#but imagine the head room from return to oz

[cl0verfairy]

honestly getting into egl to wear doesn't feel ready or nice yet.... thinking abt mannequin display for coords rather than wearing

[aheathen-conceivably]

Zelda was walking back to her own bedroom after preparing Violette for bed. It was rarer and rarer that she got to spend these moments with her daughter anymore. As she grew older it was more likely for her to ask her father to bring her to bed after an afternoon in the farmyard; or, as was her new habit, to insist on her independence by asserting that she could wrap up her own hair and tuck herself into her embroidered sheets alone.

So as Zelda turned the door handle and stepped over the threshold, the last thing she expected to hear was a small voice calling Momma from behind her. Immediately, Zelda turned around to see Violette with an uncharacteristic fear in her eyes. But she had grown quiet, so Zelda tried to prompt her to speak again by asking if everything was alright. When she didn't answer, Zelda walked nearer, trying to ignore the voice in her mind that told her maybe she had only imagined her daughter calling out after her.

As she sat on the bed, her repeated question only prompted another bout of silence, before Violette brought her knees up to her chest and spoke looking at them, "Momma, do you - do you ever have nights when you can’t sleep?”

A rush of memories distracted Zelda from the question, vivid sounds of waterfalls and the smell of trees in the damp morning air. She pushed them aside to speak to the child in front of her who knew nothing of those nights. “Of course, my love. Do you want to tell me what’s keeping you up? Are you afraid?”

Violette shook her head vigorously, “I’m not afraid. Of anything. It’s just..why’s it so quiet here? I try to sleep and there’s nothing. Back at home - I mean New Orleans, it was never quiet. When I would lie in bed I would just listen to you and Poppa and then I could always sleep.”

Zelda’s focus on keeping herself in the moment distracted her from her daughters accidental admittance that she still knew of her parent’s late night careers, or the way she still called New Orleans home. “You know when I was a girl I could never sleep. It was like the thoughts in my head wouldn’t quiet down on their own, especially when they were supposed to and everything else had gone silent, is that how you feel?”

When Violette nodded in agreement Zelda brought her hand to her face, “Do you mind if I go and grab something for you? I’ll only be gone a minute.”

For a moment Violette looked nervous but she signaled for her mother to go, only for Zelda to return a moment later with a book in her hand. She sat next to Violette and opened it, “This was my favorite growing up. It’s part of the reason I came here, to America, where I met your father. The girl reminds me an awful lot of you, so when you can’t sleep or your mind won’t quiet, you can go here, into a new world in your imagination for a little while.”

Violette eyes scanned the golden script of the title page intently. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Then she turned the page, and another, and another. It was unlike any other book she had ever seen. All of the words were set alongside pictures, fanciful drawings of a girl with her hair in pigtails as she walked alongside a proud lion and a shining man made of metal.

Zelda watched Violette’s fingers trace along the words, exactly where her own had hundreds of times before. Knowing that her daughter was already gone yet again, she looked down at her a bit sadly, “And if you still can’t sleep just come find me or your Poppa, okay? We’re right next door.”

But Violette was too engrossed in the colorful drawings to answer, so Zelda rose to her feet and walked back to her own room where she had always kept the book near her pillow before that night.

Night after night as she read it, Violette never took her mother up on her offer, although she still rarely slept. Rather she laid in bed reading and rereading the book her mother had given her and imagining that she was Dorothy, swept up in something so powerful and grand that it turned everything upside down and suddenly she was in a land of magic and fantasy.

Then finally, somewhere between the pages, she would drift off into a dream-filled sleep. Through the corridors of slumber she would walk amongst a city just like Oz, one that was never quiet or dark like the desert outside her window. Each and every corner was filled with beauty and life, luminous with people who danced and sang more magnificently than anyone could ever imagine.

The lights there twinkled even more brightly than the night sky ever did; and in her mind she would stand between them, halfway between the ground below and the sky above, shining more dazzlingly than either. It was a place made just for her, one where all her dreams would come true. A land of fantasy and wonder and endless lights shining just for her in the darkness…

[hah-studios]

Dorothy and Scarecrow kiss 20?

Kiss on a scar (writing prompt list)

This take place after the Wizard leaves Oz:

Scarecrow walked through the halls of the Emerald City. He passed more than one Ozian who was in good spirits. It had been a week since the death of the Wicked Witch of the West and the whole country was still celebrating.

Scarecrow would’ve joined in, if things had gone the way they were suppose to.

After the Witch had fallen Scarecrow, along with his friends Dorothy, Tin Woodsman, and Lion, returned to the Emerald City to get what they had been promised from the Wizard.

Scarecrow had gotten his brain, it was a comfortable weight in his head and his thoughts felt both faster and more organized. Tin and Lion were also enjoying the heart and courage they had been gifted.

But Dorothy…Dorothy had been wronged.

The young woman had traveled farther than all of them, had faced all the dangers, had been the one to best the Witch. All she had wanted was to go home and the Wizard had utterly failed her. The daft man had floated away in a hot air balloon meant for Dorothy, leaving her behind in tears.

Her three friends had been so enraged by this they had been willing to throw away the gifts they had been given but Dorothy told them there wasn’t a need to.

Still, it crushed Scarecrow to see her, usually so bright and optimistic, constantly in tears and dragging her feet. They were trying to help, Scarecrow had been trying to think of some way to get her back to Kansas. But it had been three days since the Wizard had parted and no progress had been made.

He was going to check on his friend now, Tin talking to a Winkie who had come to visit and Lion (accompanied by Toto) going to find food for themselves and Dorothy.

He reached the fancy jeweled door that led into the room given to Dorothy. Scarecrow himself had been given to room but without a need to rest he was rarely inside it. And after days of traveling with his companion, it felt unnatural to spend the night alone.

As a scarecrow he had not been raised up proper even if Dorothy would call him a gentleman on occasion, so he didn’t knock before he opened the door.

The young brunette woman was standing in the middle of the room, barefoot with her hair down and her blue dress replaced by a green slip she could sleep in.

Dorothy jumped at his sudden appearance, a shade of red coming to her freckled cheeks.

“You startled me!” she scolded, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Sorry!” he jumped at her sharp tone. “I wasn’t-sorry.”

The two stood where they were, staring at each other for a moment. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes looked so tired and sad. And although he was just made of straw, Scarecrow felt his insides twist. She was so bright eyed when they first met, ready with a smile and a kind word. Scarecrow rarely felt anger, but he was enraged that the Witch and Wizard had taken that from her.

This was the Dorothy the Ozians didn’t see, the girl traumatized that she had taken the lives of two women-no matter how evil they were-and it was both a blessing and a curse that Scarecrow was close enough with her to see her in such a state.

Dorothy shifted, breaking eye contact, “Is something wrong?”

“N-no. I just wanted to check on you,” he admitted, then awkwardly pointed back to the closed door. “If you want me to leave I can-”

“NO!” he jolted again at her volume and she quickly dropped her voice to a lower level. “No. Please stay. I need the company.”

More than happy to oblige Scarecrow walked over to sit next to her on the giant green bed. Dorothy kept her hands in her lap and was still staring at the floor. Scarecrow leaned back and kept his gaze on her.

She’s so beautiful…thoughts like that wasn’t a surprise when they popped up. It was thoughts that had drifted through his straw-filled head not longer after he had first met her. He knew he hadn’t had much experience in the world, that they was much he was going to see and do. But he couldn’t imagine finding a wonder like Dorothy Gale of Kansas, anywhere else.

And he felt guilty that he couldn’t be as sad and frustrated as she was. Because a part of him that he’d never voice, not even to Tin and Lion, not even to Toto who couldn’t talk, wanted her to stay here. In Oz. With him.

His blue and white eyes moved down to her shoulders, for once bare, and he noticed a spot just below her left shoulder. A spot of red flesh.

“What’s that?” he pointed to the scar, resisting the urge to touch her.

Dorothy looked down and winced. Fear clouded her blue eyes and Scarecrow regretted asking.

“It happened when-when the Wit-when Morgana melted. A piece of her it-it landed on my arm and…” she shuddered, her eyes growing wet. “It burned me.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he spoke seriously, in his kingly voice he had adopted now that he was in charge of Emerald City. “You were a prisoner. You didn’t know that would happen. The Witch of the West is gone because of her own choices. Not yours.”

This time he didn’t resist the desire to lift his hand up and left his cloth thumb brush against the burn mark. Dorothy turned her head away from him.

Scarecrow wasn’t used to having a brain and thinking properly, so he must have forgotten to use it when he bent his head and let his artificial mouth touch the small scar. He was sure if he was an expert at using his brain, he wouldn’t have done such a thing. It would just make him think of things that could never happen.

Dorothy’s head shot back around to look at him, the rest of her face a stark contract against the surprise bright in her eyes.

Scarecrow pulled his head away quickly but didn’t move his body away. “I just-I’m glad it was you who made it out of there.”

“You would’ve never gotten put back together if I hadn’t.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I could’ve been in perfect help and I’d want you to come out of there. I would’ve risked fire for you to get out of that castle safely. You’re…” He shook his head, once he was used to having a brain he’d think of the right words. “You’re special to me.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Without a word she leaned her body against him, rubbing her face into his shoulder like she used to do when she was sleeping during their travels. Scarecrow wouldn’t move an inch if his life depended on it.

Dorothy sighed shakily, “You’re a good friend.”

[the-whumpening]

The Caged Tiger | Part 2

Prev | Masterpost | Next

CW: violence, forced nudity, minor character “death,” dehumanization, medical whump, noncon bathing, blood, restraints, humiliation

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

Sweat drips from Ash's brow, burning as it glides down his eyelids and into his tear ducts. His breath is staggered and rough; he stumbles to his hands and knees, a dribble of saliva and blood trailing out of his mouth. Owen's torn, limp body lays before him, sword still in hand.

"You're still holding back, aren't you?" Ozmund asks as he enters the dingy pit. With an easy wave of his hand, Owen's wounds stitch together, and he gasps back to life. Ash, too, is healed of his injuries; he can feel his energy and strength returning in an instant.

“Man!” Owen groans, “That never stops hurting! How many more times do we have to do this today, Oz? Personally, I think three deaths in one day is a lot.”

Although Ash is no stranger to death, killing Owen again and again, watching him being revived each time, is unnerving in ways he never imagined. Necromancy never sat quite right with him to begin with, but this . . . He can feel it in himself already—a hollowness that grows each time he’s healed and set upon his prey once more. It isn’t a cold detachment, blind to the pain they both experience, but rather a desolate ache. Something gets left behind, though he’s not quite sure what.

Ozmund glares at Owen, then consults the notebook he always carries with him. Snapping it shut, he sighs, “I suppose this will work for a baseline. Fine. Make yourself useful and start some tea, then. I’ll be in the lab for a while. Oh, and send down Faye—I’ll need her assistance.”

A shimmer of magic binds Ash’s hands, and an invisible force holds the chain around his neck, leading him like a dog behind Ozmund. He silently follows the winding halls, his head hung low and hair still matted with sweat. Each quiet fall of his bare feet thuds in his ears and keeps rhythm with his racing pulse.

Entering the lab, Ash is ushered against a wall, where his chain is latched to a ring mounted high in the stone. Unable to sit, he continues to stare holes into the floor, pulling his shoulders into himself as if to hide from view. Meanwhile, he can hear Ozmund bustling around the room, inspecting cabinets and drawers to pull out a few tools and arrange them on a stone slab table. Ash's anxiety builds as each piece is carefully lined up along the rest; his mind races wondering what Ozmund is planning.

He flinches as a timid knock on the door shatters the silence.

"Enter," Ozmund calls, still engrossed in his preparations.

Ash hesitantly glances up, finding a small, delicate elf carrying a tin wash basin filled with cleaning supplies. Although his pulse slows slightly seeing she's not a threat, a wave of humiliation takes its place as he realizes why she's there.

"Clean him up, please, Faye," Oz orders absently as he flips through pages in his notes. "Then we'll get measurements and vitals—the usual."

"Right away, sir," Faye replies. She smiles warmly at Ash, and he drops his gaze in response, his cheeks burning fiercely. Does she not know what he's up to? Does she just not care? Or maybe, Ash wonders as he notes the oak leaf pendant around her neck, she doesn't have a choice.

With deft efficiency, she empties her supplies from the tub and swiftly removes Ash's soiled clothes. His face reddens—even the tips of his ears flush bright pink. A distant instinct wants to cover himself with his tail, but he remembers with mounting shame that it's no longer there. Faye places the basin at his feet, and he steps in.

He could have lived with the humiliation of being stripped and bathed by a stranger, naked and shivering in the dungeon-like laboratory—embarrassed, certainly, but he could have dealt with that indignity. But to his dismay, Ozmund looks up from his notes at just that moment. Hot stinging tears burn at the corners of Ash's eyes; he tucks his chin deep in his shoulder to hide his face as Ozmund steps closer, arms folded, to observe.

“So,” Ozmund’s voice, clinical and clear, echoes through the room. Ash grits his teeth. “It seems a lot has changed since we last met. No stripes, no tail, no cat ears—I’d hardly call you a tiger at all. That eye is new as well.”

The creature dwelling behind Ash’s eye stirs, watching Ozmund with intense curiosity and whispering indecipherably. You’re still here? Ash reaches out mentally. Although it doesn’t reply, he can feel a kind of confirmation. Somehow, Hsa’s presence makes him feel a little less alone.

Impatient, Ozmund huffs. “Pardon the phrasing—that was a question. How exactly did this happen?”

Ash says nothing.

“Some magical transaction? Or is this a part of your life cycle?”

Still, Ash remains silent, his lips pressed in a tight line.

“Not that you’d understand, but this is important data,” Ozmund snipes. “Your dear sister and brother both exhibited transformations like this. It’s truly a shame I haven’t been able to study your eldest brother . . . yet, anyway. Still, three out of four isn’t bad.”

His stomach churns and bile rises in his throat—he’s done this to Kitara and Nino as well? I remembered her mentioning something about him, but . . . He’s grateful at the moment for Faye, who stands on a stool to clean his face and hair, blocking Ozmund’s view. An errant tear slips out of his eye, and she gives a pitying smile as she wipes it away. His shivering muscles feel suddenly on fire, shaking from white-hot rage. He clenches his jaw even tighter against the bitter, acidic taste on his tongue; don’t do this—don’t let him get to you.

“Fine, then. I’ll find out one way or another.” He wanders to the table, grabbing his book and supplies. “I like you better silent, anyway.”

[ascendancy-echoes]

Chapter 20: False Normalcy

Later that morning, as Ismene and Russ entered the workshop, Ismene let out a heavy sigh and said, “Russ, you don’t have to do any work today. I’ll be okay.”

“I can work,” Russ retorted. “I don’t need to rest, Izzy.”

“I’m just trying to be nice,” Ismene replied. “You were imprisoned by Nocturna. I can’t imagine the last two months were great for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Russ replied, reassuringly, although the slip in his accent hinted that he was annoyed that Ismene was fussing over him. “Can we just drop the matter and get to work? It’ll be good for me to get back into a sensible routine.”

Ismene sighed and nodded. She turned and slithered to the back room where she immediately got to work measuring out some dried mint and other herbs to grind in her mortar. Grinding the plants into a fine powder relieved some of her frustration but she still found herself fuming silently towards Oz and Nocturna. She should be happy Russ was back but she was equally mad at Oz and Nocturna for taking him away in the first place and Russ’s return reminded her of that fact.

Neither spoke to the other as they worked. Ismene kept glancing in Russ’s direction as she worked. He was mumbling something under his breath as he slowly put together small boxes of cough drops and other medicinal products that didn’t need a prescription from Paion.

After several silent minutes, Russ said he was finished and he was going to take the delivery and return when he was done.

Ismene frowned. The fear that he wouldn’t return nagged at her mind, but she tried to stay calm and remind herself that Noctis Arbitra had assured them both that he was free now. She let out a small sigh and said, “Okay… Please be safe.”

Russ only nodded before departing with the small basket of deliveries and order booklet.

~o~O~o~

It didn’t take long for Russ to reach the general store and deliver the order. As he was placing the items onto the counter for the shopkeep to collect, Russ found it odd that no one seemed surprised to see him. Hadn’t they missed him these last two months? He found himself so distracted by this fact that he was a bit startled when the shopkeep asked if he was alright.

He nodded and quickly claimed he was just tired, thanked them for their payment and left. Russ could have gone home back to Ismene, but he had a lot on his mind and only one person he could trust. Making a detour to Belinay’s shop, he found it was closed. Belinay had never been one to open shop early in the morning and now Russ suspected he knew the reasons why.

Still, he knocked on the door and hoped she was there and not at the Order’s headquarters.

Moments later, the lace curtain on the door’s window parted slightly before the door unlocked and Belinay poked her head out. Her eyes gleamed as she silently gestured for Russ to hurry in before anyone noticed.

Belinay quickly shut the door behind Russ and locked it. She clapped her hands together and said, “What brings you here Russ? Did you sleep well?”

Russ nodded. Then he explained how no one in town seemed surprised to see him given that he had been gone for two months. He expressed concern about what to tell everyone besides Ismene if they did ask where he had been.

“First, take a deep breath,” Belinay remarked. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Looking thoughtful, she added, “I suppose I should have told you before but I did slip into town a few times disguised as you just so no suspicion would be roused.”

“Don’t fret, everyone knows you’re not one for small-talk and it was easy to say that you were simply busy and needed to get back to work,” she added.

Russ didn’t know how to feel that Belinay had masqueraded as him but at least he wouldn’t have to lie to the town about his whereabouts. One less thing to worry about. He sighed and nodded.

“I trust things are fine with Ismene?” asked Belinay.

“Y-yeah… she seems to accept that I was simply imprisoned for the last two months. It feels wrong to lie to her but I know it’s for her safety,” Russ answered.

“Good. Now hurry back to her,” Belinay urged, opening her shop door. “She’ll no doubt worry if you’re late getting back. We can talk more later.”

“Thank you, Bel.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Belinay watched Russ head back towards his house. She was glad he trusted her so blindly. It would make things easier for her over time. Once Russ was out of sight, she closed the shop door and locked the door. She had a busy day ahead of her.

~o~O~o~

Somehow life for Ismene and Russ managed to return to as normal as was possible. Oz, Nocturna and the other members of Noctis Arbitra left them alone, much to Ismene’s relief. Russ, of course, knew it was because it was now his job to report any dissent. Not that there ever was. Ismene didn’t actively complain about Oz, not after what happened. As he reported to Oz one day while on deliveries, Ismene was still very angry about the whole incident but she admitted she was wrong to have acted the way she had in the past. Russ assured Oz that he doubted Ismene would ever show him disrespect in public or actually do anything against him and Oz accepted this report.

Ismene wasn’t the only one who Russ had to lie to. One morning at the market, he ran into Nabal and naturally his friend had questions.

“Why-why-why were you so b-busy?” Nabal asked. “Every-every time every time I saw Ismene, she said you-you were out-out, you know, ffffor-fora-collecting stuff.”

“Yeah I’m sorry, Nabal,” Russ sighed. He had already thought of a lie in case he was asked why he had supposedly been busy. “We wanted to make sure we had enough willow bark and mushrooms, you know?”

Nabal nodded. He looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Do you w-want to go ffffish-fishing to-tomorrow? Now that-that you’re not busy?”

Russ remembered they had planned to hang out and fish before things had become complicated. He nodded, not considering if Ismene would mind. He figured she probably would want him to have some fun, he certainly needed it.

“Sure, I’m sure Izzy won’t mind,” he replied. “I’ll meet you there at our usual spot in the morning?”

Nabal nodded and departed to finish his own shopping, bidding Russ a farewell.

~o~O~o~

Just as Russ had expected, Ismene didn’t mind that he wanted to spend time with Nabal. He told Nabal as much as they set up their fishing lines. He didn’t tell Nabal why she was glad he wanted to get out of the house and do something normal. Nabal didn’t need to know about the whole ordeal with Noctis Arbitra.

The morning was cold and foggy, but the beach was quiet and it suited the two friends just fine. Russ cast out the first line, then turned to see Nabal still trying to get the bait on his hook. He smiled and offered his pole to Nabal.

“Here, I’ll get that for you,” he offered.

Nabal thanked him and traded fishing poles. As Russ easily affixed the bait to the hook, Nabal asked, “Is-Is everything okay, you know, betw-be-with you and Ismene?”

Russ handed back the fishing pole and took his own from Nabal. He was puzzled for a moment before he realized that Ismene had probably been irritable towards the others as she worried about him.

“Everything is fine,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nabal shrugged and cast out his line. “Just won-wondered… She seemed, you know, mad…”

“Well everything is fine,” Russ reassured.

A silence fell upon the beach as they waited for some fish to bite. Russ thought of a myriad of excuses for Ismene’s demeanor in his absence that wouldn’t undermine the secrecy they needed to maintain. Just as he settled on the most plausible excuse, Nabal spoke.

“I-I’m thinking of-of-of asking Rina out,” he stammered. “Like, officially.”

Russ stared out at his line. “Oh yeah?”

Nabal nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Russ smiled and nodded. Rina was another Naga in town, someone else who worked at the tavern with Nabal and Kallisto. Nabal had mentioned her before, how she was apparently very pretty, a thing that Russ privately didn’t understand but outwardly was supportive to Nabal about, and that the two of them often spent a lot of time together outside of work.

The comfortable silence resumed on the shore. Between the two of them, they caught a few fish and discussed various topics such as work and the changes in the rules since Oz assumed the mantle of Elder. As the two friends decided to call it a day, they heard a horn through the fog coming from across the waters. A ferry boat was departing Truce for Porre. It was a reminder of the world beyond their shores.

“You-you ever th-think the humans will ever stop hating us?” Nabal asked. “I know-know we t-talked ab-about it before…”

Russ shrugged. Deep down he felt like humans would always hate their kind. It felt like a certainty. Once, when they were much younger, he had shared Nabal’s views that maybe someday things could change but he knew better now. Not when Oz and Noctis Arbitra were intent on keeping humans out of Alastori.

“I don’t know,” sighed Russ as he began to pack up his belongings and the fish he had caught. He really didn’t want to discuss the subject. “They haven’t stopped yet.”

Nabal nodded and packed his own fishing pole and tackle box, as well as the one fish he had caught. He thanked Russ for coming out and hoped they could fish again before the weather became too cold.

Russ felt the same. He was about to suggest the next weekend when he suddenly remembered that it would be Demon King’s Night.

~o~O~o~

Two days before Demon King’s Night, Russ found a chance to ask Belinay what was expected of him. He felt a measured amount of relief when Belinay assured him that he could and should go to the ceremony and festival with Ismene as he had in years prior. She explained that only Nocturna was ever truly expected to be at the Elder’s side for the opening ceremony. The others opted to attend as masked agents, but she assured him he didn’t have to.

The night of the ceremony, Ismene and Russ stood in the back of the crowd. Ismene had made it a point to be further from the plaza for Russ’s sake, considering his pyrophobia. Even so, Russ found this year he wasn’t afraid. Maybe it was facing the fear through his training, but for the first time in his life, the large bonfire didn’t cause him any distress.

After the speech and the lighting of the bonfire, Russ and Ismene made their way towards the area selling food. The smells of spices and cooked meat filled the air as well as the scent of sweet treats like caramel apples and sweetened popped corn.

Ismene went straight towards the beer tent that had been set up by the tavern, declaring, “Let’s get some drinks. I know I need one.”

Russ followed. He had tried alcohol once or twice on festival nights but had never really enjoyed the taste or felt the need to seek it out. Still, Ismene kept assuring him he just had to find the ‘right stuff’ as she put it, but she also never pressured him to drink.

The two of them found the evening bartender, Kallisto, running the bar in the beer tent. A Naga like Ismene, Kallisto could be seen pouring a drink with her tail while passing out mugs of beer to her customers and taking their money. Between customers, Kallisto picked up a stein from under the counter and took a sip.

“Drinking on the job?” asked Ismene as she approached the counter.

Kallisto smirked and replied, “I’m sampling. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t sample my work,” Ismene replied. “What do you got?”

“Plenty of lambic beer. The raspberry is good as usual,” Kallisto answered. She looked over her kegs and listed the choices. “I also have some peach, black currant… cherry, blueberry… and strawberry. I have some hard cider but it’s on the dry side this season. I swear the orchard can never have a consistent stock.”

Russ had no idea what he wanted. He was curious about almost everything Kallisto had listed but he found himself unable to make a decision. He looked to Ismene for guidance. She readily ordered the hard cider and Russ knew he didn’t like dry alcohol.

Handing Ismene her drink, Kallisto looked at him. “What about you, Russ?”

“Uh… I don’t know,” Russ confessed. He shrugged and said, “What do you think?”

Kallisto looked thoughtful, almost pensive, for a moment before pouring a dark amber liquid into a glass. “Try the peach. This batch is a bit on the sweet side so you probably will like it.”

Ismene started to get out some coins to pay when Kallisto gestured for her to put her money away.

“No charge.”

Ismene looked surprised. “Seriously?”

“What? I can’t be generous for one night?” asked Kallisto with a grin. “Go enjoy your drinks and stop by if you want more.”

With a slight shrug and a thanks, Ismene took her cider while Russ picked up the glass that Kallisto poured for him. He thanked Kallisto and followed Ismene to get something to eat.

“No problem,” Kallisto replied. Russ couldn’t be sure but he thought she mumbled something else under her breath before sneaking a sip from her stein again.

On their way to a booth selling grilled fish, Ismene took a swig from her cider and glanced at Russ. She asked, “Aren’t you going to try your drink?”

Russ took a sip. The drink was fizzy and definitely tasted like peaches. It took a few sips but Russ found he liked the drink and he began to absentmindedly drink it as they walked.

“Don’t finish it before we get some food,” Ismene smirked. “We’ll have to go back to get more.”

Russ took another sip and said, “She did say we could get more if we wanted.”

Ismene smirked. It made her happy to see Russ enjoying himself even though she wasn’t a huge fan of the crowds or being anywhere remotely near Oz. She and Russ had been through a terrible ordeal and deserved a good time.

After getting something to eat, the two of them finished their drinks then watched some musicians play a few songs before getting some sweet treats and returning to the beer tent where Kallisto treated them to another round of drinks, insisting it was in the spirit of the holiday.

Between the good food and free drinks, Ismene and Russ found themselves having a good time. They were soon joined by Nabal and Rina as well as Iados and Nameia. Russ was grateful for everyone’s company. Even with what had happened, he found himself feeling really lucky to have friends and someone like Ismene in his life. Maybe it was just the beer helping him relax, but it almost felt like he and Ismene had never been through what they had in the last two months. 

Eventually, Ismene told him she was ready to go home. While Russ wanted to stay a bit longer, he knew that when Ismene was done socializing, she was done. Bidding farewell to everyone, Russ followed Ismene home as the festival fireworks had come to their finale.

As they walked home, Russ looked at Ismene and smiled. He glanced up at the starry night sky and said, “I know it sounds dumb, Izzy… but I’m glad we’re together… I’m really lucky to have you.”

Ismene smiled. She was glad that she had Russ. Having someone that understood her better than anyone else helped against the angry loneliness she had felt for years. She hoped that the incident with Noctis Arbitra and Oz was far behind them. All she wanted now was a peaceful and quiet life with Russ.

[deancasswitchbang]

A Love Like Iron

Author: Ethereal_Xen (@etherealxen​) Artist: Bees (@xiejie-liubo​) Archive Warnings: Referenced non-con (past), Dub-con/Sex under the influence of magic  Tags: Frotting, Anal sex, Hand Jobs, Fae Sex Magic, Cum as Lube, Hierarchical ownership magic (Not a/b/o), Not Fuck or Die but definitely adjacent, Dean's Afraid of Fairies, Case-fic, Canon-divergence - Avalon, come play, come eating

Summary: Men are going missing by the dozens and TFW are having no luck figuring out what it is until Dean and Cas see the first body being returned - But only Dean can see the person saying farewell to the corpse at her feet. In a panic of realisation he tries to get them to leave before things really get out of hand, or properly arm themselves to fight. But what will he do when he and Cas find themselves on the wrong end of an ambush and the angel at his side has disappeared? Preview: He had to get to Cas. The palace was quiet; the guards he had been so used to being at every turn nowhere to be seen. He trusted his feet to take him in the right direction on the smooth crystalline floor, letting his mind wander as he walked through the bright, colourful halls he made a mental note to ask Charlie about the Emerald City if she ever decided to come back from Oz. Oberon’s palace was formed in crystal of every colour and every shade and Dean could hardly imagine walking through a similar place so bland and colourless. “Crap…” He shook his head and mumbled under his breath, feeling the way the realm was already creeping into him and making him want to stay. To stop fighting the magic Oberon had placed inside him and simply return to his king. But Cas. He had to find Cas. ‘I bet his eyes are beautiful here,’ Dean stopped in his tracks as the thought hit him, and he hated himself a little more. That kind of thinking would lead him down a bad road and would land both himself and Cas as permanent residents. Shaking it off as best he could he continued down the halls until he reached his old chamber. Why his feet had taken him there he wasn’t sure, but there was a fae woman standing outside who merely opened the door and bowed him inside on his arrival. He didn’t like it. Where were the guards, the bloodshed? Why was he being waved through the chamber door as if he was almost royalty himself, not some runaway pet? He stepped inside regardless and looked around the room that had once been his own as Oberon’s favoured servant. Giant windows made of coloured glass shrouded the familiar room in muted colours from the moonlight outside. Everything was more-or-less how it had been when he left; walls made of dark wood and crystal and minimal shelving stacked with books and trinkets that Oberon had given him. The bed took up most of the room; its frame made of a similar dark wood to the walls, inlaid with sylvan metals in intricate designs. He found himself yearning to climb onto the bed where had spent so much time in bliss and pain, knowing just how comfortable it was and how perfectly it held his body. There was a problem though as he approached. The bed was already occupied, and the occupant took his breath away. Cas lay there, sprawled across the dark covers, stripped bare by the fae who had taken him and redressed. If you could call it that. Silver jewelry adorned him, engraved with blessings and spells. Thin and delicate sylvan head-dresses and ear cuffs. Necklaces and drapery down his chest, cuffs on his wrists and ankles and bangles around his thighs and biceps. He looked like a precious, treasured gift. The angel was panting and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, his eyes clenched shut as he struggled against the whims of his body.

POSTING BETWEEN APRIL 23rd AND MAY 6th, 2023!

[starlightshadowsworld]

"Sir? What about him?"

The tour guide paused, eyes searching the room for anything he'd missed. Before his gaze landed on the statue in the corner.

"He's another relic of the times, I'm afraid we know not much else." The guide lead the group to the next room, paying the being no heed.

He was an odd one that's for sure.

A remarkable show of craftsmanship but if the guide was honest, he unnerved them all.

The kids called him Mr Oz.

Mr Oz was tall, but it was hard to tell his true height as his head was slumped to the side.

Eyes shut to the world.

As if he was simply taking a nap.

Hands clasped a cane and the top hat he was wearing did little to hide his silver hair.

He was painted emerald green with a black waist coat and trousers.

As if he was poised for a show, a performance.

His face was split down the middle but no one knew how his mechanics worked.

Nor how he got here.

It was as if Mr Oz had always been here.

But that wasn't what unnerved them.

No it was how children reacted to him.

How they'd wander off, getting lost only to be returned to their parents.

Stating Mr Oz had helped him.

They spoke of tales of rabbits that sprung out of hats, of magic and spells.

All could be from their imagination of course.

But all, supposedly told to them by Mr Oz.

There were the creaks and rumours of someone haunting the castle turned museum.

Of sobs heard in the dead of night.

Rumours of a man singing a lullaby.

The kids said it was Mr Oz, that he was waiting for his children to come back home.

That lullaby he sung to them every storm, so wherever they were they wouldn't be scared.

Yes, he was an odd one.

[lothlorienlover]

Buster and Holly (2)

Buster and Holly (2/3)

Holly and I sat naked on the front porch swing until the full force of the fast moving storm front drove us back into the house. The white-blonde hair on her arms bristled at the sharp temperature change as did two very punctiliar nipples. Strange, as George Costanza had once commented to Jerry, how it had the exact opposite effect on my manhood! 

Twilight had quickly been captured by a black-as-coal sky. Foreboding storm clouds sailed their way across the fields of violently swaying corn. This far out of town, there were no other lights to be seen other than the one observed in the barnyard behind the house hanging at the end of a serpentine conduit pipe stapled to an old weathered telephone pole. It had one of those old corrugated tin top hats and it and it alone was the sole lighted sentinel for miles. 

“This doesn’t look good, Buster. Grab the storm lantern sitting on top of the drier while I grab a few things from upstairs and I’ll meet you at the back door.”

While I waited for Miss Nude Universe to return, I grabbed what was left of the lemonade out the fridge, drinking half of it, pouring the rest of it into the green aluminum glass as Holly raced back into the room.

“Come on! Just leave the house open. It can’t harm anything.”

The driving rain had begun to clink on any and every exposed metal object. The sheet metal roof on the house and both rust wagons sitting just outside the storm cellar door, each were voicing their displeasure as pea sized hail began to intermingle with the driving rain.

There was a sort of reverse Wizard of Oz coloration morph occurring after Holly sealed the door behind us and struck a match to light the old oil burning storm lantern. As Holly had earlier described, the storm cellar was big. In point of fact, it was a lot bigger than Holly had led me to imagine. I let out a slow whistle.

“You stay down here in the winter?” I asked, astonished by the consideration.

“What?”

“Well, I mean. . .” I hesitated to tell my hostess my true thoughts of her underground bungalow. 

“Ya? Go ahead say it.”

And I might have if a large and heavy crashing sound hadn’t suddenly startled both of us. Whatever it was, it had landed on the metal door, seemingly sealing our doom.

“Wait!” she shouted as I moved to try to open the door. “Wait until the storm passes!” 

I had heard of babies being ripped out of their mother’s arms and passengers sucked out of their cars as tornados passed over head. I gave weight to her alarm, turning back to her.

“I just hope we can get out at all,” I shouted as the storm raged outside.

“I just hope my house is still there!” she cried in sudden alarm.

“Is there another way out of here?” I continued to shout above the storm, peering into the black recesses of the cave like cellar.

“Wouldn’t be much of a storm cellar if there was. Duh!” 

Holly’s normal levity had temporarily abated as I saw real concern in her face.

“I suppose if we had to, we could try and dig around the stove pipe -if it ever came to that. I have a shovel down here as I got scared last winter when we had that heavy snow warning. And I probably would have gotten stuck down here if the winds hadn’t blown most of it away. So yes, I’ve thought about it. And no, there aren’t any quick ways out of here other than that door.”

As fast and all consuming as the roar of the storm had been, its passing equaled it in silence. I turned back to the door!”

“NO!” Holly screamed. “Sometimes there is a calm before the real storm hits. Where have you been all your life, Buster?”

Though I had spent the last twenty years in Whosville, I personally had never had the pleasure of encountering a tornado close up. For whatever reasons, the one or two a year visitors had always struck south of town, damaging crop but not home –at least to my knowledge. 

“Oh,” replied the Tin Man without a brain.

Eventually it dawned on me that Holly was still naked. She had white breasts with an equally white panty line, though I doubted she worn them that often.

“What?” she again enquired as I stood staring at her. “Whaaaat?” she demanded, hands now on hips, leaning forward a bit to give her demand bite.

“Nothing.”

“My ass!”

“Exactly,” I countered, smiling as the maneuver set her breasts asway.

Turning only her shoulders, Holly did a quick inventory of her behind, asking, “Do I have something on me?”

“No. I was just looking at your tan lines. I like tan lines. The more pronounced the better. . . . and you’ve got really great one’s.

“You think?” she asked, taken aback by my assessment. “Wait a minute, are you referring to tan lines or these?” she winked, pointing to her breasts.

“Oh ya, those too!” 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed but the silence outside the green door continued. With guarded permission I tried the door. It took both of us plus a bit of leverage from Holly’s shovel, before the door opened enough for me to work myself out. A large tree limb had, indeed, as I suspected, fallen across the door. Calling back down to Holly for advice, she told me to be careful but she thought there was an old logging saw in the shed next to the pump house. Asking me to wait a minute, she returned with an old extruded aluminum flashlight. It seemed everything about Holly’s heaven (except for those magnificent breasts) were either old or weathered –or both.

“WAIT!” I heard her shout as she tossed me my old blue-jean shorts. 

“Wouldn’t want you to injure anything important!” Her mischievous grin was becoming endearing to me.

It took me a good five minutes to rummage through the shed to find the old five foot two-man hand saw. Though rusted, the teeth looked straight and sharp. Another fifteen minutes was needed before I had enough of the heavy branch cut off to where I could actually push the rest of it off to one side. Holly swung the cellar door open, laughing at me as she held the storm lantern aloft.

“Aren’t you the sight?”

Covered with sawdust, dirt and a few stick-to-your-naked-skin leaves, I grimaced, asking if there was an outside hose or something to rinse off with.

“Turn your light over on to the house.” 

Holly grabbed hold of the flashlight, directing toward the house surveying for damage. The tree limb had come from old man willow that sat ten, maybe fifteen feet to the left of the cellar door. The trucks remained where they had been parked though there was a crack in my windshield –of course- and multiple hail marks on both cabs and hoods. One good thing about driving rambling wrecks, one didn’t have to give second thought to minor things like dents. All it gained was a little more character and yet another story to be told.

It seemed that the house was another matter. There were only three windows in the westward facing side of the house. All three were missing glass. The screen door had been nearly ripped from its hinges. However, from initial inventorying, at least the sheet metal roof looked in tack. 

“I’ve got some cardboard stored away in the house,” she offered, “I suppose we could cut it to size and stuff them in the windows for now. The door was in need of new hinges anyway. I’ve got some in the shed. We can work on that in morning. I don’t see much else. Do you? When I heard that limb hit the door, honestly, I was scared that it was one of the trucks.” I watched as the lithe blonde bomb shell of a woman grow all stiff before a shiver rattled her shoulders and her head give a brief shake. “I don’t get scared easy. But then, I’m not ready to die a long slow death being buried alive in my own storm cellar.”

Holly disappeared back down into the cellar. Throwing out my still soaked t-shirt and underpants, she stepped out while in the process of pulling up the elastic bodice of a dingy yellow sundress, struggling to get it up over her boobs.

“The hose is over there if we haven’t lost electricity. But,” she held up a finger, “let me run some water into a pan first –AND BE CAREFUL OF THE GLASS!!!”

Reaching inside the kitchen door, Holly tried the light switch to no avail. 

“Just as I suspected. No power. Just a minute then you can rinse off.”

I didn’t want to remind her about the cistern filled with water down in the storm cellar. Sometimes you just have to allow a woman to be busy. 

Before I sought out the hose that had supposedly been snaked through the white limestone foundation of the house only to hide somewhere in the unmowed grass, I retrieved a dry t-shirt and pair of old stop-by-the-riverside-to-fish tennis shoes stuffed behind the seat of my truck.

“That’s a pretty handy device,” I commented about the cut glass, crystal chimney storm lantern as I looked in the back door to see if she had finished her task. 

“It was my grandmothers. She had two of them. Don’t ask where the other one went. Ya, I’ve had to use it more than once when we lose power way out here. Hopefully it’ll be back on before sunrise. They’re pretty good about taking care of the old farms especially ones as big as Thompson’s centennial farm. Have you ever been back there?”

I confessed I had not which didn’t surprise her. She whistled a slow whistle.

“I’ll have to drive you back over there tomorrow. Quite the place. They know my truck but the dogs still chase it all the way up to the house. I suppose it would only be right to check in on them anyway. I’ll introduce you. Fred, once you get past his gruff side, is a pretty decent guy. Hallelujah!” Holly prayed as the kitchen light flickered on. 

I had begun to accept the fact that I was going to spend a miserable evening coated in unwashed sweat and grim, thinking how it would taint any hoped for after-intermission activities. Silently I rejoiced along with my hostess that the favor of electricity had been so quickly restored to us.

Holly shut off the kitchen water which had steadily increased in power. Somewhere out in the dark I could hear an old pump (because everything was old in Holly’s heaven) laboring to catch up. Flipping the second light switch next to the kitchen door, Holly swore before it ever had a chance to energize the line. “Shit! I’ll have to get the ladder out to change the bulb. Oh well, guess we’ll have to wait till morning light to see what the damage is out there.  Be a dear and shove the wood in the hole.  No need to lock it.” 

I followed Holly’s commanded, closing the five panel wooden door while turning out the kitchen light. I wondered whether or not this was the first time this summer it had been closed. Almost by habit, I went to lock it when I realize there wasn’t any. “Ya gotta love country live’n” I quipped to myself. Quickly I turned back to the quickly fading light that had disappeared up the stairs after closing the front door.

Though it had been no more than three or four hours since Holly and I raced naked into the storm cellar, now it seemed an eternity. That sexual animal within me was slumbering now as I traipsed up the stairs, trying to keep up with the yellow light. It had been an emotionally packed day. Tiredness began to lay on me and all I could think about was laying in my own bed, with my own pillow, rolling over and slipping back into dreamland.  As I proceeded to the sound of running water, it seemed I was already in the midst of a dream.

I stopped near the top step when everything went dark.  As my eyes adjusted, I spied a darker than amber slit beneath what I reasoned to be the upstairs bathroom door which at that moment sprung open as Holly popped out and asked, “What are you standing there for?” The naked woman floated across the hardwood floor hallway, disappearing from my sight once more.

This time she had not closed the door to the room she had disappeared into. There was enough light now for me make it down the hallway without stumbling into something. Holly popped back into the hall, once again standing in front me naked as the day she was born, asking, “Wanna take a bath?” Without waiting for my answer, the smoking lantern led us together into the room sounding of running water.

Peeking in the bathroom door as unintrusively as I had her bedroom door, I found the sole treasure of the house. Coupled with a large and of course old, square pedestal sink with a wide rim standing to my right, a toilet to its left, I whistled at the sight of the large claw-footed tub spread end-to-end across the far wall. I’d never seen its like before.

“Come on! Get those dirty shorts off and get in here with me,” Holly beckoned as she toe tested the water before stepping in, sitting down and sliding beneath the water, re- emerging a second later, pasting her hair back off her face with both hands, sputtering off the water that ran down her face.

The tub had its faucets and drain handles stationed above it and centered on the back wall, allowing two people to slide in comfortably opposite of one another. Stepping in behind her and slowly sliding down and leaning back myself, the water level still had a good three inches before cresting. 

Holly had rested the smoking chimney lamp atop a dual pedestal flower stand at her end of the tub. Of course it was no longer needed with the power restored yet its yellowish light maneuvered everything into a mystical world. A small multi-band transistor radio sat beneath it. At my end of the tub was a small brass tubed affair with two towels, two face cloths and one soap dish. It almost looked homemade. 

“This is my sanctuary,” Holly’s voice reverberated in the otherwise empty room. 

White-washed bead board lined the room with a small blue fuzzy rug in front of the toilet and a five by three rag braided rug in front of the tub. 

“This is where I sit and sing or just enjoy the quiet of the countryside.” 

The outer wall faced south. In the center of it between tub and toilet was a four by eight, double hung wooden window that had been spared the pounding its brothers had fallen victim of in the room just next door. It was thankfully screened, half open at the bottom, half open at the top. 

“You’re the first, Buster!”

“The first what?”

“The first man I let in here. The first man I let upstairs. Does that surprise you?”

I had to be honest with her, “Ya, a little.”

“My reputation always precedes me,” she sighed. “Oh well, I guess it’s just my lot in life. But it’s true. I’ve never brought anyone home after stay’n out all night. ‘Bout the only time anyone has been here at the house is when my parents died and my sister came to sit a spell after the funeral. Her husband was all itchy. They didn’t stay long. She didn’t say much of anything but then she didn’t have to. Her eyes said it for her, looking all about the house with a sad look on her face as if she couldn’t fathom how her big sister had failed so miserably in life, feeling sorry for me and all. We’re sort of opposite books ends that way. I was the run around tramp while she floated above everything and stayed out of sight. She paid her way through junior college where she met Ty, a middle line backer who got wooed by SU, making first string his second year there. I think he said he was a red something or other senior.”

“A red shirt senior?” I questioned.

“Ya, I think that’s it. Then he got drafted two hundred twenty-third by one of the teams out in California. They only pick two hundred and twenty four players.  He was proud that he had lasted long enough to remain on the team.  He played four years before getting hurt. But by then he had made his money. Sis and Ty aren’t hurt’n. She showed me the pictures of their place in San Diego. Never been there. Not my cup of tea to be around all that money. It all just sort of makes me feel small and insignificant. Ty got a job at one of the large housing developers out there. Makes more money now than he did playing football. Anyway, it was all too easy to tell they didn’t much like my house. I haven’t made up my mind whether you do or not.”

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to keep my rising periscope from popping to the surface while taking extreme enjoyment out of watching the wave action caused by Holly’s buoyant breasts rising and falling with each breath stop. “Well, if you want my honest assessment it could do with a little work. But it’s definitely something I could get use to. That is, I mean living in a place way out here and all. But admittedly, not having a handy convenience store nearby might take a little getting use to.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“You know.”

Laughing in feign innocence, “No I don’t!”

“I can see you waving those arms under water, making my boobs float up and down.”

“Who me?”

Holly’s big right toe slid to nudge my, now fully erect, manhood. Reflex popped the periscope above water level briefly before submerging again. Holly sat up, leaned forward while sliding her hands and elbows along the outer edges of the tubs slippery white baked enamel finish, kissing me lightly as I closed my eyes and once again drank in the fantasy. 

Raising herself up she promised me, “You never have to just look and hope with me, Buster. If you ever walk in that back door again after tonight, and you see me washing dishing at the sink dressed in that old sundress, you just lift it up and spread my legs! You don’t ever have to worry about me making a fuss or throwing dishes at you.” With that said, Holly leaned forward and offered her creamy white wet breasts for me to feed on. 

I was beginning to wonder if we would ever have sex out of the water. Sitting back a bit, Holly nimbly impaled herself on my manly weapon, kissing me as she took all of it after a few up’s and down’s. Offering her breasts for my mouth to feed on, she rose just enough for me to feel myself about to slip out before she impaled herself again over and over till my face told her I was about to come.

“Whoa there big boy!” she smiled as she sat up while remaining firmly seated on bent knees and slowly undulating hips. Reaching back across me to grab a bar of soap and one of those faded pink face cloths, she spoke quietly to me. “Holly’s going to get you all cleaned up and then she’s going to take you in the other room and give you the ride of your life. Think you can handle that cowboy?”

From my experience I had never met two more different people than Martha and Holly. Martha was all but flat chested, frigid –well at least where it had involved me, a wench who’s eyes and mouth never closed. She had a lipless cunt with only a sheen of hair. Holly on the other hand, actually had lovely and readily accessible large, sculptured breasts. She closed her eyes when she kissed. Her cunt was long lipped and her pubic hair was incredibly long, thick and I loved rummaging my fingers through it.. Obviously she hadn’t been to the public pool that summer or I would have read about it in the town paper after hearing everyone else’s ‘I was there’ account of it at the local watering hole after work. Holly just had a way about her, moving her body in feminine ways, that attracted men’s eyes and women’s scorn. Truly, she was a polarizing force. Either you loved her or you hated her. I definitely was not nor ever had been part of the latter group.  I had been indifferent in school.  But now that pimple faced girl had grown into a woman . 

First the arms, then the under arms, she soaped and scrubbed me while remaining impaled on my war baton. Then she proceeded to have me sit up as she wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder, lazily wiping off all traces of grime and grit from my back. She sort of went all soft on me there. In a dreamy, far off voice that barely reverberated in that still-of-the-night room, she murmured on about having given up; about having lost all hope of finding someone who would just accept her for who she was not what everyone thought she was.  She hoped beyond hope that I wasn’t playing her just for a couple of fucks. The strong self-sufficient woman began to let me see a little of that sad, lonely girl hiding all her life on the inside.

I had never sat in a tub of water with a naked woman before, especially with one who had lathered my chest (before letting me lather hers) in transfixed fascination, pressing her soft breasts against me as she held on to me as if I were a dream about to shake her awake. The experience was incomparable to any I had ever had before. With each breath, hers and mine, sometimes together, sometimes purposefully different, I lost myself in the sensation of those soothing hands and slithering mounds of flesh washing across my hairy shore. 

Holly’s nipples were a dark pink, almost an amber-rose color in hue. They were remained amazingly thick and elongated, even in their unexcited state. But being permitted to suck on them at length in that ivory tub, washed by the light of that wick-turned-down lamp, I was granted evidence that it wasn’t only men who got erections when excited. The sensation of my nibbles and bites curved her back and made her hips move from side to side while her arms would occasionally smother me before her hands found their way to the side of my face, drawing me up into an awaiting kiss. Rushing everywhere hither and dither, her eyes searched out my soul as she leaned back to stare at my face.

Eventually Holly made good on her promise. With neither of us being completely toweled dry, we moved across the hall to her bedroom. A cool breeze poured in through the two westward facing windows now shattered and laying on the floor. Her bed’s headboard rested against the hall-side wall, clothed in only a top and bottom sheet and two fluffy feather pillows. A chest of four drawers sat against the same wall but on the other side of the bed while a large dark armoire, running full width of the eastern wall, sat just inside the door. How anyone ever got that up those stairs and maneuvered into that room, I would never find out.

Unlike all the other rooms of the house, this one had wall-to-wall carpeting. It was deep pile and a luxury to walk on. It was also clean and smelling as if only recently installed. And there she knelt, having pushed me back onto the cool crisp sheets of her bed, spreading my legs, resting on elbows and knees, she circled the base of my cock with thumbs and fore fingers. It was evident to even a neophyte like myself, that the woman had done this before. It seemed she liked it. “Eat your heart out Jimmy!” I opined. This is what half the men in town had dreamed of, hoped for and lied about. And yet by some strange twist of fate, it was I, wall-flower Buster, who now, laying on her bed, had her mouth blowing warm breaths across my cock. I wondered if Don’s Mexican heart-throb served him half so well!

There was no rush in her manner though the night was late and most of our energy had already been expended. I doubted whether it was ever with me in mind, but then again, neither did I doubt that here was a woman who truly loved having a man’s cock dancing in her mouth.

Now I’m no circus big man. Holly is five-two in flats, if ever you saw her in them. Her torso was slender yet well toned, almost muscular in calves and biceps. Me? I was maybe six or seven inches taller. Nor would anyone mistake me for an athlete. Yet from lack of home cooked meals and hard work, I wasn’t carrying any noticeable extra poundage. The one thing I did have that wasn’t average, was a cock inherited from my father’s side of the family —to hear my mother tell it. 

My estranged father had died some years before my graduation from high school, a smoker and drinker who supposedly succumbed to natural causes. I had come along late in my parent’s lives, the unexpected solitary child arriving years after having given up trying to have one. When my mom grew more and more despondent as her life ebbed from her, she had from time to time reminisced, as senile people oft times do, giving a nod of the head, making sure I was paying attention before smiling and shocking me with a, ‘and let me tell you, your father was no slouch in bed either!’ describing him, in my words not hers, ‘bigger than your average bear!’ Such things which children never want to hear from their parents.

So maybe all that gave an account for Holly’s seemingly lost attention to that which she held in her hands. Twirling it at the base, Holly slowly sucked the head into her mouth. I imagined her as a pimply-faced, dermatological disaster young girl seemingly always sucking way at a Tootsie Roll Pop with its advertised hidden creamy center, mischievous smile and all. I laid back, lost in yet another sensation which I had never known before. I had r*aped my wife but never had it entered my mind to totally dominate her. Perhaps that was what Martha needed –a strong man who would so totally dominate her so as to separate her from her mother’s wagging tongue. I had been too polite, too forgiving, too much the lesser man. But as I lay there, knowing now what it was like having a woman who wanted all of me, I knew I would now never again settle for anything less. Slowly I wandered off into the night as my hostess served me a large dish of delight.

“GAWD!” she cried, half laughing, half embarrassed, gagging on my creamy surprise. I felt it coming but chose to just lay there, drinking up every nerve sensation from her warm wet mouth. A long slumbering volcano continued to ooze its river of thick cream as I sat up to watch her surprise. Holly sat back on her heels, slowly massaging the wide-eyed wonder as it pooled on top of her hand. Unhurried, she leaned back down to finish the task. Wiping her mouth, giggling a young girl’s contentment, she asked, “Kiss me now?”

[nobody-for-sure]

Language Barrier

Fixed the pronoun issue whoops- lmk if you guys see something because this shit’s not beta’d.

Chapter 12

(~2.4k words, see chapter list here)

You wake up in a cold sweat.

Something tingles in the back of your mind. Is it a dream, or a memory? Whatever it is, you have a feeling it's important.

You try to grasp it, but it slips through your fingers like sand when you chase it, the waking world unapologetically whisking your thoughts away from you. It leaves you feeling empty and uncertain, with a sense of foreboding you can't explain. What was it? What was it?

Your first night in Teyvat had been dreamless, and now you wished you could say the same of the second. Unpleasantly abstract thoughts swirl in your brain. You want for answers no one has, and it's an ill feeling.

And yet, oddly, amidst the turmoil of doubt, one thought remains clear. Somehow, you're more certain of it than ever: you need to get to Liyue. If not the solutions to your problems, at least the answers to some of your questions may be found there.

The Knights' dormitories are surprisingly comfortable, distressing personal issues aside. They're also more luxurious than you expected. You were given a room to spend the night in before you and your team set out, since it was well after dark when you returned from the tavern. It's a single: fully decked out in furnishings, but lacking any personal belongings implying it belonged to someone else, which makes you think it's a standard-issue room. It's certainly nicer than any other dormitories you've seen, if so. Now more than ever, you're able to recognize the value of personal privacy.

You've also been given a few sets of new clothes, for which you're relieved. Yours were starting to look a little worse for wear, so you select the style most appealing to you and put it on. You look a bit like an NPC now, but you don't mind. You prefer this to some fancy, over-the-top godly robes any day.

Breakfast is delicious. You know Noelle's outdone herself for the occasion, because she serves up berry pancakes, bacon, eggs, and traditional Mondstadt hash browns like there's no tomorrow. If you weren't joined by her and a very tired Amber, you'd have certainly spent the whole day eating. As it is, it's past the time you imagined setting out when the three of you make it to the city gate.

Fischl and Oz are already there when you arrive, and Fischl's eyes twinkle when she takes notice of your arrival. "Qxgn! Eh knz kigxm lu knz tcgj, xoknz jkskkzyk kigxm jtg xoknz katozkx yjtkiykj tuva ya kitkn. Juum ymtojoz uz rrg tu yonz jkyykrh txus!"

"Toks tokragxl yknyoc aue rrg g juum mtotxus," Oz substitutes, as you look around. Supposedly, you were all supposed to meet up here before you left... but, perhaps unsurprisingly, the last member of your team has yet to show.

Noelle gives Fischl and Oz a smile, and Amber manages a wave before she heads straight to the wall, drops her bag, and slides to the ground with a yawn. "Kqgc ks tknc kn yzkm kxkn," she murmurs, burying her head in her knees.

Everyone glances at her in concern. "Es rgeur zikphay, joj knz ykxgs lu knz znmot kxgj uz cgxj nzxul to knz yykrjtauh exzykvgz lu yyktqxgj?" Fischl inquires.

"Joj knz ggnc...?" Amber slurs, her voice muffled. "Ut- o ygc uuz jkzoidk uz vkkry. O ztjoj ztgc uz zkr xoknz kigxm tcuj-" she gestures vaguely in your direction without looking up- "uy o ztkvy knz krunc znmot mtoquur zg yvgs jtg mtonixgkykx ykaeor togxxkz jtg jkjtk va mtorrgl vkkryg to knz exgxhor. Tg xkjoxzau ygn uz kh jkxgvkxv xul mtonzetg, aue cutq!" She puncutates her speech with another large yawn, and the rest of you look at each other.

Fischl clears her throat. "Exkb rrkc. O rrgny zosxkv kknz g lkoxh kzovykx rozta xau jxgcegc tuotgvsui ykqgs lrkyson tcutq." Amber gives a thumbs up without lifting her head, and Noelle gives you a smile, assuring you there's nothing to worry about.

In a few minutes, the outrider is snoozing away on the grass. You don't really mind - she's looked like was seconds away from dozing off since she first showed up for breakfast, and you don't want her to collapse on the road. Since Bennett's not here yet anyway, she might as well take the opportunity to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Under different circumstances, you might join her. Unfortunately, last night's episode was not one you were eager to repeat. As it is, a feeling you can't put a name to washes over you whenever you think back on your dream. You settle for leaning against the stone wall and idly plucking blades of grass.

'A few more minutes' begins to drag on, and it's no longer Amber you're the most concerned for. Fischl taps her foot, and Noelle surveys the area, searching for any sign of the unlucky adventurer. "Uj aue qtonz khegs kn rrozy ztygn tkquc va xkzlg mtoztogl egjxkzyke?" the maid asks.

"So jogxlg zut. Toks tokragxl jtg o jogv knz currkl g zoyob zygr znmot tknc kn ygc va jtg zauhg togmg, uz kxayyg son kn jgn zut jksgkxj knz krunc mtonz," Oz answers.

"Tknz..."

Fischl huffs. "Es kmag xkj mtarokzxaxkb yqgkvy lu tg rro-jkxxgzy kzgl, ktu ut yykr xgorosgl tgnz knz jkzgkn kfgm lu knz egjjos tay jtg ut kxus ztgygkrv. Ygrg, zo kitu togmg yrrgl uz enz toyykftoxv uz kbkoxzkx son." Noelle gives her a nod, and the princess and her raven turn to walk away. You bolt up. Is she going to search for Bennett, perhaps? If so, you'd rather join her than sit around waiting.

"Xaue kigxm, aue ztjkkt exxuc lrkyxaue." Noelle tries to placate you as you start moving. "Kny jtg fu rroc kh qigh erzxuny nzoc zzkttkh, so kxay." She gestures generously to the ground, as if asking you to sit.

You pause, shake your head, and then point to her. You unfold a second finger to point to both your eyes, before moving your fingers to Amber. You look after her. Then you point to yourself, then Fischl, and back into the heart of the town. We'll go.

The maid nods, looking somewhat reluctant. Fischl, on the other hand, seems rather pleased. "Tkbk ytmokxkbuy zyas tmokj uz kxaztkb uzta knz yyktqxgj, kyockyrk kc kqgyxul rrg zgnz yo krhut jtg zyap," she declares confidently. She turns and strides off, and since she doesn't seem like she's going to stop you, you follow.

Though you don't remember them being that far apart, the walk to the Adventurers' Guild is significantly shorter (and contains thankfully fewer stairs) than that of the knights' headquarters. No one's standing outside when you arrive, but you can hear raucous sounds from within. You catch a few snippets of conversation as you approach, and it sounds like a banter of sorts.

"...ztgi erhoyyuv..."

"...zah o ygc tkyuni..."

"...g kigxmyoj..."

Then a booming voice echoes out. "Yzgnz zut xul etg lu aue uz kjoikj. Uj aue tgks uz tuozykaw xoknz ykigxm tuoyoikj?" It's loud and decisive, and your gait stutters for a moment. Who was that?

Fischl narrows her visible eye, and her expression tightens into one of barely concealed displeasure as she clicks her tongue. "Ygrg, nyoruul ykbgtq rrozy cutq zut tknc uz jrun xoknz ykamtuz." Without pretense, she pushes the double doors open wide and marches into the building. "Zgnc xkttgs lu ezosgrgi ykxgj uz togzkj enz ytoyykftoxv kxazxgvkj? Kqgz jkkn, xul g zlocy rgyxkbkx lu kzgl egs kh jkqubto nzoc enz xkcytg," you hear her announce.

"G rgyxkbkx lu kzgl?" someone responds with amusement, as you hurry up the stairs behind her. "Lo aue kbgn zgnz jtoq lu xkcuv, jaue xkzzkh kya zo tu son. Kyocxknzu, xaue ektxaup nzoc... xaue... kigxm..." The voice trails off as you step over the threshold, and every eye in the room turns your way.

The silence is deafening. Your eyes sweep the scene. It's clearly a gathering space, with several tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. Message boards are plastered to the walls in several places, some more heavily filled than others. One end of the room has a platform... a stage? For announcements, perhaps? Or poetry nights? You'll never know.

You draw your attention to the frozen altercation in the middle of the hall. Several young men in adventurer's uniforms are clustered around a table, looking fairly pale in the face at the sight of you. They all look vaguely familiar, but you can't put a name to any of them, at least off the top of your head. You think one of them is... Robby? Roy? Well, not important. A short distance away, Cyrus stands with his arms crossed at them, though his stern expression is slowly caving in favor of shock and awe at your presence. Fischl faces the scene with her hands planted on her hips, the only one not to turn when you walked in.

And, in the middle of it all, a very dispirited Bennett shuffles his feet and looks at the ground.

Ah. So that's how it is.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on here. From the look on Fischl's face a few moments ago, it's hardly a rare occurance, either. You purse your lips tightly... and yet, there's only so much you can do. Mentally, you curse your helplessness. What good is being a god if I can't defend even one person?

You narrow your eyes at the group of young adventurers, coupling it with a tip of your chin for a proper disdainful glance. You can't say anything, but you don't need to. They turn even paler from just a look, and Robby looks on the verge of fainting when you start to move forward again. You exchange glances with Fischl as you pass. Her expression tells you you're right on the money, along with some thinly veiled pleasure at the reaction your entrance has caused. You can't blame her. If you weren't so angry, you'd be feeling very badass right now.

With measured steps, you approach Bennett. When he looks up, you push your negative feelings away. Then you hold out a hand and offer him the biggest smile you can muster. "Let's go."

His eyes widen. For a long moment, he stares at you, but you don't waver. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out to place his hand in yours, looking dazed. Dimly, the vision on his hip pulses as you give him a nod. Without further ado, you turn to leave.

The three of you (plus Oz) march silently out of the building, not bothering to close the doors behind you. Bennett stumbles on one of the stairs, but manages to catch himself before sending you both faceplanting. When you're several paces away from the guild hall, he pulls his hand from yours and gives you a deep and earnest bow. "Thank you, xaue kigxm," he says. "Rro uj es zykh uz kbuxv lrkyes enzxuc lu xaue nzogl to me."

You blink a few times in surprise before beaming. "No, thank you."

With your whole party gathered, you can finally set out. Fischl and Noelle take the lead, while a refreshed post-nap Amber hangs back with you and Bennett, seemingly putting the two of you through the same comprehension test you took with Diluc. The results are the same, too.

Is this a point in favor of your friendship level theory? Only recently had you finally pulled Bennett for the first time (why were four star characters so hard to get?), so he was still sitting at friendship level one in-game. But something had definitely happened back at the guild. Is it possible to raise your friendship levels without access to the game mechanics?

Surely it must be. If nothing else, the traveler's journey has taught you that friendships can transcend even worlds.

The thought buoys you. I was actually right about something! Your companions seem equally enthused (if not a tad confused) by this fortuitous turn of events, and there's a bounce in everyone's step as the party travels the winding path through the country.

The rest of your day is largely uneventful. After such an exciting morning, you're almost disappointed. You meet with no treasure hoarders or members of the Abyss Order, and no one is injured in any way, though Bennett does take a tumble into a ditch and come out covered in mud at one point. Dusk approaches as you pass the Dawn Winery, and when the road meets with the river, the group stops to eat dinner and set up camp for the night.

You're glad you took personality and compatibility into account when selecting a team, because conversation is free-flowing all the while. The cheerful voices and good-natured laughter do much to set you at ease. Even Fischl seems to have loosened up a bit, because Oz interjects to translate with less frequency. Though you understand little, you're swept up in the mood as well, and for a while, your questions and troubles are all but forgotten.

As the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky, Amber takes a stick and makes a rough sketch of a map in the dirt by the fire. "Suxl es nixgkykx, ycuxxusuz togxxkz jrauny kh erxogl eygk uz kzgmobgt. Kbkc zum g zoh lu tg rronva qkxz jtauxg egjjos, zah kxkc erzyus mtorkbgxz tu zgrl nyxgs yjtgr rozta kc nigkx anymtgc tto." She circles a spot before looking to the others. "Yzo zut kzoaw knz egclrgn ztouv tkkczkh kxkn jtg knz xuhxgn, zah o qtonz zo jrauc kh g juum kigrv uz vuzy jtg zykx kxulkh xau zygr mkr. Zgnc uj aue qtonz?"

Noelle nods, and Bennett breaks from trying to scrape a coat of dried mud off his shoes to give her a thumbs up. "Yjtauy juum uz me!"

"O xaitui," Fischl says. "Xoknz ktoboj kitktosk jrauc erkxay ruzdk tg ezotazxuvvu uz qygh to knz yauxkjtuc kxazikzonixg lu niay tg jkrkrrgxgvta ztksnyorhgzyk, jtg enz toyykftoxv jrauc kh zyus jkygkrv uz kqgz xkn ysgkxj yxuujto rgnzoc."

"Toks tokragxl yo to ztkskkxmg," Oz adds.

"Anymtgc tto zo yo!" Amber says decisively. To you, she taps the circled part of the map before holding her arms above her head like a roof. She tilts her head and places her hands underneath like a pillow. You grin. There's only one building to sleep in on that area of the map.

You've always wanted to try almond tofu.

[irish-trash-cash]

Oh mt GOD I need more of Oz and Nell just fucking there brains out

No Release

The Batman (2022) Oz Cobblepot x OC/Reader

Word Count: 2,300

Thank you for asking me to write more! Once again this is absolutely shameless smut. No plot- a few paragraphs and they’re fucking. I’m not sorry, I just want to ruin this old man’s life.

I’ve been rewatching The Sopranos and James Gandolfini is making me think filthy things about Oz.

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language.

-

“We’ll just be real quiet about it when Carmine’s around.” Oz’s words echo in Nell’s head.

Yeah, real fucking quiet.

Oz was seated across from them in a leather armchair, and Nell was incredibly distracted by the sound of his ring tapping his whisky glass as he did his damnedest to give them his best fuck-me eyes.

In the middle of a meeting with the aforementioned Carmine.

Nell was tense, to say the least. It was taking everything in her not to check Oz out. He was dressed pretty casually- a white button down and navy slacks, paired with his usual suspenders and a colorful tie. He takes a moment to cuff his sleeves- and Nell’s eyes trail to the flex of his hands and the glint of his Rolex as he rolls the material up his forearms.

Their gazes meet again and he smiles- Oz knows exactly what he’s doing.

They hadn’t been… intimate since that night in his office- they’d hardly had time for one another. Sure, Nell had been around him every day while they were on the clock, but they’d taken enough of a risk fucking in his office during operating hours, and it wasn’t like they had much time in private. A fact that was beginning to drive Nell up a wall.

Their frustration wasn’t going unnoticed- Oz had seen the tension in them all week and he loved it. He’d gone out of his way to touch them however he could- simply because he could- and the effect he had on them was a sight to behold. The way they’d lean toward him and sigh as he runs a hand over the small of their back- Nell’s suit separating them too much to enjoy it- pulling him in close for a kiss before leaving the Lounge in the early morning and returning to their respective apartments.

Nell does their best not to blush as Oz stares them down- they don’t even register what Carmine is saying- the only thing on their mind is how quickly the meeting will be over with so they can get Oz alone. It had been a while since Nell had been serious with anyone- and they realized after a few days that their imagination was not enough to sate them. They wanted Oz- his hands, his mouth, his words- fuck. They can feel themself throb at the thought of leaving the meeting- following him back to the Maserati and pulling him into the backseat. It was pouring rain and late at night, surely no one would know if he just bent them over and-

“Have a good night, Carmine.” Oz’s words bring Nell back to reality as he stands, and Nell obediently follows, nodding at their shared boss and finally turning to the door. She feels warm, and she thanks god that her collared shirt hides the lingering bruises along her neck.

The tension between them is palpable as Nell follows Oz down the hall. It’s a Wednesday night and there’s no chance the Lounge will have any visitors. So Nell once again decides fuck it and reaches forward, wrapping a hand around Oz’s arm and pulling him hard to the left. He protests of course, but Nell silences him with a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates- teeth clashing as they throw open the door to one of the Club’s private rooms and back inside.

Oz knows exactly what her intentions are, and he closes the door behind them as Nell grabs him by the tie, pulling him closer. He makes quick work of her jacket- thankful that she wasn’t wearing a side arm tonight- and tosses it to the floor while she makes quick work of her belt.

“You’re that fucking needy, huh Doll?” Oz practically sneers, lips brushing against hers as deft hands grab at the buttons of her shirt. If any other man had treated them this way- getting handsy- speaking to them so filthily- Nell would have knocked his lights out. But coming from Oz? It was so enticing. Nell feels themself flush as he just manhandles them, backing them into the pool table at the center of the room, and Nell doesn’t resist as he grabs them by the collar and bends them over it.

At that point Nell realizes neither of them had turned the lights on and they bury their head in their arms to stifle a moan as Oz’s hands find their way under their shirt, trailing down their waist and giving a squeeze. The sound of the rain outside is loud enough to mask any noises they might make, but Nell doesn’t trust themself to stay silent, especially when the Lounge adjacent is completely empty.

But Nell curses as Oz’s hands move to their waistband, tugging their pants down their hips and smoothing rough hands over the bare skin. Nell wishes she could see him, but the darkness was making it so much more arousing- and it takes everything in them not to moan as he presses rough fingers into their thighs.

“Alright, Sweetheart. Let Oz take care of ya’.” He mutters, breath ghosting over them. Nell realizes he’s dropped to his knees behind them, and they arch into his touch as he squeezes their thighs and spreads, revealing them to him in the dark. “Just try to be quiet for me, okay?”

Nell wonders if they’re dreaming as Oz leans forward and pushes his hot tongue into the apex of their thighs- lapping at them in long, slow strokes- and Nell whimpers, hand coming up to cover their mouth as he hums contentedly, the vibrations shooting straight through them. Nell can’t help but let out a gasp as he sucks hard, right there-

He pulls away for a second, and Nell can’t help but push their hips back into him.

“I told you to be fucking quiet, Nellie.” Oz scolds her, and Nell feels herself flush as he spits on it before tasting her again, tongue dipping into her center as he brings a hand up to tease in hard circles. It felt so fucking good it hurt, and Nell nearly chokes as Oz moans into her, flattening his tongue to spread her out. His hands move up their legs, hooking inside and spreading them wider. Nell stifles a sob as Oz buries his face into it from behind while they’re braced against the table, thighs shaking. Their breath catches and they’re almost-

“Oz, I’m gonna come- I-” Nell whines, but goddamn him- Oz pulls away again, and Nell squirms in near-distress at the absence of his warm mouth. They’re so fucking wet they can feel it drip down their thighs, and they’re relieved when Oz stands up and runs a forefinger through the slick, spreading it over them.

“Oh Honey, you’re such a slut.” Oz chastises, just caressing her for a second before giving it a slap. The sound echoes obscenely, and Nell lets out a sob as he pushes two thick fingers into her with ease, alleviating the growing pressure in her core. He can’t get enough of the way she sighs below him as he breaks her in, and Nell realizes that they can feel his gold ring nearly enter them with each movement. Their hand covers their mouth again, in an attempt to muffle the moans they spill as he scissors them open- the sound of their arousal filling the room when he hooks his fingers just right.

That’s when Nell hears something from the hall outside.

Nell makes a move to stand- they know the door doesn’t lock so they’re acting on instinct, but Oz reacts faster, placing his hands on their hips and pushing them face-down onto the pool table, pinning them in place.

Every instinct is telling Nell to move Oz off of her and re-dress herself, but the thrill of it- the idea of someone walking in and seeing her spread open over a fucking pool table by her boss? It was unfathomable. So they stay still for a moment- revel in the throb in their abdomen as Oz puts weight on their lower back- forcing them to arch into him as they gasp at how hard he is just from toying with her.

“You wanna get fucked that badly, huh Sweetheart?” Oz whispers as he leans over her, hands shifting down the curve of her hips before leaving. Nell doesn’t have to guess where he goes- she can hear the sound of his suspenders snapping undone- and she wishes she could grab hold of something besides the smooth surface of the table. Oz elects to stay fully-dressed again, releasing himself from the confines of his dress slacks and dragging through the slick between Nell’s thighs.

“Please-” Nell tries their best to be quiet as Oz teases them, coating himself- hands holding firmly onto their waist as he rolls his hips forward and sinks into them. Nell can’t help but moan at the feeling of him splitting them open like this, and Oz is quick to quiet them, leaning forward to wrap a hand over their mouth. Then he’s pulling them toward him until she’s arching off the table and her back meets his chest, their hips slotted together as he hits something deep inside of her. He’s so thick, Nell realizes- and she whines against the hand over her face as she throbs around him.

Oz pulls her closer to his chest and fuck- he reaches down and pushes his fingers onto her, rubbing in slow circles as he just stays still. Oz holds her there, listening to the muffled sounds she’s making from behind his hand before he inches out, and Nell chokes as he nearly leaves her before pushing right back in to the hilt.

Oz takes a minute to roll his hips into theirs and fuck he can feel them squeeze along every vein as they come, moaning against his hand, and Oz does his best to fuck them through it. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to come with them, his hips stuttering for a moment before he has to fully pull out, still dripping.

“One isn’t good enough for ya’?” Oz teases as Nell shifts in his arms, trying to get him back inside. She says something- lips moving against his palm, and he obliges her, sliding back in before releasing her mouth, his hand trailing down to settle around her neck.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Nell whines as they squeeze him, and Oz loves the way they sound praising him like that. As they start grinding their hips back against him, Oz lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding- rolling into them as he sets a pace with shallow thrusts. Hand still around her throat, he tilts her head, sinking his teeth into the side of her neck, a little too high on the collar.

Nell wants to be mad at that- she wants to pull away and tell him off, but the reality of him marking her- wanting people to know she belongs to someone. It’s fucking feral , and Nell can’t stop the helpless way she leans back into him when he squeezes her jugular- his other hand trailing down to help as he works her into coming around him again.

“Don’t- don’t stop. Please.” Nell can barely manage to say through gasping breaths as they come again, clamping down around him like a vice. Oz releases them, getting them face-down into the table once more- and Nell blushes at just how wet they sound as Oz fucks the tension out of them. He puts weight on their shoulders, and the new angle nearly makes Nell scream- and they hope the edge of the pool table against their hips will leave a nice bruise to remember it by.

Oz curses as they shift backwards, meeting his pace, taking on some of the work. They know he’s close- they can tell by the way his movements falter and his hands squeeze tighter, moving around to pull their thighs apart and open them up to him more.

“Fuck-” Oz rasps “Where-”

“Jesus, just fill me.” Nell chokes out, and Oz does. He fucks into them once, twice- and then he’s shuddering above them, gasping out their name as he comes. White-hot pleasure rips through him as he growls, giving them exactly what they asked for.

Oz pulls out much quicker than they want him to, releasing their hips and moving up, warm hands settling on Nell’s shoulders.

“You alright Doll, was that too much?” Oz asks, and Nell lets out a soft laugh. His concern is endearing, and she wishes he could be this soft around them more often. They yearn to be that close to him- and they can tell Oz wants the same. But what would they even do? He’s still their boss- it wasn’t like he was going to ask them on a date- anything public was very strictly off-the-table.

“I’m fine, Oz- that was-“ Nell assures him, catching their breath as they push off the tabletop. “I needed that.” they add, as they fix their slacks before feeling around for their discarded jacket.

“So,” Oz starts, and Nell turns to where his voice is as he cracks open the door to check the hall. They watch as the light illuminates the scar across his cheek and his gold teeth as he smiles, and Nell desperately wants to kiss him. Their eyes meet as he continues-

“You want me to make you something for dinner?”

[gogolucky13]

Pretty Boy

Summary: You make Bucky a pretty boy.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: Fluff.

A/N: I’ve always imagined doing this and thought I’d write a little something about it. This isn’t my first time writing, but my first time sharing on here, so hopefully people read it and enjoy it. :) Also, gif not mine.

The common room is quiet, save for the soft pattering of rain against the large windows and the occasional huffs from the only other person in the room. You are on one end of the couch, legs curled under and a book on your lap. Bucky is on the floor in front of the opposite end of the couch, hunching over the coffee table as he puts together a massive one thousand piece puzzle.

It wasn’t unusual for you to find yourself alone and settled into a comfortable silence with Bucky. After arriving at the Compound, the two of you quickly formed a friendship, finding the other’s presence calming as you went about trivial tasks.

From your peripheral, you see annoyed fingers brush back loose strands of hair as Bucky lets out another huff.

“I can braid it for you,” you comment, closing your book over a forefinger to hold your place, attention focusing on Bucky.

He turns his head to look at you with a raise of an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Your hair,” you chuckle, “I can braid it for you. Then it won’t get in your face.”

A purse of his lips and skeptical eyes are narrowed at you. “Braid my hair?”

“Sure, why not. It’ll be fun.” You shrug, a coy smile playing at the corner of your lips.

Bucky’s gaze remains on you until he finally relents. “Okay, fine.” He turns back around, running fingers through the dark locks. “Braid my hair if you must.”

You hop off the couch with an excited squeak, tossing your now forgotten book onto an empty corner of the coffee table. “Gotta go get a brush, be right back!”

“Hurry up before I change my mind!” Bucky’s voice follows you into the hallway.

Delighted half steps, half skips lead you back to your room to gather a brush and hair ties. Truth be told, since the first day you met Bucky and his long locks, you had been itching to touch it, braid it, just play with it. Always offering to assist when he pulled it back during a work out, or providing input on what he could do to take care of it. Today was not the first time you had offered to braid it, but it seemed today was the day Bucky finally gave in.

“Alright, move forward a little,” you instruct, squeezing to sit behind Bucky on the couch once you returned to the common room. “Oooh, it’s so soft,” you comment, running your fingers in the silky tresses as you brush through it.

“Well, I do condition,” Bucky remarks, knowing there’s a smirk on his face without needing to see it.

“Thanks to me. You’d still be using bar soap I’m pretty sure.”

A quiet grumble vibrates in his chest and he reaches around to squeeze your foot out of faux annoyance.

“Just sayin,” you giggle. “Okay, one or two braids?”

“One or two?”

“Yeah, I could do two on the sides or one down the back.”

“What’s cooler?”

“Hm, well, Dorothy from Wizard of Oz has two braids, and Lara Croft from Tomb Raider has one. So, who do you want to be? Dorothy or Lara Croft?” You lean around as you ask, getting a glimpse of Bucky’s profile.

His eyes are narrowed in thought, lips moving side to side as he ponders. “Let’s do one, I’m feeling very Lara-y today.”

“Good choice.” You move back behind him, instructing him to look up as you gather three sections of hair. You continue to work through the braid, adding chunks of hair as you go.

“Owww,” whines Bucky when you pull maybe a little too tight.

“Shush,” you reply, adjusting his head slightly downwards. “I’m almost done.”

Gathering the last pieces of hair from the base of Bucky’s neck, you entwine them into the rest of the braid. You gesture for one of the small black hair ties you brought from your room and twist it around the tail of the braid.

“Okay, done.”

A small nudge to Bucky’s shoulders encourages him to stand up and inspect your work in the mirror above the fireplace. He’s quiet as he moves his head around to get a better look at the braid.

Finally, he turns around to face you with hands on his hips. “I’m impressed. I think Lara would be, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, sliding back to your end of the couch as Bucky moves to sit on the floor again to continue with his puzzle. Resuming your previous position, you reach for your book and catch a glimpse of Bucky’s profile. A few shorter strands of hair have already fallen out, framing his handsome features.

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you comment.

“I’m a what?” Bucky turns to look at you with raised eyebrows.

“A pretty boy.”

“No I’m not,” Bucky protests.

“Wow, Barnes, digging the hair,” Sam’s voice comes from behind as he enters the room.

Without turning around, Bucky replies, “Thanks, Y/N did it.”

Sam gives you an approving nod and you smile in return. “Sam, tell Bucky he’s a pretty boy.”

“Bucky, you’re a pretty boy.”

“Told you.” A smug smile spreads across your lips as you look back to Bucky.

“I’m a handsome man,” Bucky remarks, reaching for a couch pillow to throw at you.

You giggle, blocking the pillow from hitting you in the face. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

[pilot-boi]

How's everything going at the hospital? Everyone ready to head out and meet with Raven yet? I don't mean to rush anyone but it seems like time kiiiinda might be of the essence right now.

Qrow is leaning against the doorframe to the kids’ hospital room. He can’t even see Jaune under the pile of sobbing kids hugging him. All he can see of the poor kid is two pairs of buttery wings, laying like a protective shield over the backs of the children closest to him.

“Qrow, I need to talk to you,” Tai says, nearly charging down the hallway. “What’s- Oh.” He stops in the doorway. His daughters are on the floor hugging Jaune, and all three of them are sobbing. “Thank gods, he’s alright,” Tai murmurs, smiling fondly down at the sight.

“As alright as he can be,” Qrow responds under his breath. “I’ve gotta talk to you, too, but that can wait.” Nora dives forward, pushing Ruby away and taking her place under Jaune’s wing.

“I got word from our friends,” Qrow mutters. “Ozpin’s kid is in a bad way.”

Tai nods gravely. “They told me some stuff, too,” he responds, his tail lashing agitatedly. “I just… I don’t know if I can believe it…” He shakes his head and crosses his arms. “What’s happening with Oscar?”

“They didn’t say much, something about Children,” Qrow says quietly. “Jaune told me about them, they-” He growls softly. “He used to get trapped in with them as a punishment.”

Qrow swallows, and turns back to watching the kids. Jaune is smiling, he can’t imagine being able to smile if he’d gone through what the cub had. “The Children literally suck out your will to live.”

Tai swears under his breath. “And Oscar’s in there with them?!” he snarls. “How much time do we have?”

“We’re gonna need to speed stuff up,” Qrow responds. “I haven’t heard from Oz, but our friends are hopefully keeping him updated. Raven’s on her way here with the other bird kid.”

“Wait, how?” Tai frowns. “We took the only car, did she steal one?”

“Probably,” Qrow chuckles softly. “You know Rae.”

“Unfortunately,” Tai sighs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “So what’s the plan?” he asks quietly. “We can’t just walk through the front doors of this place, it’s like a fortress.” He eyes the pile of children, laughing and smiling and covered in bandages. “And how are we gonna keep them outta this?”

“Jaune wants to help,” Qrow murmurs. Tai growls softly, and Qrow nods. “No I agree, I don’t want the cub within a hundred feet of the place.” Tai gives him a side-eye glance and smirks slightly. “What?”

“You called him cub.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You definitely did.”

Qrow flushes slightly, and looks away. “Yeah well shut up.”

Tai returns his gaze to the kids. “We’ve gotta keep them outta this,” he mutters, gripping his arm. “It’s dangerous, more than any of them know.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I will not allow any of them to break into a secure military facility.”

“It might mean not rescuing some of the people trapped there.”

Tai tenses. Summer is trapped there, a voice whispers in his mind. Broken and beaten and in a worse state than Jaune. Are you just going to leave her behind, again?

“That’s a risk I’m willing to make,” Tai says woodenly.

From under Jaune’s wing, Nora’s ears prick up. She peeks out from around the feather, watching the adults in the doorway with interest.

“Hey guys,” she whispers out the corner of her mouth. Ruby perks up and Blake looks around. Jaune hums in acknowledgment. “I think the grown-ups are planning a rescue mission without us.”

[stayevildarling]

How the Sarah Paulson AHS Characters react to reader dying their hair in a vibrant color: (One Shots/Headcanon)

Cordelia Goode: 💛

-All day Cordelia has been pacing back and forth in her office, waiting for you to return home from wherever you are. At first she didn't really notice your absence because she was in her office all day, expecting you to be in the greenhouse or with the girls somewhere but when she couldn't find you in the afternoon she started worrying and calling you. You couldn't pick up the phone however because currently you are hiding in your old room at the academy after one of your genius ideas and spells failed miserably

-All you wanted was to change the color of a rose for Cordelia because you have been watching the other girls all do it before and you wanted to surprise her by learning this spell. What you missed was that on the table where you focused your magic on wasn't just a rose but also a strand of your hair. So instead of only the rose changing into a nice pink color it turned your hair pink as well

-At first you didn't notice until you saw your reflection in one of the big windows of the greenhouse and you have been embarassed about this all day. Instead of talking to anyone about this you decided to just hide in your old room with some books trying to figure out how to reverse this spell and get your natural color back. In the meantime Cordelia double checked around the entire academy and eventually she found a pink rose and pink strands of hair on the table in the greenhouse and she connected the dots after asking Zoe who was last in the greenhouse and her telling the supreme it was you

-Finding you in the end wasn't that hard either because all Delia has to do is close her eyes, imagine you and boom she will be right there, teleported by your side. You were just in the middle of reading your book, sitting on your old bed when Cordelia suddenly appeared. ''Delia'' you squeal and you say ''I hate it when you do that'' but suddenly you remember your hair. Cordelia stands in front of the bed, looking at you with a little smile ''What did you do to your hair sweetheart?'' she questions playfully and you look down feeling embarassed. She approaches the bed and sits at the end of it ''Well I tried to do a spell for you to enchant a rose and I also changed my hair color instead of just the petals'' you say with a frown

-Cordelia just smiles the entire time and shaking her head playfully before saying ''I really like the rose and the pink hair'' and you furrow your eyebrows and look at her ''Really?'' you ask and she nods. ''I could change it back you know'' she says after a few moments of silence and you say ''Really?'' and she nods. ''Can you then because I don't like it'' you say with puppy eyes and Cordelia chuckles and with a flick of her wrist your hair is back to normal. ''Oh thank you Delia'' you say and breathe out feeling relieved that your hair is all back to normal. ''Next time Darling just come to me straight away and I can fix it'' Cordelia scolds a little with a raised eyebrow ''Dinner now?'' you ask feeling hungry from hiding away all day ''Yes sweetheart come on'' Delia chuckles and takes your hand while pulling you into a kiss

-Will never stop joking about the time you tried to enchant a rose and ended up with pink hair, always makes jokes or sometimes playfully threatens to turn your hair pink again when you don't listen to her or you are disobeying

Ally Mayfair-Richards: ❤️

-Your wife is currently preparing breakfast in the kitchen when she hears a loud high pitched scream coming from you in the bathroom. ''Oh my god'' you scream and Ally is quick to drop everything she is doing and run upstairs. As she enters the bathroom she sees you standing by the mirror your hair a bright blue color. ''What have you done?'' Ally asks slightly shocked and you shake your head in disbelief ''Nothing I just washed my hair'' and Ally furrows her eyebrow in confusion before you see a little someone standing by the doorframe giggling

''Oz Mayfair-Richards I swear to god'' you say as you see him and Ally is quick to turn around and look at him. She raises her eyebrow at him and he instantly starts apologizing ''I'm so sorry it was supposed to be a prank for mom''. Ally's jaw drops a little and she huffs ''So this was for me just wait you'' and she chases him across the entire house. You stand in the bathroom unsure what to think of this sudden change in your appearance. After changing your clothes, you walk downstairs to the kitchen only to see Oz sitting by the table with a frown. ''I'm sorry Y/N'' he apologizes again but you just ruffle through his hair and tell him ''Payback just wait buddy'' and he smiles

-Ally walks over to you with the bottle he used ''It's just temporary it should come out in a few washes'' she says relieved and you also feel slightly relieved although part of you actually really likes this color. You take the bottle out of Ally's hand and say ''Come here Oz'' but Ally is quick to chase after you and scold ''Don't you dare put this on his head'' and you argue ''You said it was just temporary, just a few washes'' mocking her words from seconds ago. ''Please mom we can all dye it'' he suggests and you nod your head and both of you and Oz look at Ally full of excitement

-She takes a deep breath and thinks about it for a moment, considering it's the holidays and you all have a few days off she ends up agreeing ''Fine but I will do Oz's hair and my own'' and you and Oz squeal and run to the bathroom, Ally following with a chuckle and shaking her head playfully. The three of you end up with blue temporary hair but you all love it, you take a thousand selfies, Oz doesn't stop talking about it to his friends on the phone and Ally just loves her little adorable family

Wilhemina Venable: 💜

-You walk into Kineros Robotics with your head held high, carrying some lunch for your girlfriend ready to surprise her at work. The last few days she has been so stressed and busy with work that you thought it would be nice to cheer her up a little. You decided to wear her favorite skirt on you, some tights she loves and bring her favorite lunch plus you as dessert if she is up for that.  However the biggest surprise isn't the food, you or you showing up at her work unannounced it's the fact you just came from the hair dressers with your new hair color and Mina's favorite- purple of course

-Already from a few steps away you can hear her typing on her computer and you knock on her door gently. It takes a few moments before she replies ''Come in'' and at first she carries on working on her computer thinking it's her assistant or just someone getting on her nerves again but her jaw drops completely when she sees you and the hair. ''What on earth have you done?'' she asks her jaw still dropped. ''Don't you like it?'' you ask while closing the door and putting her lunch on the table. ''I do but why?'' Wilhemina asks, now a smirk visible on her face

-''Well you have my favorite color as a hair color- red and I thought I could have yours, I could tell you will like it'' you reply with a smirk and Wilhemina looks your body up and down. ''Besides this way everyone knows now that I belong to you'' you say with a smirk. ''Did you lock the door?'' Wilhemina asks while licking her lips ''Always Miss Venable'' you reply and she pulls you closer and sits you on her desk

-Wilhemina will be very shocked at first and unable to even speak about it because the gesture of you dying your hair purple just for her is something so special and no one has ever done anything special for her. Mina being Mina she is a bit awkward but soon enough will fall in love with the idea and your hair. Often strokes it and praises you for picking that color ''Good girl for choosing such a pretty color, little one'' she will say to you

Audrey Tindall: 💚

-You both have been talking about it for a little while now dying your hair in a more brighter color and what you didn't know was that when Audrey left for ''Work'' this morning she actually went to the hairdresser and when you told her you were gonna go to the ''Store'' you actually did the exact same

-Audrey decides for a turquoise color and you go for mint green. Once you both get home that night you stare at each other with the same hilarious expression. ''Oh my gawd you didn't'' Audrey says and you just start bursting out laughing that you both had the same idea, on the same day and even lied to what you are spending your day with and almost the same color

-''I love it'' you tell her as you actually take a proper look at her hair and you stroke through it. ''Yours is amazing too love'' Audrey says and she kisses your head and the two of you being adorable dorks you both walk around with very vibrant colors for a while, getting you strange looks wherever you both go especially when you go somewhere together

Billie Dean Howard: 🖤

-As soon as Billie Dean returns from work tonight she is so excited to see you. She unlocks the door and kicks off her heels while trying to find you. When she sees that you are not in the kitchen she frowns a little. Billie doesn't expect you to be her maid or anything and make her dinner every night but you usually do it so she is a little sad especially because you had messaged her in the morning you will cook for her

-She carries on looking for you and she can't find you anywhere at first. She was about to go back to the kitchen to get her phone and call you, thinking you might have gone somewhere when she hears silent sniffles coming from the bathroom. She instantly walks in there without knocking, worried why her babydoll would be upset. When she walks in however she sees you sitting on the floor with dark dirty green hair. She tries to hold in the chuckle and she kneels down in front of you ''Honey what happened?'' she asks and you try and fight the tears ''I was just trying to dye my hair blonde again and then this happened''

-Billie shakes her head and tuts ''Babydoll I have told you so many times don't use box dye and go to a hair dresser with me'' and you frown. ''I just wanted to surprise you that's all and I couldn't get an appointment anywhere until weeks so yeah'' and you cross your arms. ''Well you definitely have surprised me babydoll'' Billie says with a smirk and she offers her hand to help you up. ''But I'm ugly now'' you frown and Billie lifts up your chin and looks into your eyes ''Kitten you could never be ugly don't say that'' and you simply nod and mumble ''Okay''

-She leads you out of the bathroom and into the living room ''Alright you go ahead and order us some food and I will call Constance I think she has a good hairdresser and she might be able to get us an appointment for tomorrow'' Billie says and you smile, take the phone and thank your girlfriend. ''Thank you Billie'' you say shily and Billie walks off swaying her hips and answering ''Anything for you babydoll'' and you feel all warm and loved that Billie is taking care of you like that. You end up ordering Billie and your usual order and Billie gets you an appointment for the next day

-She takes you there and insists on staying with you and thankfully the hair dressers are able to fix it and you end up with pretty blonde hair. ''So pretty darling'' Billie praises as she takes you back home after paying for your new hair as well. ''Thanks for everything Billie'' you say and give her a kiss on the cheek while she takes you both home ''The green didn't look too bad'' she jokes and you roll your eyes and playfully punch her arm

Sally McKenna: 💙

-Your girlfriend has been waiting for you to return from your appointment all day. You didn't exactly tell her where you are actually going which only caused Sally to be suspicious and just a little jealous and also scared you won't come back due to her abandonment issues. What she didn't know however was that you are sticking to a weird dare that Sally found on social media. The post said ''Your first @ has to dye their hair in a vibrant color'' and of course Sally tagged you but never expected you to go through with it especially because it was a few days ago

-Considering you spent most of your days with Sally and in the hotel you thought why the hell not. So you ended up going to the hairdressers across the street from the hotel and you picked orange. It has always been one of your favorite colors and you just really wanted to go for orange and a short hair cut. As soon as you walk back into the hotel Liz sees you and approaches ''Looking good girl'' she says and you blush a little ''Well Sally is gonna love that pumpkin'' she says with a wink knowing all too well about how Sally always calls you by that pet-name

-You find Sally sitting in a booth by the bar and just drinking something. She sees you and looks away again before realizing you just walked into the bar. She spits her drink out seeing the color and she approaches you. ''What the fuck did you do?'' she asks shocked and you smirk and reply ''The post you tagged me in remember?'' and it takes a few seconds for her to reply ''Pumpkin I didn't think you would actually do that, it's orange'' she says while stroking through it gently ''Oh my god you are actually my little pumpkin now'' she says with soft puppy eyes and your heart melts at her words. She pulls you into a hug before dragging you to the bar to get a drink with her and show everyone your new hair color

-Will take selfies with you and photos of you, showing you off all over social media. She will edit a photo of you with a little pumpkin emoji and post it with the caption ''My little pumpkin'' and the hashtags ''my little pumpkin''  and ''hands off-mine'' Will never shut up about the orange hair and always forces you to get it dyed again once the color starts to fade and you both love it

Lana Winters: 🧡 (AU -now time)

-Your girlfriend is so excited to pick you up for your day together today because she agreed to take you to pride. You both have been preparing for ages, buying matching rainbow outfits, little badges and flags. What she didn't know yet is that she is in for another rainbow surprise as soon as you open the door. When you hear the doorbell you are a bit nervous of her reaction considering you have dyed your hair from your natural color to rainbow color, even though it will be temporary you are still nervous about her reaction

-As soon as you open the door Lana's cute smile turns into her jaw dropping slightly and eyes going wide ''Oh my god'' she chuckles after the initial shock and she asks ''Is that permanent?'' but you quickly reassure her it will wash out in a few days. ''Okay good I love it then'' she says with the most adorable smile and you can't help but smile at how adorable she looks with the rainbow t-shirt, pride pin and little rainbow face paint and her hair in a cute ponytail

-She will take your hand ''Ready sweetie?'' and you will both spend the best day together, dancing with people, singing to the music and enjoying your day at pride. A LOT of people mention and compliment your hair and Lana smiles every single time, proud to be your girlfriend

A/N: I have more stories on my wattpad- check it out ✨

[guiltgoreglory]

Heat Waves (Chapter 2: An Ego Check)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi.  (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2626 words)

Chapter 1

Tagging: @abitofpablo​ @kimburgss​ @ceyruh

You watched as the dust clouds trailed behind the buggy. The rest of the trip you all sat in silence, taking in the events that had just occurred. When you saw the base from a distance you decided it was safe to holster your weapons. You wiped the sweat of your palms on your thighs as you willed your heart to slow down, and so it did. The second you felt back at equilibrium, Rone took a quick turn into the base. To no surprise, it was the most conspicuous looking place you could have imagined. You expected better from the CIA. Several armed American guards stood at the gate which was surrounded by obvious cameras. You rolled your eyes knowing that if anyone wanted to target us, it wouldn’t be hard. One guy even wore a New York Yankee’s cap. It’s like they didn’t even try.

“Check the new rides. Gaddafi had a going-out-of-business sale on armored vehicles…” Rone gestured towards the Mercedes amongst several other high-end vehicles. He whistled. Leave it to Rone to keep the tone light. “Max-leveled armored, man. We got a great deal… We stole ‘em.” Rone stared down Jack with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. He seemed extremely proud of himself for that one. You watched as a similar smile tugged at the corners of Jack’s lips. You behaved similarly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a shitty joke. 

You gathered your things as the car came to a stop. Rone hopped out, throwing the keys to another man wearing a vest, “Sat unattended at the airport.” His stride paused as he watched someone from afar. You followed his gaze until you saw the Chief. This was definitely going to be something, you didn’t know what, but you could feel the subordination getting ready to bubble out of Rone. “Hey, Chief,” Rone called, nonchalantly, almost mockingly. The Chief looked like any middle-aged man who worked in business. Blue blazer, khaki pants, glasses, the whole shebang. His posture screamed superiority complex, you knew from the get-go you wouldn’t get along, not like it mattered anyway.

“I don’t want to hear it, Tyrone.” He called back, shuffling his way back into the building. Rone strutted towards him, duffel in hand. 

“No, no, I understand.” He turned his head for a moment, keeping out of the way of a car

driving past. “I see what you’re going for here,” he called, on the verge of yelling, “Secret spy base with fortified walls, gate cameras,” He fumbled to get his id badge in hand. “and blue-eyed Westerners! walking in and out of this place all day long.” He did a lovely spin for emphasis, pointing towards all the obvious Americans walking around the base. You followed close behind, knowing you were going to need to speak with him as soon as Tyrone was done tearing into him. “But if you want to avoid..” His words were cut off by the Chief slamming the squeaky metal door in your face. His voice dropped a decibel and he spoke, mostly to himself, “That’s so rude”. He placed his phone into the tray mounted on the wall beside the door, before scanning in his card to gain entry. “Can’t believe he just did that to me.” Your heart started to pick up once again. Nothing made you more frustrated than a cocky man being too good to have a goddamn conversation.

The door let out a loud buzz before Rone pushed open the entrance. “Chief, if you want to avoid an international incident,” He continued to track in the Chief’s footsteps, “you send me my guys when I ask for them.” Many of the agents sitting at their computers peeked up to watch the drama unfold. Some took a look at you, the new face, before returning to watch the catfight.

Finally, the man turned to look at Tyrone, squinting in disapproval like a man reprimanding his toddler. “Local faces need to resolve local conflicts, Tyrone.” Aka, your life means little to nothing to me; the incident was just a wrinkle in my daily schedule. He flipped mindlessly through papers within a manilla folder. Wow he’s so important look how busy he is. “We’re guests in this country.” You and Jack came to stand a few feet behind Rone, trying to stay close without poking the bear. 

“We’re unwanted guests, Bob.” Rone rebutted. He’s not wrong. 

“We’re spies, you’re security guards.. Your job is to keep us out of trouble, not get into it yourselves.” God, he’s pretentious. Rone flipped through some files pinned onto a pillar, looking through some photos of notable people of the region. 

“Well help me do my job and give me my guys.” He didn’t bother giving the Chief the privilege of his eye-line as he continued to search through the photos. You heard a buzz, and quickly turned to see the other members of the squad you were now a part of. Perfect timing. You made eye contact with one of them, Chris Paronto. Based on your prior research everybody called him Tanto, the mischievous one. Just then the Chief said some absolute bullshit.

“Here’s what you guys are good at: working out, eating five hot meals a day. What you’re not so good at is doing what you’re told.” God, he was so fucking proud of himself. Look at you little man, showing off your power in front of your team. You let a little of your annoyance slip out. 

“Ironic considering without us, everyone’s a sitting duck.” You whispered softly. The men all turned their heads towards you. Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to get this over with. 

“Excuse me? And who are you? Some ex-army nobody who can’t let go of the glory of war?” 

Alright, time to rip off the bandaid. You stood a little taller, stepping closer to the Chief, just beside Rone. “Honestly... I’m someone out of your security clearance.” You said assertively. Jack shared a hesitant look with Rone.

“Bullshit.” He turned away from you, readying to remove himself from the conversation. 

“Alright, I think it’s best if we get a phone call over with now.” You dropped your duffel onto the tile, squatting down beside it. The armed men gripped their guns just a little bit tighter. The Chief stood, watching you confused. You unzipped the bag, reaching in to wrap your hands around a satellite phone. You zipped it back up but left it on the ground for now.

“I don’t have time for this.” The Chief began to walk towards his office as you stood, clicking a number on speed-dial. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The director doesn’t like waiting.” You held the phone to your head, keeping a straight face. That definitely made him pause. He turned back towards you, squinting his little face up. 

“Director of what?” He sighed. 

“Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.” You responded casually as if you were telling him the forecast for the next week. You waited as the phone continued to ring. 

Everyone stood in silence except for one guy. Tanto leaned over to whisper in Boon’s ear. “Who the fuck is she?”

Finally, a voice came over the line. “Y/N.”

“Good morning, Sir. We have arrived at the location.” Everyone had their eyes on you, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Any incidents?”

“One en route to base. Resolved without violence. I’ll have a report to you within the hour.”

“Great.” He took a deep breath and you could hear him adjust in his chair. “I take it you’d like me to speak with Bob.”

“That would be appreciated, Sir.”

“Alright hand me over.” You took steady, calculated steps towards the Chief, holding the phone out for him to take. He gently took it from your hand. His eyes bore holes into the crevices of the tiled floor.

“Hello..” The Chief said tentatively. You stepped back, giving him some room. You crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging in Rone’s direction. You could tell he was living for this. “Yes, Sir…. I understand, Sir. Of course…. Goodbye.” He stood like a dog with his tail between his legs. He stepped back towards you, holding out the phone. You took it gladly with a polite smile. Pressing the phone back to your ear you concluded with a quick farewell before going back to put your phone into the duffel. As you squatted beside it, you looked up towards the Chief. 

“Are we good?” You said. You no longer wanted to squabble and your tone reflected as such. 

“Yes.” He said curtly, returning to his office. The second the door closed, the chatter of the room returned back to normal. You turned back to the men of the team looking at Rone expectantly. 

“Alrighty then.” Rone turned to walk towards their lounge and the guys began to follow. Tanto sucked in his lips, trying to stifle a chuckle. The burly man next to him, Boon, jabbed him in the side before moving towards the room. You waited for Jack, giving him a genuine, small smile before trailing behind. 

“Well, that was fun.” Mark Geist, also known by the team as “Oz”, stated monotonously, walking into the room as he disassembled his rifle. 

“He gets his jollies pushing around alphas because he can.” John Tiegen. Called “Tig”. He’s the brains. The first one to be stationed here. You stood in the corner watching as he placed his things into his cubby. 

“We had this commander back in ranger school, he was a real cockbag…” Creative insult. Tanto began to remove his vest as he narrated on. You figured you’d be here for a minute so you pulled the straps of your cello case off of your shoulders placing it onto the floor, along with your duffel. Now that you were within the compound you took off the hijab, throwing it on top of the luggage. You flipped your head forward shaking out the matted hair before you pulled it into a bun. It was a mess but it did the job.

“So on our last night, me and a buddy, we stole his beret.” He placed his vest down on the table before plopping down onto the worn couch. “Whole barracks chubbed it.”

“Chubbed it?” Boon replied, his tone made you think he really didn’t want to know, whipping out his knife to fidget with.

“Yeah, rubbed our dicks on it.” Tanto replied, the widest smile crossing his face. He looked like the Cheshire cat as he reached for the gaming controller. You coughed, stifling your laugh before your face turned quizzical. He turned back towards you, noticing your reaction before giving you a quick up and down and returning to his game. You sauntered over to Jack to join in the awkwardness of being new. You tuned into Tig as he was beginning to talk work to Rone. He leaned forward over a desk that Rone was sitting at. 

“Leader was a former Gitmo detainee.” They scanned the rugged laptop, you presumed that they were looking for who you’d tangoed with this morning.

“Yeah, those guys usually don’t hold a grudge.” Rone said in his usual sarcastic tone. 

“Hey guys,” Oz’s voice pulled you from your concentration as you turned to face him with a friendly smile. “Mark Geist, Oz.”

“Pleasure.” Jack went to shake his hand and you followed suit.

“Ah guys I’m sorry.” Rone spun on his office chair to face the rest of the crew. “Everybody, this is Jack Silva. It’s our third contract together so he knows the drill. We met training SEALs at Coronado.”

Tanto turned back for a second. “How do you get them to balance that beach ball on their nose?” A few chuckles could be heard from the guys.

“It’s tough.” Jack’s shoulders relaxed slightly, letting himself become more comfortable around his new team. 

“And this” He gestured his hand towards you. “is Y/N. She’s uhh..” He paused for a split second, trying to find the right word to describe you. “black-ops and apparently has the government at her fingertips so she’ll probably be of use.” You smirked, nodding your head towards the guys. Rone rose from his spot, spreading his arms across the room. “So we got three ex-Marines here and one ex-Army retard who likes to rub his dick on things.” Tanto stood proudly facing you two. 

“Kris Paronto. Call me Tanto.” You both shook his hand. You found Tanto’s demeanor amusing, and much to your dismay, his confidence was undeniably attractive. Despite the tall crowd, he still somehow towered above them. You shared eye contact for a brief moment before turning towards Tig. Although he felt easy to get along with, you hoped his casual demeanor didn’t affect his work. In your experience, the joker usually got people killed. Despite this, what you had researched, he seemed to be doing alright so far. 

“Hey. I’m Tig.” He waved towards you two.

“Tig’s been here the longest, so he’ll get you up to speed on the area,” Rone said, stabbing a red pin into a map. Looking in more detail you noticed it was the location of your incident. “This is Boon. Scout Sniper, Zen Master, Holder of Tanto’s leash.” He pointed to the man sitting in the sturdy armchair. 

He looked up from his lap. “Welcome to Club Med.”

“It hasn’t rained since June. It’s not gonna rain again until September.” He walked right up to you two strolling past slowly. “You two will be double-bunked. Not me, because I’m in charge. Gym sucks,” damn “food’s actually good.” Lose, win. 

Tig walked to the center of the room, a few feet from the three of you. “Base Chief is kinda a tool, but who knows, maybe now that you’re here he’ll be moderately tolerable.” 

You shrugged. “No promises but if he gets too snippy I’ll whip out the phone again.” 

“Maybe he just needs a new hat” Jack quipped. Tanto looked up from the TV to point appreciatively at Jack. 

“Don’t encourage him,” Rone said as if talking about his puppy.

“Come on. He’s just a guy with a job to do.”Oz said. Based on the dynamic he was the dad of the group. Honest, serious, tough-love type of guy. Makes sense given he’s the sniper.  “He’s playing his string out, but if you talk to him, Bob did some shit back in the day.” You’d heard it a million times, some badass joins the CIA works his way up until he’s practically just a desk jockey with a power problem. Didn’t gain him any sympathy from you.

“Alright, Jack, Y/N, this is the whiteboard that’s gonna run your life for the next sixty days.” You looked over the various points of the board as Jack made his way towards the couch. Given the limited space you preferred standing just behind, leaning your hip against the back. “I want you to check it every hour cause last-minute moves pop up every minute, such as... where shotgunning it in three hours.” Everyone in the room except you, Jack, and Rone let out an audible groan of annoyance. Tanto slapped his controller onto his lap, looking up to the ceiling. Before concentrating back on the game, he looked at you. You took this opportunity to raise an eyebrow in his direction given his childlike reaction to the news. He responded with a strong but blank stare. You rolled your eyes slightly, breaking eye contact to pay attention to Rone. You were used to being dispatched on the drop of the hat, acclimating to the schedule here probably wouldn’t be too much of a pain.

“Three hours. I’ll let you know when I’m briefed.”

[prose-for-hire]

A place to call your own

Pairing: Oz x fem!Harris!reader

Request: thank you 😊It's an Oz request(I still miss him) . I mean, I LOVE Willow and Tara, but what about my favorite werewolf? what if instead of Willow, Oz fell in love with the other witch, yn? she's Xander sister and they have been together since high school. what do you think?

Requested by: @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ - sorry about the wait love 💖

Being Xander’s sister was, at times, trying. He was a minute older than you and never let you forget it. He made fun of you, knocked on the bathroom non-stop when you were using it and made jokes at the most inappropriate times. Despite this, you did love him and he did often protect you like a big brother. He was the only one he thought should be able to tease you.

That was why it was simultaneously scary and exciting to be moving out of the family home and in with Oz. Even if you hadn’t been ridiculously in love and pleased to move in with him, it beat taking Xander on in hand-to-hand combat over who gets the grand prize of living in that dank basement.

You had both graduated high school and you were starting college in the fall. Oz was taking a year out to focus on his band and was going to join you in your studies in a year.

Xander had been shocked and tried to talk you out of it at first, worrying that if Oz started touring, he would leave you for someone else - leaving you heartbroken. You appreciated his concern, but you wished he wouldn’t always muscle his way into your relationship. After talking it over and him seeing how in love you and Oz were, he tried to be supportive.

You and Oz had been together since high school. He had seen you in the crowd at the Bronze before his set, drinking and laughing with your friends. When he eventually got up on stage, the Bronze was slow that night. Nobody was on the dancefloor and the band was starting to waver from the energy they usually held.

It was hard for them to get into the music when there was no energetic crowd. You had smiled softly, watching Oz, nodding your head in time before stepping onto the dancefloor. You began dancing by yourself to begin with, but you didn’t appear embarrassed at all.

Oz smiled as you had caught his eye, a smile that he only ever reserved for you. As if this smile, that tilts off to the side slightly in the cutest way, only started happening since he saw you.

People stared for a while but eventually more and more of them joined you, including Willow and the others. You hadn’t even used any magic to bring the crowd in.

Even before Oz got to know you, before he had even spoken to you he thought there was magic about you. He thought you were special. He was proved right, and told you as such, almost every day since he had this thought.

Not just because of how much of a powerful witch you had become in the time since you had known and started to date him. But because of the way you cared for others, the way your heart was never closed to someone that needed any kind of assistance.

You were a practicing witch. Your main practice working with healing and herbal remedies. It fit your personality perfectly. You cared so deeply for people and it made Oz fall deeper and deeper in love with you.

This type of magic came in handy if the Scoobies or yourself ended up getting wounded in a fight. And it especially came in useful once you realised you had a werewolf for a boyfriend. You sat with him, bars between you, every full moon. You never left his side despite him insisting you shouldn’t have to.

You wanted to, though. You were his, by his side for always.

Oz adored you. You were confident but not overbearing. You were in tune with him and very empathetic. He particularly loved the way you were able to find the beauty in anything, but not oblivious to the world’s horrors. You were well-rounded and he fell in love with you so deeply. As you did with him.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but the words he did utter where usually for you. They were sensitive and completely from the soul. He could be so meaningful, make you feel so blessed to be with him. He was also incredibly funny, his dry humour matching yours.

You complimented each other so well. You could pick the other up if you were to ever fall. Your vices were his strengths and vice versa. You had moved in, your friends helping you move your boxes into your new place. You settled in together. He loved the way you smiled so excitedly at the prospect of living together.

It was a place you could call your own. Just for you and him. A place that meant safety, protection of the other. Where you could return after long days and challenging nights. This meant that no matter how long you spent apart, how much you missed each other, you would always come back to each other.

It was a promise. That this was serious. That this meant so much to you. You had smiled over at him when your friends left, unable to stop grinning the entire day. You eventually settled into bed beside each other, settling to finish the rest of the unpacking the next day.

It was the first morning waking up side-by-side in your shared home. In each other’s arms without having to be ripped away from him. For one of you to go back home or leave to go somewhere else.

This morning was yours. Just the two of you.

You woke slowly, settling into the warmth of the sheets. You saw that the morning sun had risen and you muttered something, sliding the curtains open to let the light in.

The glow of the late morning sun filtered in slowly. The glow of the room warming you from the inside out. The light danced around you, casting soft patterns around the room. The sun was shining, everything was well. Your mood couldn’t falter when he was here with you. Lying by your side.

He had rolled over, his body pressed against yours. He liked your warmth, enjoyed the sensation of you by his side. His soft breathing telling you he was still asleep. You couldn’t help smiling as he instinctually wrapped his arm around your middle. It was protective and he was ensuring you were still there.

You were in a nest of blankets and bedclothes. It was the way you usually slept but together it was so much sweeter. Wrapped up together, bundle in such warming adoration.

“I love you” He whispered through a small smile. He pressed several soft kisses to the back of your neck from where his head was resting. You sighed, this was bliss. You couldn’t imagine waking up anymore without him being there.

You turned, rolled back so that you could face him. Still in his arms. His hand rubbing soothingly against you as you pressed yourself comfortably against him.

He had dyed his hair black again. You liked it this way. You liked it any way he styled it, really. You ran your hands through his hair and he closed his eyes at the sensation. That small smile on his lips again. The soft one, that he only did when it was you and him. When he was comfortable.

Your fingers massaging his scalp a little before you just rested your hand there on the nape of his neck. You leaned in, pressing such a soft kiss to his lips. It was a peck against his lips, chaste but full of so much feeling.

So many possibilities stretched before you. Your entire lives, you were sure of it. Oz was so full of heart. His feelings were always yours. He spoke them as if they were casual things. As if he was talking about the weather or the like.

But his words could be so moving. They could mean so much and he spoke them as if these were thoughts everyone had. Could say them so nonchalantly. You made sure he knew just how much you felt for him. How you adored him. How you loved him.

You shared such natural physical affection. He enjoyed it. The way your love appeared to vibrate through your body and into his. At a mere touch.

There was nothing you couldn’t face together. You knew, somewhere within that you would never lose him. That real, honest love such as this could never die. Nor dry up. The well of your love held an everlasting abundance.

You had so much hope. For the future. Only with him.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 1/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 1: It’s Better to Feel Pain

Emma Nolan stared at herself in the mirror, the white gown hugging the curves of her hips as the material jutted out behind her, flowing into a long swirl of creamy white silk behind her. It was the wedding dress of her dreams. Growing up she never imagined she would get the chance to wear it, much less afford it. Lately everyone kept telling her what a fairytale her life had become and how lucky she was to be marrying Walsh Oz, billionaire extraordinaire, New York’s most eligible bachelor.

Lucky was one way to put it, but lately, Emma just felt trapped.

She knew she was being irrational and completely selfish. Women had been lining the block simply to get a hello from Walsh, and all she did was walk into one of his hotels and he was captivated by her. At first it was a dream come true. Walsh took her to all the best restaurants, the most lavish parties, even flying her to London on his own private jet to celebrate their one-year anniversary.

Her parents were enamored with her fiancé, she didn’t fault them for it. Her parents always wanted the best for their daughter. Walsh could provide her things they could never afford or even imagine owning themselves.

“Oh my God, Emma, sweetie, you look beautiful.” Emma looked in the mirror to see her mother’s reflection, her cheeks beaming red, her eyes full of pride. She managed a smile and flattened the material around her hips.

“What is it? Is it the dress?” Her mother’s expression turned anxious, and Emma bit her lip.

“No, it’s fine. The dress is perfect.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m getting everything I ever dreamed of.” She sighed. “Just…” Her mom stepped up on the platform next to her. “How did you know dad was the one?”

“Well…I don’t think it was one thing. When I met your father, I was young and stubborn. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight. In fact, the first time I met him, I thought he was so cocky that I threw my drink in his face.”

Emma laughed. “You did not.”

“I did, he walked up to me, and introduced himself with the stupidest pick-up line.”

“No! Dad was one of those guys?”

“I believe he told me that I could stop looking because I had just met the man of my life.”

Emma groaned, hardly believing that her dad had tried that on her mom. She had heard stories of her mom, strong willed, stubborn, and determined that she didn’t need a man in her life.

“And yet you still married him.”

“Let’s just say he grew on me.”

“Dad isn’t one to give up.”

“No, he definitely isn’t. I think that’s where you get it from.” Emma frowned. “Emma what is it?”

“I don’t know, I just…” She paused, unsure how to say what was bothering her. “Do you think I’m giving up. Getting married to Walsh?”

“Giving up? What do you mean? You love Walsh. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. I mean…I’d be crazy not to.”

“Emma…” Her mother started to fuss with the train on her dress.

“Mom, it’s fine, honestly, I’m just nervous.” Emma deflected, adjusting the veil on her head. She was getting married in a week. She was just getting cold feet, that was all. Of course, she loved Walsh. She’d be an idiot not to. She exhaled and stared at her reflection.

“You really are a beautiful bride.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“It’s ok to be nervous. Every bride is nervous before their wedding.” Her mom squeezed her hand. “When do you and the girls leave?”

Emma checked her phone. “Crap, Ruby is stopping by in three hours. I need to get home and pack.”

“Well, I think we’re all done here. You guys are going to be careful right? Don’t drink too much and get plenty of sleep.”

“Mom, it’s a bachelorette weekend, not a church revival.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“I know but it’s so close to the wedding.”

“Don’t worry, Ruby has everything planned out.”

“Yes, that’s what worries me.” She laughed.

“Belle helped her plan the trip, and you know that Belle would never do half the stuff Ruby does, so I think everything will be fine.”

Her phone began ringing on the chair next to the dressing room door. Emma stepped off the ramp and saw Ruby’s face pop up on the screen. She slid across the screen to accept the call.

“Girl, are you ready for some debauchery and drunken parties!” Emma closed her eyes and turned toward her mom.

“She’s joking.” She faced the phone. “Seriously Ruby, don’t freak my mom out.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Nolan, I’m just kidding, we are going to be doing a lot of volunteer work at a local church in…”

“Nice try Ruby.” Her mother said with a roll of her eyes. “Just make sure she comes back safely and in one piece.”

“You’ve got it, mom.” Ruby nodded. “You can trust me.”

“I trust Belle. I only partially trust you.”

“Ouch.”

“I still remember senior year.” Her mother continued and Ruby groaned.

“You make one mistake, and no one ever forgets it.”

“I hardly believe that 2 days in county lock up counts as a mistake.” Her mother pulled the veil from Emma’s hair and sat it on the chair. “Just bring her home in one piece, Ruby.”

“Yes, mom. I promise.”

“I’m headed home now to pack.”

“You haven’t packed yet? You are always the last to do anything. Belle’s been packed for 3 weeks.”

“Yes that’s because Belle is a control freak and has no life.”

“Just be ready by the time we get there.”

“I can’t do that until you hang up.”

“Goodbye, bitch.” Ruby’s face disappeared from the screen and Emma felt her mother’s hands on her back, unlacing the straps on the dress.

“Please be safe this weekend.” Her mother said softly.

“I will mom, it’s just a short road trip to Maine.”

“You know I worry when you go to the store.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll message you along the way. Will that make you feel any better?”

“I love you.” Her mom said seriously. Emma stared at her mom, a smile spreading on her face.

“I love you too, Momma.”

Emma finished getting dressed back into her clothes and left her mother at the front of the store. She drove back to her apartment, trying to remember everything that she needed to pack when she got back home.

Her phone rang again, and she clicked the button on her steering wheel to accept the call from Walsh.

“Hey babe.” She announced as the call connected.

“Emma, darling, have you left yet?”

“Nope, just headed home from my last dress fitting.”

“Do you really need to go today?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I don’t see the point to this trip.”

“I just want to spend time with my best friends before we leave for Italy.”

“I don’t like it. Three women traveling across country alone isn’t safe.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Why can’t you fly? I can have my pilot fly you there.”

“Because we want to do a road trip. Like we did our senior year.”

“But you have a jet, Emma. Driving is so…beneath you now.”

“We talked about this; I want to do this.” Emma sighed. She was tired of having this argument with him. Back in their senior year, Ruby, Emma, and Belle had taken an epic road trip on senior skip day. They just wanted to relive these moments before things changed. Walsh would never understand, he hadn’t been a normal teenager. He had been raised with wealth since he was born. He didn’t enjoy the mundane things like driving his own car or taking a trip without a personal chef.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.” He paused before continuing. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my hotel up there? The penthouse would be much better than whatever room Ruby could have booked.”

“Would you stop that, Ruby saved for two months to afford to take me on this trip.”

“And I told you she didn’t have to do that.”

“That’s not the point, she wanted to do this for me.”

He groaned, “Fine, just call me when you get there.”

“Of course, I will.”

“I love you darling.”

“Yeah you too.” She said quickly, hanging up the phone and pulling into the parking garage. She lived alone in an apartment near the water. Walsh hated that she wanted to live there until after the wedding. He hated the fact that she lived in this area of town, but she didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Sure, there was a homeless guy who lived in the alley, but Emma thought Leroy was just a grumpy old man who was down on his luck. Sometimes she would make herself an extra sandwich for lunch and drop it off to him on her way to work. He would grumble and moan about not needing a handout, but he always thanked her when she returned home from work.

Her favorite part of the apartment was the balcony. She had the best view of the harbor that no amount of money could pay for. She spent her evenings sitting at the tiny table, drinking her cocoa, and watching the boats sail in for the evening. It was her tiny piece of heaven. And the one thing she was going to miss most about moving to Walsh’s city penthouse. She looked over at the easel propped against the wall, her latest painting still sitting unfished on the wooden stand. She ran her fingers over the majestic swan lightly etched in the center of the pond waiting for a coat of paint to give it justice. She would finish it once she returned home from her trip.

She took one last look at the docks in front of her and hurried back into her apartment to pack her bags before Ruby would arrive. Emma met Ruby Lucas on the playground in 1st grade. Emma was hiding under the slide, away from the teasing taunts of her male classmates when Ruby walked over to the biggest of all the boys, knocked him backwards into the sand and growled at him. They had been best of friends ever since. When Belle French moved to their school in 4th grade, her nose stuck in a book, a shy smile creeping on her face when anyone approached her, Ruby and Emma made it their mission to draw her out of her quiet existence.

The three had become inseparable once they reached junior high school. They had a pact that they would always be there for each other, no one would ever mess with any of them. And no male would ever come between them.

They had been tested throughout the years. Their pact threatened to dissolve when Belle and Ruby found out they were both sleeping with the same man. Graham Humbert never knew what hit him when instead of turning on each other, they confronted him and both women left him alone that evening.

When Emma was first approached by Walsh, she wanted to turn and run away from all the attention he suddenly thrust upon her. She didn’t feel worthy of all the extravagant gifts and flowers, but Ruby and Belle convinced her that she deserved to be treated like the princess she always dreamed of being. Eventually she got used to the way that Walsh showed his affection through a new diamond bracelet or an overnight trip to the Eiffel Tower. Even if sometimes she felt like he only did it for the cameras or to earn a positive write up in the paper whenever a negative news story was threatening to brew about one of his corporations.

Emma pushed the negative thoughts from her brain. Walsh loved her. He asked her to marry him. Emma Nolan was about to be Mrs. Emma Oz.

She scrunched her nose and groaned. It was such a stupid name. Oz. When she first heard about Walsh, she thought the last name was a joke, there was no way his last name was out of a storybook with a tornado and munchkins. When she finally met him and he told her the story of how he legally changed his family name of Oswald to Oz so that his business empire would be named the Land of Oz and he would be its ruler, she almost choked on her tea and walked out of the restaurant.

Emma Oz. Utterly Ridiculous.

Her front door swung open, and Emma heard Ruby and Belle’s voices through the hall. “I’m back here.” She yelled.

“Tell me you aren’t still packing!” Ruby exclaimed as she entered the bedroom.

“Of course, I’m not. I’m just…” She bit her lip. “Checking to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” She lifted the few items she had in the bag.

“Looks like you forgot almost all of it, Emma.” Belle teased.

“You have been procrastinating for weeks on this trip. Are you sure you want to go?” Ruby whined.

“Of course, I want to go, I would go anywhere with you two losers.”

“Aww, we love you too.” Ruby cooed, wrapping her arms around her waist and tugging Belle into their mashed-up bodies.

“Ok this is getting us nowhere. Let me finish up, I promise it’s only going to take me five minutes.”

The girls retreated to the kitchen while Emma finished shoving items into her bag. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been looking forward to this trip. She really did want to spend time with Ruby and Belle. But after this weekend, the only thing left was the wedding and maybe deep down she wasn’t really ready for that to happen.

She took one last look around her room to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything and tossed the bag over her shoulder.

“It’s about time.”

“Hey now, I’m the bride, shouldn’t I get more time than the rest of you?”

“You’re the one marrying a billionaire bachelor, if anyone needs more time to get ready for this trip it should be us. We haven’t found our sugar daddy yet.” Ruby shrugged.

“Walsh is not my sugar daddy.” Emma scolded in reply. “So, are we going to waste more time, or can we get going now?”

“Are you ready to enjoy your final week of freedom?” Belle teased.

“One last week to get down and dirty.” Ruby replied as she bumped her hip against hers.

“Are either of you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“Nope.” Ruby said simply, grabbing her bag from her hand and walking out the door.

“I call shotgun.” She yelled, chasing after her friends.

Sitting in the car, singing at the top of her lungs, was everything she could have ever asked for to distract her from her apparent case of cold feet.

If you wanna be my lover You gotta get with my friends Make it last forever Friendship never ends

Belle and Emma continued singing loudly as Ruby pulled off the road suddenly.

“Please tell me this is not where we are staying?” Emma looked around at the forest surrounding each side of the small road they were traveling on. Ruby insisted they take an off-road route on their way to Maine. She called it Emma’s Exploration Highway.

“Of course, we aren’t staying here, this is just one of the stops on the Emma Exploration Highway Express.”

Emma groaned. “Stop calling it that.”

“Come on, what happened to that crazy girl we grew up with? Just because you are about to be hitched doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.”

“Hey, I’m still that same girl.” She complained.

Ruby held up a bag in her hands and smirked. “Well then, let’s get adventurous.”

Belle hopped out of the car, popping the trunk, and pulling out a cooler and a blanket. Emma looked around anxiously at the lush forest surrounding them. She had no idea what her friends had planned but whatever it was, she knew she would never forget this week with them. She was lucky to have friends that cared so deeply for her. People she had known almost her entire life that still knew her as Emma Nolan. Maybe if she still had them, she wouldn’t lose her identity when she became Mrs. Oz.

“So, what exactly are we doing?”

“Follow me.” Ruby winked mysteriously and she followed her down a dirt trail to the edge of a mountain. She could hear water rushing loudly over the side of the cliff. Leaning forward to peek over the edge she saw a waterfall cascading toward the ground far below her. The water sped off down a quick moving river and through the dense forest below them. She could see where it split off down two paths into a larger river, with a fast-moving current tossing water against the rocks. Beyond that it was a mystery, the lush forest cradled together to hide the beauty it kept beneath it. The view was breathtaking.

“Ok future Mrs. Oz, it’s time to give your man a reason to miss you.”

Emma looked down at the items being dumped out onto the blanket and blushed. “No way. I’m not putting any of that on.”

“Oh, come on, live a little, I bet that man will jizz in his three-piece suit when he sees pictures of you wearing this.”

“Ruby, it’s supposed to be sensual, not dirty.” Belle corrected her friend.

“Oh my God, stop. I don’t want you to ever think about my future husband like that.” Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. She held up on of the lacey items in front of her face. Emma never really wore lingerie. It made her feel exposed, and Emma didn’t like to feel like she was not in control.

Emma was always in control of herself around Walsh. She wasn’t a virgin, but sex with Walsh was almost clinical. They had a way they did things, and they didn’t deviate from them. They always had sex in bed, removing the comforter before their clothes came off. Walsh would kiss her, touch her breasts, and then complete the act on top of her. Afterwards, he would insist they both shower so as not to dirty the sheets. He preferred things to be clean and tidy at all times.

At first Emma found him to be odd, almost robotic, but after a while she became acclimated to the process. At times enjoying the fact that she didn’t have to go out of her comfort zone to please him. He never seemed to want more from her, and she didn’t offer.

But she always wondered if after they were married that maybe he might be interested in more. One time during their initial dating period, she tried to coax him into having a quickie in a janitor’s closet at one of his hotels. At first he seemed intrigued, almost turned on, until she kicked over a mop bucket, spilling the dirty water all over the floor and causing Walsh to immediately retreat from the room in disgust.

She was sure that getting photos of her in sexy lingerie out in the middle of nowhere might shock him. Maybe it would be good to show a different side to him, give him a taste of the woman he was marrying. Maybe he would take her the moment she returned home. The thrill of a man tearing her clothes from her body because he desired her so greatly made her body shiver. She bit her lip, reaching for one of the long, black see-through nighties and slipping her fingers against the fabric.

Live a little, Emma.

“Oh, that one is perfect for your light skin. Hell, I’d do you in that. Remember 9th grade?” Her eyebrow rose and Emma blushed.

She slapped Ruby on the shoulder. “Hey, we said we’d never talk about that again.”

“Try it on.” Belle giggled, taking a swig of one of the beers from the cooler.

Emma peeled off her shirt, unclasping her bra and tossing them to the side of the blanket, she dragged the black lace over her head and slipped her arms through the hole. Standing up she slid her yoga pants down her legs and spun around. “Well?”

“You can’t wear those ridiculous boy shorts under it. You have to take them off, Em.”

Emma groaned. “Fine. But take these pictures quickly. I don’t want anyone else to see me.” She tucked her thumbs into her underwear and quickly dragged them down her legs, tossing them with the rest of her clothes and walking toward the top of the waterfall.

“Now what?” She turned back to her friends who were following her with Belle’s Nikon camera.

“Sit on that rock.” Ruby pointed toward the water.

“That’s in the middle of the creek bed. I don’t want to get wet.”

“But it has the best view. The water isn’t even that deep.” Ruby kicked off her sandal and stood in the shallow water. “Besides, the pictures will look so amazing with the backdrop.” Emma looked at where the waterfall slid over the side of the mountain. The view was almost ethereal. Even if Walsh didn’t like the pictures, Emma had never felt more beautiful standing in the cool water, the black silk material swirling around her in the stream.

She tiptoed out into the center of the creek bed, sitting down onto the large rock in the center and pulling the wet material up over her legs. The rock was slippery and cold against her flesh. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this.

“Ok now you have to pose.” Belle laughed, trying not to fall in the water as Ruby crept closer to her with the camera pointed toward her.

“I don’t have the first idea how to do this.” She groaned.

“Just act natural.” Ruby began snapping pictures, moving around the angles carefully as Emma tried to casually move around the rock. She had no idea how to be sexy.

“I said natural, you’re trying too hard.”

“Ugh, Rubes, maybe this is a bad idea, sexy just isn’t in my nature.”

“Are you kidding, look at you, naked, sitting on a rock in the middle of nowhere. You are sexy.” She continued to click the button, even as she spoke, and Emma finally sighed.

“Ok, be sexy.” She whispered to herself, leaning backwards on the rock to push her lips into a pout for the camera.

“There you go, make him want it.” Ruby cheered.

Emma lifted her arms over her head, looking backwards at the sun above her. Suddenly the rock beneath her shifted, rolling backwards as Emma slid toward the water. She grasped for the rock, or anything to stop her forward momentum as she raced toward the end of the cliff. She looked back toward her friends as she went under a swell of water at the apex of the cliff, gulping as she swallowed and choked. Her nails scratched the nearby rocks, trying to get a grip on the rough surface.

The water seemed to get deeper and faster, and she was getting turned around, her eyes sought the sky, then she was under water, gulping, screaming, watching as the edge of the cliff came closer and closer, until she hit something hard, and everything went black.