’t doing that he was teaching improv classes. I went to one and he told me not to quit my day job. Ego hurt a little but I appreciate the honesty. After we went out for drinks and I learned that Baekhyun was very handsy when he was drunk, but only with people who are comfortable with him. After we were both a drunken mess having slow giggle filled sex on my living room floor. The next morning, we didn’t remember much so we ended up fucking again. Every now and then I’ll call him for drinks and sex.

His lips pressed to my lips, tongue sliding against mine. Baekhyun’s thrusts were not fast, but sensual. He lovingly pressed kisses to every inch of skin, hips making me tear up from the drastic difference between him and Minseok’s fucking. His hand reaches up, pressing his fingers to my lips. I open up, sucking on his and hear him groan.

“I’m not gonna last long,” He whines, “Fucking someone who’s completely full of cum is such a fucking turn on.”

I smile, “We’ll have to do this again.”

Baekhyun presses the vibrator to me, making he let out a yell of pleasure, his hips going faster, before I hear an even higher whine from him. His eyes squeezed shut as he bites his lip, pressing his hips completely flush to me.

Baekhyun was begin soft tonight, which was a nice break, honestly, as he pulled out.

Though, I could tell that was ending when I see Kyungsoo step up. We met after he opened a restaurant next to Minseok’s cafe. It was like fine dining quality but without having to spend an arm and a leg. One day he cocked something for me in his kitchen for dinner, inviting me in, so long as I wore a hair net and didn’t touch anything. There was something about watching him in the chaos, making something while barking orders and yelling at people slacking off. The food was divine, and watching him in his element was a bit of a turn on. I stayed and waited until he was closing, flirting a bit all the while. Apparently it had an effect as after everyone left, he pulled me into his office and fucked me against the wall. The whole time I flirted he would either not get it or look away like he was shy.

Now, though, that’s not the case. I couldn’t hide my smile as he reached up, gripping a fistful of my hair and pulled as he pushed in. Unlike everyone else in the room, he wasn’t really loud and moaning during sex. If you wanted to know if he was enjoying it, you have to see it in how he’s moving. Kyungsoo is a man of honesty. Either he’s into it or not. And right this very moment he was VERY into me, in more ways than one. His other hand came up and smacked my face. A lot harder than Chanyeol, but he knew that I was ok with it or else I’d say something. His hand that slapped me went to my chest as his lips and tongue went to my neck. I was shivering, on the edge again as his lips went to my ear.

“Don’t you dare,” He growls. “Not until I do.”

I whined, which resulted in another pull to my hair. I needed to cum so badly that I could barely hear the words he was whispering in my ear. Just for me to hear. All the names he calls me. Slut, bitch, cunt, whore, and so on as I feel his thrusts getting faster and stronger. My fingers were moving to try to grab on to anything but there was nothing as I hear his start to breathe harder. One last pull to my hair as he mutters “Cum, slut.” My eyes went back, my body shaking as we both finished together.

I didn’t get to mourn the loss of his body and his warmth for long as I see Sehun. I grin, as his fingers slide up my parted thighs. I met Sehun in college. We had a history class together Freshman year and were assigned to be partners for the three major projects all semester. We were very friendly, and both not great at the subject but made it work. The first time it crossed the line into sexual was at a party. A bit of a buzz later and Sehun and I were on the couch, half naked at four in the morning while all our closest friends were watching and cheering us on. Some people left and soon there was just three people. Two of Sehun’s friends and Minseok before we finally removed the last of the barriers and had sex. After college we’d meet occasionally. He has a night time radio show on Fridays and is a part of the morning shows the whole week minus weekends. Sometimes he’d put on a really long songs one after the other and leave the booth and meet me in my car so we could hook up while his co-workers are none the wiser.

Sex with Sehun was pretty vanilla other than he sometimes like people to watch. Other than that, it was just him liking to be praised. It’s a nice change from the many kinky people I’ve been with. I grin, looking at Sehun, “Please Sehun! I need it!”

I see him smile, a little bit of a blush. He leans forward, pressing in as he goes before his lips find mine. I moaned, feeling him go deeper and deeper before I pull away from the kiss, moaning. “Fuck, Sehun, you’re so perfect!”

“I haven’t even started,” He mutters, kissing my neck and leaving soft little bites. He smiles against my skin, before starting to move at a slower pace than before. His hands were sliding up my body slowly as I was moaning in his ear. “Sehun,” I moaned, biting his neck a little, “You fuck me so good Sehun. Your cock is so big and thick that anytime I see it I’m instantly wet.”

“Fuck,” He moans lightly.

“Your body is amazing, I wish I could wrap my arms around you and feel all of you,” I say, letting out a loud groan as his thumbs rub my nipples softly.

He started to speed up, “Tell me how much you want me.”

“Anytime I see you I want to lean back and spread my legs for you,” I whisper in his ear, “Let you go at me and fuck me until I can’t think about anything else.”

I hear him moan lightly in my ear. He was getting close.

“God sometimes I want to hide under your desk at your work and suck your cock while you’re live on air,” I say, feeling his hands move to my hips, gripping them.

“Y-yeah,” He asks, almost there.

“I imagine sucking your long cock while you’re live. Licking it like a lollipop and letting you cum on my face just before you have to come back on the air so you’re breathless as you introduce the next song or talk to a caller,” I say with a smirk.

I feel his body stiffen, as he lets out a muffled gasp. He pressed himself as close to me as possible, lips pressing against mine. I smile, giving his bottom lip a quick little bite with a wink.

I take a moment to try to catch my breath, the toy at my center fallen off a while ago from various men thrusting into me. I look forward, seeing Jongin there looking at me, a small look of worry.

“I’m ok,” I say, “Just needed a breather.”

Jongin, sweet Jongin was an absolute animal in bed in the best way possible. He works at a dance studio and helps out a lot at his family’s flower shop. One hot day during the summer I came in to place an order and he was the only one working, bare chest out to my view. I made a small little flirtatious comment about it. Perhaps it was my really short shorts or the fact that was was wearing a bathing suit top under a very thin shirt that seemed to get his interest. We had some small talk about how it was boiling hot and I made the comment that the AC was broken in my car. Jongin offered me a few minutes in the walk in refrigerator, though with a hint of something more. Soon, I was covered in almost freezing air as he set me naked in the small chair in there. Spread my legs and went to town before I put my hands against the wall, bending over as he fucked me in there. The sensation of the cool air and the burning hot of his skin was pretty intoxicating. After we got dressed, the refrigerator was being opened as I hid. It felt so naughty as his sister was talking to him, asking him about different flowers and my order. After she left, he helped me sneak out through the back door with one last slap to my ass.

He smirks, pressing into me quickly. The sound of him pushing in with the amount of cum in me was almost enough to make me drool it was so hot. His palm slapped my inner thigh, making me yelp out as he smirks, other hand tightly grabbing at my breast.

“I can feel all of their cum,” He moans, getting turned on by it. After a few hook ups Jongin told me he was Bi and really loved cum play. I was a bit shocked at first, but then nodded. It is who he is, after all. I figured if anything he would have wanted to be the last one. Jongin just looks at me and I nod. The pace was brutal. He looked on the verge of cumming already, but one hand gripped my breast as the other slapped my thigh, making me shout out in ecstasy. Jongin loved slapping. Not so much the face, but my ass, my thighs, my breasts.

“You’re so tights still,” He gasps, “After all of us, fucking you one after the other.”

“Jongin,” I say, feeling a slap to my chest.

“I’m not going to last long,” He says, “but I’ll make it up to you.”

“Cum in me Jongin,” I say, nodding after his statement, “Cum in me like all the others!”

He groaned before it turned almost into a whine as he thrusted through his orgasm. The rolling of his hips was fucking wonderful as he slows, pressing a kiss to my lips before pulling out.

Before I could say anything else, I hear a command. “Close your eyes.” The voice made me smile, as I let my eyes close, following his instructions.

Junmyeon was another trust fund baby who’s parents died very tragically when he was fifteen. He enjoys his money, gives a lot away and still works as a therapist. Enjoying talking to people, listening to their stories and gracefully will offer advice and insights into their life. He has only a few patients and is off more days than he works, but he enjoys it nonetheless. We met at a fancy party that Minseok dragged me to in order to have a plus one. They talked, knowing one another for a few years as they’re in the same social circles. Before Minseok and I left, Junmyeon slipped me his number. I texted him after, and he asked if Minseok and I were an item. When I said no, he replied with wonderful. I told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious and he said the same. After a few days to talking via text, we met up for dinner in order to talk. It went very well. Extremely well that after we went to his nice house and proceeded to not even make it to the bedroom, stopping on the steps instead. After a few more times Junmyeon let me in on a few of his kinks, which only made our sex that much more amazing.

I feel a hand grip my throat, squeezing the sides. I took a deep breath, feeling the thumping of my heartbeat before he let go.

“Baby girl you’re so full already, hm?”

“Yes Daddy,” I say.

I feel him slowly press into me. “You like it don’t you? Being so full of cum like such a little slut.”

“Yes Daddy, I love it so much,” I whine, wanting him to go faster.

I could hear him chuckle, “Do you want Daddy’s too?”

“Yes! Please let me have it Daddy,” I beg, feeling him finally bottoming out.

“You know Daddy loves to cum in your sweet little pussy,” He mutters, hand holding my throat again. Breath by my neck as he spoke again. “Feeling you so full of cum is so wonderful Baby, but god I wish it was all mine.”

He lets go, and I shiver as he starts to slowly, but with perfect power and precision thrusting. “Do you want that, hm? To be so full of my cum it would spill out of you?”

“Give it to me, please,” I say, moaning.

I feel him move, a quickly shark slap to my face.

“You have to behave, Baby,” He says, “This is your only warning. Do it again and I don’t care how much you beg to cum I’ll make sure no one else lets you.”

“Yes Daddy,” I say, nodding. “I was a bad girl talking back to you. I think I deserve another slap.”

“You do, hm,” He asks, hips pressing forward quickening, making me whine.

Another quick pain and loud sound before I could nod, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re very welcome, Baby,” He says, pressing his lips into my neck, “now, Daddy has to hurry. I wish I could spend all night here, but you still have one more to go.”

“Please fill me up Daddy,” I mutter, “Give me more please! I want it so badly.”

“Your wish is my command,” He says, before his pace goes from slow and sensual to fast and brutal. My mouth was making sounds I didn’t know as his finger circled my clit. The other hand wrapping around my throat, not yet choking me before I could feel my peak growing and growing.

“Open your eyes,” He commanded, hand tightening around my neck.

I look, seeing him looking directly at me before his eyes close, the gasps and moans from his mouth filling the air as I feel even more cum soaked into me.

He let go of my throat and stopped rubbing my clit just as I was at the peak, making me whine.

“Sorry, Baby girl. But I think Yixing will give you what you want.”

Yixing. The owner of the dance studio and pretty well known choreographer for the stars. Music videos, tours, live television performances, he’s done it all. We met randomly in college. I was mourning my grandmother’s passing. The second anniversary was so hard as I missed her so much. I was crying, secluded to the roof of the Science building when he sat down next to me, and offered me someone to listen.

I just spilled. Everything my heart was feeling and he listened, and offered his condolences. After was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. And soon after, my second friends with benefits relationship in college. The thing I learned about Yixing is that he totally and completely puts your needs and desires above his own. He likes getting a blowjob, ut he’d rather be the one giving. Our first night was after midterms week ended. I was trying to relax. When I told him he offered to help. We spent the day at the beach close by before heading back to his apartment. The entire night he fucked me like he loved me and it was such a wonderful and magical thing. When I asked what brought that on he said he was friends with Minseok and knows how we are, saying he wouldn’t mind that too.

His fingers traced my body, as he sinks into me, the motion of his hips like a steady wave, hitting me where I needed it the most. I groaned, feeling his lips press kisses into every inch of skin he could. It was delightful, as he let his fingers massage my breasts, thumbs just barely going over the nipples.

“Watching them all with you was such a beautiful sight,” He mutters, kissing my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, wrapped up like a little present for us all.”

“Yixing please,” I mutter, feeling his lips move to mine. Yixing’s kisses were always slower, taking the time to really feel it. He pulls away, “I got you, Baby.” One of his fingers presses into my clit, circling, “Let go.”

My body finally reached the peak and tumbled over, my shouts in the air, my body shuttering as I pulled on the ropes holding me. Yixing just muttered works to me, holding me and fucking me though it. My pure bliss lasted longer because of him, knowing exactly how to make me feel the most about of pleasure as possible.

Once my climax ended, Yixing allowed himself to start to move faster, letting himself fall into his desires and his needs. The rather high pitched wines of his was a tell tale sign he was falling, before I feel him still.

I sigh, looking around at the men before me. Most already dressed again. I see Jongin smirk, looking down between my legs and I finally start to let the cum within me out. He leans forward, tongue licking up my slit and moaned. I writhed, very sensitive as I watch him lick to his heart's content. He pulled away after a bit, a little bit of cum dripping from his lips. As Minseok walked forward, he pulled Jongin down, kissing him deeply and giving him a wink, making the younger blush. It was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen.

Minseok and Chanyeol helps with the ropes, as I’m told Jongdae ran a bath for me. Minseok stayed behind, the other guys leaving the room talking about ordering food. Minseok massages my muscles, making sure the rope didn’t do any harm.

“Next time to text me about something special, I’ll know to say yes immediately,” I mutter, causing him to laugh.

“So, you liked it?”

I nod, “Not not all the time. I don’t want to have another dick in me for at least a week.”

“That can be arranged,” He says, smiling. “Next weekend. You, me and the stars?”

“Wanna pretend were virgins again,” I ask with a laugh. “Yes, sounds very nice, actually.”

He presses a kiss to my head before smiling, “I’m going to bring you a glass of wine.”

“That would be lovely,” I say, nodding as I watched him leave. I sink into the bubbles, letting the warm water ease my aches and stress.

What a wonderful end to the day.

[kneel-begyourpardon]

Truth

Pairing: Chubby Bucky x reader

Summar: Bucky is insecure about his weight.

Warnings: angst with fluff, bucky being self-conscious.

A/n: School has been killing me but I really wanted to get this fic up before Halloween so excuse my wired jump! Another Halloween special!

Bucky stood in front of the mirror. His shirt was lifted up and his stomach was hanging on his pants. He sighed a he turned on a side. Looking at his stomach he once again sighed. From where did all this fat come from?

Retirement went hard on him. He quit going to the gym and instantly started gaining weight. His muscles turned into fat. He couldn't run as long as he used to. Didn't have the same pain tolerance. Even his hand was taken off because it was too heavy for his body. 

He really didn’t want to go back to working out. He was happy with this life. A life where he could eat as much as he wanted, sleep as long as he could and work with the love of his life in a small shop. He didn’t want to tire himself out until he couldn’t do anything else. He didn’t want to say no to delicious food or spend his whole day on punching bags. He didn’t know why, but he never thought he would have this problem. Maybe it was the fit body he had his whole life or the super-soldier serum but it definitely wasn’t the case. 

Sam was right. He did look like a gorilla. So what if he was teasing him. It still was true. Bucky remembered the time he first met you. He was in perfect shape as always, but now all that was left from his was a giant blob of fat. 

He pulled down his shirt. It made him look ginormous. God, why did everything have to look hideous on him?

Putting on the final part of his costume. He checked himself out in the mirror. He looked more like Gibbs than Will turner from the pirates of the Caribbean. Why did he have to be so fat? You would be so disappointed.

Bucky hung his head as he made his way towards the bathroom, where you were getting ready. He knocked on the frame before leaning against the door. The crack it let out was like a stab to his heart as tears pulled in his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek as he held them back, smiling at you.

You looked breathtaking. Going as Elizabeth Swann was the best idea you had for the Halloween costume, at least for Bucky.  The dress hugged your curves perfectly and the illusion of wet hair made Bucky take a sharp breath through his nose to calm himself down. 

“You look stunning,” he said as you placed your hat on your head and fully turned towards him looking him over.

“You look great yourself, handsome.” you flashed him a cheeky smile and his face fell. 

Lies. You always lied, telling him he looked good, telling him he looked gorgeous. But the truth was always there in every reflective object, in every comment left under his picture, in every word coming from his friends as a joke. 

He softly pulled away from you making it seems as if he was grabbing your sword and leading you out of the house when in reality, he was trying to hide his eyes. He knew one look into them and you would immediately recognize the look of insecurity. You would shower him in compliments and treat him as the best-looking man in the whole world, but that voice in his head would hover over him telling the millions of lies, or truth. He tried to run away from it. Bury it, kill it but it always survived, always came back. And it came back stronger. 

The Carnaval was filled with people dressed in different costumes. From scary, to trendy to practically naked. But Bucky wasn’t paying attention to any of those. His whole focus was on the food. To not to touch it. Not to eat it

Damn, he didn’t even hold your chocolate fingers because they smelled nice. 

He was awfully quiet. Not saying anything more than he had to.  You left him alone at first, thinking Halloween brought back some bad memories. Or he wasn’t comfortable in his costume but the pirates of the Caribbean was your favorite movie.  That was the first film you watched together and still, the best memories you have ever shared. So you thought it would be cute to dress up as your favorite couple from there but maybe you were wrong. 

You finally spoke up when he refused to get his favorite dessert.

“You good?” you asked as you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Yeah why?” he whispered and your heart broke at the sad tone of his voice.

“I don’t know. you haven’t eaten anything this whole night,” you said and you felt a tug at your hand when Bucky came to a halt.

“So you only associate me with food?” there were so many emotions in his voice. Sadness, pain, sorrow but mostly anger. 

“Bucky you know I didn’t….”

“No, No I don’t.” he cut you off with a broken voice. He tried to hold it back. He really did, but all these emotions they needed to go somewhere. Not get stuck in his gross body. “I don’t know!”

“Hey.” you said facing him. ” did someone say something to you? Because you know I don’t care about your weight.” you said, putting your hands on his sides. You felt how his muscles tensed under your touch and it hurt you knowing he felt uncomfortable around you.

“Yeah but I thought…”

“Well, you thought I wouldn’t like you because of your arm but here we are, aren’t we?” you said and for the first time in the whole night, he looked you in the eyes. 

The pain you saw in them shattered your heart into a million peace and all you wanted to do was take him home, cuddle and praise him until he couldn’t take it anymore. But you knew he would feel bad for ruining the night in the morning. Blaming himself for spending, what could have been the best night of your life, at home.  And as much as you didn’t mind heading back, you did want him to have fun. Even if it meant forcing his ugly thoughts out of his mind just for a while. You knew you couldn’t get rid of them in one talk, it needed time and practice but you were willing to do anything for Bucky. For his happiness. 

“Anyways it’s kinda my fault. I make you eat all the delicious food I cook.” you joked and he cracked a small smile. Eyes still filled with tears.

“God forbid anyone to eat your food,” he said making you gasp in the fake offense.

“So you’re saying my food is not good?!” he laughed and you smiled up at him. 

God, you loved him so much. You loved all of him. His eyes, his smile, his body, his soul. Everything. He was perfect for you. So what if someone preferred him when he was ripped. When he had a six-pack or when he had his arm on. You weren’t that someone. You knew he was happy now. With this life and it was all that mattered to you. You just hoped he would see that and maybe soon enough, that would be enough for him as well. 

You looked at him for some time just enjoying his smile, enjoying his company. When he saw the adoration in your eyes he realized maybe you were telling the truth. Maybe he was good enough for you and didn’t have to change. But those thoughts had to wait. For now, all he wanted to do was have fun with his best girl.

“Come on now, I’m starving,” he said as he tugged at you hand making you giggle as you followed the man you loved to the booth of caramel apples.

 FT: @simam12 @percyjackson886

[lovemesomesurveys]

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? Peanut butter. I don’t get the Nutella hype to be honest.

Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? I refuse to choose cause I love both.

What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? I’m not sharing that.

Do you like breadsticks? Yes. The more cheesy-garlicky, the better. <<< Yesss. With marinara or some kind of olive oil sauce for dipping.

What are your favorite things to spend money on? Food and clothes.

Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Puppy. 

How old will you be on your next birthday? 33. 

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Yes. I’m a picky and particular eater, even when it comes to how I eat. Plus, I take forever to finish my food, so I’ll still be eating longgg after everyone else and I just feel awkward and rushed cause I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.

When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? What time it is is generally my first thought. 

What is one thing in the room you’re in that reminds you of somebody? A framed photo of my dog, Brandie, who passed away December 26, 2016.

Would you ever want to be a supermodel, or date one? I have no desire to be one. Not like I’d be cut out to be one anyway, so it works out. As far as dating one... I don’t know if I’d want to date anyone in the spotlight like that. That kind of life is not for me. 

Honestly, have you ever made fun of somebody so bad they cried? Nooo. I don’t make fun of people or purposely try to hurt someone.

Honestly, would you rather be complimented on your looks or intelligence? Intelligence.

Have you ever purchased a pregnancy test, for yourself or otherwise? No.

You can get one thing, anything, for free right now. What do you pick? Why? All expenses paid vacation.

Honestly, have you ever danced naked? No.

What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? Take candy from the candy bins at the grocery store when I was a kid. I was a big rebel, I know. 

What is the home page on the computer you’re on? Google.

Do you like to write poetry? I don’t write poetry. I’m not a poet and I do know it. 

Are your ears pierced? Yeah, my earlobes.

If so, were they pierced with a piercing gun, or with a sterile needle? I’m not sure, since my mom had them pierced when I was a baby. I would guess piercing gun, though. <<<

Do you wear makeup regularly? No. Prior to my brother’s grad party back in May it had been like 4 years since I wore any makeup. I haven’t worn any since then. 

Did you eat cereal for breakfast today? No, I made a microwave breakfast egg scramble thing with these microwave mini pancakes. 

When was the last time you tripped over something? My doggo likes to leave her toys right in the way so it’s not such a rare occurrence. 

Who was the last person you yelled at? Not yell, but had to get stern with my doggo earlier when my aunt brought her doggo over. Mine was getting too hyper and excitable and wanted to play of course, but her dog is a tiny chihuahua and was scared. My dog forgets how big she is sometimes lol. To be fair, she hasn’t had a lot of interaction with other dogs, which is something we should have tried to do more.

Why did you yell at them? ^ That.

Favorite type of apple? The brand, ha.

Ever seen live horse racing? No.

How about live greyhound racing? No.

What’s one thing, besides the obvious, that you couldn’t live without? I need my coffee, ha.

Have you ever touched a giraffe? No, I wish!

What does your mom call you? She often calls me “Sis.” What stresses you out the most in life? My health.

Do you play any PC games? What is your favorite? Yeah, The Sims 4. I’ve been obsessed again lately. I go through phases with it.

If you were pregnant, how would you tell the father? Well, that would depend on the circumstances. Did we want a baby? Was it a bad surprise, a happy surprise? I can't answer this with just one idea. < Yeah. <<<

What’s the hardest level you can play on Guitar Hero? I rocked out hard on easy mode, ha.

What ever happened with you and your first boyfriend? I realized I wasn’t ready for a relationship and he was moving too fast for me so I ended it.

What’s your favorite country song? I like several, but the first that just randomly popped into my head is “Rainbow” by Kacey Musgraves.

What is the worst thing a former boyfriend/girlfriend has done to you? Use and play me.

What were you for Halloween last year? I stopped dressing up a few years ago.

Are you feeling guilty for something? Yes, a few things. 

Are you usually quiet or loud? Most definitely quiet. No one would describe me as loud.

How many hours do you spend on the computer a day? It really varies. Some days definitely more than others.

What is the show that you watched when you were little, and you still do? Rugrats, Hey Arnold, and Doug to name a few.

Do your siblings text you? My younger brother does.

Do you want a small or big wedding? I don’t plan to ever get married.

Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Of course. That was like the first thing everyone did when it came out, which is quite funny because you could search anywhere and we chose our own house haha.

Who is your ex dating/talking to? I have no idea nor do I care to be honest.

Ever kissed someone who smokes? No.

Does it take a lot for someone to annoy you? No, especially not nowadays. I’m so moody and irritable.

Do you own your own computer? I do.

Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? No.

What noises in the room you’re in, do you hear at the moment? The ASMR video I’m listening to, my fans, and myself typing.

Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? No.

What’s the biggest upcoming event for you? I don’t have any.

What do you typically order from Wendy’s? Meh, I rarely go to Wendy’s but if I did I’d just get a cheeseburger, fries, and a frosty.

Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? No.

What do you love most about yourself? :/

Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No.

What are you doing right now? This and listening to an ASMR video.

What’s bothering you right now? My stomach.

What was the last thing you drank? Water.

Be honest, do you like people in general? I’m not a people person.

Do you want your tongue pierced? No.

Do you change your phone background a lot? I change it for the season or holiday. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? Not that I know of.

Have you ever been strip searched? No.

Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No, a lot of people have said they like it.

Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? No.

Do you get sick of people who call themselves bipolar all the time? People do throw that term around too loosely. That one and OCD.

Describe your day so far in three words: My stomach hurts.

What was the most stressful project you had so far/while in school? There had been many.

Choose one- Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Butterfinger.

Have you ever stepped in dog poop? Ugh, yes.

What was the last thing you spent money on? Food.Yeah.

Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? No.

Is there a guy that knows a lot about you? Yeah.

Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? My parents and brother.

Do you prefer Starbucks coffee or small cafe coffee? Ooooh, both. I love coffee. <<<

Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? No.

Do you enjoy being outdoors? At the beach, yes.

Do people tell you that you have an accent? No.

Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? I wish they weren’t so damn loud.

What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? Meh.

Is there anyone you would take a bullet for? My parents and brother.

Do you enjoy tanning? I don’t mind if I get one while I’m at the beach, but I don’t actively go tanning or get tanned.

Are you a virgin? Yes.

Who’s your celebrity crush? Alexander Skarsgard.

Did or do you get good grades in English class? Yep. English was always my best and favorite subject.

What part of your body are you self-conscious about? All of it.

Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? No. I like doing the appetizers, though.

Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? No.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? No.

When was the last time you got a shot? It’s been many years.

[seovienrose]

♡ mingyu oneshot | mother ♡

a/n: best listened with mother by charlie puth. this is like funny fluff but maybe little angsty at the end. words count: 1329 words

warning: kinda suggestive!

♡♡♡♡ happy 5th anniversary to seventeen! ♡♡♡♡

“Hi, my name is Mingyu. I am your daughter’s classmate. The president of football club, I did volunteering jobs in few places and happened to know her close through the volunteering activities. Your daughter is very lovely ma’am.”

Your mother and Mingyu had long chats while Mingyu took out a box of herbal tonics from his paper bag. Your mother’s interest is piqued with this kind and altruistic behaviour.

“What’s this?”

“A get to know gift. My mother enjoys herbal tonics and I’d thought you guys would love this too.”

and there you go, Mingyu secured himself a date and affection from his girl’s parents. But it’s actually more than that.

He's such a nice boy, so well-mannered

He's so much better than the last one you brought around

Mingyu had always give good guy impression to everyone he meet. He has the ability to charm people suprisingly. When you brought him to your parents’ house in the middle of summer, they loved him. Your mother preferred him better than Junhui. But little did they know Mingyu is more vicious than Junhui.

“You know what kid, I can see Mingyu in our family.”

You freaked out, almost choked. “Mom? Are you like indirectly saying you like Mingyu as a son-in-law?”

“He’s considerate! He has this maturity. Look at all the endless gifts he keeps giving? Sensible with elders.” your mother rolled her eyes, “Junhui was too childish for you anyway. Glad you broke up with him.”

You smiled.

Mingyu told that he has been eyeing you since you were dating Junhui. He got jealous sometimes seeing you with him and couldn’t find courage to talk to you. When he heard Junhui had to transfer school, he was absolutely delighted. Mingyu said he liked you since the day you helped picking up papers for him, you didn’t even remember it though.

The moment she walks out that door

I'm not pretending anymore

Mingyu’s eyes turned dark with the sight of you walking so gracefully to his truck donned in lacey blouse, long skirt and braided hairtail. He cackled at this pretty sight of you.

“Change.”

When you settled in your seat, Mingyu gave a paper bag. You smiled at him cheekishly.

A body fitting white dress.

Mingyu pulled the band from your hair and ruffled your hair playfully. He edged closer and kissed the top of your head.

Mingyu drove his car and you quickly changed the outfit into the one Mingyu gave.

Mingyu brought you to a club. He greeted everyone he sees while holding you so close to him. This is the first time you ever stepped into the club since all the previous dates before were at “tame” places for proof to your parents.

Then his friends came crowding both of you, some familiar faces and some are not.

“Y/N? That’s you?” Jaehyun asked while looking at your wearing the dress that wrapped your body tight.

You brushed your hair and nodded.

Eunwoo laughed, “This is my first time seeing the nice and lovely Y/N wearing something not like her!”

“He bought it for me and I like it.”

“This dollface is not as innocent as you people thought she’d be.” Mingyu said and you pinched him.

“Don’t tell me you guys—“ DK, with his wine glass almost choked on his drink.

Mingyu nodded his head and looked at you softly, “She leads me.”

Everyone around you were gasping. Mingyu and you guffawed as Mingyu kissed your shoulder softly. 

We've been hiding since the time they forgot to knock

When it’s the early stage of your relationship, your parents will come and monitor what Mingyu and you are doing together in the room. Luck has it they never caught you doing something physical. It’s always the math exercise book, history notes, calculators and stationeries on the table with 1m distance between the two of you.

With these two naive and wild kids together in the room, parents can be quite clueless to leave them and pretend nothing will happen. A lot of time Mingyu has been caressing your stomach and thigh during the study time and the two of exchange small pecks in every break time.

With the luck of never getting caught, more and more physical touch between the two of you have becoming more progressive. One day, Mingyu has been fanning himself because of the hot weather and directed the fan to himself making you scowl.

“If you’re that hot, take the shirt off.”

Mingyu smirked, “you really be telling me that in your parents’ house, young lady?”

“They didn’t bother to check up on us anymore now.” you said while unbuttoning the first two buttons of your dress. You swept your hair to side leaving space for the neck to breath.

Mingyu’s getting hard as his cheeks blushed while watching you do that to him.

“Are we really doing this?”

You nodded and straddled to him, both helping each other out from the fabrics.  You believe he is the one and you want to be with him the rest of life. Mingyu thinks so too.

If your mother knew all of the things that we do

If your mother knew all the things we do

If your mother knew, she'd keep me so far from you

Even if you have 1000 luck, nothing can win against a mother’s intuition. Your mother has become suspicious whenever she sees your cheeks get red from the tension after meeting Mingyu. There is some sort of intoxication she can felt from you. So your mother decided to investigate and put her spy glasses on.

On every Friday night, Mingyu would come to your house to study. He brought an apple pie he made in the evening to your mother which your mother gleefully accepted. But that doesn’t fade away the trust issues she is having towards your boyfriend.

Mingyu went straight to your bedroom with his backpack, not having any damn clue what your mother is up to. Your mother had her ears so close to the door of your room. After 30 minutes listening to mathematical terms coming out from Mingyu’s lecture, there was a long silence. Then, she heard your soft moan and some gibberish words.

“Aah...ah”

“Ahhhh.....”

“ashssdMingyu........”

“Slowly...”

“Aaahhhhhh.....”

So your mother knocked the door which leaves the both of you speechless, faces turning pale white. She unlocked the door with spare key without any time left for the two unfortunate lovebirds. Both of you half naked on the bed. Your mother was gaping and shook her head. Your face turned red and Mingyu kneeled before your mother.

“Mother. I am sorry.”

“Mingyu, what the hell you’re doing with my daughter all this time?!” her eyes seemed furious and she managed to grab a long wooden stick trying to hit Mingyu, “Get the fuck out and stop seeing her!”

Mingyu packed his stuff and ran as fast as he can leaving your house. You cried out and your mother stared at you in bewilderment. 

Next time that she sees me

She gon' act like she don't know me

'Cause she knows all of the story

Now your daddy wants to kill me (ah)

Your mother has forbid you from meeting Mingyu for 6 months until the final term which made both of you in some Romeo and Juliet love story situation. You are able to meet Mingyu in class but under provision of teachers which was like hell to the both of you. You can’t even speak to him. Mingyu felt sorry and he missed you so much.

After months of blocked communications, Mingyu bumped into your mother when going to groceries. Your mother nudged your father while mouthing out something. She turned nonchalantly and pretended she didn’t see you while your father were looking at Mingyu as if he’s going to eat him alive. The best thing Mingyu thought to do is to run from their sight before Mingyu gets eaten alive.