#because you otherwise will likely be blocked before next round

[sonicpoorlittlemeowmeowshowdown]

Um, I’m gonna be completely honest (and this might sound a little unnecessary, but I’m gonna put this out there anyway): I’m much LESS upset Starline lost (it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day and I’ll get over it 3 seconds from now ☠️) and MORE upset people can fling CRAZY accusations at us just for the heck of it and still win at the end of the day 😭

Like- who said we hate lesbians and apologize for abusers again??? 😭

Obviously it isn’t everyone but it’s enough to suck all the fun out of everything 😭

^^^

[tremendouscreationperson]

A little fic based off of this

Whenever I write an X Reader it's usually for chubby!reader but it's actually a plot point in this one

Chubby/bullied!reader x stan

You, Ford, Caryn and Filbrick sat in the front row.

Stan had a big fight tonight, the only reason his father came, and you were nervously tapping your leg. His opponent, Godfrey Davies, was bigger and looked meaner but you knew Stan could potentially pull it off.

The two entered the ring and Stan gave you a cheeky wink before his eyes caught his father. His whole expression changed when he clocked Filbrick.

"He better win." Ford commented.

You knew what Ford was implying. If Stan lost in front of his dad he would be crushed. And Filbrick was the type of man who would leave if he was bored so Stan would also have to put on a good show.

The two touched gloves and the bell rang.

You weren't a huge boxing fan but wouldn't deny the rush a match gave you. The adrenaline of the room coursed through your veins as each punch landed. Godfrey was strong, he had hit Stan's stomach a few times but Stan was quick enough to dodge any major strikes.

Godfrey managed to land a blow against Stan's cheek and your hand grasped Fords.

You glanced at Ford as an excuse to spy on Filbrick but the man gave nothing away. Merely enjoying? the show.

In the split second your eyes were off of Stan, he had managed to gain the upper hand with a series of quick jabs against Godfrey's right side.

"He's hurt him." Ford informed you. "See the twitch."

You followed his fingers, unable to see the twitch, alas you trusted Ford's intelligence. If Ford said Stan hurt him then he hurt him.

The two danced around each other for the remainder of the round, there was a soft tap here and a dodge there but otherwise it was quiet.

The next round was similar. There were the odd moments of carnal violence sprinkled in between their dance but it was the third round that mattered.

As Stan took a sip of water, he turned in your direction, his pale skin beginning to pinken as it swelled up. He gave you all a sloppy smirk and when the bell rang again, there was a new fire in him.

Stan kept low and stayed with defence until Godfrey tired himself out - punching ludicrously hard against Stan's forearm block - and just when Godfrey stopped to pant, Stan whacked him with an uppercut.

Godfrey stumbled backwards, wobbling on his feet. Stan was on him in an instant punching him in the face and forcing the man to the floor.

The ref called it and everyone cheered.

He had won!

This was a big deal.

He could now fight in a higher tier.

This was really good news!

You released Ford from your hug and he ran over to his twin. The boys embraced, clapping each other's backs, grinning from ear to ear.

Caryn was next, she slipped in the hug, squeezing her babies tight. You knew she said a cheesy joke along the lines of 'I didn't need a crystal ball to know you'd win' because the twins rolled their eyes in sync but there was no real malice behind the gesture.

Filbrick finally made his move: a pat on the shoulder. You knew it meant the world to Stan. He deserved it. He really did. He was glorious.

A photographer worked his way into the ring and told the family to smile but Stan stopped the photo.

"Wait, where's Y/N?" His eyes scanned the crowd that had formed, swarming the ring side. He had a lot of groupies, unsurprisingly. People loved a big strong man and it didn't hurt that he looked like that.

They landed on you and you smiled, waving awkwardly as he gestured for you to join them. The room was noisy and people were still cheering, drinks being drunk, music blaring so he didn't hear your reply. You tried to call out again but in the end shook your head, sheepishly.

It was his moment. He needed this. To be in a photo with his family. He could frame it.

Besides, you'd only ruin it.

You weren't exactly pretty.

A fact that everyone had relentlessly told you at school.

The only reason you were still alive was Stan and Ford's friendship, otherwise you'd have had to fight the onslaught of insults alone and you really didn't think you were strong enough for that.

Stan frowned momentarily before forcing a smile for the photo.

~~

"Doll face?" You were sitting in your garden, on the swing your dad had made, reading the Lord of the Rings. Turning your head you found Stan. He was standing next to you, hands in pockets. He had bruises on his cheek and a split lip you hadn't noticed at the time.

"Hi." You smiled up, closing the book. "How'd's it feel to be a winner?"

Stan chuckled, plonking down on the swing next to you. Your dad had to install another when you eventually made friends. "'little sore."

"I bet you don't feel it because your dad was proud of you." You mock punched his arm. "He really was."

Stan swivelled on the swing, the rope twisting together as he spun around.

You suspected he had something to say so kept quiet until he found the words.

Stan let go, spinning until he was back in the correct place.

"You know you're gorgeous right?" The words tumbled out.

They took you aback. You hadn't ever thought those words would come out of his mouth. "Pardon?"

He let out a shaky breath, gazing up at the sky. "You're really pretty. I don't know why Jorgie and her gang tell you otherwise. Like a damn movie star."

Where had this come from? "Wh-"

"The photo." He answered without needing the question. "I wish you were in it."

You didn't know what to say or how to respond. The only thing you could think to do was shyly smile and reach for his hand.

~~

"Filbrick, that's Y/N." You overheard Caryn whisper to her husband. They were in the Kitchen where you were planning on getting a drink. "She comes over all the time."

He huffed.

Did-did he not know who you were?

You were here every other day.

Hell, you once made the man dinner!

Caryn had been sick and the boys were useless so you came around and rustled up some grub for the four of them.

That was insulting.

"The fat one?" He questioned.

Fat?

Were you fat?

You glanced down at yourself, you could see your toes but maybe not as much as you should be able to?

"She's no-well, it doesn't matter. She's good for Stan..and Ford. Keeps them sane."

Caryn thought you were fat too?

You stepped away carefully, avoiding the spots in the wood that creaked, and nestled yourself back into the boys room. Settling next to Stan in his bed as they argued about nothing important.

~~

You'd declined every offer Stan made to go out. You didn't want to look like you were avoiding him but his parents thought you were fat and that had shaken your self image.

You were obviously not thin in the mirror and people at school called you fat and ugly all the time. So much that part of you believed it and part of you brushed it off but to hear it from them... From people you trusted...

You knew you were nothing great to look at. Stan being sweet was just him trying to comfort you, you probably embarrassed them.

In an effort to beautify yourself, your evenings were spent jogging mostly. It was awful and you hated it but you made sure to do it before dinner or you wouldn't eat.

"Oit." A voice called, you spun to see Stan running to catch up.

"Hey."

"What're we doing?" He fell into pace with you.

"Jogging." You offered.

"Har, har." He playfully shoved you. "Why are we jogging? It's the worst."

Your face split into a grin, loving how in sync the two of you were. "It really is! I hate it."

When you both rounded the corner, he repeated himself. "C'mon what are we doing?"

"Trying to lose weight." You answered.

"W-why?" Your reply had caught him completely off guard that he faltered. Stan had to speed up to match your pace again. "You don't need to."

A dark chuckle left you without your consent. "I heard someone talking-"

"Ignore the girls at school." He interrupted.

"It wasn't-" Jogging and talking was hard. "It was someone whose opinion I'd hate to admit I trust. They said it straight."

Stan made a face but didn't argue. He would let you win this round and later convince you to come to the diner and get a thick shake. He knew you weren't fat. Well, maybe you were but not in a bad way! You looked amazing! The meat on your bones was in all the right places. More to love like platonically.

Eventually the two of you came to a stop outside your house.

"I don't think jeans were designed for running." Stan tried to pry the fabric off his thigh.

"I'd never blame you, beautiful." He folded his arms. "Now, who do I have to beat up?"

You giggled. "Don't blame me. I didn't ask you to join me."

"No one." Your eyes rolled automatically.

"Hey, don't do that."

"I'm not doing anyth-"

Stan closed the distance, cupping your cheeks in his palms, forcing eye contact. "Tell me. 'cause you're perfect."

Why had he decided to be all sweet and flirty recently? He did know you were the butt of every joke, right? Like everyone else, he was well aware that boys would ask you out as a prank. Was this one? No, not your Stan.

Well he wasn't your Stan.

"Earth to Y/N." He manipulated your head, swaying it gently side to side.

"Huh?"

"Who called you fat?"

The words seemed to leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. Your mind hadn't even registered properly and they were released into the world. "Your parents."

The neutral expression morphed into anger. Stan's brows pulled as his pupils shrunk. A twitch occurred in his jaw. "My dad?"

"Your mom, too." You shrugged. "It's nothing massive, it's actually helpful. Now I know it's true I can-"

"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not. It's mean." Stan placed his forehead against yours and took in a breath. "When I say you are perfect, believe it. Don't change anything. Please, doll."

~~

The new few months played out in the usual fashion. You'd go to school, then theirs, they'd come to yours, the three of you would worry about test results, studying was tricky when the boys were helping - they always got off topic. It didn't take long before all the exams were finished and the school year was coming to a close meaning prom.

You and the twins went together. None of you officially had dates but that didn't matter because it was always you three vs the world.

A triangle was the strongest shape after all.

You arrived at the Pines house on time, barely giving the door a knock before it swung open. Stan was quick to exit and pulled you towards the car.

He didn't look back, settling you into the passenger seat as he rounded the car to the driver's.

"Stan?" You glanced at the front door. "Everything okay?" Caryn had begged you to come in and take photos less than a week ago. Maybe Stan knew you were embarrassed or maybe he was going back on his words... Maybe he was embarrassed of you.

Stan gave you a curt nod, his palms tightening in the steering wheel. You watched the knuckles whiten on his left hand before his right caught your gaze. There was blood on them.

Why was there blood on his knuckles?!

"Where's Ford?"

As if on cue Ford left the house, closing the door behind him and strode towards the car.

He slipped into the backseat and gave you a sheepish smile.

The car journey was blessedly short and weird to say the least.

You distracted yourself with the radio.

At school you took the obligatory "couple" photo. You stood between the boys arm in arm. Even if it was fake, it was the first time Stan smiled tonight.

You were led to the gym - they had dressed it up for a party but it was still just your school gym - and found a spot to stand and people watch.

Ford attempted to make small talk with others but he wasn't hugely successful, coming back each time with an 'aww shucks'. At least he didn't have punch thrown at him. Silver linings and all that, hey?

Stan was still being strange so you let him be. Sometimes he went quiet when he was thinking too hard. You hoped he was able to at least enjoy a bit of the evening.

He had just excused himself to use the toilet when Ford sprinted back to your side. "Finally!"

"What?!"

"He punched dad." Ford whispered.

Huh, it sounded like Ford told you Stan had punched Filbrick but that would be insane. "Care to run that by me again?"

"Dad said something and Stan shouted before he just socked him. It was intense. Dad then shook his hand!"

What?!

"Wait, I don't get it." You frowned. "Your dad's been an asshole for years, what made Stan snap?"

Ford shrugged but you knew he knew. Why wasn't he telling you? "Ask him."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just ask Stan 'why'd you finally decide to whack your dad?' Think about it for more than two seconds!"

Ford's eyes slipped over your shoulder and he nodded minutely. Stan was back in the room.

Your eyes immediately found his knuckles, they weren't bloodied but even from here you could see the slight pink hue. You turned to ask Ford something only to find he had disappeared again.

Stan made his way through the dancefloor and stopped by your side.

After Ford's confession the silence was maddening. You needed to ask why but how do you go about it? How do you just ask him? And his dad shook his hand? Was that a goodbye? Was Stan being kicked out? No, Filbrick wasn't that cruel.

"Fancy a dance?" You offered. Stan looked at you and then the crowd, unease splattered throughout his expression. "We don't have to."

"It is a dance, though." He commented. "Just- there's a lot of people."

"It's okay." You brushed him off. It wasn't a massive deal, you didn't have to dance at a dance.

"There wasn't anyone in the corridor by Mr Tymeh's. Could still hear the music." He didn't outright ask you but you'd been friends long enough to read between the lines.

"Lead the way."

The two of you left the gym and wandered past the toilets to the small 'office' Mr Tymeh ate his lunch and moaned at the less athletic students in.

Stan was right, you could hear the music from here and the corridor was empty.

"Wanna do this then?" He asked, making zero eye contact.

"Stan, we don't have to if yo-" You were unable to finish the sentence because he pulled you close, hands on your waist, and swayed.

Your hands met his shoulders and you let him move the two of you back and forth. The song wasn't meant for slow swaying but this half-dance was really sweet so you weren't going to complain.

"I like your suit." You brushed your fingers along his collar.

"Thanks, got mine and Fords for the price of one." He smirked cockily. "You, uh, you look beautiful as ever. That colour's real pretty."

You didn't give the compliment to get one, hopefully he knew that!! Yet it was sweet hearing the words. Choosing the colour was very hard, you didn't want to look good for everyone else, you wanted to feel good for yourself and when you finally decided what you were wearing you did feel good.

Maybe tonight you'd believe Stan's words.

Believe you were pretty passable.

Your brain was getting too distracting so you softly asked, "what happened to your hand?"

"Some schmuck." He shrugged. "No one important."

You pulled his hand from your hip and frowned at the knuckles. "That's not what Ford said."

Stan groaned. "That fucker."

"Are you alright?"

He looked into your eyes before nodding. "Yeah."

"Gonna tell me about it?" You raised a brow.

"He was just being an asshole." There was more to the story. There had to be. Filbrick had been an asshole for years and Stan hadn't snapped, so why now? Stan saw the confusion in your face and elaborated. "He made comments about you."

Your frown deepened. "You hit your dad for me?" You were not worth that. Why the fuck would he-

"Course I did." Stan paused. "He can say what he wants about me but not you." His eyes flickered to your opening mouth. "It was strange, he patted me on the back and shook my hand after. Proud of me for standing up I guess."

.

.

.

@nyx-universe @aceistheplace86

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Vox takes you on a date to a casino.

Vox: "So, Doll what do you want to do first?"

You: "Oh well, I'm not really sure... I've never really gambled before. I don't want to lose money because I don't know how..."

Vox slings his arm around your shoulder, his warm body pressed to yours.

Vox: "Nonsense, Doll I'll teach you, and it's all on my, my treat, how about we get you a nice drink, and I'll teach you how to BJ..."

At your startled look, he holds up his hands laughing, clearly he'd been teasing you.

Vox: "I just meant Blackjack."

He laughs at your reddened face and guides you over to the bar, giving you the rundown of the rules, you're sure you'll learn better as you play, but it gives you enough of an idea of what's expected in the game.

You sit in the seat and Vox hovers beside you, sending soothing static down your spine and sparking delightfully through your nerves making it hard to focus.

Not that it matters as Vox tells you every move to make anyway right now.

You celebrate your first win so excitedly and to Vox's utter pleasure you kiss him ecstatic and buzzing, he buys you another drink and you go another round really liking this game.

You found you won the next hand again under his guidance and tried yourself the next time and lost.

Every time he helped you, you seemed to win, and each time he got a kiss in gratitude, he'd clearly won more than he'd lost.

As you were about to buy in for another round, a trio of imposing guys approach the table and you end up clutching Vox's arm as you're both whisked off to a side room.

The dude sitting there is feline in nature. The guards post beside him and one at the door behind you.

Vox: "Well hello there Husker, good to see you my man, our evening is going splendidly, nice place you've got here."

'Husker' however is stoney faced, to Vox's charismatic friendliness.

Husk: "As a fellow Overlord who don't want no war, I'm gonna just tell you this once and give you one chance, you leave and there'll be no trouble."

Vox shifts, subtly blocking you further from view, you cling to his jacket trembling.

Vox: "And why would I do that, my good fellow?"

His voice, friendly as ever but you can hear the shift in the undertone, a dangerous one, feeling the static shocks run down his spine you still do not let go despite your fingers going numb.

It was Vox's one rule, if there's trouble you don't let go as he can zap you both out of anywhere with electricity in less than a moment as long as you're connected.

Husk: "You been countin' cards, and I want you out."

You gasp in slight surprise and you feel Vox shaking with laughter, like he'd expected this all along.

Vox: "Why would you say that, Husk? Be careful what you say next, you might not like the outcome."

Husk was either very brave or very foolish, or perhaps a bit of both, maybe it's because Vox wasn't really a fighter... That was ever talked about.

Husk: "You win every round you play, and you might not have the counting cards tells like most normal folk but I know you're doing it in that tecky head of yours and I want you out for cheating on my turf."

Vox: "I'm going to give you just one chance to take that accusation and rude statement back my man, and let bygone be bygones, otherwise... You'll be the one regretting your actions tonight. I might have a 'techy' head, but I can assure you I have integrity for games that my mentor taught me..."

The room flickers around you all, your knuckles going pale as your grip shakes and the power flashes in the whole casino.

Vox: "I do not cheat, and you insult me as an Overlord and a paying patron, and if you don't submit an apology, of course good chum, I will be forced to ruin you."

Husk: "I've heard enough, take him out boys."

Guns were pulled and in a moment you were back in VTower in the penthouse, dizzy from the unusual travel, blood still buzzing in your veins as Vox catches you and settles you on the couch cradling your face.

Vox: "You okay? Babydoll?"

You breathe deep for a moment getting grounded, your face splits into a wide grin.

You: "Fuck you're hot when you're swinging your dick around with authority."

Vox laughs kissing you deeply. Thoroughly amused at your choice of words and feeling the real thing twitch with more interest.

Vox: "Oh yeah? Want me to order you around a little tonight, Doll? Maybe you can show your Master just how much you like being his little pet."

You can't help the loan that escapes you, his shark-like grin tells you how well received your involuntary response went however.

Vox: "Good, my Babydoll. So good aren't you? Held onto me the whole time we were there, trusted me, such a good little Pet."

You whimper and bite your lip, flushing and nodding eagerly, dragging a finger down the ball of his antenna making him shiver slightly, his claws prick your hips where they tighten.

You: "Did you cheat?"

Vox: "Oh absolutely, Alastor always taught me as long as you hold all the cards and are the most powerful in the room however, no one can stop you. I have seniority, I have more power and I'm afraid I'm going to have to end that two bit Overlords little buisness in less than a weeks time."

Vox kisses you all across the face and angling your head funny, kisses down your neck with every word, to your giggles.

Vox: "I'll give him two days to lure him into a false sense of security, then I'll strike, and while he's trying to save himself I'll offer him a deal... But first, my Doll, I'm going to have a pre-celebration, right here with you."

His voice almost purrs at you and you whimper as he covers your body with his, kissing you soundly and really living up to his words as he doesn't disappoint tending to all your needs for the next two days, making you scream his name more times than you can keep track of.

Only, after two days Vox's plans didn't quite work out the way he'd intended...

It seems the cat was smarter than he appeared... And had already taken the threat seriously, seems the old cat was now under Alastor's protection, and his business untouchable, Husk had his soul chained but still kept his power and business and Vox raged for a whole week after that.

Only you could calm him for short periods of times, but you were bruised from how roughly he'd handled you.

On the last night, Vox curled around you muttering apologies into your skin as he caressed every mark, and kissed every bite.

You didn't mind so much, but with an extra threat just that week from some mafia guys, he moved you out of the tower and into your own flat.

You couldn't help but feel isolated and alone, wondering if Vox would ever come back for you...

[squintyeyedjoel]

Look For The Light | (Joel x Reader) - Coming Soon!

Synopsis: When Joel and Ellie are on their way to find the Fireflies, they stumble across something else in an abandoned farmhouse. Something unexpected and life changing - you. ….and the three year old toddler you rescued three days ago that happens to harbor something familiar Joel has a hard time reconciling with.

(Sneak peek below the cut!)

Suddenly the handle on the door to your room jiggled, making the breath stutter in your chest.

The low voice on the other side of the wooden barrier made you jump. “I’ll give you to the count of three, otherwise I’m breakin’ this thing down.”

You gulped.

“One.”

Silence.

“Two.”

A beat more.

“Three.”

Suddenly the door swung open, the latch busting into pieces and skittering across the floor as the hulking frame of a man barreled through shoulder first. Just behind him you saw a teenaged girl peeking in curiously from the top of the steps.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, offering a timid smile. “I’d have met you at the door, but,” you looked down toward the bundle in your arms, the smile turning more genuine. “My hands are full.”

“Holy fucking shit,” the teenager mumbled, before trying to make her way around the grumpy looking man. He caught her by her backpack, not allowing her any closer, to which she turned a skeptical look his way. “Really, Joel? It’s a baby. What’s it gonna do, drool me to death?”

You snorted a laugh, arching an eyebrow at the man- Joel’s unimpressed look your way.

“It’s a toddler. They’d scream your ear off b’fore they’d drool-” He stopped when he glanced from the tiny human in your arms who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, and focused back on the teen, finding her already looking at him with raised brows.

After a moment he released her with a sigh, and she took a few tentative steps your way, wide grin climbing up her face.

“How would you know, anyway?” She teased the man without sparing him a glance.

The look he shot at the back of the girl's head made you want to grin, but you successfully tucked it into the top of the little human’s head in your lap.

“I’m older ‘an you. Been ‘round the block a few times, is all. Know a thing or two.” His voice was a rumbling grouse, the dry tone exasperated and saying he’d been here a time or two before, this argument worn and thin.

“Yeah, because you’re ancient,” she mocked.

“Ain’t that old,” he grumbled.

“Dirt is younger, Joel.”

“Not worried I’m infected?” You kept your voice calm, not wanting to poke the angry bear known as Joel.

The girl smiled in a way that said she had more to say than what she was telling as she knelt next to you. “No. Not really.”

“Ellie,” Joel groaned, taking a step closer as the teen sat next to you, her shoulder lightly bumping against your own as her back pressed against the wall.

“I’m not, by the way,” you looked between them both. “Infected.” Looking down to the toddler in your arms, snorting as she tried to hide further into your threadbare shirt, you couldn’t help but smile softly. “Neither is she.”

“What’s her name?” Ellie reached out a finger for the little one to hold. It was taken tentatively, and given a firm shake like she had seen countless adults do around her in the QZ you’d been in before.

It made Joel snort out a laugh through his nose.

“Sarah.”

The laugh turned into a choking sound, quickly melting into a coughing fit as Joel bent over at his waist, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought for air.

“You okay, old man?”

You tried to stifle the smile Ellie’s comment brought to your face before you turned your gaze back up to Joel once again.

After a long moment, he stood up straight with a huff. “Fine.” Another long pause. “Just swallowed wrong.”

Wanna be tagged if/when I write any future Joel stuff? Here’s how to sign up!

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐁𝐃𝐒𝐌 [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: dom!Blade x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, bondage, rough sex, cumshot.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Blade is created for BDSM. And no one will convince me otherwise (｢• ω •)｢

art: @tiredceles_

It's so hard not to touch that amazing back at least once a day. His muscles contract so sexually, and his shoulder blades cast a seductive shadow on his skin as he rummages through the drawer. Your gaze slides over every scar that adorns his body. Every time, as if for the first time, you notice the muscular, embossed forearms and shiny long tarry hair, slightly blocking your view of the full picture of his magnificent back. You want to reach forward, gather the black curls in your palm, tossing them on his shoulder, and shower kisses on every scar on his pale skin. You're so annoyed by those gray trousers that fit his buttocks too perfectly, making you feel dissatisfied and even angry because you can't touch him.

Your hands are tightly tied behind your back with a rope that almost painfully cuts into your skin. You are once again desperately testing its strength, but your strength is not enough to even reach the knot with your fingers, let alone tear it to shreds. And you want it so much that tears of despair almost come to your eyes.

— Don't fidget, you know it's useless, — Blade's low, velvety voice echoes in the silence of the room while he's still rummaging through the drawer, talking to himself without turning his head in your direction.

— It's cruel, you know.

— We haven't even started yet, — you can't see his face, but you're pretty sure his lips are stretched into a smug grin.

You hear the sound of a drawer closing and Blade finally turns around. In one of his bare palms there is a wide satin black ribbon, and in the other there is a silicone red gag, perfectly combined with the scarlet hue of the ropes that tighten your soft flesh. You nervously swallow the lump in your throat when your gaze stops at the threatening gag.

— What is it, are you really afraid?

The expression on your face changes like a switch when you furrow your eyebrows and give Blade an angry look.

— N-no! It's just that I've never done this before, — you wanted to sound confident, but your voice sounded low because of the unpleasant feeling squeezing your stomach.

— Great, — after these words, the last thing you see is how the gag falls on the bedside table when Blade straightens the ribbon in his hands. The next moment, black satin covers your eyes with pitch darkness. You squirm on the soft mattress, bringing your hips together to somehow cover your body, feeling the tingling touch of fear to your spine. A sad thought flashed through your head that you were deprived of the opportunity to even visually enjoy Blade's body, which made your lips tighten in a grimace of resentment. But it wasn't for long either.

You felt strong fingers pressing into your jaw, forcibly forcing you to open your mouth when something round and pleasant to the touch touched your lips, but dense enough that pressing your teeth could not flatten the material. A thick belt stretches across your soft cheeks, closing at the back of your head. Ah, now the gag you were so afraid of has come into play.

You felt so defenseless and as if you were even more naked, considering that even before that there was not a single hint of anything covering your naked body, except for tight ropes, on the contrary, only emphasizing all the charms of your figure. Although it was all so new and scary, you trust Blade and take a deep breath through your nose, trying to calm your nerves that are stretched like strings.

— If only you could see how amazing you look right now, — Blade laughed hoarsely, and you realized that he was still looming over you, just like before he made it impossible for you to see him. — Hm-m… I think I can show you.

You heard the rustle of the fabric of his trousers. Having lost your sight, all the sounds around you seemed to become ten times clearer, it was… So unusual.

While you were trying to comprehend the new unusual sensations, there was a clicking sound in the silence of the room. You knew right away what had happened. You squirmed, pulling on tight ropes, unable to utter a word, spewing only incoherent grunts from your throat.

— When we're done, I'll take another photo so that you can see yourself in all its glory afterwards.

How annoying he is. You could have sworn that right now your face looked no less red than the ropes snaking through your body and the gag already glistening with your saliva in the dim light of the room.

The suffocating embarrassment immediately receded into the background when you felt a painful grip on your hips. Blade's fingers dug into your soft sides to push you onto the bed and turn you over on your stomach. You unconsciously arched your back, fidgeting on the soft sheets, giving Blade a delightful view of the curve of your buttocks when you were still trying to hide at least your crotch by bringing your hips together.

In less than a couple of seconds, a strong, hard pressure spread your legs apart, making you squeal softly. Your face pressed into the sheets, making it difficult to breathe, as Blade wrapped his big hands around your hips again, lifting your ass up, forcing you to rest your knees on the bed. It was a terribly uncomfortable position due to the fact that your hands were still tied behind your back, which did not give you any space between your face and the mattress. You whined in alarm, panting and already regretting that you had agreed to this at all. The only way you could get even a little air was to turn your head to the side when you felt his hands let go of your legs and you heard the rustle of his trousers again. Louder than the last time he took his phone out of his pocket.

— You look like a slut. I wish I had the patience and time to capture this sight too.

There are so many curses running through your head that you will definitely remember to say them out loud as soon as your mouth is free of the annoying gag that absorbs any words swirling on the tip of your tongue. Your legs immediately tensed in an attempt to close your hips when you felt a sharp pain on your buttocks, which spread like heat under your delicate skin.

— Don't even think about it, — you felt his hot breath against your ear and soft hair streaming down your back. — You're going to lie still like an obedient bitch, am I making myself clear?

Another whiplash, and you felt how hard, hot, such an ideal member for you plunged into your insides with amazing ease. You were so caught up in your lump of irritation that settled in your stomach that you didn't notice how much you were actually aroused by what was happening.

You sobbed, desperately trying to get as much air into your lungs as possible in that position. His cock throbbed so pleasantly inside you, trembling every time you made those sweet sounds of despair, either because you wanted to break out and touch him so much, or because Blade remained completely motionless, pressing his groin into your buttocks, as if savoring the moment, in which you finally gave up.

— Good girl. If you had behaved so obediently from the very beginning, I would have fucked you senseless by now.

His long fingers possessively slid, squeezed, massaged your body, paying special attention to your burning buttocks, throbbing painfully after his brutal blows. You wanted so much to pull away and plant yourself on his cock with the same force with which he pushed into you, but all you could think about was that one wrong move from you and he would deprive you of any pleasure for disobedience. He's done it before and you're not as sure about anything as you are that he's going to do it now.

You could hear his quiet but heavy breathing, you could feel his greedy, domineering gaze sliding along the ropes, which would surely cover your body with purple bruises, so tightly they tightened your skin.

— Do you want me to start moving?

You almost screamed at how cruelly he bullied you, knowing full well that you couldn't answer him, but you obediently nodded your head in agreement.

Blade reveled in your charming obedience, despite the fact that you were probably beside yourself with rage. This is the level of submission that you should always strive for. You have to feel his undeniable dominance over you, you have to listen to every word he says, you have to remember who you belong to and who gives you pleasure. You have to remember who can take it away from you.

Noticing the tears that he loves to see running down your cheeks, Blade's cock twitched inside you. You screamed and dug your nails into the tight ropes as his hips abruptly began to push towards you in a frenzied rhythm, and the room was filled with the sounds of loud skin-on-skin slaps and his growls. Strong fingers painfully dug into the flesh of your buttocks while Blade impaled your immobilized body on his cock in a hard rough rhythm, knocking out any hint of air from your lungs. Shiny drops of saliva mixed with salty tears, flowing down the matte surface of the ball in your mouth, drawing a wet spot on the sheet under your cheek.

Every hard thrust made you scream as the tip of his cock pounded into you all the way. It hurts, but it feels so good. Your mind was fluttering with a mixture of thrills, tormenting your body more than usual due to heightened senses. You so desperately wanted to scream his name over and over again, begging him not to stop until that knot at the bottom of your stomach, as tight as the one that fixes the rope on your wrists, comes loose, spreading blissful waves through every cell of your body.

The reddish tips of Blade's bangs stuck to his forehead as small beads of sweat poured down his chiseled cheekbones. Velvety lips parted, and hoarse, delicious moans burst from his throat, caressing your sharpened hearing. His hips don't slow down for a second as his thick cock swells in your contracting walls, resisting every time he empties your insides.

— Just look at yourself, — is another pun that you would have snapped at if you didn't care so much about any words coming off his tongue right now. — You resisted so much, and now you're squeezing around my dick harder than usual. Do you like? Do you like being fucked like a whore?

His thrusts become more and more careless and deep, his hips collide more and more whiplashingly with your ass, causing your eyes to roll under the satin ribbon, and your teeth to desperately dig into the silicone ball in your mouth. You can feel his cock throbbing inside, and your stomach is cramping from a familiar, but such an intense feeling that makes you squirm in your shackles until a single thought covers your mind — you want to cum so badly on this divine penis.

You hear a hoarse loud moan, merging into an obscene symphony with your sobs, screams and the sounds of his thrusts into your bleeding walls, your head feels heavy when you press your face into the mattress, convulsively shuddering from the unearthly orgasm that has fallen on your exhausted body. A heavy cock bursts out of your wildly spasming insides to pour hot sticky cum on the scarlet ropes and the delicate skin of your back.

Blade is still hovering over you, breathing heavily and trying to recover from an incredibly intoxicating orgasm, even for him. Your body goes limp while you're still basking in the warm waves of pleasure relaxing every muscle, barely holding on to the last threads of reason so as not to lose consciousness.

A sinister grin stretches across Blade's face.

— Do you still mind doing it again?

[thedroneranger]

The Last Unicorn

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Javy "Coyote" Machado

Synopsis: Getting caught between Natasha and Javy leads to a unique experience.

Note: A horribly late entry for @sushiwriterhere's Top Gun Threesomeissance 2023 event—thank you for inviting me to participate! I have a bad bout of writer's block, but forced myself to push through and write this. Took longer than expected, but I wanted to finish it. It's also my first threesome, so I welcome feedback but be kind!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, ffm, threesome.

Word count: 5.3k

Javy hated when Natasha flirted with other people. Every phone number, every touch pissed him off. 

“Hold that glass any tighter, and you’re gonna be wearing your beer.” Jake said as he sat down next to Javy and tracked his best friend’s gaze to Natasha. 

She was on the other side of the bar, hand wrapped around a beer pint while a fresh-off-the-carrier ensign made her laugh. Jake never could figure out Javy’s infatuation with Natasha, and he also couldn’t figure out Javy’s refusal to admit he had feelings for her. 

Jake had lost count of the number of times Javy had drunkenly told him he and Natasha were purely physical. Every time Jake just nodded his head and drank his beer. Mentally, he would run through the rolodex of moments that said otherwise. 

But now Javy and Natasha were in some sort of argument, and not speaking to each other. Not unusual. They would kiss and make up eventually.

Both Jake and Javy were deep in separate thoughts when you approached. “Are you ready for another round?” You asked with a smile. The two men nodded as you walked away to get them fresh beers. 

You’d been working at The Hard Deck long enough to recognize Jake and Javy. You knew they were friends with the bar owner, Penny. You also knew Jake could go home with anyone in this bar. Javy, too. While Jake usually took advantage, Javy always left with the same brunette. 

Jake and Javy also recognized you. They made half-hearted passes at you only when Penny wasn’t around, and then made sure to make up for it in tips. 

You were convinced Penny had threatened them about fraternizing with her staff. It made you chuckle to think that Penny would shake down her customers before her own staff. It also sounded very much like Penny. 

Natasha, the brunette Javy usually went home with, either was exempt or just didn’t care. She shamelessly flirted with the bartenders. 

You found her attention flattering. 

Any man with functioning eyes thought you were attractive. Of course, this meant you put up with a gamut of flirting, catcalls and comments. It was the most exhausting part of your shifts.

However, Natasha’s flirting felt less burdensome. Probably because she was a woman and knew more about how you ticked. Or maybe Natasha wasn’t even flirting with you? How did you know?! Were you being presumptuous? Confusing friendliness for more? After all, other women didn’t flirt with you. Or maybe they did? Maybe they did but were more subtle, and you just didn’t have a clue? You were used to subtle-as-a-neon-sign men.

Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming. Are women better kissers? Are women truly better lovers? You had had your fair share of subpar romps with men. Are women actually better at li—

Shoot! Javy’s beer overflowed. Focus! You needed to focus. You wiped your hand, snagged a clean glass and poured another beer. Smile back on, you took the fresh pints to Jake and Javy. They thanked you, and you turned to find the next patron in need.

Natasha was staring straight at you. You bit your lip, clenched your fist and headed in her direction. “Hey!” She greeted you while leaning across the bar top. 

“Hey!” You echoed, also leaning across the counter so you could hear better.

Jake and Javy watched your exchange. “Goddammit, she gets off on breaking the rules.” Javy grunted. 

Jake sniggered as he took a sip of his beer. “I think she’s genuinely into her. She doesn’t hit on any of the other bartenders.” They continued to watch you and Natasha while sipping their beers. You laughed at something Natasha said, and she gently touched your arm. Then you took her empty glass to replenish her drink. 

An idea struck Javy. He gulped his beer and pushed the empty glass toward your side of the counter. Always attentive, you noticed and noted to visit him after giving Natasha her pint.

Natasha kept her eye on you as you floated over to Jake and Javy. Both men were so focused on you, they didn’t even notice Natasha glaring at them. She watched as Javy said something that made you laugh. 

Then, of course, Jake chimed in. Heaven forbid he not be in the center of attention. She scoffed as she sat her beer on the counter.

Javy was flirting with you, and Jake was wingmanning for him! Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes. Penny was nowhere to be found when Natasha needed her the most. It was calculated. Normally, Natasha was the flirt. She sought out people to piss off Javy. 

“What are you up to?” Natasha said under her breath. She practically chugged her beer and flagged you down for another. 

All night, you volleyed between Javy and Natasha, refilling their drinks and politely engaging with them. You were completely oblivious to the silent war raging between the pair. 

As the night went on, the bar grew busier and Javy and Natasha couldn’t have all your attention. While you were serving some other patrons, Jake sidled up to Natasha and leaned on the bar beside her. 

“Bagman.” She spat without looking at him, sticking her face in her pint. 

“Bird brain.” He turned and waited for her to react. 

She glared at him as she set her drink down. “What’s Javy think he’s doing?”

“Getting under your skin, and I’d say it’s working.” His gaze went from Natasha to you. You were busy pouring a line of shots. “Just remember she’s not a piece of meat.”

Natasha was stunned. “There’s rich coming from you!” She told Jake. 

Jake gave her his million-dollar smile and leaned in. “Leave the usin’ and abusin’ to me.” He grabbed his beer, ready to return to his perch on the other side of the bar. “Stop playing with Javy, too.”

“Why don’t you impart that wisdom on your best friend? It takes two!” Natasha shouted as Jake disappeared into the crowd.

By the time Jake settled into his seat beside Javy, Natasha was chatting you up. He knew exactly what you two were chatting about. Based on your body language you hadn’t committed yet. 

Both forearms on the counter Natasha leaned toward you. You mirrored her stance so she could speak closer to your ear in the loud bar. 

“What time do you get off work?” she asked. 

“Bar closes at two, but since I have seniority I can leave first if the crowd dies down,” you explained.

“How about a nightcap at my place?” Natasha followed up.

You were taken aback. You weren’t ready for this moment. “I’ve never been with a woman,” you blurted.

“Same rules apply.” Natasha playfully winked. “No pressure. However, I’d love to have a drink with you, at the very least,” she said in earnest. “And I’d be happy to be your first.” Natasha paused. “Whenever you’re ready.” You both smiled. 

“I’ll keep you posted.” You confirmed before parting to serve another patron. 

Javy and Jake watched the exchange from their seats. “Looks like you won’t be in her bed tonight.” Jake referred to you.

Without skipping a beat, Javy said, “Nah, all three of us will be in Nat’s bed, instead.”

Jake nearly spit out his beer. He had never heard his best friend be so bold. They looked at each other. “You’re serious aren’t you?” 

“As a heart attack.” Javy confirmed. The jukebox queue mellowed and the crowd thinned as Jake probed Javy about his plan. Once he was informed, Jake disappeared to take his pick of the Hard Deck smorgasbord and go home. 

Meanwhile, Javy continued to watch you as you ended your shift and accompanied Natasha to the parking lot. He figured he had time for one more beer before joining you.

Until then, Natasha was focused solely on you. The drive to her place was short, but the playful roast over your music choices helped you unwind.

Once parked, Natasha led you by the hand into her apartment. She kept up the banter as she let you choose the wine. Everything felt easy as you nestled together on the couch. 

Warm from the wine, you pliantly slipped onto Natasha’s lap. Her hands ran from your knees to your thighs and then rested on your hips as your hands explored her arms and neck.

Finally, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. Your hips rolled forward a little, which enticed Natasha to bring her thumbs to the creases of your thighs. Your lips fit perfectly against hers, and you smiled into the kiss when she did. 

Your tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and she gladly premised you to deepen the kiss. Natasha met you by curling her fingers to your hair at the base of your skull. 

The tension had you moaning into her mouth. You broke the kiss to allow her to press wet kisses down your neck. Eyes shut, you bit your lip as she continued to pepper you with affection. 

Preoccupied, you barely noticed as her hands slipped under your shirt and massaged you through your bra. It wasn’t until her fingers dipped past the lined lace and pinched your nipples you acknowledged her. She smirked and repeated her motions to pull more noises from you.

You were a moaning mess, leaning into her touch and rocking your pelvis against hers. Natasha encouraged you with every touch of her lips and caress of her fingers.

Natasha managed to get you out of your shirt and had your jeans unbuttoned, when a sharp knock on the door nearly sent you rocketing through the roof. She tried to keep you going but you were distracted.

As you and Natasha attempted to untangle yourselves so she could answer the door, the knocking grew more rapid. You shooed her away with one final kiss. She kept a smile on her face until she turned to face the door. 

Fortunately, you weren’t within sight or earshot. Before answering, Nataha took a deep breath and put on her signature smirk. 

“What do you want, Machado?” She leaned on the doorframe as Javy stared at her. He looked casual with his hands in his pockets and the top few undone buttons of his shirt exposing his chest. 

“Are you looking for a third?” He asked coolly. 

Natasha had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as she stood straight up. “You can’t be serious?”

He shrugged. “Can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” He stood square to Natasha. “I know you’re game.” Javy reached out and dipped two fingers into Natasha’s front pocket, pulling her toward him. 

She stared at him as she took a step closer. “Why were we mad at each other?” she inquired. Her gaze dipped from his eyes to his lips momentarily. 

Javy shrugged again. “Can’t say I recall.” He was slowly closing the gap between them.  

“Me either,” Natasha said. She could feel Javy’s hot breath in her face.  “Apologize, and I’ll let you in.”

He smirked. “Apologize for what? I thought we forgot what we were fighting about?” He stopped moving, awaiting a response. 

“I’m convinced you were at fault.” She closed the gap, pushing her lips against his. Natasha cradled Javy’s face as his arms wrapped around her waist. 

After a few seconds she pulled away. “It’s her first time with a woman. I don’t want you to ruin it.” She gave him a dangerous look. 

Javy couldn’t help but smile. Natasha’s concern for others was one of the endearing things about her. “It might be helpful to have some familiar energy in the mix.”

“Everything is her choice,” Natasha told him. 

“Absolutely.” Javy agreed. 

“Even you joining.”

“Even me joining.” He agreed. 

Unsure of what was taking so long, you’d put your shirt on and buttoned your pants. The wine was too enticing to pass up, so you poured yourself another glass and paged through an old aviation magazine Natasha had laying on the coffee table. 

Finally, she reappeared with Javy. “Hi!” You hoped you managed to somewhat mask the surprise in your voice. 

“Hey,” Javy replied casually with a bright smile.

“Wine?” You offered as though it were your home. Javy looked at Natasha who gave a slight nod. The three of you sat down, drank wine and bantered. You were tucked between the pair on the couch. Javy’s arm laid along the sofa behind your head, while Natsha’s hand rested on your thigh.

When your glass was empty, you stood up. “What are you doing?” Natasha asked. 

“I was thinking I should get going. I don’t want to impose on your evening.”

Natasha passively waved her hand. “If anything, Javy imposed.” She threw him a look. He nervously scratched the back of his head and flashed a cheeky smile in your direction. 

“I’d love for you to stay and finish what we started,” Natasha said. “I’d love for both of you to stay, if you’re comfortable with that.” 

Your gaze floated to Javy. “It’s your choice,” he said. “I don’t want to impose but I’d love to stay. Participate, even. If you’ll have me.”

“He’s very enthusiastic.” Natasha added as she glanced at him and pat his knee. He grinned. 

In your wildest dreams you’d never imagined you’d be propositioned for a threesome. Let alone by a couple. Actually, were they a couple? Before your thoughts could swirl too much, Natasha slid her fingers into your hand and pulled you back onto the couch between them. 

She looked at you as she let her knuckles skim up your arms. “What do you say?” 

You were looking at her lips. “Do you do this often?” Your gaze came back to meet hers. 

She shook head. “This would be the first time.” Her knuckle traced your jaw. “Javy and I only sleep with each other.” Natasha was looking at your lips, leaning closer.

“I haven’t been with anyone recently and am on birth control,” you replied.

Your tongue darted across your lower lip and Natasha’s pulled into a sweet smile. “Perfect.” Your lips finally met.

Her hand found the back of your head and guided you as she deepened the kiss. Soon you were kneeling on the couch cushions with your knees slotted. Natasha rocked herself against your kneecap for some friction, and you mirrored her actions. 

A small moan escaped your lips as you caught her knee just right. “Holy, shit,” Natasha mumbled as you continued to make out. She pulled you further up her thigh, so you were closer. Your chests touching and her hand wrapped around your hips. Your hands were loosely splayed over her shoulders. 

“Let me take you to bed.” She huffed as she pulled away. Her pupils were dilated with desire. You felt so powerful as you stared at her. Her chest heaved, waiting for your reply. 

A groan had her looking past you. You turned to find Javy at the other end of the couch. He had given in and was palming his hard-on. “Do you want some help with that?” you asked. Both he and Natasha looked at you. 

Natasha combed her fingers through your hair. “Only if you want to,” she said softly. You looked between her and Javy. He continued to massage his bulge. Silently, you slid from Natasha’s lap, and slipped onto the floor in front of Javy. 

While you moved his hand and began to unfasten his pants, he scooted to the edge of the sofa. Together, you slipped his jeans down his legs and tossed them aside. Your palms ran up his thighs as you leaned forward into his lap. 

A smile graced your lips as you thought about how Javy’s face wasn’t the only pretty thing about him. Then, you gingerly took his length in one hand, letting your thumb swipe over the tip. Precum slicked the pad. Javy watched as you brought your thumb to your mouth and sucked his essence from it. 

His lips quirked at the soft pop! your lips made. A hum rose from your throat as you leaned forward to kiss his abs. Javy’s breath hitched, which made you smile.

You sprinkled kisses across Javy’s abdominals and thighs. Finally, your lips touched his cock. He twitched so hard when you finally kissed his tip, you thought he might instantly cum. Palms planted on the floor, you slipped the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. A light groan escaped Javy.

It was intense, but you held his gaze and you continued to swallow him inch by inch. Your tongue laved along the underside of his cock. You enjoyed the thick pulsing vein, which you softly prodded now and then. The first time, his hips bucked. The second time, you felt his length twitch.

Javy was first to break eye contact. Once he was completely down your throat, he couldn’t help but loll his head against the back of the couch and moan. A smile crept across your features the best it could for having a thick cock stuffed in your mouth. 

A hand grazed across your shoulders as Natasha knelt beside you. “Can I touch you?” she asked. You nodded the best you could. Natasha’s hand was in your hair, combing it out of your face. She placed soft kisses on the back of your neck and along your shoulders as she situated herself behind you. 

Lips still on your neck, Natasha’s hands reached around to unbutton your pants. Then she dipped a hand in, following the plane of your belly. She smiled against your neck. “No panties. You little minx!” She kissed you more. 

“You’re so wet,” she cooed. Her fingers easily slipped through your slick and tugged your clit. You moaned around Javy from her touch. “That’s it.” Natasha’ voice was sultry in your ear. Almost involuntary, your hips began to match her rhythm as she sandwiched your clit between her fingers and slid them back and forth.

You moaned around Javy’s cock again. This time, you gagged a little. “Holy, shit.” Javy’s breath hitched again. “Nat, tell her how good she is.” His voice was strained.

“But baby, do you want her to take you to completion? So soon?” Natasha asked.

“You decide,” he responded in a single breath.

Natasha’s hand disappeared from between your legs. You were disappointed at the loss of stimulation. But her hand soon was tugging your roots, easing you away from Javy. Her other hand replaced your mouth, sliding up and down Javy’s length. 

“I didn’t think you could look prettier, but you're gorgeous after sucking his cock.” You felt yourself clench around nothing at her compliment. She also swallowed your whimpers as she covered your mouth with hers.

Once again, you were in Natasha’s lap, grinding against her thigh as she licked into your mouth. She had one hand down the back of your pants, palming your ass while the other was still pumping Javy. You’d managed to get your hands up her shirt and were massaging her through her bra.

“Fuck!” You broke apart as Javy sprung off the couch. He hauled you up by the elbow, and Natasha quickly followed. You stumbled and Natasha helped steady you with a hand on your hip as Javy led the three of you to what you assumed was Natasha’s bedroom. 

He let his hand slide down your arm until your hand was in his. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, pulling you until you were tucked to his chest. You’d been looking at his lips the whole time and met his gaze, giving him a small nod. His kiss was softer than Nat’s. Javy’s palm came to rest on your cheek. When you parted, he let his thumb glide across your bottom lip.

Natasha stepped behind you and slid a hand back into your unfastened pants. Her chin rested on your shoulder. You looked back at her and turned to face her. She smiled and kissed you before walking you backward toward the bed. You let yourself fall onto the mattress when your knees hit the edge. Natasha helped you shimmy out of your pants. 

Before you could move, she was on her knees between yours, placing kisses on your inner thighs. She held your gaze as she slipped one of your legs over her shoulder, and pushed the other back for better access. “Relax,” she said between kisses. You watched her. Your heart seemed like it might pound right out of your chest onto the floor. 

She held your gaze as she placed the lightest kiss on your cleft. Then, her tongue dipped between your folds. You exhaled with pleasure as her broad tongue glided the length of your clit and then narrowed into your hole. Her free hand found yours and entwined your fingers as she tongued you. 

You couldn’t help the moans escaping you. You also couldn’t keep your back on the bed. Only Natasha’s hand was keeping you grounded as you writhed above her.

Unnoticed, Javy made his way over to the bed. He shed his clothing and slid beside you. You turned to look at him. He placed a sweet kiss on your forehead, then your nose and finally pressed his lips to yours. Again, his hand found yours. He and Natasha both supported you as you moaned and arched your back off the bed. That delicious tension was building low in your stomach. You wanted Natasha to get you there so bad. 

“Javy,” Your breathing was ragged. “Put your cock in my mouth.” There was a pause. “Please.” He let out a light laugh as he maneuvered to cradle your head and slip himself into your mouth. You moaned as his tip stretched your cheek. Languidly, he continued to thrust into your mouth sometimes hitting your cheek and sometimes the back of your throat.

Javy and Natasha fell into complementary rhythms. “C’mon, come for me,” she coaxed you. She switched to two fingers pumping in and out of you, making sure to hit that spongy spot each time. You felt your vision fading as your orgasm grew nearer. 

Finally, you tumbled over the edge with Javy’s cock filling your mouth, Natsha’s fingers stuffed in your pussy and her mouth sucking your clit. It felt like your whole body came off the bed as you writhed and moaned. Javy and Natasha held your hands through it all.

As you came back to your senses, you heard them praising you. You were laying between the pair as their fingers softly skimmed your curves. You felt flush as you looked at Natasha. “That was amazing.” She smiled in response. “Maybe the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” 

“Nat definitely knows a thing or two,” Javy added. You turned to look at him. He had the proudest grin. 

Natasha’s soft laugh drew your attention back to her. “Javy’s no slouch.” It was cute to hear them talk up each other.

“Can I try to repay the favor?” you asked.

“Gladly.” Natasha smirked and leaned in to kiss you. Before it got too heated, she broke it to ditch her clothing. Quickly, she returned to you, palming your breasts and rolling your nipples until they hardened. 

Curious, you dropped your mouth to her nipple and swirled your tongue around it until it peaked. You showed the other the same attention and then alternated between sucking on each. Natasha arched into your affection. Her hand tangled in your hair as you pleasured her.

Javy watched you two before slipping off the bed. He reached for you and dipped his hands into the hinges of your thighs to position you on your knees at the end of the bed. You moaned and released Natasha with a smack. Before Javy pulled you away, you placed a kiss on each pert nipple. Natasha followed you, nestling her hips into your arms, so you could wrap your arms around her legs and easily bury your face in her pussy.

Javy lined himself up behind you, sliding him length between your cheeks, and then he slid his tip through your puffy, soaked folds. He grunted, letting his pelvis hit your ass. 

You canted forward slightly, bumping your nose into Natasha. She softly chuckled as you gasped. The tip of your nose was now wet. She looked at you and then dropped her gaze to herself. Your eyes followed to see her middle and index fingers spreading her lips. “Oh!” You watched as her fingers slid down her clit and disappeared inside her.

She and Javy exchanged looks above you as he pushed himself into you. A gasp escaped you as Javy slowly sank into you. You spread your knees wider enjoying his thickness. He kneaded your ass as he let you adjust to him. 

“Doesn’t he feel amazing?” Nat asked as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of herself. “Javy, is her pussy amazing?”

“Yeah, baby. So tight. So warm.” As he found a pace he liked, one hand moved to your clit. The other found purchase on the bed as he leaned over you to kiss Natasha. She happily sat forward to press her mouth to his.

“Oh. My. God.” You said with each thrust. Javy continued to draw tight circles on your clit. Fists filled with bedding, you braced yourself the best you could. You were still bumping into Natasha occasionally.  

Finally she pulled away from Javy and got back in her initial position. “I can’t wait any longer, can you please put your pretty mouth on my pussy?”

“Will you tell me what to do?” you asked innocently. She moaned, turned on by your naivety. 

“Of course.” She winked at you. 

As you lowered your head, Javy thrust just right to hit your G spot. Your breath hitched and a curt moan left you. Attentive, he repeated his actions and you rewarded him with more moans. 

Natasha couldn’t stand it anymore, she laced her fingers in your trusses and guided your lips to her heat. “Stick your tongue out. Flat.” You did as you were told and Natasha ground her slit against it. 

She sighed and continued stimulating herself on you. Enjoying the sensations at both ends, you felt the tension in your belly building again. 

“Suck me.” Natasha let go of your hair and guided you until your mouth was on her. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips flush to her clit and sucked. She tossed her head back as you applied more suction.

Instinctually, you slid two fingers into her hole. She gasped and began to roll her hips in tandem with your fingers pumping in and out. You loved the silky feeling of her on your fingers. 

Resting your mouth, you pressed the pad of your thumb to Natasha’s clit. You never had your fingers in a pussy other than your own. Wanting to please Natasha, and curious, you changed your angle with each probe. Finally, you found that rubbery patch on her upper wall. 

Her breath hitched and she squeezed around your fingers. You zeroed in, come-hithering your digits against that spot and putting your mouth on her. 

“You’re a natural.” She moaned as she put her hand on the back of your head and pressed herself against your face. You hummed against her pussy, and she clenched her thighs around your head. 

Javy helped hold Natasha’s thighs wide. Still buried between your legs, Javy leaned over top of you and placed a hand on each of her kneecaps. You alternated between sucking on her clit and dipping your tongue into her while he held her open.

“Keep doing it,” Natasha whined, closing her eyes and biting her lip. Suddenly, her eyes shot open. “I want to ride your face. Javy, flip her over,” she commanded. 

No time to react, you yelped as Javy easily rolled you on your back. He slipped back into your pussy and moved at a listless pace. His hands traversed your hips and belly. 

Meanwhile, Natasha demanded you stick out your tongue as she straddled your head while facing Javy. Immediately, she began to slide back and forth against your broad tongue. “Yes! Yes!” she chanted. You could tell she was close to her peak. To help push her closer, Javy put his month over one of her nipples and palmed the other. Your hands moved to grope her ass and spread her wider.

Nat stopped moving, and you and Javy took over. You laved your tongue all over her, sucking her lips, nipping her clit and planting kisses here and there. Natasha gasped when you began to tongue fuck her. She moaned and bounced a little against your face, which was the final piece to her twitching against your mouth.

You continued spreading Natasha and plunging your tongue into her heat. The task proved difficult when Javy guided Natasha’s head between the two of you. She stroked your clit with her tongue and fingers. Meanwhile, Javy began to pick his pace back up, thrusting into you.

The tension in your stomach tightened, and you were on the verge of overstimulated. Your head lolled back on the bed and your back arched as your second orgasm washed over you. Natasha and Javy worked you through it.

About to cum himself, Javy said, “Look at me,” to Natasha. She stared at him with doe eyes as he pulled out of you. A few pumps of his fist, and warm viscous ropes glazed Nat’s face. She gasped as the last drops hit her skin. Javy helped her climb off you, and he encouraged you to clean her up.

She knelt beside you on the bed, palms planted. You swiped two fingers across her bottom lip, before pushing them into her mouth. She licked them cleaned, and then sucked them before giving you your hand back. You then cleaned the rest of her face with your tongue.

Natasha pulled you on top of her and lured you into a makeout session. While the two of you kissed until your lips were numb, Javy snuck away. 

He returned just as you separated. He cleaned you up with warm damp washcloths and planted a kiss on each of you when he was done. He also brought you water with electrolytes. Then, he tossed two of his t-shirts at you while he pulled on boxers. 

The three of you climbed into bed, he and Natasha on either side of you. Natasha rested her head on your chest and lazily drew circles on your thigh under the sheets while you were tucked into Javy’s side. He pressed kisses to your temple every now and then, and his fingers played with Natasha’s hair.

You were nearly asleep when Natasha pressed a couple kisses to your jaw. You moaned. “I don’t think I can do another round tonight.”

“But you want another round? Or two?” Natasha’s tone was hopeful. Your heart fluttered at the thought. Tonight was easily the best sex you had ever had. Why wouldn’t you want to do it again?

Javy’s hand rubbed your shoulder and bicep. “I can speak for both of us when I say we’d love another round. Many rounds.” He kissed your forehead. 

“Let’s sleep on it and discuss over breakfast,” Natasha suggested as she settled back into her spot with her head on your chest. “Javy’s a unicorn in the kitchen.” The three of you giggled before exchanging goodnight kisses and nodding off to sleep.

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[bubblesthemonsterartist]

i told the stars about you

The wide expanse of stars twinkle outside her window, glittering like goldstone. Shirayuki wonders if it’s her imagination or if the skies in the North truly are more arresting. The nights of Wistal were beautiful, yes, but fogged by firelight, paler perhaps than the shades of blue and purple she can make out here. Or was she just not looking? Her impressions could be shaded by the rarity of a clear evening in the North, or perhaps the memory of those early years in Clarines have faded. And yet-

And yet something about this night sky in particular strikes her.

She hugs herself, the heat of another body still soaked into hers long after they’ve returned to their respective rooms. Long after she has changed into her nightgown and set aside all the accoutrements of professionalism, brushing her hair until it crackled with static. Long after she stationed herself at this window, looking up to once familiar stars for answers.

Emotionally exhausted, but... happy. So, so happy.

It must be her imagination how she can still smell the wool and leather and wild that never quite left him. Can still feel his broad hand alighted upon her back, tentative as if anything more might break him. Can still feel the shape of his words murmured against her ear.

“Keep this?”

Shirayuki’s eyes squeeze shut, tight as the fist in her chest. Always, always, she would never think to do otherwise. She would keep it, treasure it, honor the bravery it took him to offer it.

Her grip tightens on herself, but it’s- not the same, not enough.

She can bear it no longer.

Shirayuki spins on her heels, flying towards the door connecting their rooms. Without a moments pause, she flings it open and there—

There are two wide eyes, staring into hers, hand hovering in the space between them.

“Oh. Miss. I—”

“Obi! I- Earlier. We were interrupted and I just thought—”

…that our hug wasn’t finished.

Embarrassment starts to creep up her neck, disbelief at her own reasoning. Hands flutter helplessly in that too large of an expanse between them, and she grasps at nothing for words, hoping to catch a more rational thought. But then she looks up at him, helpless. Between the two of them, he was always the better one at reading her meaning when she didn’t know what to say, and—

His eyes are red at the corners, glossy in the dim light.

The air pulls out of her lungs. He hugged her before. Just an hour ago. Held her, even. So she doesn’t think, she just… flings herself forward, arms wrapping themselves around his middle. He must’ve taken his night gown from Eisetsu’s place, the silk feels familiar. Far better than either of them could afford. She’s half a mind to scold him for stealing from their host, but—

But his ribs collapse under her hold, spine rounding as his body curls over hers. He pulls her closer. So, so gingerly. She doesn’t know how to tell him that her body can take his strength, too. That he can- that he can hold her the way his body needs.

He sucks a breath next to her ear as if in pain and alarm spikes up her spine. Did she hurt him??? Shirayuki braces her palms against his arms, arching backwards to take a look—

His hand tangles in her hair, pressing her face tight to his chest.

“Obi?” Her voice is muffled against his collarbone, sight blocked by the dark fabric of his clothes.

“Miss,” he breathes, voice hoarse, and it’s only now that she feels how he shakes, how he trembles, and—

Wetness spills onto her cheek. It’s not hers.

Not yet at least.

“I thought--” she chokes, wrapping her arms around him once more-- “that we weren’t done hugging it out yet.”

Laughter rattles out of him, his thumb stroking a line along the nape of her neck. “No, Miss.” Obi sniffs, his cheek resting against the crown of her head, and her eyes well. He can’t cry because that means she has to cry, too. “I don’t think we were.”

[tbowaut]

Shattering Mirror - Chapter 15 sneak peek

Tim has to learn how to roller skate for a mission, that's- yeah that's the context...

Over the next couple days, Tim's roller skating skills rapidly improved, their determination fueling their progress. Hours upon hours were spent in the mobility gym, with the sounds of wheels rolling across the polished floor echoing throughout. They started by perfecting the basics: maintaining balance, gaining speed, and turning with precision. Each repetition brought greater control and confidence and a rush of adrenaline they hadn’t realised they’d been missing. An excited grin grew tugged loose their lips as all the responsibility hushed quiet at the back of their mind.

As the sun rose and set, they soon incorporated agility exercises, deftly weaving through obstacle courses, ricocheting off inclines and performing daring acrobatic maneuvers on skates. Their body moved with grace and purpose, adapting to the newfound challenges. 

With a firm grasp on movement, Tim advanced to wielding various weapons. Swords sliced through the air, and bo staffs spun with deadly accuracy as they honed their skills, seamlessly blending martial prowess with the fluidity of skating.

Finally, sparring sessions with Kon put Tim's abilities to the test. Blows were exchanged, and strategies were refined, all while balancing precariously on their skates. Through trial and error, Tim quickly adapted and before the hour was up they’d successfully kicked Kryptonian butt to Jupiter and back. As Kon glared at them from the floor, they snickered with a slight feeling of pride.

“Hey,” Kon pouted, taking their hand to help him to his feet, “ don’t get cocky, I got you like twice today,” 

Humming non committedly in reply, Tim didn’t point out that it was 2/37, because really who was counting? Instead, they checked the time, finding only 4 minutes until they had to be across the mountain for the final mission briefing.

A playful smile slid on their face as they powered off the combat sensors for training. “Hey Kon,” They readied themself, angling toward the door. “Race ya,” 

And then Tim was out the door, speeding down the halls and leaving Kon spluttering behind them. Cackling and knowing they had mere seconds until Kon was on their tail, Tim used every shortcut they could think of and closed every door in Kon’s way.

Rounding a corner they got to a long hallway with Arsonal and Green Arrow, arguing and blocking the way. With their speed, Tim made a quick calculation as inspiration struck; Kon would win otherwise, and they were –maybe, debatably– competitive so with Newton on their side Tim gave it a shot. 

They built up speed, and jumped– bracing their legs on the walls in a spilt they pointed their toes at and incline. And like holding their hand out in the wind, they rose to the ceiling –soaring over the two screeching heroes below– before they tilted down to build back speed and rocketed down the hall; using their momentum to launch off another wall and change direction around the next corner.

They could hear Kon gaining on them as the entryway to the briefing room glowed a blue light down the dimly lit hallway. With a straight shot, they left an opening for Kon, reaching for their bow staff. They hooked it in the pocket of Kon’s leather jacket when he passed, slingshotting themself into the room and across the finish line.

At the crazy speed of flying Kryptonian and then some, Tim was forced to jump the meeting table even as they skidded to a stop. 

The room fell into a stunned silence as the squeal of Tim’s rubber wheels echoed off the walls. Nightwing's domino eyes widened momentarily before a smirk appeared on his face. "Looks like you had fun," he commented, amusement clear in his voice. “And you were complaining…” Tim couldn't help but return the smile with a shrug, still breathless from the exhilarating race.

Batman looked at Tim like they were the reason he was getting gray hair, giving Tim a long, suffering sigh as he gestured for them to take a seat. “I’m going to have to ban roller skates as well as skateboards in the manor.” He clicked, glaring at Dick who shrugged in response.

"We have a debriefing to start. Take your seats." He ordered, sweeping his cape in a tired way that meant Bruce was questioning why he ever had children.

Tim felt a wave of adrenaline ebb away, replaced with the familiar focus that came with the task at hand. They carefully maneuvered around the table, taking a seat beside their fellow teammates. Kon, red-faced and trying to hide a grin, settled into a chair next to Tim and Bart was vibrating in his chair on Tim’s otherside.

As everyone settled, Batman stood at the head of the table, his commanding presence filling the room. "Now that we're all here," he stated, his gaze sweeping across the assembled heroes, "let's–

Green Arrow burst into the room, giving Tim a haunted expression. “Batman! I think that one’s possessed” He accused pointing a finger, cupping his hand in a way that seemed to make him think Tim couldn’t hear he added in a whispering tone “...It can fly”

Bruce gave Tim a flat look that said ‘why are you like this?’ and Tim answered with an innocent shrug.

[since0202]

Taking Time—Fifty Four

Home is a person

Word Count: 12,959

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Abortion (I will bracket where it starts and ends in an obvious manner so you can avoid if needed <3).

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

Every step home has felt right so far. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been away for so long, but it feels like something has changed or shifted. And as I get closer, that feeling only gets stronger. Now, as I sink into that undeniable warmth, it’s hard to think otherwise at all. Soft, warm breath spans gently across my hair and I reach for the warm body nestled next to me. It must be Paul. How he knew I was here, I’m not sure, but in the halfway point between sleep and wake, I’m not sure of much. The soft body grunts and rolls closer to me, making soft sounds that lull me deeper into sleep. I want it always to be like this: sleepy mornings, just peace, before the sun cracks me open like an egg and burns me from the inside out. 

Maya rolled toward the low rumbling groan coupled with that hardy warmth she’d come to know so well when she was home. Paul was so soft. She ran her hands up and down his sides to a pleasant smacking sound coming from his lips. She burrowed closer for warmth, still in that holy toss between dreaming and awake and felt his warm breath flow over her hair. It almost felt wet. Maya inhaled a deep breath savoring his smell only to be met with a warm mildewy scent of dried fur and the forest. He must have only just phased back from rounds and the smell of his wolf form simply clung to him. It didn’t matter. Maya leaned her head up and was met with the his soft, warm, wet lips. Really wet. He kissed and dampened her entire face with his mouth, his tongue. 

Maya leaned back and groaned her dissent, but the onslaught kept coming, possibly even more eagerly than before, until her entire face was coated in saliva. Paul really had it coming. Maya’s face twisted into a grimace as she opened her eyes, only to be met with the towering dark frame of Leah’s german shepherd. 

“Blegh!” Maya managed before the dog continued with vigor to her dismay. She braced her arms across his chest and tried to push, but the thumping of his tail wagging only seemed to make him stronger as he continue to cover Maya’s face in fervent licks with delight that she was awake. 

Maya heard a laugh from the door before Keye said,”Yodel, that’s enough. Come here!” Yodel immediately hopped off the bed and hurtled toward Keye, standing at attention at her feet with his tongue lolling to one side. Keye dropped her hand to stroke his head affectionately, “I thought we said no more kissing dogs after that trip to Seattle when Becks convinced that forty year old bouncer she was old enough to get in by her expertise?” 

Maya rubbed her dog-drenched face on the pillow before rolling over and beginning to rub her eyes, “I remember that being you, not Becks.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Keye replied lazily as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until now.

“Come on, Leah’s making breakfast,” Keye stated from her place leaning up against the doorframe. As she plodded away softly, Maya heard Yodel following her dutifully down the small hallway to the kitchenette.

“Okay, but you still have a lot of explaining to do,” Maya called after her as she sat up and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. She didn’t even attempt a glance at her phone. The soft, gray morning light of Seattle pulled her eyes toward the window and Maya let out a soft sigh and let the day breathe her in.

Leah’s apartment was bright and airy. The kitchen and living room sat in a lofted space with high ceilings that allowed large industrial air ducts to span it. The bright beach wood of the rafters above seemed to capture light and sprinkle it down across the warm butcher block island where she was preparing another omelet, this time for herself, after making one for Keye and Maya. They tucked in around the island on carefully crafted wooden bar stools that Maya had a sneaking suspicion were the handiwork of her boyfriend. Maya peered over shoulder to look out the floor to ceiling narrow windows covered in a gauzy, white curtain. The living room was a collection of well loved, mismatched furniture pieces, all softened by time and use. 

Maya hadn’t fully recognized the neighborhood they were in when they drove in but she wondered how close they were to Paul’s workshop. Leah was laughing at Keye as she exclaimed how she’d never thought to add spinach to an omelet, or any vegetable to any dish for that matter, when Maya zoned back into the love fest unfolding before her. 

“You need to eat more vegetables, I keep telling you, or you’ll never be able to hold up a bike at a stop light. Even a little one,” Leah’s face was all sunshine. She tore off a piece off her omelet and handed it to a waiting Yodel at her feet. 

“She’s got a thing for bikes,” Keye hummed around a bite.

“I do not,” Leah tried to bemoan, but it only came out as soft embarrassment, her neck flushing with a hint of pink. That was hard to dispute considering Leah’s apartment was stationed above a bike shop. Her bike shop in fact. 

“Crotch rockets, some call them,” Keye quipped, shooting Maya a gleeful look.  

“Stop,” Leah replied breathlessly with a laugh, “They’re not called that.”

“She rode up on one to Seth’s wedding, what was I supposed to do? Not fall in love with her?” Keye goaded, shooting a bright smile in her direction. Maya lit up at this—she wanted to know everything about how Leah and Keye met, how the imprint happened. 

“So, it was at Seth’s wedding then?” Maya leaned onto the counter, trying to quell her excitement. Leah looked down at her omelet with a soft smile as if just recalling the memory overwhelmed her with joy. Keye blushed and shoved another bite of gooey omelet in her mouth. 

“Yeah, it was at Seth’s wedding,” Leah started softly, “Gah, I still can’t believe that little twerp is married. I swear I was helping him with his homework only last week,” she shook her head, still lost in her moment of nostalgia. 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you were helping him with his homework last week, babe. You guys were debating the merit of classic authors still being considered the classic norm in a postmodern world in this very kitchen.” Maya giggled at that and Leah looked up at Keye with such soft eyes that Maya thought she’d explode on the spot. Keye held her gaze for as long as she could before blushing and looking back down at her omelet, playing coy while continuing to eat. 

Oh, so it was that kind of imprint. 

“Yes, we met at Seth’s wedding,” Keye continued for her after a few bites as Leah started cleaning up. Keye launched into the story like it was well known and been written down for years. 

She said it was instantaneous. Much like Maya and Paul had, Leah and Keye and locked eyes and that was it. But most of the guests had been distracted and the pack was thoroughly drunk on special Quileute brewed beer so no one was really paying them any attention. No one had even really realized, except for Keye and Leah. They had sat there and stared at each other, across the dance floor for a cool minute or two. It could have been eons for all Keye knew. 

Leah’s face, which had been schooled in a cool complacency for most of the night as she muscled through her baby brother’s wedding, had shifted to something bright and surprised. Breathless, she had strode across the dance floor in her pale cream suit, sparkling under the carefully hung lights as she weaved her way through couples. Her eyes never left Keye’s and Keye had stayed glued to the spot, her heart beating wildly. Nothing would stop Leah from getting to her, and as she startled to a stop in front of her, Keye let out a loud exhale as if breathing again for the first time. 

“It’s you,” Leah had said, so surprised yet relieved, “It’s you. Y-you…you are so…you’re my—,” 

“Keye,” she interjected, relieving the stuttering Leah. She held her hand out somewhat awkwardly, but it had felt like the only thing she could do. “I’m Keye,” she said again. 

Leah slipped her hand into Keye’s, not shaking it, but just holding it there for a moment before threading her fingers purposefully through hers and nodding. “Yes, you are.” Leah’s whole face brightened into one of incandescent happiness as light tears shone in her dark eyes. Keye was on the verge of losing it and letting this wave of joy rush over her and spill from her tear ducts. 

There she was.

Shortly after, Keye skipped town that night with Leah and sealed her fate. She just disappeared. No one even realized she was gone, and her parents just thought that she went back to campus early. Leah was prone to disappearing spells, so there was no connection made there either apparently. 

Maya’s head swum up out of the story and looked over at Leah who was leaning against the sink with her hands outstretched next to her, smiling softly at Keye. 

“And after I moved in, I took this semester off—” Keye continued after a moment.

“Wait what?!” Maya snapped out of it and jerked her head toward Keye, her eyes wide with shock.  

“My, come on,” Keye groaned, “What is it with you and school? It’s not that big a deal.” Keye said half heartedly. 

Just because Maya had a vice grip on school didn’t mean everyone else needed to maintain that level of intensity to make school an important part of their lives. Just look at what it did to her and Paul. She willed her body to relax as she shook her head, glancing quickly at Leah for any back up and finding none.

“No, no,” Maya tried backpedaling, controlling the features on her face to remain impassive, “I just mean, I didn’t realize! I should have realized.” 

Keye leveled her with an expectant stare, a small smile on her face. Maya was trying to keep her lips clamped shut so she didn’t ask the question she really wanted to ask. 

After about thirty seconds though, Maya burst: “But why though?!” 

So much for self control.

Keye couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh. Leah looked on with a bit of concern on her face. 

“Sometimes, things just work out that way, My. But don’t worry, I’ll go back and finish up,” Keye proclaimed, “Just for you.” 

Maya smiled and shook her head. That soft concerned look was still pulling at Leah’s features as she continued to watch Keye carefully. 

Maya spent the day putzing around Seattle with Leah and Keye visiting some of their favorite local haunts. They even stopped in a few local bookshops and let Maya wander for as long as she liked. She discovered some old chemistry books that she fell in love with and was thoroughly brightened despite the low hanging clouds over Seattle as they walked down hidden side streets. 

The three grabbed lunch at a little sandwich shop not far from Leah’s bike shop. When Keye got up to use the bathroom, Maya casually stayed behind to Keye’s chagrin. Leah was trying to stuff the butt end of her meatball sub fully into her mouth, sauce dripping down her chin in an endearing way as she hunched her shoulders over the low table. 

Leah had been pretty tight lipped about her estrangement from the pack but now that Maya had her alone, she wondered if without Keye’s constant frown whenever the pack was brought up, she could ask her about it. 

“What?” Leah said around her mouthful. Maya hadn’t realized she had been staring, marveling even at this intensely, wonderful woman who had captured Keye’s heart and taken care of her best friend so completely. 

“Nothing, sorry, I—” Maya stumbled and ran a hand through her shaggy hair, frizzed by the gentle rain they had walked through to get here. Maya exhaled through her nose trying to gather her thoughts about how to ask but instead, Leah spoke: 

“You’re sure you want to go back?” Leah chewed valiantly and Maya couldn’t help but let her mouth hang open a bit in surprise. That wasn’t…. “No offense, but you seem torn. And I never try to make hard decisions when I’m on the fence.”

Maya closed her mouth abruptly and shook her head to try and clear any confusion that Leah could see in her eyes, “No, I…I need to go home. It’s time to go home. Not forever, but..just for now.” 

“Tortured him enough, then?” 

Maya’s eyes shot up to meet Leah’s in shock, but that feeling quickly faded when she saw that gleam of mischief in Leah’s eyes. She hadn’t meant it the way everyone else would have. 

“I guess,” Maya shrugged. “I do miss him, though.” That was an understatement.

“Of course you do,” Leah tucked back into the table scavenging chips from Keye’s plate. “Regardless of what you know, and regardless of what you feel, the imprint should always show you true north,” the sound of crunching chips perforated Maya’s concentration, “Or so they say.” 

“What do you think then? About the imprint, I mean, now that you have it?” Maya challenged. Leah took a moment, always thoughtful, never rash in her conversation. Just clear and true and decided. 

“I think the imprint is different for everyone. So if anyone tries to tell you what to do with it, you should take that with a grain of salt. Listen to what it says to you, trust that,” Leah shrugged. 

Maya paused at that and really tried to let that sink in. Everyone had tried to tell her what the imprint was meant to do, what it was based on legend. But it had been hard between her and Paul since the beginning. Some parts were easy, when they were just together and there was nothing else, but most other things were hard—harder than the other imprints at least. So much so, that Maya and Paul had wondered for a while if there was something wrong with them. 

“I will say though,” Leah’s voice suddenly turned serious. Maya met her eyes and was taken aback by the sheer intensity at which they bored into her, “While I don’t know how your imprint works, I do know Paul.” Maya gulped, “And I can say without a doubt in my mind that he loves you with every cell in his body.” 

Maya let out a sigh. She knew that of course and so she could only say as much, “I know.” Her voice came out hoarse. 

“But he’s also a bit of an idiot. Emotionally, I mean. The guy was abandoned by everyone when he was a kid and then was swallowed by anger for most of his adult life. He’s only found his way through in maybe the past five years. That’s still no excuse for how he’s been with you, but still. That man comes with baggage and I do not envy you that task of unpacking it all,” Leah brushed her hands together to get off the excess crumbs. 

There wasn’t enough that Maya knew about Paul’s past. He’d told her the basics, but she’d gotten more information about Paul’s dad from her own mother and that was a wobbly source. 

“Speaking of members of the pack,” Maya said quickly, “do you think you’ll ever come back to the rez?”

Leah let out a gentle laugh and shook her head, “Not unless they need me.” 

“Do they not need you now?” Maya quirked an eyebrow. Leah once again leveled her with that intense stare.

“Cute girls are always too brave for their own good,” Leah leaned back and stretched her arms behind Keye’s chair just as she slid back into it. 

“You guys can stop talking about me now,” Keye said dramatically as she shook her hair away from her face. She shot Maya a knowing look to which she rolled her eyes. 

Leah leaned forward just enough to kiss Keye’s shoulder and said softly, “Never, babe.” 

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

—-<<Trigger warning: mentions of abortion in this next section>>---

Maya and Keye cuddled up in the guest bed that Maya was sleeping in with a laptop between them that night watching an old 90’s vampire movie. Leah had disappeared downstairs into her shop to get some work done. 

As one of the main vampires looked out over a burning city, Keye readjusted her head on Maya’s shoulder as Yodel let out a soft sigh at the end of the bed. Somehow, it had felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Keye asked softly. Maya stared at the screen as she tried to reconcile her worry into something else. 

“I think so,” she breathed in and about before continuing, “It feels like the right time to go back. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“True north,” Keye muttered softly. 

“Jesus, you guys really are in deep, huh?” Maya joked and Keye giggled. 

“I don’t know, probably. She was there for me when everyone was either busy or gone. I don’t think that was the imprint either, she just…knew I needed her and she stayed,” Keye was quiet. Maya’s heart rate picked up as she realized her mistake in shutting everyone out. Even if Keye had said that she had understood why Maya did it, she knew she had hurt people who didn’t deserve it for the sake of her own peace. Keye, and a lot of others deserved more than that. 

“Keye, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should have stayed in contact, I know that. It all just felt hard and this was easier. But I shouldn’t have done the easy thing….not when it comes to you or Becks,” Maya scrunched in closer to Keye. 

“It really is okay, My. I get it. I disappeared too, you know. Just…tell us next time.” 

“I promise,” Maya breathed. “But I don’t plan on disappearing again. I didn’t even mean to fully disappear before, it was just….easier that way. But it wasn’t fair to your or Becks, so I promise.”

The vampire on screen looked wide eyed at the little girl who was drinking from an older woman. She looked so small, so innocent. Her too-young youth, eternally frozen in time. 

“I have to tell you something,” Keye breathed, her voice hitching at the end as if she was unsure. 

“What?” Maya said softly, looking down at the side of her face. Keye sat up and Maya turned toward her, realizing that her face was pulled tight with pain. “What is it?” she reached for Keye’s hands that were clasped tightly in her lap but pulled back when she flinched slightly as if being touched might be too much at the moment. “Are you okay?” 

“I am..I am. I really am. I need you to know that I am okay going into this,” Keye’s voice wobbled slightly as she sat up straight, before leaning back against the headboard. 

“You’re kind of scaring me, Keye,” Maya said slowly as she pressed pause on the movie and sat up too, crossing her legs in front of her and turning her whole body to face Keye. The looks that flitted across her face were hard to read but as Keye bit her lip, Maya knew this was something more. 

“I…” Keye began slowly, her eyes on her hands that fidgeted in her lap. Maya leaned over and covered both of her hands with her own. Keye swallowed hard, tears forming at the corner of her eyes but never falling before looking up at Maya. 

There was silence, strong and solid between them, and Maya just let it hang there to give her the space to say what it was she needed to say. 

“I left the rez because something h-happened,” Keye’s voice was quieter now and Maya listened carefully as soft rain started to patter on the windows above the bed. It was another few moments before Keye continued, “Colin and I were still dating and we were…things were going okay.” 

A cold feeling slid into Maya’s stomach, but she held her breath to keep from thinking the worst. 

“He and I were…well it doesn’t really matter, but things were going well and it was like…four days before Seth and Sadie’s wedding and I wasn’t really feeling good. Just kind of off you know?” Keye took in a breath and Maya heard the sound shudder through her, “And I…I thought that maybe I was…Fuck,” Keye wiped the tear that had escaped from the corner of her eyes and coasted down her cheek. 

“You were what?” Maya asked softly, concern laid plainly on her face. Keye tilted her head and gave Maya a knowing look as she frowned. Maya waited. 

“That I was pregnant,” Keye hiccuped softly and Maya let loose the breath. 

“Oh.” The word came out small and barely there. Just above a whisper. Keye stared down at her hands again, playing with the tips of Maya’s fingers. “Were you?” Maya prompted gently, leaning her head down to capture Keye’s eyes. 

Keye shut them tightly and the tears fiercely rolled now as she nodded. 

“Okay, okay,” Maya looked over her shoulder toward the door wondering if Leah knew…if she knew Keye was… Her gaze flitted over Keye’s body to try and discern how far along she was, but she looked entirely the same. “How far along are—”

Maya was cut off by Keye shaking her head slowly, as hot tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Maya furrowed her brow, confused. Everything was coming at her so fast and she was just trying to piece every part of the puzzle together but felt like she was missing information. When realization dawned on her, her eyes widened with sadness, “You lost it…” she breathed. “Oh, Keye—” Maya reached out to stroke her shoulder, scooting closer but Keye stopped her. 

“Not exactly.” Keye said, wetly. She swallowed hard and forced herself to sit up straight. Her eyes were harder now, and through the tears Maya thought she saw Keye watching her carefully for any reaction that would make her shutter completely. Maya’s mouth hung open again in momentary confusion before she said even softer, her breath barely a whisper, “Oh.”

She blinked rapidly as it all sank in. Of course. Maya kept her face neutral, soft, and open as she watched Keye watching her. Keye’s eyes flicked all around her face, trying to scan for any disapproval, or upset, and that made Maya worry that she had encountered some judgment from her circle. 

Maya reached out and grasped Keye’s hand softly in hers and gave her a soft nod, “It’s okay, Keye. That’s totally your decision.”

But Keye was silent, watching her as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maya let the air hang between them a moment longer before she said, “Do you want to tell me about it?” Keye grimaced. “Or tell me why?” Keye crumbled slightly at that. “Let’s start with an easier question… And you don’t have to answer anything at all if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that any answer you do give is enough reason and enough justification for the decision you made.” Maya dipped her head to meet Keye’s eyes. Only then did she see her gaze soften with trust again. “It’s enough,” she reinforced. Maya tried to emphasize that love with her eyes as well and held Keye’s gaze. 

When Keye finally nodded, sagging with relief, Maya scooted closer so that their knees were touching, “When did you find out?” She wiped gently at Keye’s tears. 

“Just after I met Leah…Like I said, I hadn’t been feeling great up until Seth and Sadie’s wedding, but after I met Leah, it was like I needed to know, you know?” Maya nodded and just let Keye go. 

“I drove out of town to get a pregnancy test. That whole fucking tribe has eyes everywhere you know and I didn’t want to risk it getting back to…well, I bought three and I was in a fucking gas station bathroom in Beaverton with a full bottle of gatorade just…waiting for what felt like forever,” Keye stopped then and gulped down air. 

Maya was pushing her hair out of her face and stroking her thumb over her hand. “And then it was like…everything stopped you know. It was real…three times it was real. And I….I panicked,” Keye was looking around the room now, the guilt just absolutely pulling her in different directions. “I didn’t want anyone to find out. At least until I could just think for a bit you know. You know how they are about babies, if they had gotten wind that I…and it was Colin’s? No way, game over.” 

A fresh sob broke through Keye’s chest. She opened her mouth a couple of times to speak and couldn’t so Maya let her breathe through it, allowing her the space to continue or stop. But she carried on as if she needed to say it out loud, “I knew I didn’t want it, My. And I just felt….bad. I felt bad because, I don’t know…fuck I don’t know why should I feel bad, you know?” Maya just nodded. She understood guilt like that. “I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t go back to the rez. And so I…I called Leah and she came and got me, no questions asked.” 

Thank god, Maya thought. Thank god for Leah, because Maya could just see herself so clearly mirrored in this same situation. She was so grateful that her best friend had someone like Leah to come and protect her the way she needed to be protected. 

“It took me a week to tell her. And she was just…ugh,” Keye reached for a tissue next to the bed and blew her nose before saying, “She was just perfect, you know? She knew just what to say and what to do and…” Keye’s eyes sparkled for a moment as she looked at Maya. Maya couldn’t help but give her a sad, knowing smile back. 

“Yeah, yeah, imprints are great,” she joked, rolling her eyes before squeezing her hand. Keye smiled sadly, looking down at their joined hands. 

“She told me that whatever I wanted to do, it was the right decision. And that I didn’t need to tell anyone if I didn’t want to, because it was my body. She was just…there. All the time for me. I-I don’t know if I could have done all this without her but…she held my hand through it all and I…” Keye looked up at Maya, her eyes sure and firm now, “I don’t regret it.” 

Maya shook her head, “You shouldn’t. That was your decision, and I still love you just as you are.” Keye smiled, bigger this time and nodded. 

“Still fucks with me though,” she said, resigned. 

“Yeah well, they never said being a woman would be easy,” Maya pulled her into a tight hug. Keye held on so hard, she thought her ribs popped, “I love you.” Maya breathed into her hair. 

For a while they just sat there, hugging, listening to each other breathe. Maya hoped her decisions 

— << end trigger warning>> ---

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

November, 1 year ago….

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s voice echoed and roiled in Paul’s ears as he worked away at the lower deck in the back garden. The cool November air whipped round Paul as he worked at setting wood planks on his foundation. The chill did nothing to bring down his temperature though. Paul was running more than hot these days—he was constantly burning up, as if an unbreakable fever clung to him since Maya left. 

Left him. 

Paul stalled, his hands stilling on the wood as he closed his eyes tightly against his last memory of her, tear stricken and shaking her head at him. I won’t. She had said to him that she wouldn’t stay. Not for anyone, not even for him. And that tore him to pieces and set him on fire. And ever since, he’d been burning. 

Paul forced his eyes back open and worked to refocus them on that task at hand. Work on the house always gave him some temporary peace, but he could never truly escape that hollowness that deepened and ached, threatening to drive him mad before the first snow would melt. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to go on rounds at this point. But no one blamed him. No one even came looking for him. He chalked that up to Jacob, citing space, citing time, citing…whatever it was Paul was supposed to find during his time of abandonment. 

Because that’s what it was, anyway you shook it out, he was simply abandoned. Again. 

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s voice persisted in his head, sounding firmer, angrier each time that Paul refused whether internally or externally. What would the elders do for him exactly? They got him into this mess in the first place. Setting unrealistic expectations, putting pressure on them, coaxing them along with arbitrary milestones. They wouldn’t let up with their pleading eyes and knowing conversations until Maya was pregnant. Jesus. Paul skated quickly away from that thought and continued working on the deck. 

Plus, what could the elders say to him now? Maya was gone, and all he could do was hope that she’d come back. A ripple of anger ran down Paul’s spine as he gritted his teeth. Suddenly he felt like he was six years old again, sitting on the stoop of his dad’s double wide as thunder promised rain overhead. Waiting for someone who might never return. He hated that feeling. And what he hated more was how that anger that he once thought was well and truly tempered began to roil viciously within him again. 

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s tone turned into a rough growl in his head and Paul couldn’t stand it anymore. The hammer that had gone so still in his hand now shook and he reared back before hurling it with all his might without a care of where it landed. It connected with something far off, a tree perhaps, that shook its occupants free and had them flying off in a hurry. 

Paul let out a harsh breath as he tried to swallow the well of emotion building in him. If he was being honest, he hadn’t done so well since Maya had left. To be fair, that might actually be an understatement. As hot, unshed tears brimmed his dark eyes, he stood with his hands lightly rested on his hips. 

“Fine,” he said to no one in particular, “I’ll go see the elders.” Paul headed off in the direction of his lost hammer.

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

The next morning, Maya and Keye stumbled into the kitchen together after having fallen asleep, exhausted from their conversation the night before. 

Today was the day Maya planned to return to La Push and she would be lying if she wasn’t a bit nervous. 

But, even more nerve wracking was Keye’s request to drive her into the rez. After last night, Keye had woken up feeling better, but she had told Maya sleepily that she needed to go home to fix some things too. 

It only made sense that she would come with her, but still, the thought of Keye having another conversation last night made Maya ache, especially if she wouldn’t be as accepted by the others—least of all the council. 

But Keye had assured her that Leah and her had talked about this and that she felt ready after unloading a little on Maya last night. She could do it and even more so, she felt like she needed to, to continue to heal and grow past it. 

Now, hunched over their individual bowls of cereal as Leah watched from her place leaned up against the counter, both women held an air of dread about them. 

Leah took a bite of cereal and said suddenly to Maya: “You know he’s going to know you’re there as soon as you cross the boundary, right?” 

At this, Maya couldn’t help a small shiver run through her. He’d know she was there, but what he would do about it was still up in the air. 

A few hours later, Keye pulled up the familiar, neatly paved driveway to the house. If it wasn’t for the familiar blue stone, Maya might not have even clocked that they were at her house. There’s been so much work done to it, almost as if someone frantically decided to build with unbridled purpose and determination.

“Holy shit,” Keye breathed as she looked through her windshield of Leah’s Subaru. They both sat in stunned silence for a moment, mouths slightly agape. Then Maya replied weakly, 

“Yeah.” 

The little blue house wasn’t so little anymore. 

“Did you know he was—uh,” Keye faltered to complete her sentence so Maya just answered:

“No. This is…” Maya was lost for words. 

“Yeah,” Keye breathed. Finally, she tore her eyes away from the house and looked over at Maya. “So, are you ready?” 

“Are you?” Maya said back just as hesitantly. Keye considered it for a moment and then just shrugged. 

“Yeah, why not?” She answered with a small smile. Maya exhaled a breath through her nose and nodded. Why not. 

She pushed open the door and stood slowly on the dark paved driveway that was dotted with solar lights that would guide her in at night. She grabbed her duffel bag and backpack from the backseat and shut both doors with purpose. 

Keye only pulled back up the driveway once Maya had opened the front door. But Maya stayed frozen on the threshold for a moment, marveling at what lay within. 

The quaint front entryway had been completely opened and transformed into a wide open expansive living room that wrapped around the staircase that was now exposed on either side. Off to the right of the living room where there had only been a stone wall before, Paul had put in a cozy office, the entryway was arched and held two driftwood french doors, the glass mingling perfectly with the hand carved wood. 

Maya peeked in, her eyes coasting over the back wall behind the raw edged desk that was packed books in the floor to ceiling bookshelves. An oversized, plush chair was nestled neatly next to the bookshelves and the bay window that looked out into the woods. A small iron fireplace had been installed in a free corner. It was…perfect for lack of a better word. 

Maya spun on her heel and carried on toward the back of the house. The kitchen had been further expanded, a large warm wood island stretched across the expansive green tile. New appliances had been installed, the cabinets fitted and hand carved with intricate designs to heighten the simplicity of the sleek and soft kitchen around it.

Someone had been busy. Maya wrapped her arms around herself and glanced across the space. It was all so beautiful and different. But it still somehow felt like her home. It held the exact warmth and memory as before, just opened more to welcome new memories. 

Outside the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky into the late afternoon. She pushed aside the long sliding glass door and stepped out onto the deck. A hanging bed flocked in white gossamer curtains and shaded by a partially covered pergola hung seductively off to the side. The deck had been expanded to include three levels, each holding a different space to gather with cozy chairs, firepits, and hand carved weather-proofed wooden tables. 

The most impressive thing that she had seen thus far though was the renovated workshop. Paul had completely rebuilt it, expanded it, and settled it a little further back onto the neighboring property. It almost looked the size of his studio in Seattle now, but he had built the entire front with reclaimed antique windows so that she could easily see into the intricate workspace within.The beveled glass glittered in the winter sun and made the entire backyard sparkle. It even held a second story loft that looked out toward the ocean. 

The cold November breeze rolled over Maya and she took a deep breath. She knew the kind of frenzied state he must have been in when he started building all of this. As a distraction. To keep him from feeling that hollowing pain that she herself felt almost every day when she had left. It was heartbreaking what they’d done to each other. But there was no getting around it now. 

Still, the most surprising thing was, he wasn’t here. Maya looked over her shoulder back into the house. Maybe she could find the keys to her Jeep, now neatly tucked away in the newly built two-car garage in the adjacent lot that Paul must have purchased to make all of these renovations. 

With Paul nowhere in sight, she let out a long breath. She guessed she could go to Emily and Sam’s and look for him there. That’s what she needed to do—she needed to find him. 

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

February, 9 months ago…

Paul stood on the aging and worn steps of the last elder front porch in the icy rain that was oscillating annoyingly into sleet. As he looked around the front porch, shirtless and drenched in cold rain that steamed off of him, he noticed the wood rot close to the house where the porch met and made a mental note to come back and repair it once the weather cleared. 

After a few more seconds, Elder Ti’Hal slowly pulled open the door, a wool woven shawl hanging heavy over her shoulders. Her bright white hair was braiding neatly into two plaits. 

Elder Ti’Hal was truly ancient. And Paul didn’t mean that in a negative way at all. She radiated the distilled essence and teachings of their tribe. She was an elder before Paul was even born and he’d never known her without her bright white hair framing her wrinkled, warm face. 

She still managed to move fairly quickly and with agility that wouldn’t normally be attributed to someone of her age, but that was the mystery of elder Ti’Hal. She also never attended council meetings or bonfires anymore, and instead preferred to stay in her quiet cottage in the forest that she had shared with her husband before his passing over two decades ago. 

“Paul Lahote,” she said softly. “To what do I owe this very wet appearance?” 

Paul scowled off to the side, his jaw clenching so hard he thought his teeth might crack. He hadn’t realized it, but he was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort of it. When he didn’t answer she just nodded gravely. 

“Come in,” she walked back into her small, warm, wooden home and Paul only hesitated for a second in the cold rain before he ducked under the tiny threshold and entered. “Let me get you a towel,” she grumbled. 

“Don’t bother,” he said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. 

“For my couch then,” she was already digging in the small linen closet and produced a worn, threadbare towel that she draped across her couch for gesturing to it. “Sit.” she commanded. 

Paul had forgotten how bossy the elders were. He trudged across the living room, careful not to trip on the woven Quileute rug before he slumped down onto the couch in a huff. A warm fire crackled off to his left and Elder Ti’Hal had disappeared around a corner into her tiny kitchen and was clanging around with a kettle. 

“Do you want to start or should I?” Elder Ti’Hal called from the kitchen. Paul was still breathing heavily, the ache in his stomach crescendoing to a harsh beat. He may have groaned painfully in response, but he was too distracted by the unrelenting pain the imprint was causing him. “Right,” Elder Ti’Hal came around the corner with two hand thrown mugs in her hand steaming with what Paul hoped was something stronger than tea. 

She handed him his mug and when he took a whiff, he nearly threw it begrudgingly into the fire. 

“What pains you today, Paul Lahote?” she began. Paul shook his head, trying to find the right place to start, but nothing came to him, so instead he said, 

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” she sipped slowly from her mug. 

“Call me by my first and last name. It’s not like you haven’t known me before I was born. Both names seem overkill don’t you think?” 

He shifted uncomfortably on the warm, plush couch as she leveled him with her gaze and took her time answering. 

“It’s more to remind you than me,” she said cryptically. Paul scoffed: 

“Oh believe me, I know who I am.” 

“Do you?” she replied quickly. Paul glared at her full on now and leaned forward, his mug still cradled between both hands. 

“She didn’t come home for Christmas. She didn’t come home for Seth and Sadie’s wedding. Nothing. Not a fucking peep from her,” he could feel the tension in his body snap, the anger flowing through his veins freely now. He trembled slightly—this wasn’t his first time having to channel unchecked rage through himself and he doubted Ti’Hal would appreciate him exploding into a giant wolf and shredding her comfortable living room to pieces. 

Instead, Paul glued his eyes to the fire, trying to let the anger move through him and then out of him to be consumed and burned away by the fire. But every time he breathed in, it felt like ash flooding his mouth, the embers of that anger still hotter than anything else within him. 

“What does one do with so much anger?” she posed the question suddenly. Paul looked up at her wide-eyed as if shocked by the fact that she could see it on him. He was naive to think that much anger wouldn’t still be palpable to someone as attuned as her. Paul rolled his jaw and sat staring at her, waiting for the anger to ebb, but it wouldn’t. 

Fuck. 

Elder Ti’Hal settled back into her large armchair covered in different soft, worn blankets. When it was clear he wasn’t going to respond, she glanced out the window, watching the rain settle into a gentle drizzle. 

“What do you think the imprint is, Paul?” her voice was warm with a gentle thrum to it like dried maize kernels pouring into a stone bowl. Comforting, consistent. It was maddening to say the least, so Paul continued in his aggravated tone, feeling the heat rise on his skin. 

“An anchor for packmates. A promise for imprints. It’s a reason to stay.” 

“Hmm,” she breathed, her eyes still on the window watching the rain make trails to the muddied window ledge. Paul huffed, rubbing his hands against his knees with impatience. A fucking waste of time, he thought as he clenched his jaw. “But it wasn’t reason enough for her to stay?” 

When her eyes slowly drifted back toward him, Paul looked ready to burst into flames. 

“Clearly not. I can’t go get her because I’ve been ordered to stay away, but also….she doesn’t want me to come,” his voice was quiet. He waited for her to speak again but she just stared at him sadly. A deathly calm rolled over him and he thought that if Ti’Hal didn’t say something soon, he might just give up and collapse in on himself like a dying star.

“What is it then? The imprint?” Paul asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

Ti’Hal smiled slowly, warmth creeping into her eyes as she tilted her head to the side and surveyed Paul thoroughly. She took her time before she finally said: 

“A choice.” 

Paul tried to quiet the tremors radiating through his body. If the imprint was a choice, then Maya had clearly not chosen him. Never. Not even from the start. The thought of it made his blood boil. His face twisted in rage before he spat out. 

“What the fuck does that mean? How is it a fucking choice when it’s supposedly pre-ordained from the ancestors? That makes no fucking sense, you know that right?” Paul was on his feet without remembering when exactly he stood up. His hands were curled into fists and his chest was rising and falling quickly. He needed to calm down. If he could just calm down he could…

Ti’Hal just watched him with that serene look on her face, as if nothing fazed her anymore and the anger of a full blown werewolf couldn’t even shake her. Paul tried breathing, closing his eyes, counting to ten, but nothing could quell this desperate anger that spiraled and felt like lead dropping into the bottom of his stomach. 

Why was it always like this? This anger? It was like a tide that he couldn’t escape. Like clockwork it would just rush over him and pull him under in seconds and there was nothing he felt like he could do about it. It was an exposed wire in his veins just ticking and twitching with so much heat and sharpness that he felt his skin would burn away and leave him exposed and vulnerable. 

 “Have you given her a choice?” Ti’Hal’s voice cut through the raging quiet like a whip, but her voice still remained calm. He tried to focus on that—that there was calm to be achieved and he could reach it. He could reach the shore if he just stayed calm. He was panting, losing his breath every moment he kept himself solid and here. 

“I thought I did…but I wasn’t given one either,” he thought back to the moment the imprint had happened. Seeing her there across the fire. It was like an instant salve to a long forgotten pain. And then in the next moment, he was all resistance and rage again. Nothing felt like a choice when it came to the imprint. “We…we didn’t have time to make that choice,” Paul tried to slow his breathing. Calm, in and out, just like the waves. Not sinking but drifting.

“Some see the imprint as a gift, but that’s also just a choice wrapped up in a nice bow, in my opinion. It is a choice, Paul Lahote. You’ve made plenty in your very short life so far, but it is one that you give to her and wait until she makes it. It’s a question, and not a command and it can take many forms. You’re part is making sure you ask her the right one,” she watched his body language shift ever so slightly. “Miss Sunriviere was told that you were her imprint, told that there was to be in a relationship, and then told what her life would most likely be, in so many words.” Paul opened his mouth to retort but she continued anyway, “You are her choice. So ask the question and be patient for once. And most importantly, be vulnerable to her answer,” Ti’Hal took a moment to sip her tea. Paul tried to let those words sink in. 

He was vulnerable with her. Her absence had nearly destroyed him, was that not vulnerable enough? 

“No, not that,” Ti’Hal responded as if she could hear his thoughts. Paul’s eyes widened. 

“What’s the question, then? The one I should ask?” Paul said desperately, his voice rasping as he realized he had been holding his body tensely throughout Ti’Hal’s speech. 

“Start with the answer you want and work your way back from there,” she gave a cryptic smile and stood, disappearing behind her kitchen door and singing softly to herself, unceremoniously excusing him. 

Paul stood there for a while longer, rapidly breathing, and listening to Ti’Hal singing the songs of his childhood in her kitchen, muffled and sweet.  ------------------------------------------

The door to her Jeep shut with a sharp click as Maya shrugged on her cropped puffy jacket. Much as she had suspected, the keys to Maya’s Jeep were in the sun visor, as if waiting for her. The whole drive to Sam and Emily’s felt…calm. As if she were driving toward something rather than into something. There was no sweeping dread, no overwhelming nervousness—she just felt ready. She chocked that up to just time. The time away had made her ready for home, refreshed her.

Sam and Emily’s looked the same as it always did—warm and inviting with a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. It was familiar and as she took in a deep breath, the cold November air spiced with pine and fallen leaves, with a hint of the salty Pacific sent a pleasant reassuring thrum through her body. 

Maya stood by her Jeep for a moment just taking it in, before the potential chaos—whether it would be angry or joyful—would be wrought on her. Just the quiet creak of the forest, a distant river rushing toward the sea, and muffled laughter booming from within the home. 

Maya took a deep breath and took a couple of steps forward, her feet crunching on the wet gravel. She hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the screen door opened and Paul walked out slowly onto the porch, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. Maya halted, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his. 

She braced herself for whatever awaited her, but still that pulsing calm spread through her. It all felt…alright. And she hadn’t felt that way in so long. She watched in for just a moment as he stood on the top step of the porch, his face neutral before it broke into an earth shattering smile. 

Maya could have sobbed at the sight of it. He sauntered down the steps toward and it took all of her self control not to break into a full on sprint to quickly close the distance between them. Somehow she managed a quick walk and nearly crashed into his body, but he held her fast, one arm coming out to wrap around her waist as his other hand cupped her jaw. He peered down at her, that warm smile still spilling sunshine in every direction and she stared up at him, eyes glittering with unshed tears. 

He shook his head lightly and smiled, as his thumb reached up to gently brush across her lower lip, parting them softly. 

“You came home,” he said gently, the emotion clearly wavering in his deep voice. Maya nearly crumbled at his touch. She was home. 

“Yes,” she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was…time,” she paused when he raised his eyebrows at her, a hint of humor and warmth in his eyes then quickly clarified: “For a visit.”

But this didn’t seem to faze him. He just nodded gently, humming in acceptance with that warm, pleased look on his face as he took her all in. There was a palpable vibration happening between them, what Maya could only assume was a physical manifestation of the imprint’s tension. 

The last time she had seen him on the rez  was over a year ago. And yet, time washed away and parted to let them stand there together again as if nothing had passed, as if this was any other day. Comfortable. 

Maya’s hands shook she gripped the sides of his abdomen. She’d come all this way to say….to say what exactly? Her mouth parted softly but nothing came out. She needed to say something, anything. The silence stretched between them and Maya just couldn’t let it hang there any longer. How could she? After he had left her in that hotel room, and how it had felt coming home again—she needed to tell him everything. 

He was tall, god so tall, he towered over her really, and yet she felt like his matching pair. 

“Welcome home,” he said gently, his nose nuzzling hers gently. 

Maya looked up at him curiously, her eyes slightly narrowed as she took him in. His dark beard was closely trimmed to his face, and his hair was a bit shorter than the last time she saw it. He looked good. Well, he always looked good, but this was different. 

His eyes seemed bright, not clouded with the anger or jealousy she had seen back in the spring. No, this Paul felt solid, for once. The light was shining on his face, his color back to its warm russet, flush with heat and health. Everything felt simpler. 

And with the confusion and despair that had once clung to that hollowness in her stomach from the imprint’s ache clearing completely, she felt like she could see clearly for the first time in awhile. She was worried momentarily that maybe it was just the trick of the imprint, beckoning her in—a salve to her burning anxiety. 

But staring up at Paul, there was an openness there that hadn’t been there before. Something that she wanted to discover and ask him about. For now though, as his hand slowly threaded into her hair and pulled her close, this was all that she needed. 

Finally, after watching her with such intensity, such heat, as if trying to rememorize every part of her face he lowered his head toward hers and crashed their lips together. It was like coming up for air after swimming beneath a current for too long. His kiss pressed new life into her and she arched her body fully into his, her curve slotting into the shape of his body just so as he held her against him. 

Paul moved his mouth over hers, slow and wanting, washing the ache of their absence away. There was no succumbing this time, just an equal measure of elation at being together again, and Maya felt that familiar sensation of something clicking into place and she saw it for what it was: being in the right place at the right time. 

She sighed into his mouth and heard him give a soft groan of pleasure before the air rang with the hoots and howls of his brothers. He pulled back gently, his eyes hooded and soft as he looked at her. Paul glanced over his shoulder at his pack crowded onto the porch and gave a gentle laugh before looking back, his eyes shining with something new as he said gruffly, “I guess they missed you too.” 

Maya swallowed thickly and laughed, not willing to let go of him first. But he took her cue and said, “Come inside, I’m sure they all have a million questions.” Paul kissed her forehead before turning and slotting her neatly into his side as they walked the short distance to the porch. 

“Hey, hey Ivy League!” Jared crooned. 

“Welcome back, My,” Seth said softly. 

“We needed a little more brains around here,” Colin laughed as Brady shoved him lightly. 

“Maya?!” a soft, female voice floated out from the front door as Maya and Paul climbed the porch steps. Becks pushed her way through the pack crowded on the porch and started sobbing instantly upon seeing her. She was heavily pregnant, and Jacob wasn’t far behind her as she nearly dropped into Maya’s arms in a hug, squeezing her so tightly she thought she cracked a rib. 

“Oh my god!” she cried into her shoulder. Maya chuckled and rubbed soft circles on her back as she looked over her shoulder at Jacob who shrugged and looked lovingly at his hormonally devastated wife. Becks pulled back to look at Maya, her face puffy and tear stricken, “You absolute JERK!” Maya barked a laugh at that and tried to wipe some tears away from Becks’ cheeks. “Don’t ever disappear on me like that again. I thought— I thought—,” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Maya said, pulling her best friend back into a hug. “I should have texted.” Becks hiccuped a sound of disapproval, “Or called.” Maya corrected. When she pulled back, Becks nodded, seemingly trying to get herself calm as Jacob settled a hand on her lower back. Maya’s eyes widened as she took in just how pregnant she was. 

“Yeah, I know,” Becks said disappointed, “He’s like a week late.” She truly looked exhausted and the size of her belly stretched to almost painful extent. Jacob rubbed her back and leaned down to kiss her temple. 

“He’ll come soon, babe,” he promised. “Plus, Maya’s here. That’s literally all the good luck we need to induce your labor. Like last time.” 

Maya laughed again and shrugged, “Just no vampire delivery this time, right?” she quipped. Jacob rolled his eyes. 

“Jesus, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But, Carlisle is on standby if the water birth stalls or we need quick intervention,” Jacob said nonchalantly. 

“What the fuck is a water birth?” Brady whispered to no one in particular. 

“Come inside, come inside,” Becks waved a hand and with Paul’s hand on her waist gently, Maya let the warm, comforting Uley home swallow her up. 

They stayed at Sam and Emily’s until late in the evening, laughing and swapping stories. Paul stayed next to her, his presence relaxed and content, which was so unlike the tense and overwhelmingly protectiveness he had always exhibited before she left. 

She glanced over at him a couple times, and each time, he caught her eye and gave her a smile. One that promised nothing but exactly what he was in that moment. And it made her…happy. 

When she started to yawn, Paul took that as an opportunity to lean over and whisper softly against her ear, “Let’s go home.” 

Maya nodded immediately and they said their quick goodbyes to those remaining there, promising to come back tomorrow for lunch and babywatch. 

When they pulled up to the house in Maya’s Jeep, she couldn’t stifle her laughter quickly enough before Paul looked toward her amused and said:

“You don’t like it?” he asked, not even a little offended. If she didn’t know any better, there might be a slight teasing tone to his voice.

“No, no! It’s beautiful, I—,” she shut her eyes tightly to quell the rising emotion in her stomach from burning behind her eyes for too long. “It’s beautiful, Paul. You’ve clearly been busy, but I’m not sure why you did all this work.” Liar, the voice inside her quipped. 

The corner of Paul’s mouth pulled up in a smug grin beneath his closely trimmed beard, “Bullshit,” he replied, maybe to that voice in her head. Maya blushed and shook her head at the soft teasing tone. 

They hopped out of the car and came around the front into each other’s sides, arms weaving effortlessly over each other’s waists like magnets pulled them together, as they walked toward the house.

“Well, why else would you feel the need to renovate our entire house? It’s not like we needed to. The house was…fine, before,” she swallowed a gasp on the last two words as Paul confidently reached for her hip and tugged her closer, pulling her body flush with his. He stopped her, his other hand came up to rest on the side of her neck and threaded through her hair at the  nape of her neck.

He chuckled and Maya felt the warm rumbling vibration of it stumble through her body and land in her belly. “Shut up,” he said with a gentle smile. Maya couldn’t help her returning grin before she quickly wiped it from her face. 

“Seriously, if this is what happens every time I leave, I’m going to have to have someone confiscate your power tools,” his warm breath fanned across her face as he sighed, his eyes dancing around taking her all in in this light. How did he do that? Look at her like he was seeing the most incredible thing he’d ever laid eyes upon for the first time, and yet, the familiarity of his gaze said he’d known her forever, lifetimes before even. She let her hands rest on his chest now as she looked up at him. 

“I forgot how much of a little shit you are,” he teased.

“Me?! Really, you're a menace to homes everywhere—” Maya was cut off as she shrieked with delight as Paul growled, squeezing her hip and biting her neck, his rough stubble tickling beneath her chin as he backed her over the threshold of the house and kicked the door shut behind him. 

Once inside, he grabbed her under her thighs and carried her effortlessly up the stairs toward their bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. Maya wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself sink deeper into the kiss. Nothing was hurried—for once. 

When he lowered her gently onto the bed, his hands coasted across her thighs and unbuttoned her jeans. He peeled them off her slowly, kissing down her body and pausing to press an open mouthed kiss to delicate V between her thighs. Maya watched him, her eyes hooded with desire as he took his time kissing back up her bare legs once her jeans were discarded, pulling her shirt up now and peppering the expanse of her belly with warm pecks. 

Maya sighed, a small moan escaping as made his way up between her breasts, swiftly pulling her shirt up over her head and burying his face in her neck, the stubble scraping against the soft skin and making goosebumps rise across her breasts. 

Paul was slow and methodical in how he worshiped her, his hands touching every part of her, pausing to measure just how well she fit in his hands. Maya felt it too and an overwhelming sense of contentment rushed through her. The imprint bond that normally rang so clear through her during a time like this was completely silent. She didn’t pay it much mind though as Paul quickly unsnapped her bra and pulled back the delicate lace before encasing her nipple in his mouth. Maya’s back arched off the bed and Paul’s hand traced the shape of it. 

His thigh nestled neatly between her legs and Maya couldn’t help but seek friction desperately there, grinding down on him and rolling her hips as he tugged gently at her nipple with his teeth, biting softly across the swell of her chest to her other breast. 

Maya was panting with desire, rolling her hips as her eyes flutter shut to simply exist in this moment with him. She heard the soft swish of his t-shirt coming off and the familiar hum of his zipper. When she opened her eyes, he was standing and discarding his clothes, fully naked at the end of the bed and he simply looked—gorgeous. Maya’s breath caught in her throat as she leaned up to look at him. His throat bobbed in equal adoration as he leaned over her, his fingers ghosting across her hips and slowly slipping her panties down her thighs. He kissed her bent knee as he slipped the lacy garment over it and when she was fully naked beneath him, he let out a well deserved sigh. His eyes raked in every inch of her as if drinking her in. Maya was propped up on her elbows, her eyes softened as she slowly let her knees drop to either side, baring herself to him. 

She was already dripping—she knew that. Paul licked his lips and kneeled between her, not wasting anymore time as he bit gently on her thigh before leaning in to devour her. His tongue, flat and warm, seemed to touch every part between her thighs and Maya threw her head back, letting out a sharp moan. He let her settle on his tongue, tasting her, relishing her scent, as he held her there, his hands anchored firmly on her hips. His mouth sucked and pulled at her clit, his tongue darting into her opening, as a groan rumbled from his throat and through her body. 

Maya was cresting, light bursting behind her eyes as she whimpered through her release. She twitched against his tongue and only then did he lean up, his eyes glazed with lust and love so intertwined that she thought she’d melt into the mattress. 

Paul ran his hands over her body again, reverently, as if to prove something to himself and Maya shivered. The ache growing inside of her was present, persistent, but he leaned down slowly, taking her mouth over his and she sighed into it. Their breath mingled, mixing, and Maya felt like she was coming home all over again. 

He wrapped his arm down around her back and shifted her up the bed, but before she could settle onto the pillows, he whipped her over him and Maya straddled his abdomen. Her eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t help but smile. Paul almost always preferred to have her beneath him when he claimed her, but in this moment, his eyes shone with a desire to see her claim every part of him. 

Maya let her hands run down his chest, memorizing the hard expanse, the ripples and lines that made him strong and immovable. His chest rose and fell in quick breaths as if her fingertips were tracing some new pattern of love into his skin. Maya slowly traced over each dip and line of muscle, her eyes trained to each small freckle or scar, taking him all in. 

His hands gripped her hips tightly, kneading the soft flesh that creased between her hip and thigh and she smiled. “You are torturing me,” he rasped, his eyes dark and desperate. Maya glanced up at his face and just smiled softly. 

“I’m just remembering,” she replied barely above a whisper. Paul pressed his thumbs into that delicate crease where her hips met each of her thighs and pressed. A shot of lightning struck between her legs and a soft gasp fell from her lips. 

“Remembering what?” he asked, so soft, so gentle. A sweet juxtaposition to the hard bodied, giant man that lay wanting and ready beneath her. Maya’s fingers paused over where his heart lay thumping wildly in his chest. 

“What it feels like to come home,” she replied, as she lifted her hips and pressed him against her center. She slid down onto him slowly, feeling the warm stretch of him. A feral groan ripped from Paul as she sank onto his hilt, her hips neatly connected to his. She feel his hands flex as they gripped and loosened on her thighs. Maya braced herself on his stomach, taking in deep, stuttering breaths as she tried to get used to the sheer size of him again. As he twitched inside of her, she let out a soft “Ah!” as she clenched around him. She was so sensitive. Being fully in control had set her body alight and Paul waited for her to move, groaning each time she inadvertently squeezed him inside of her. 

When she lifted slightly, Paul braced her between his hands, helping to raise her hips. His eyes were glued to where they connected as the sheen of her slick coated every exposed inch of him. Maya raised herself halfway up his shaft before slowly settling back down onto him working herself into a slow and languid pace. 

Maya watched his eyes, sharp and dark as they took in every bit of movement. He was in absolute awe, completely taken by the shape of her and Maya felt completely in control. 

Her mouth hung open in unadulterated want as she quickened her pace on top of him. Rolling and sliding her hips against him. Paul’s hands tightened and loosened of their own accord as if he had to remind himself to let go a little so he wouldn’t bruise her. 

With each roll of her hips, that ache was replaced with warm relief and she felt a whole body shiver rush through her as Paul started chanting her name. She needed him closer, as she felt her tits swell and ache from her impending release. As if he heard her, Paul leaned up, connecting their bodies. His chest pressed flush against hers, but Maya didn’t stop bucking her hips against his. Paul wrapped his arms around her body, nipping along her collarbone, his moans echoing across the room as Maya threw her head back, panting and cursing. 

She felt him release first, and it took her over the edge. Paul’s eyes were closed tightly as he shuddered through his release and Maya curved in on herself as she let go, her body clenching to him tightly with wave after wave of pleasure as if she was trying to rinse herself through. 

Finally, she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. He placed a hand behind her head and stroked gently, kissing her temple as he tried to slow his breathing. 

Still, the imprint was silent. Maya wasn’t complaining, it was just…strange. 

“Welcome home,” he breathed. Maya chuckled and buried her head in his neck as she let sleep overtake her in one fell swoop

The next morning, Maya awoke slowly. She was keenly aware of Paul’s body behind hers, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. Rain pattered gently on the windows and she had to admit that she hadn’t felt this content waking up in a long while. 

Paul stirred gently behind her, kissing her shoulder as Maya rubbed her hand over his forearm. They stretched into one another, Paul groaning sleepily as she turned in his arms. 

“Good morning,” he said gently, his eyes barely open. Maya bit her lower lip and smiled. 

“Morning.” 

“Do you have plans today?” he asked nonchalantly. Maya quirked an eyebrow and stifled a laugh. 

“No, I don’t think so. These are my plans, what about you?” she said in only a slightly teasing tone. 

“Yeah, I want to show you something,” he opened his eyes fully now, looking down at her and Maya looked at him carefully. Not a bit of hesitation in those eyes, she noticed. “Will you come?” 

“Sure,” Maya breathed. She didn’t know why but her stomach erupted with butterflies. He gave her a warm smile and closed his eyes again pulling her closer as he settled back into sleep. 

Later that afternoon, once the rain had stopped and Maya was bundled in her heavy winter coat and rain weathered hiking boots. Paul was dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair neatly coiffed to the side as if he had tried to tidy it up just a little bit. 

Paul drove them into the woods and parked in a clearing. He led her through the forest and they walked for nearly an hour along sloping pathways and fern covered earth. Paul carried her over fallen trees and helped her down rain slicked slopes until the pathways went decidedly up and up. 

“Where are we going?” Maya laughed as she breathed in the briney air, her cheeks flushed red with heat and exertion. Paul looked back at her over his shoulder and squeezed her hand. 

“Almost there,” he reassured her. 

Once they broke through the treeline, Maya knew where they were headed and her heart began to race. 

It was the cliff from her dream all those years ago. Where the wolf had beckoned her forward. 

“Paul what are we—” she began as they started up the slope of the cliff. 

“When you were gone, I went and saw the elders,” he began not looking at her. Maya stopped and her hand fell from his. 

“Oh?” she couldn’t say that that filled her with the reassurance she was hoping for. The elders had been incredibly intrusive throughout their relationship. “What for?” she probed. 

Paul took a few more steps forward toward the jutting edge of the cliff that pulled out over the water. “I was looking for advice and they didn’t really offer me much…until I saw Ti’Hal,” Maya’s eyes widened at that and she followed him a couple steps onto the cliff. 

“Ti’Hal?” She was shivering, not from the cold but from something else. Nerves? She couldn’t place it. No one ever went to Ti’Hal. She was the tribe’s oldest advisor, never came to council meetings anymore, and was a recluse for lack of a better term. Still, she was revered within her community and if you did seek her out, there needed to be a very good reason. She didn’t give away her time easily. 

Paul looked out over the cliffs, the wind whipping around him as he put a hand in his pocket. “I was trying to figure out what to do about us.” Maya’s stomach dropped at that. Paul still didn’t look at her and she felt like she was waiting for other shoe to drop, “I was miserable without you Maya, I think you know that.” 

“Paul—” Maya tried again. 

“No. Let me get this out,” he breathed harshly, turning to look at her finally, his eyes were burning. “Let me, please.” He nearly begged. Maya swallowed hard and nodded. He looked out again for a couple of heartbeats before he continued, turning to look back at her but staying close to the cliffs edge. 

“I was miserable without you. I had no idea what to do about the imprint, how to get you back. It was driving me insane. Actually insane. I didn’t phase back for a few months because I couldn’t handle being without you and lending myself to that animal side was simpler. But that started to make everything worse….I felt like..I was dying without you. And that terrified me.” 

Indeed his eyes were pained and dark and Maya thought the pain of it would reach out and shatter her. That the imprint would begin to tug her closer. But it didn’t. It was odd. 

“I just wanted it all to stop. If you wanted to stay away, be without me, I wanted you to have that and for me not to feel this way anymore. So, I tried to figure out the bond the imprint made. At one point I even asked…I even considered…trying to break it,” his voice was so defeated and Maya couldn’t help a soft sob from escaping her throat at the thought of it. “I was in so much pain, I just…” 

Maya took another small step forward and he continued, determined. “Still, the elders had no advice. The imprint would pull you back to me. There would be no other option but that. And then I saw Ti’Hal. I realized after talking with her that I got the imprint all wrong. I got us all wrong,” his eyes were hard now as they looked past her, through her. 

Was this some sort of sick joke? Fear shot through Maya as she thought the absolute worst. 

“Paul, wait,” Maya said, holding her hand out. 

“No, My,” he shook his head, “Let me finish.” 

“I don’t want you to,” she nearly had to yell over the wind, “Please, let’s just go home.” 

Paul shook his head, a smile now bursting over his face and Maya had to swallow her tears to keep from letting the panic sink in. 

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he said gently. Maya’s eyes widened and she took a step forward. Please don’t let it be bad. “I realized that because of the imprint and because of what everyone thought it meant, you were never given a choice in all this. I was never given a choice in all this.” Maya started to shake her head to stop him, to make him listen, he couldn’t leave her like this. It wasn’t fair. 

“Please,” she choked. 

“I decided I wanted to make a choice in all this. And you deserve one too,” his eyes on her were hard. And he took one step forward but then, he shrank from her eyeline getting onto both of his knees. He was actually kneeling before her, his hand now out of his pocket holding something. “I want you to choose me because it’s what you want. I want a life with you and I want us to create that together. Not because of the imprint or because of what is expected. But because you love me and I love you. I want…I want so bad to marry you, My. Will you marry me?” 

The shiny glimmer of tears caught in the corners of his eyes as he stared up at her. Maya took the last few steps toward him slowly, her mouth open in shock as tears flowed freely over her cheeks now. The ring glittered in his hands, a large oval shaped diamond set in a delicate gold band. Maya was crying completely now, the tears beginning to blur her vision and she couldn't quite catch her breath.

“Will you—” he tried again but Maya cut him off quickly. 

“Yes, yes I will! Yes, Paul. Yes,!” she sank to her knees before him and he tugged her forward, kissing her through her tears as the waves crashed and roiled below them. 

Next > >

[writing-whump]

Silver knife wound

Dylan finds Rip with a stab wound to the stomach that won't heal. Warning for lots of bleeding, talks of death and giving up.

Dylan was worried.

He couldn't find Rip anywhere. He looked at all the usual spots - the old fabric, the parking lot, the garden between the abandoned apartment complexes where street strays did they improved rings every night. Nothing.

Rip wasn't one to hide or lay low. He often circled the building block that he called his territory. Let himself be known. His mere presence often prevented needless fights, wolves rather saving scuffles for the rings than ganging up or going berserk at random.

Dylan thought it was pretty amazing. Rip seemed so detached and tough and like he couldn't care less, but everything he did convinced him otherwise.

If there was any fairness or order to this weird lost world of the street strays, it was because of Rip.

Dylan did another round around the block. He looked with his shadow, his perception of wolf shadows and the scent.

Maybe Rip simply disappeared. He could have jumped on a train and left from one day to the next. There were wolves that preferred such nomadic life. Keeping yourself unpredictable also helped stay safe from Executioners.

A few drops of rain hit his cheek. Dylan looked up. It was warm, but it rained last night all the way to the morning. It was staring again.

He huffed and went back to the ground floor room with broken windows and locks. The couch had a nest of blankets and old jackets that smelled the most like Rip.

At least he could stay over until the rain stopped. The petrichor in the air was heavy. This would be a long and pouring rain. Dylan could tell from all the times he had watched his sister predict, steer or call for a storm like that.

He went more inside the apartment. Broken glass on the floor, a faucet that was dripping - at least that was something - slanted cupboards. No electricity.

It was hard to imagine this was a a place someone could live in. If Rip at least had a caravan or a tent for camping it would seem more dignified than this hole. It reminded Dylan of apocalyptic movies.

He explored further, snooping into the rooms. Bare beds with no sheets. Fungi and water sickering through the walls and climbing up to the ceiling.

The more he looked the more it gave him the creeps.

He opened the small room in the corner that was probably supposed to be a bathroom. It smelled the worst, like canalization not working, sticky and disgusting.

When he opened the room though, the smell of something much more intense and fresh hit his nostrils.

The metallic scent of blood.

Dylan froze in the doorstep, pushing the door completely open with a pounding heart.

Rip was there. Sprawled on the floor against the bathtub, head hanging limply. There was a pool of blood around where he was sitting.

Dylan's breath hitched as he followed the red trail up with his eyes...towards a knife stuck in Rip's side on the left.

Dark blue eyes, glazed over and pained slowly rolled up, meeting his gaze.

That broke the shocked spell.

"Holy shit. Rip!" Dylan was moving immediately, sliding to his knees by Rip's side. "What-what happened to you? What is this?"

"Oh...hey there." Rip blinked at him sleepily. He frowned as if he wasn't sure who Dylan was before the corners of his lips went up. "Dylan, was it?"

"Why isn't this healed?" Dylan hovered his hands over Rip's wound helplessly. "Rip!"

Rip gave him another scarily calm, self-deprecating grin. "Why you think? That's silver, dude. Never seen a silver knife before?"

"But Rip-" Dylan's eyes were wider and wider. This was not the reaction he expected. "How long have you been like this? When did this happen?"

"Hmmmm, not sure." Rip's lopsided grin revealed a row of bloody teeth.

"Have you been like this for hours, minutes? That makes a huge difference." Dylan looked around the broken, dirty and useless bathroom. No towels. He jumped to his feet to try the faucet but even that wasn't working.

"Rip, you need help."

Rip lifted his head sluggishly to focus on him. "There is nothing to do. I can't heal and I have no one to call." He leaned his head back against the tiles, the position looking entirely uncomfortable. "It's fine. It had to happen someday. I expected it sooner, to be honest.

"We need to get you out of here. I heard you shouldn't pull the knife out, so I guess we need to fix it in place so I can carry you-"

"Dylan." It was a quiet word, but rang through the bathroom like a command. "Stop it. It's...okay." Rip swallowed dryly.

"No, it's not! I need to call the hospital-"

"It's useless. This is silver. No chance."

"It doesn't have to be the end! Humans get treatment for things like this and they survive!"

"No ambulance will come here. And they won't treat me. You know I can't be around humans without hurting them. And even if they did, if they found out who I'm....they would kill me on sight. Hunted wolf, you know?" The injured wolf chuckled, the sound bitter and scary with hopelessness. "I can't go to a hospital. No pack will help. It's over."

Dylan was trying to process the new information about being hunted for some mysterious crime and whether it was really true Rip wouldn't get treated.

Everyone got emergency treatement and care, even without an ID or health insurance card or any money. And Austria had better hospitals than Slovakia or Czechia...

Were there other rules for wolves? What did it mean, kill on sight? Why would Rip be on the hunted list?

There were many things he didn't know how to do, how to solve. If he risked it and went into the hospital and they send him away or did Rip in...and he needed to make a decision and fast, cause while the wound was more dripping than seeping, they were running out of time.

Dylan sprinted back to get his backpack he left back at the living room, coming back as quickly as he could. He took the sport tape, self-adhesive one and pulled Rip's shirt out of the way.

The wolf watched him with half-closed eyes, disbelieving and amused. There was a sheen of sweat on his face, his curly black hair plastered to his forehead and neck. "Give it up, city boy. There is no way out of this mess."

"Shut up," Dylan growled, grabbing him by the shoulders so he could lean him forward enough to wrap the tape around Rip's stomach and then carefully as he could around the knife, so it would stick in place.

Rip didn't move, still strangely limp in his hold. Not even hissing at the movement.

"I'm not letting you die," Dylan announced as he fixed the bandage around Rip one more time before tying it up.

"What's the big plan, superman? You don't have a pack either, if I remember."

"My sister got one. And her boyfriend is freaking wolf royalty or whatever. He knows everything. He can fix this." He leaned Rip back against the bathtub, looking him over. "I'm gonna carry you on my back. That way I can run faster. You think the knife will hold?"

"It really doesn't matter," Rip said softly. "I'm gonna die, Dylan. Save yourself the trouble-"

Dylan was done listening. They were wasting time.

He squated down in front of Rip and guided his hands carefully over his shoulders. He pressed Rip's uninjured right side against his back as tightly as possible. The left side with the wound had to stay free, so the knife wouldn't move further.

He adjusted his grip under Rip's thigh, jostling him up a little to get him secured. "I'm sorry. Just hold on to me."

"It's fine," Rip repeated, propping his chin on Dylan's shoulder. "It doesn't hurt."

That scared Dylan more than anything.

He bolted out from the bathroom and out the building, calculating the road in his head. There were no taxis or public transport in the lawless district. But the river wasn't far and beyond the river it was close to Seline's place - Isaiah's place.

If he used his shadow to strengthen his limbs as he ran, he could make it faster than a car.

[collywobbles-n-whatnot]

Extra Extra! (various Yandere x reader)

Reader x Hendrix

(Tabloid journalist! Reader x Rock god! Yandere)

“That was the last time. I can’t keep doing this,” Your breathing evened out as you stared at the ceiling. 

“You said that last time,” Hendrix chuckled and zipped up his jeans. The rockstar sat at the edge of the bed, your dorm was the best spot for your evening escapades since you were one of the few with a single. 

“But I mean it this time. I need to focus on my studies. This also just isn’t me. I mean it’s hot what we’re doing but I’m just not a hit it and quit it person,” you pulled the blankets up over your chest. 

“Could’ve fooled me. We’ll see how you feel next time, huh?” He places his arms on either side of you on the mattress to hover. 

“No next time. No sex. No flirting, not even a wink,” you don’t waver as you look him dead in the eye. It would be all the harder to write about his deepest secrets if you were all tangled up in his life and his legs between the sheets. If you wanted the check you’d have to make some sacrifices. To be fair this is not normal for you at all. You like cute dates with cappachino with latte art and buying each other books you’d think the other would love. But when opportunity knocks and it happens to be one of your top ten celebrity crushes… maybe an exception or three could be made. 

“No fun. What if I promise to do that thing you like,” he sticks out his pierced tongue and you just stare at him. “Yeesh, okay prude. Can we still be friends?” He asks and your face softens into contemplation with no immediate answer. Hendrix adjusts to pin your wrists into the mattress, “Let me rephrase that, I’ll accept your terms if we can still be friends. Otherwise, no deal. We’ll never leave this bed and you’ll never be unsatisfied until we both die of hunger or dehydration or something,” his tone is teasing but his grip was firm. 

“Of course we can still be friends. I just don’t know how you’ll be able to resist all this if we’re hanging out all the time,” You hum brattily. 

“Lord give me strength, I’ll probably need it,” he released you and put his hands together in a little prayer. 

“Ha ha. I’m sure you have a rolodex of hotties with way more experience and curves than me. You’ll survive,” you patted his bare chest and sat up with the sheets in hand. 

“Is that someone talking bad about my best friend. They better be careful, I might have to rough ‘em up,” he leaned his nose into the crook of your neck. You take his chin and swivel his head to the other direction. 

“Woah there, I didn’t say best friends. You might need to work your way up to that,” you stand to find the missing pieces of your uniform on the ground and Hendrix takes a moment to appreciate your butt and get lost in thought. His stomach has been in knots and he couldn’t remember the last time he was this genuinely nervous. He also isn’t sure of the last time he’s been rejected either. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He didn’t like that each time he came over for a little fun there was littered evidence of other guys around. Clayton’s varsity jacket rested on your desk chair, Arthur’s specific brand of note tabs filled your textbook, Brayden’s little bobbles sat on a shelf. Was it true? Did you not normally have casual sex like you did with him? And if so, why did it make him grip the edge of the mattress until the veins popped out of his hands. 

“You coming’? We share Econ next block,” You adjusted your blazer in the mirror. 

“Nah, I’ll just blow it off. You go,” he fell into the mattress with a squeak. You left with an ‘ok, just lock the door before you go.’ He felt something graze his fingers and inspected it. Your underwear. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. He stopped because he knew if he kept going he would be ready for another round, his body was already starting to have a mind of its own on the matter. Fans would throw their bras on the stage during his performances so what’s a little underwear theft between friends. A momento. He shoved it in his pocket and put on his shirt before realizing the much bigger problem at hand. If he has your underwear then you just left commando in that stupidly short skirt the school calls a uniform. He flew out of there with your cardigan, tying it around your waist would give a little more coverage. He could hope at the very least. 

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 12

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook moved around the gym, checking that some of the people he was training were doing the exercises as he asked them to. But while he was there physically, his mind was somewhere else -to the point of almost making it seem like he wasn't even there either.

He remembered how he came across Y/n in their landing earlier that day. It was Wednesday, but her schedule for sure didn't seem like one of her regular weekday's schedule. It was later than she usually stepped out of her apartment, and it was too early compared to when she usually stepped out on the weekends to do whatever she did -if she ever left at all. As his smile dropped and his eyes followed her to the elevator, he could point out the small blue bag she was carrying, and that almost was dragged through the floor by how low it was.

Where was she going?

Could it be that he crossed the line the other day and pushed her to move out? But that bag was too small for that.

Jungkook shook his head, trying to push those thoughts and questions away. He didn't care, it wasn't his business. And, if she left, he for sure would throw a party after he finally was able to get rid of her -even if it was only for a few days.

While the thought of Y/n slowly vanished away, the ringtone coming from his phone helped him distract himself from a thought he didn't want to have.

Not again that weird number.

They had been calling him every few days, only to not reply back whenever he answered the call. At first he thought it was someone mistaken his phone number from the one thay actually wanted to call, until later he just thought it was probably someone messing up with him.

He would've blocked it from making any more calls if it hadn't been for the sudden thought of it possibly being someone in charge of those fights. Because, in case they were, he needed to be approachable to keep getting invited to those.

—Who is it? —he answered with a tired tone.

There was a loud sigh coming from his deepest guts, trying to keep his calm when he was answered back with silence -as usual. It was starting to get tiresome to be living in that situation, at least, three times a week.

—Look, you're starting to bust my balls —he barked—. If you have something to say, say it now. Otherwise I'll find where you are and...

—Jungkook —a feminine voice interrupted him.

His body completely froze when he heard that familiar voice, and sad tone. He could've expected anyone else, but her.

—What... —he gulped the thick knot on his throat to be able to speak properly— What do you want?

—I need to talk to you —she softly said—. I know you hate me, I know you want to know nothing about me, but I really need to see you. Please.

—No —Jungkook quickly shook his head—. I don't care what it is you need to talk with me, I don't want to hear it, and I don't want to see you.

—Jungkook... —she almost begged.

—I told you ten years ago, you don't exist to me.

As soon as he was aware of the silence in the gym, looking up to find the three young guys standing in front of him as they listened to his conversation, Jungkook sighed, making his way to the front door.

—I don't know how many times I need to tell you: you're dead to me —he roughly said—. Stop trying to reach me out. And don't dare show up in front of me, never in your life.

—But...

He ended the call before he could hear what she had to say. She was a total stranger, or so she worked hard to be one for him. He didn't have the patience, nor the strength to deal with anything that had something to do with her.

Not in that moment, not in that lifetime.

Ten years ago he erased his mother from his life, and it'd stay like that for so much longer.

The silence was so heavy that she was sure it'd take a toll on her own balance if she ever tried to get up from the table. That house was usually so cheerful and happy, so carefree and safe, but there was a strange feeling in the air that day. She thought she'd get used to it, or that she'd be mentalized by it when she got on the bus. It was always like that once a year, and she couldn't ever get used to it.

It was always like that when they returned from the cemetery.

The smile that was always on her mother's face because of Mitchell also turned into a straight line, and her eyes reflected the pain she went through exactly five years back in that exact same living room they were sitting at.

Noah's death was difficult to handle for most of them. Even Mitchell was devastated when his wife broke into a broken cry when the doctor walked to her with the heartbreaking news that her son didn't make it out of the surgery. His brain was so damaged that nothing could save him and the surgery would only put him in a thin line between life and death. Yet all of them took the risk, because there still was the small glimpse of hope that made them believe Noah would make it out alive.

It wasn't like they had any other choice either way. He entered that vegetative state after the ambulance picked him up, that didn't matter what would happen, he wouldn't ever be the same again. At least, with the surgery, they all thought he'd wake up again.

—I'll prepare some tea —Mitchell softly said, covering his wife's hands with his—. Do you need something else?

Instead of speaking, Y/n's mother shook her head slowly, not moving her eyes from the concrete spot on the floor she had been fixing her gaze on for the past two hours.

—Do you need anything? —he turned to the two girls sitting on the couch opposite to the one they were sitting at.

—No, thank you —Y/n answered with a tiny smile.

—No.

Despite both saying the same, Hannah's tone was condescending, along with the annoyed look she gave him and that made Mitchell uncomfortable. It was usually like that. For some reason, her sister always had a tough time whenever she had to deal with their mother's husband. It didn't matter what he did, it didn't matter what he said, Hannah would always show off how much she disliked him.

—Could you, at least, make an effort today? —Y/n asked her with a weak voice.

—I didn't do anything.

—Mitchell is having a hard time as we all are right now. You should stop being a bitch to him at least for one day.

—Girls —their mother finally spoke, with the first weak warning.

—Well, I'm sorry, but I don't understand what he's doing here —Hannah ignored their mother—. Isn't it enough to celebrate Noah's death anniversary, but I also have to sit here with someone that has zero to do with this?

—Nothing to do...? —Y/n had to stop herself after she tried to understand what her sister was saying— He's married to our mom, he's been in our lives for so long, he was close to Noah, and you're asking why he's with our family? He's part of our family —she pointed out.

—Oh, dad can't show face here, but Mitchell can?

—Dad abandoned us, he left us behind and didn't care about what we went through. But Mitchell did care. I'm sorry your privileged ass never had to go through any of that.

Hannah had always been the lucky one.

When their father left, without looking back, without caring about all the debts he left pending on their mother alone, the whole stability of the house fell onto her shoulders. Hannah was too busy living her uni days to ever know what it was to see their mother at the edge of depression every single day, with the smile and the spark in her eyes disappearing as time went by. Hannah kept going to college, while Y/n and Noah left their studies aside to help their mother when she wasn't able to go on. They did everything they could, they worked every job they found, and it still wasn't enough.

Debts and bills were being paid, but their mother was in such an awful state that it made them both worry about her health every single day -and that it was only hidden under the carpet when Hannah came back home for some holidays.

She never had to live any of that, because she was always protected from it since she wasn't even living at home. Their mother could pull up an act for a few days.

At least until she met Mitchell, and everything started to seem a little bit brighter every day. Thanks to him Y/n and Noah were able to leave those poor jobs, and she was able to go back to studying; and, most importantly, he gave their mother the wish to live every single day again. He was there when he needed her the most, of course he had every right to go through that mourning with them.

—Y/n! Hannah! Stop —their mother finally got them to stay quiet.

—Hey —all of their eyes were on the man who was waiting by the small arch that connected the living room to the corridor—. I think it'd be better if I stayed in a hotel this week. Hannah is right.

Y/n looked at her mother, trying to get her to react to what was happening, only to see her pressing her lips together with a nervous look in her eyes.

The previous years Hannah didn't even attempt to show up there for that time of the year, she barely even checked on their mother during that day, and the first time she dares to celebrate such an important day, she expects the only person who's always been there to leave.

—Honey, take care, alright? —he kissed his wife's head.

The silence that invaded the house the second after Mitchell left was so heavy and thick that turned twenty minutes into feeling like hours. It was even worse than how it was before he left, which made Y/n wonder if Hannah's problem was actually him or there was something else.

—You always have to be such a drama queen —Hannah rolled her eyes—. It's your fault he left. If you hadn't said anything, nothing would've blown out the way it did.

Y/n bit her lip, nervously trying to hold back all the painful words that were sharpening on the tip of her tongue. She could've said a lot of things, she could've turned that moment into one big fight that would've only made their family distance even more. It wasn't like Hannah cared either way. After that week, she'd probably leave back to Malaysia and forget about everything she'd done there at that moment.

It was like that during her college days, and it would be like that in the present.

—I can't believe you're going to blame me for what you did —she scoffed—. And I can't believe you're selfish to make this day about you either. No one gives a fuck about how you're feeling if it has zero to do with Noah. I don't give a fuck. You've always done this, and you show zero regrets after —her eyes rolled, trying to control the teardrops that were forming in her eyes—. And I can't believe you'd rather do what she wants than standing up for yourself —she turned at her mother—. What's the worst she will do? Leave? That's nothing new. She's just like dad, so I bet it's just a matter of time.

—Stop —her mother finally spoke, standing up to face the two of them—, the two of you. This is the only day I needed you to be supportive, and you ended up fighting about who's right and wrong. It isn't the moment for you to discuss these things, yet here you are doing it.

—So, to keep a peaceful day, you'll just do whatever she wants? —Y/n looked at her mother in disbelief— I understand what you want, but kicking someone out of their own home and dictating how people should mourn isn't the way either —her tone was calm—. And if this is the way you're going to do it, I can perfectly do it like this back in my house.

At first, it just seemed like a threat, until Y/n started picking up her things, only stopping to look at her mother. If Hannah was going to stay there, the best thing she could do was to leave and let her mother have the peaceful day she was seeking -and that she deserved.

Her arms wrapped gently around her neck, giving her a soft hug before she stepped back to hang the strip of her bag over her shoulder.

—I'll call you tomorrow —she assured her.

Her mother didn't try to stop her, or to understand why she was leaving that hostile place the house had become, she just let her go, seeing her body disappearing behind the big main door.

On her way back home in the bus, Y/n kept wondering if she had taken the right decision and if she wouldn't end up regretting it shortly after she arrived back in the city. Her family hadn't looked so broken since Noah died. And suddenly all those feelings were coming back in her system slowly, getting over all of her thoughts and reactions before she could avoid it. Although she held them in, keeping her eyes from dropping the tears piling up and her mouth to let out that whine she had been holding back.

She had enough that day, she just wanted to close herself in her apartment and let everything that happened throughout the day die in her pillow. She just needed a calm night after such a stressful day.

She pressed the button of the elevator a few times, seeing no reaction from it. Usually, the light of the button would light up and would emit a sound to let it be known the lift would arrive to the floor shortly, but it didn't react that night.

Actually, there wasn't the slightest hint of it moving.

Tiredly, she looked up at the stairs at the left of the metallic huge box, giving up trying and just getting to her floor by walking. It was tiring, it wasn't what she actually needed, but it was better than waiting for something that wouldn't happen.

She remained impassive when the click of the door behind her reached her ears after she got to her floor, thinking that ignoring him would be enough and would get him to leave.

—Is the rule only for me? —he teased her— You should have got here with the elev...

—Are you glued to the door? —Y/n asked, still walking to her apartment.

—I wasn't waiting for you —he replied back—. I was just making sure you followed the rules you imposed. You can't be so unfair. If it had been me, you'd have set it all on fire. Am I wrong? I bet you're so used to doing whatever you want that you just don't care about what others' feel.

She didn't care about his words, she had learnt to turn his voice into a blank noise when it was convenient for her. And in that moment, she didn't want to waste energy fighting with him over something so stupid as the division she made on the floor.

But her silence, and how she didn't turn to him to confront him, didn't go unnoticed by him. It just wasn't the way she usually reacted.

—Are you okay?

Stopping a few steps away from her door, right when she was ready to sneak her hand inside her bag to reach her keys, she broke.

It was all silent, and suddenly he heard a snort that hinted at what was happening. Her shoulders shook in rhythm with her hiccups while she cried, and Jungkook suddenly panicked at the idea of him being the cause of it.

—Hey, it's not that serious —he started walking to her—. I was just being an asshole to you, like always —his laugh sounded nervous.

His hands moved over her body without getting to touch her, trying to think what could be the best move he could pull right there. He didn't want to be invasive, but she clearly needed somebody to comfort her. But what was the right way to comfort her?

She just needed some support, something that made her feel like things weren't going as bad as she thought, she just needed something stable among that chaos. Her hug took him by surprise, having his arms hung in the air for a few minutes as he tried to realize what was going on.

He had never had to comfort anyone, he had never had to hug somebody to wash the pain away, and he never had someone doing it for him either, so hearing her sobs and feeling his plaid shirt getting wet on his shoulder by her tears was a new experience that he didn't think he liked.

But he did.

His arms slowly wrapped around her shoulders, while his palm rubbed against her upper back to comfort her, trying to get those powerful whines and continuous tears stop. Her face was hidden in his chest, and only then she noticed how the musky scent from his cologne was more powerful than the tobacco stink impregnated on his clothes.

She didn't even know he smoked.

She actually didn't know anything other than the little war they had going on, and some of the small things she had found out casually. Finally feeling calm enough to break some sense into her mind, with realization hitting her like a truck when she wasn't blinded by how lonely and hopeless she felt. She was so fooled by how good that embrace felt that, for one second, she forgot who she was hugging like her life depended on it.

—If you tell anyone about this, I'll make you eat your own guts —she threatened, with her head still hiding in the fabric of his shirt.

—I won't tell anyone —he assured her.

Jungkook didn't feel the need to hear her explanation, and it somehow made her felt relieved. Because he gave her a safe space where she didn't need to justify herself. He was just there, confused at how he wasn't feeling awkward about it, but warmed but how he was of help.

—This feels... weirdly good —she admitted.

—Uh-hum —he nodded—. Although... maybe...

While he tried to speak, Y/n could feel one of his hands sneaking all the way down her back, having her step back and pushing him away before he could reach the place he had aimed.

—You're a jerk.

—I thought it'd help make you feel better and forget about everything.

—Oh my god, you're sick —she whispered, slowly going back to her usual self—. At first I thought you were an asshole, but now I'm really convinced that you have a disease.

—Could be —he seemed to be serious for one second—. Maybe I need some of your medicine.

There was no reply back to that comment, other than the sound her door made against the door frame.

—Oh, come on. I was just trying to cheer you up.

Although she wasn't angry at him, or disappointed. She wasn't even disgusted. Instead, she found herself smiling. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: The Maritime Finale

This is definitely the last one of these, as it's rounding up a bunch of sea creatures I've missed. I assume by this point everyone who sees this knows what it's about, but just in case: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. (I'll get the rest of the entries on there soon.)

The entry people are working from is here:

The one for next week does not exist. (Also I apologize if I seem rushed, this is a busy week for me.)

Art below the cut!

@pomrania (link to post here) has us off on a weird start with their interpretation of the Fatrihrukh. I don't have any particular nostalgia for rage-face comics (I was online during that era, just not in circles where they were common), but honestly this made me smile. Also I like imagining some fisherman on a dock, still sitting in a normal pose and holding his fishing rod, just full-throat screaming at the sky, apparently apropos of nothing in particular. This is a fun one, is what I'm saying.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has an uncanny ability to make me think, "sure, that looks like an animal that could be real" even when they're drawing something like Fish With Tentacles, which I am 99% sure is not a thing. Though if fish did have tentacles, they would look like that. This is of course also the Fatrihrukh; apparently people like that one.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has done the whole set. A lot of these turned out really well -- I think the Ormlalaehr is stealing the show here, but the Bursgaenga is pretty darn cute. The linked post has details on each of them, which I recommend checking out. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) continues to impress with their delightful art style. Love the little space-invader Magtlegyegs, and the Lungyoggeas are just... wild. Extremely cool looking. (Also, thank you for providing alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) joins the broad consensus that if you're only drawing one of these, it's the Fatrihrukh. I love the (medieval-art-appropriate) choice to give it human-like parts since the entry doesn't say otherwise. The colors are also really pretty; I like the effect on the background.

Okay. Aberdeen Bestiary. No illustrations for this one -- this whole section is just blocks of text.

Ahrmegyaeb

The wording is ambiguous as to whether whales and dolphins also do this -- but the creature in question is the seal. I have no idea how this works; either baby seals are way smaller than I think or I have completely the wrong idea about how seal mouths look.

Bursgaenga

This one is of course the scarus or escarius, which does not exist. Bestiary.ca notes that Scarus is a genus of parrotfish in modern taxonomy, and that the Rackham translation of Pliny the Elder has decided they are wrasse. No idea how well that reflects medieval understanding.

Chraekhret

Another one that doesn't exist, the echenais. Apparently Pliny has heard of some magical applications in love-charms, litigation, and obstetrics. The fish that anchors ships is a good addition to a fantasy setting, I think.

Dhrakyetor

Naturally the fish that looks like a serpent is the eel. More spontaneous generation, too, which is always nice. I swear I've heard that "giant eels in the Ganges" line somewhere before, but can't place it.

Eavbechtgi

Here we have the lamprey. I kind of wonder if this "head vs. tail" thing has something to do with its unusual head shape?

Fatrihrukh

Honestly I probably should have redacted the "many-footed" thing, because the name given is polippus, which... yeah, that actually tracks. I thought maybe this was the result of someone not bothering to actually count the limbs on an octopus, but it's apparently an obsolete umbrella term for octopus, squid, cuttlefish... all manner of tentacled cephalopod.

Griggkhraz

This is the torpedo, which is some fun etymology. The modern usage of torpedo is inherited from non-self-propelled naval mines, which were named after this torpedo, an electric ray. (Presumably they named mines after it because it hides itself & zaps you if you accidentally step on it.) The rays were named for their effect on people whom they zap: torpidus, 'numb'. This is of course cognate with English torpid. Which is a strange word to be cognate with the thing you shoot at boats.

Also:

...if a torpedo from the Indian sea is touched by a spear or rod, even from a considerable distance, the muscles of the fisherman's arms, even if they are very strong, grow numb...

Would that work if it were a metal rod?

Hretchngin

This is the crab. I did not know all of that about crabs, especially the basil thing.

Khaboghrad

Meet the sea urchin. That's why it specifies "the maritime kind" -- the other kind of urchin is a hedgehog. I don't know why the author calls it "worthless and contemptible", especially since they go on to say it can do this really cool thing. Just seems unnecessarily mean.

Lungyoggea

This one is just shellfish. All of them, apparently. The words given are conca and concle -- Latin concha covers shellfish in general.

Magtlegyeg

Naturally the pearl-bearing shellfish is the oyster, but I love the imagery of oysters going ashore to be fertilized by dew from heaven. The idea of going out at night to watch the oysters migrate onto land and catch the dew is another thing I'm taking note of for a fantasy setting.

Nolthrigyo

Someone probably clocked this one: it's the murex snail, source of the famous "tyrian purple" dye.

Ormlalaehr

Really pushing the definition of "fish" here is... the tortoise. Technically also the turtle, I guess, since the author specifies that this includes land and sea varieties. This is, I think, one that makes total sense once you know what it is, so we're moving on to our last one, which is also really pushing the "what is a fish" envelope...

Riggmungku

This is the frog, also obvious once you see it. The fact that it's being called a fish really throws you off, though, I think.

And that's the whole lot. This has been fun, but I'm also glad to have it completed. (Well, completed with the exception of any responses to this one I've missed or that came in late.) Thanks to everyone who's been looking in on this project -- thanks doubly to everyone who contributed -- and thanks triply to the handful of people who drew something practically every week.

[thannwriting]

Yang sneaks up on Ruby (Lancaster)

Ruby peeked from behind the tree, watching Jaune chop the wood they were going to use for the campfire. Technically, she was supposed to be gathering berries right now, but she’d already done it. 

Berries were nowhere as good as cookies, she harrumphed. And that was final. 

No matter how much Ren tried to convince her and Nora otherwise, with his disgusting green smoothie shakes... 

Uncle Qrow had made them do everything they needed to do to live out in the wilderness, which included foraging and hunting for food. Once the cookie snacks ran out, there were no more cookies...

Jaune stood tall, a heavy axe in his hand. Ruby watched as he brought it down, grunting, making a noticeable dent. He brought it back up for another round, and slammed it home on top of the wood, splitting it cleanly in two. Both pieces fell to the side, and he was already bending down to get another block to hew. 

J-Jaune was shirtless! 

Ruby unashamedly watched, as the tight muscles of his arms flexed and rippled with every grunt. With every forceful swing of the axe, muscles across his body rippled. Biceps, triceps, deltoids, pectorals. 

In the morning sun, his sweat glistened on his skin. He set the head of the axe into the next chunk of wood, as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, perspiration dripping onto the ground. 

Since when was Jaune lean and beefy, and almost tan? Noodles weren’t supposed to be beefy, they were supposed to be limp and skinny! Beacon, and more specifically, Percy’s and her dad’s training routine, had done him nothing but favors.  

“Hey Ruby.”

Ruby would have ‘eeped’ if not for the hand muffling her mouth. She kicked and struggled for a few moments, but eventually gave up. She couldn’t physically overpower Yang. 

“So, whatcha looking at?” Yang whispered conspiratorially, “Ladykiller again?”

“What do you mean again?” Ruby whispered back furiously. 

“Aww don’t play coy~” her elder sister grinned, “You’ve been watching him for the past thirty minutes haven’t you, you dirty little sister... Watching his muscles at work, dripping sweat~”

Ruby’s face and ears turned red at the image her dirty mind conjured up. 

“Yang!” she launched herself at her sister, tackling her into the brush, further from Jaune. Still, it only widened Yang’s stupid grin. They grappled for a few short moments, before Yang came out on top, pinning Ruby beneath her.  

“Alright, alright, I think it’s interrogation time,” Yang grinned. 

Noooo-

“So, why do you like Jaune?” 

“W-What do you mean?” Ruby played innocent.

Yang looked at her. 

“Sis, you are the worst liar I’ve ever seen,” Yang rolled her eyes, “Come on now, out with it.” 

“Okay, fine!” Ruby tried to throw her hands up in exasperation, but suddenly remembered that Yang had pinned them to her sides. 

“I like him because he was there for me, okay? He was just like me. My first friend at Beacon.”

Ruby could still remember when she blew up dust and made a crater, and he was there for me, offering her his hand. It made her feel fuzzy and warm inside, thinking of him. Appearing to her like her knight in shining armor, unafraid and unrelenting.  

“We were two awkward dorks that had each others’ backs. He’s nice, and honest, and dorky, but that’s what I like about him. He’s clueless, and dorky, and a klutz, but all the little things he does are what I like about him. He told me about his tr-”

Ruby cut herself off abruptly, internally panicking. She couldn’t betray Jaune’s trust like that! No way! Not after he confided in her! 

“He told me about his troubles,” Ruby amended, mentally clapping herself on the back for the quick thinking, “He confided in me. He trusted me. He’s honest, and caring, and kind. That’s what I love about him.”

Ruby finished, looking up at Yang hopefully. 

The blonde had a massive grin on her face. 

“I think someone’s in love~” 

Yang sobered up, “Okay, I approve. You like him for him. You can date him, but on one condition:”

Ruby didn’t like this. 

“No fooling around in the dark you know? We’re all trying to sleep, so at least keep it quiet if you’re too pent up, you know~”

Ruby moaned in distress.

—From Chapter 33 of my PJO x RWBY fanfic, Never Change. Feel free to check the fanfic out!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077305/1/Never-Change

Never Change - Chapter 1 - Wattpad

[autistpride]

Autism Acceptance

Prompt 9: Detective AU

Word count: 1000

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus grabbed his bag and shrank it down, placing it into his pocket, and stepped from Scrivenshafts . 

“Remus!”

Remus jumped at the sudden exclamation of his name and his eyes rolled before greeting Sirius. “Hello, Sirius. Having a good day?”

“I need your help on a case.”

“I can’t today. I have a lot of homework and I was just about to go get lunch with Lily.”

“Cancel your lunch date with Lils. She’ll understand. You’re having lunch with me instead.” Sirius said as he rounded Remus, threw his arm over Remus’ shoulder, and started walking in the direction of the pub. 

Remus sighed and grumbled, “Well, you didn’t leave me much choice in the matter.”

“That’s the spirit Moony!” Sirius replied with a grin 

Remus sent Lily a patronus explaining the situation and Lily replied, “thoughts and prayers” which forced a bark of a laugh from Sirius. 

“Someone appears to be playing pranks on the students and it isn’t us. They can’t just show up and take my job! You’ll be helping me figure out who.”

“You want me to do what Sirius? You want me to analyse the crime scenes? Stand on the tables in the Great Hall and be a decoy? Do you really think it wise?” Remus snapped

“I think you’re perfect for the job. No one better than you to figure out what the prankster is thinking and help me get two steps ahead.” 

“Because of my furry little problem?” Remus asked confusedly before taking a large gulp of his butterbeer.

“No cause you're autistic.” Sirius said bluntly, causing Remus to cough and choke on the liquid.

Sirius waited a moment for Remus to settle back down. “You’re autistic. You notice patterns and details many others don’t notice. You see things from others perspectives and empathise with others. It makes you the best person for this case. You can use that information to think like the prankster and that's critical for catching them!” 

“You know just because I’m autistic doesn’t mean I could do that.” Remus said, slumping down in his seat with a small flush on his face.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Moony. I’ve known you for seven years and I know you are very good at finding and recognizing patterns and thinking logically. I mean you are the brains behind some of our more clever pranks. But most importantly, you are good at reading people. I think you’ll excel at catching this mischief maker.”

The two finish up lunch and wave by to Aberforth before returning to the dorm room where Sirius pulls out all the information he gathered over the last few months. Remus poured over all the evidence carefully before asking, “who are your suspects?”

“I have three. First Barty Crouch Jr, second Alice, and the third William Weasley.”

“Isn't Weasley just a first year? What makes him and the others a suspect?’

 “Crouch was seen near several of the crime scenes. Alice was seen talking to the victims before they were pranked. And I overheard Weasley say he likes to prank his parents and siblings at home.” Sirius said, puffing out his chest in pride at all the work he had done so far.

Remus spent the week gathering more information on each of the suspects and observing their behaviour. He even was able to subtly ask other students about the suspects. He took through notes and documented everything he found before approaching Sirius with his findings.

“Based on my research I believe your culprit is Alice. She has a connection to most of the victims, was seen talking to them before they were pranked, and has a history of being aggressive towards those who are bullies.” Remus said.

“Excellent work Remus! I knew you could do it.” Sirius said, standing up and making for the door.

“Sirius! You can’t just confront her about this. You have to be subtle otherwise she might get defensive.” Remus said, blocking the doorway.

Sirius and Remus find Alice easily enough in the common room and stand next to her table.

“What can I help you with?”

Remus glances at Sirius before Sirius speaks, “We’d like to talk to you about the recent pranks.”

“What recent pranks?”

“We’ve been investigating a series of pranks that have been happening that haven’t been caused by us.”

Remus notices Alice’s expression looks startled for a moment but she recovers quickly.

“So were you aware of these pranks?”

“I may have heard about them from some students.”

“And did you know any of the students pranked?”

“You were seen talking to them all before they were pranked.” Remus interrupted.

Remus could tell that Alice was nervous.

“Were you aware that they were pranked shortly after you talked to them?”

“Oh... uh... No I wasn't.” Alice said

“What are you two doing?” Lily asked as she strode across the common room with Pandora. Dorcas and Marlene stood near the portrait looking bored but failing at not looking interested in the way the conversation was going. 

“Alice, come on we'll be late.” Lily said, helping her pack up her books. Pandora whispered to Alice and hugged her before they all huddled together and then disappeared back out of the portrait to whatever they would be late for. 

Remus watched them go and whispered to Sirius, “they are all in on it. Alice is the distraction.”

“What?” Sirius asked, shocked.

“When investigating I noticed a lot of inaccuracies in people’s stories and tonight just proved it. Their mannerisms all indicate that they are actually all working together.”

“So I should chase after them and call them out on it?”

Remus laughed, “Oh pads, you accuse them and you’ll be next in line for their wrath. Let them have their fun.”

Sirius pouted and then perked up, “You know what this means Moons?”

Remus shrugged, “That the Valkyries are better pranksters than us since they have never been caught?”

“No this means we’re in competition now and we can’t lose. A prank war.”

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Kamaitachi

CR 13

Chaotic Evil Medium Fey

Bestiary 6, pg. 176

These wicked and fickle fey can appear just about anywhere that there's pain to be caused and lives to be ended. They appear cloaked in their Dust Devils, magical winds that whip around them at all times, carrying their little weasely bodies around like a single spaghetti noodle in a pot of boiling water. Despite how cute and silly they look, they're among the most vicious and sadistic of all Fey, maximizing the fear and agony in whatever creature crosses their path for no other reason than their own twisted amusement. What's worse is that there's almost no warning before they strike; depending on what sort of debris is in the Dust Devil, one may not see the beast within until the wind blows past them and tears the flesh from their bones.

While in their shell of wind, Kamaitachi (which I will shorten to 'itachi' from here on out) can fly at speeds of up to 120ft a round without issue, bending and twisting through the air with the ease of a barracuda in the open sea. Their sole offense is their quartet of Deadly Claws, scythe-like limbs so razor sharp that they can straight up do the Samurai Diagonal Cut at will, but more on that later, for now we'll focus on the claws themselves. Each claw deals 1d6+12 damage boosted by their constant Greater Magic Fang to hit even harder, and as previously mentioned these claws are especially deadly, critically hitting on a 19 or 20 and dealing x3 damage on a successful crit. Every blow also lacerates the target to deal 1d6 bleed damage a round, and the weapons of the Itachi are designed to flay the targets so agonizingly that a struck creature must make a DC 23 Fortitude save every time they're hit or become sickened by the pain for a round.

Able to make upwards to four of these attacks if it manages to Full-Attack, an adventuring party will rarely have to deal with that except against a foolish Itachi. It's got Flyby Attack and no reason not to use it to cut a party to ribbons bit by bit, savoring their slow and terrible demise. It can get away with this kiting behavior, too, because while a cursory glance at its stat block reveals only DR 10/Cold Iron as its primary physical defense, you have to look a little further down to realize that you're going to need to be able to fly or have a way to ground the beast to actually fight it and win, because Dust Devil automatically deflects ALL small projectiles; arrows, bolts, and bullets are utterly useless against it, and any throwing weapon has a 30% miss chance. Magical AoE, lines, cones, and rays all still work, though they have to contend with the wonder weasel's 24 Spell Resistance.

Side note because I'm legally required: If you or a loved one has ever been beaten to death by a creature with Flyby Attack, please remember to regularly apply readied actions to your party bruisers.

Anyway, these vicious weasels have another, far more horrific use for their claws than ripping someone to shreds: blackmail. As I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, Itachi can swing their cutting limbs with such speed and ferocity that the victim doesn't even realize they've been cut until the violent fey blows on them just a little too hard and they fall to pieces. Delayed Doom allows the fey to 'store' its claw hits up on any number of targets, preventing the damage, bleed, and Pain but leaving it on a trigger delay, allowing it to deal otherwise fatal damage to a creature but refrain from killing them outright.

Such unfortunate creatures are walking time-bombs, the Itachi able to cause the stored damage, bleed, and agony to blow up all at once with nothing more than a free action at any point within the next two weeks. This allows the Itachi to wring poor souls for all they're worth in the hopes that it will choose to spare their life, turning friends and family against one another or forcing victims to perform painful, humiliating, dangerous, or otherwise criminal actions at its request... only for many such victims to suddenly fall to bloody pieces anyway, as the Fey has no compulsion to honor any deal it makes.

This also means an Itachi can do a drive-by scything on someone and make them believe it missed, so it can just float in the air above them, giggling to itself as it picks the perfect moment to make their head fall off. Being hit with a Full-Attack causes, at minimum, 52 damage + 1d6 bleed, so an especially sinister DM could have one of these creatures ambush the party multiple days in a row, FA-ing them one at a time before flying off, and then once it's stored up damage on everyone over a few days, drop in and instantly take off half the party's HP with a free action. That, or fly down, hit someone a few times, then fly back into the sky and carefully wait for their HP to drop below a threshold where the Delayed Doom would kill them. Is that unfair? Yes. I only recommend this tactic if you want to be especially evil to your party!

How does it know if someone is below a specific threshold, though? Because Itachi can also cast Status at will, and frequently do so in order to keep track of interesting or amusing victims. If a victim manages to get further than 1 mile from the weasel, or is so amusing to it that it doesn't trigger Delayed Doom for 2 weeks, all the stored damage falls off harmlessly, so the weasel has a vested interest in keeping them relatively close if it wishes to prolong its suffering.

Delayed Doom also ends if the Itachi is slain, and doing so is actually a little bit simpler than it looks... if you have access to specific spells. See, the Dust Devil of a Kamaitachi gives it incredibly offense and defense, but the weasels must maintain control of the wind in order to keep its shields up. If it enters the radius of any spell which controls or alters the winds, no matter the spell's level, it must save against the spell or the Dust Devil dissipates, taking away the Itachi's fly speed, immunity to projectiles, and 6 points of its AC (lowering it from 29 to 23). Alter Winds and Control Weather are both options presented by the book itself, but with such long cast times (and Control Weather being a spell level too high for a party encountering a single Itachi besides), you may want to aim for more practical spells such as Calm Air, Tailwind, Air Geyser, or Gust/Blast of Wind, all of which either end the Itachi's flight or can easily be argued to do so.

The Itachi can still make a saving throw against the incoming inconvenience, but if it fails it has to waste its entire turn using one of its 3 castings of Control Wind on itself just to restart its Dust Devil, giving the party enough time to surround it and beat the snot out of it. Without its defensive tornado it's both less mobile and more vulnerable to being beaten into the ground... and depending on how high up it was when your party invoked the winds, it might already be damaged by the fall. I think, after all the trouble one of these little bastards can put a party through, they may take some satisfaction in seeing it hurl towards the ground, tumbling end over end like a dropped pasta noodle.

You can read more about them here.