#i guess i could skip ahead to when she's already naked but i want to savor this

[waitineedaname]

do any femmes follow me. can you guys help me come up with mobei-jun's outfit

[harryspet]

his to claim | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader, a/b/o dynamics, werewolf au, fury!reader, monica is a fury too, sam wilson x monica, virgin!innocent!reader, hint of ddlg dynamic, noncon sex, noncon marking, soulmates au, oral sex (female recieving), kidnapping

A/N: enjoy this long (long for me at least) one-shot! 

In which you befriend a lonely Alpha.

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything​ @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011​ @visintaes​  @watercoolerpaint​ @disaster-rose​ @slutforsebstan

main masterlist

word count: 5.8k 

Sam knew Bucky was in one of his moods. One of his moods where he’d disappear for five days, not give a clue to where he was going, and return covered in blood. Although Bucky’s closest friend and Beta to his pack, Sam, was getting married this week, Bucky was stuck in his ways. Bucky knew that a wedding meant that another pack would be invading his land, filling the pack house with strangers, and two packs meant there would be two Alphas. Although he respected Alpha Fury, Bucky wasn’t the type to get along nicely with others, especially other Alphas. 

It was one in the morning when the white wolf passed through the tree line, the packhouse coming into view. The three-story cabin fit many of the high-ranking families and was the center of most pack activities. Meetings, gatherings, and celebrations for the Winter’s Shield pack were all held here. 

Bucky shifted, each one of his bones cracking roughly back into place as if they’d forgotten they were half-human. As he expected, there was a pair of shorts waiting for him on the porch. Nat always hated when he’d show up naked in the middle of the night. This is my house, he’d say. Save it for your mate, she’d say back. Bucky would always scoff at that. Not many Alphas make it to their thirties without a mate and Bucky was quite willing to keep his single streak going. 

The house was heated, comforting him after losing the warmth of his coat. Still, he was covered in elk blood and could use a shower along with a twelve-hour nap. He walked towards the winding stairs, only to hear rumbling in the kitchen, and deciding to investigate. He was the only night owl around here, or at least that’s what he thought. 

He could already smell that there were foreigners around and prayed this week would go by fast. Flicking on the kitchen light, he found you sitting on the island counter. You looked up from your carton of chocolate ice cream with wide eyes. He expected you to freak out at the sight of him but it seemed you were more embarrassed on your behalf rather than frightened. 

“Sorry … I was just gonna have one bowl and then that turned into two. And then  …” You emphasized the spoon that was sitting in the mostly eaten carton. Omega, his wolf said. There was a strange omega sitting on his kitchen counter in oversized pajamas and hair rollers. His eyes fell to something sitting behind her which she instantly pushed further behind her back in panic, “There’s a little left if you want some.”

“Who are you?” Bucky asked, a little more harshly than he intended. 

“Y/N,” You answered, a bit flustered, “I’m Monica’s sister … also her maid of honor. I know there isn’t usually a maid of honor in our wedding ceremonies but there’s always a maid of honor in the movies. I’m gonna throw her such a cool bachelorette party, Natasha said we could have it in the living room-”

Bucky felt suffocated by your excitement. Feeling overwhelmed by the bright lights and whatever his wolf was feeling for you, he said, “Stop,” He raised a hand, confused by your comfortableness with the situation. You talked to him, an Alpha, so casually and you didn’t seem at all frightened by his bloody appearance,  “Do you know who I am?”’

“Alpha Barnes,” You hopped down from the counter, making sure to keep whatever you were hiding behind your back, “Sam said you’d be back at some point. They made a bet on whether or not you’d get back before or after my dad left. Everyone said you’d skip the wedding.” 

Alpha Fury’s second daughter. An Omega. An annoying, little, ice-cream stealing Omega. 

“Well here I am,” Bucky stepped closer to you and was surprised when you didn’t even blink at that. An omega raised by an Alpha, you were something Bucky had never encountered, “Why are you raiding my kitchen so late at night, Omega.”

There was a flash of sadness in your eyes, “I had a nightmare … ice cream always makes me feel better. You ever get nightmares, Alpha Barnes?” Bucky’s brows furrowed. 

“No,” Bucky spoke coldy, confused about what was pulling him closer to you. 

“Nuh-uh, no way,” Bucky thought you were challenging him but there was an innocent smile on your face, “My Dad said you’ve fought in lots of battles, challenged a lot of other Alphas, you must see a lot of terrible stuff. You never even get a little bit scared?”

Bucky ignored your pressing question, the look on his face frustrated, “What’s behind your back?”

“Uhm … what’s behind yours?” You tried distracting him but Bucky knew there was nothing behind him. 

“Show me,” He commanded, knowing that Omega inside of you wouldn’t want to disobey him. 

You huffed. 

Stupid alphas, Bucky heard your voice but your lips didn’t move. 

You pulled an old, stuffed bear from behind your back, “It’s Mr. Cuddlebear …. he also helps with the nightmares,” In his eyes, you were definitely too old to have a stuffed animal but his wolf found it endearing. He hated that, “You never got scared even when you were a little? No monsters under the bed? Boogeyman in the closet?”

“It’s late,” Bucky changed the subject, “I’m sure we have a long week ahead of us. I’d take … that-”

“Mr. Cuddlebear,” You interrupted, reminding him of your teddy bear’s name. 

“Go to bed, little wolf.”

Stupid Alpha voice. 

You rolled your eyes as your feet began to move before your brain began to register, “Goodnight, Alpha Barnes,” You left the kitchen, carrying the teddy bear with you, “Sleep tight, don’t let the vampires bite.” He heard your little giggle as you climbed up the stairs. 

Bucky placed his hands on the counter, staring at the ice cream. Did he ever have nightmares? No one had ever asked him that before. 

Bucky cleaned up nice, you thought as you looked at him across the room. No one expected him to even come, let alone put on a nice suit jacket. The rehearsal dinner was loud with both Winter’s Shield and the Daystar pack mingling together for the first time. Sam seemed to be having the time of his life, your father was being much lighter than usual, and Monica was …. well, Monica. 

You were talking with a bunch of people, giving out the sugar cookies you’d made when you made eye contact with him. He drank from his glass of wine and you noticed he was standing with Sam and Monica. She was in the prettiest yellow dress and you could tell Sam was happy to find a mate so beautiful. 

You’d looked away, focusing on meeting everyone when Monica started to walk towards you. 

“Stay away from him, please,” She stepped in front of you.

“Stay away from who?”

“Alpha Barnes,” She spoke lowly. 

“He’ll be your Alpha soon, you know.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“I already met him, Monica,” You smiled, “He was nice to me in like a weird, cold way.”

She shook her head, your words seeming to worry her more, “That’s what I’m worried about,” She grabbed your hand, leading you away to one of the tables in the corner. You had a plate of sugar cookies in your hands, some you’d made especially for the party to give out, “You have a tendency to make people like you but you don’t want him to like you, trust me. All that stuff Daddy taught us still stands, it doesn’t matter that we know him now. So just sit here, and do nothing, please.”

“But what about my cookies? I have to give them out!” You whined as she fenced you in, forcing you to sit down.

“I’ll do it,” She smiled, taking the plate from your hands, “You’ve socialized enough I think so just … relax.”

“But-” She was already walking away. You loved your sister, she was your best friend, but she was still a Beta. She had no idea what it was like to be you, surrounded by jerks who thought they were better than you. Maybe that’s why you liked talking with people so much, to prove that maybe you were more fragile than them but you weren’t invisible. Right now, you felt invisible. 

You could only watch everyone have fun without you for so long and you got out of the seat about ten minutes later. You left the large white tent, where it was much cooler, and you didn’t mind being alone as much. 

You told yourself to cheer up, trying not to frown. A week from now, you’ll be home, you’ll be on house arrest again but without Monica. You were going to savor this small vacation no matter the obstacles. 

Bucky found you outside sitting in the grass as you stared up at the moon. He got that feeling again, his wolf wanting to be closer to yours, and wished he felt differently. You looked back at him as you felt him approaching, and you heard Monica’s voice in your head telling you to stay away. 

“Did you try my cookies?” Your lips pulled into a smile that, like everything about you, confused him. 

“I didn’t … I watched Sam eat six of them though,” The tall Alpha responded, sticking his hands into his pants pocket. 

“Watching your perfect, Alpha-physique?”

Bucky actually felt the need to smile though he kept himself controlled, “Something of that nature, yes.”

“Awe, a few cookies won’t hurt,” You stood up from the ground, dusting off your dress. Bucky noticed your mary jane’s and the little butterfly clips in your curls, “Let me guess, you only prey on innocent animals.”

The Alpha smirked, “I’ll make sure to try your cookies next time, little wolf.”

“Sadly, there won’t be a next time,” You stepped past him and he followed after you, as you walked towards the tree line, “My father will probably find me a mate that lives across the country so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Both Monica and Fury wanted to make it clear to him that you were practically claimed. You didn’t know yet but Peter Parker of the Stark pack was waiting for you. Fury was planning a quick, summer wedding, “I can’t imagine the poor fool who will have to deal with your kitchen raids and Mr. Cuddlebear.”

You grinned, “You remembered his name?” Bucky remembered and he’d been watching you ever since that late night, “I thought you might laugh at me, Monica does.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment and, as you looked at him, it seemed that his mind was racing with thoughts, “I’ve had nightmares before,” He stated and you waited for him to elaborate. 

“What happened in them?” You prodded softly. 

Another long pause, “When was the last time you shifted?”

You figured that’s all you were going to get out of him. You thought for a moment, “I can’t even remember. Not since the winter solstice at least.”

“Let’s go on a run,” Bucky said, not waiting for you to agree. He picked up his pace, walking past the tree line and expecting you to follow. You hurried after him, your heart suddenly beginning to pound in your chest. 

“Alpha Bucky, Monica will kill me. Literally. She threw a hairdryer at me once,” You said, sounding panicked, though you got deeper and deeper into the woods, “And what about my dress?”

He turned around suddenly and you almost ran into his broad chest, “Take it off,” He ordered. Your hand instinctively reached up to the strap and you panicked, “Go behind a tree, I mean.”

“But Monica-”

“You’re an adult, right?”

You shrugged, “I try to be-”

“Then you can decide. Besides that, I’ll be Monica’s Alpha soon enough.”

You imagined her throwing a fit but you still conceded, walking to find a tree to hide behind, “It might take me a second, I think I’m a shy shifter.”

“Take your time, little wolf,” His words were more comforting than you expected. 

You stripped from your clothes behind the tree, trying not to imagine what Monica would think of you. An unmated female getting naked in the forest with an unmated male in the middle of the forest? There were all types of moral codes you had to be breaking. 

Standing in the cold, you shut your eyes tightly. Monica taught you the counting method when you were younger. You tried to tune out the rest of your thoughts, focusing on the nature around you, as you counted down from ten over and over again. It was instinct after that, the Moon Goddess taking over and unleashing your inner wolf. You didn’t feel the pain as your bones molded into their new positions and you became the second version of yourself. 

When you stepped from behind the tree, the white wolf was towering over your small, grey figure. 

His head tilted down towards you and you could already tell his wolf wanted to be more friendly with you than his human self. He smelled you, biting at your neck but you were even more playful in wolf form. You walked between his legs, confusing him, until you ran in the opposite direction. He chased after you and you didn’t expect to outrun him but you planned to give him a run for his money. 

He couldn’t sleep with you so close by. He tried going on another run to clear his head but his mind was full with you. He’d lived a long life yet this feeling in his soul was brand new. Never had Bucky desired anyone to be anything but a casual fling. His wolf wanted more than to just conquer you which was territory Bucky found hard to navigate. What would it say for his legacy if he took an Omega as his mate? How empty would he feel if he let you go tomorrow? What relationships would he throw away in order to claim you as his?

Covered in sweat, he pulled the sheets from his body, sitting up in his bed. 

Nightmare, his wolf echoed in his mind. Bucky rubbed his temples. That wasn’t a nightmare to him, he was just an overthinking mess. He was going to ignore that feeling until he sensed something was truly wrong. 

She dreams of pain and suffering.  

Go to her. 

Bucky stood up from his bed, filing out of his room, and down the long hallways of the packhouse. He pressed his ear to your door, his hand lightly touching the doorknob. He heard soft whimpers from the inside and, for a moment, he resisted you. He would turn around and try to go back to sleep. Instead, his wolf took control. 

Bucky opened the door, your whimpering continuing and you stirred although it wasn’t because of him. He closed the door gently, moving towards your bed, crossing a boundary that he was sure would be frowned upon. Your cheeks were stained with tears and you seemed to be grabbing Mr. Cuddlebear for dear life. 

He sat carefully at the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch you, “Y/N,” He whispered, trying to suppress the anger that he felt over the pain you were in. 

“No, no,” You whispered over and over again. 

“Little wolf,” He whispered again, his hand on your arm. The Alpha’s touch startled you out of your sleep and your eyes were wide with fear as you came back to consciousness. You weren’t sure why he was in your room or why your nightmares were getting so bad, “It’s just a bad dream-”

You sat up from your position and wrapped your arms around the Alpha. He seemed to freeze at your touch but you hugged him tighter for comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, his hand tentatively rubbing at your back and you heavily breathed against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I just … you were crying.”

“I-I woke you up?”

“No,” Bucky lied, “I was just walking by and I heard you.”

“Alpha Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Everything’s going to change tomorrow. My wolf, she senses something bad coming, and she’s scared.”

Bucky stiffened again, his wolf beginning to worry.  “Something bad? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know but the dreams are getting worse.”

“What do you see in your dreams?”

“I’m … I’m walking in his field, there’s so much sunshine and flowers a-and I’m walking towards the sun. I’m walking and walking and I’m happy and then I just start to sink into the ground. And I’m drowning and it feels like someone is holding me, pulling down further and further. I can’t breathe and there’s just this darkness a-and I-I-”

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you, sensing you were about to hyperventilate,  “It’s okay. Nothing is going to take you away. No one, do you understand?”

He felt you nodding and he grabbed you tighter, deciding he was going to hold you for as long as you needed him to. 

“I didn’t tell you because of this reason-”

The pen in Bucky’s hand snapped in half and his fists balled up tightly, “Sam, today is your wedding, I understand that but this is my territory. I decide who comes in and out of it. That’s final.”

“They’re already here-”

“Then send them away. Fury is trying to push me and this is the final straw.”

“He’s already married the first daughter off, he’s just trying to do the same with Y/N. And he knows that this is a chance for three alphas to sit down and discuss what we’re going to do about the rogue situation.”

Feeling that he was drawing blood from clenching his fist so hard, he moved them under his desk.  “I can handle problems that concern my own pack. Tony is even more arrogant than Fury, we’ll never agree.”

“You have to at least try, Alpha,” Sam sighed, “You haven’t found one woman you’d consider having little Buckys with. Maybe Stark will bring someone that will pique your interest?”

Bucky ignored him, “When Stark arrives-” Sam let out a triumphant cheer, “-Bring him and Fury to my office. I won’t need you here, I’m sure you’ll have much to prepare for this evening.”

“You won't regret this.”

Bucky followed Peter’s line of sight. There you were, standing in a beautiful periwinkle dress, waiting for your sister to walk down the aisle and join an anxious Sam. The birds were singing, a violin was being played, and everyone was collectively ready to celebrate the joyous moment. Everyone except Bucky.

Of course, Peter wanted to look at you, a beautiful creature, an unmated female, he'd be lucky to call you his mate. He was young like you, he'd be able to get all your references, keep up with your energetic ramblings, you'd get to go far away from your father and you'd be so happy. You'd forget all about Monica. You’d forget all about the week you spend in Winter’s Shield. 

The wedding went off without a hitch and Bucky watched you have the time of your life. Peter targeted you, of course, that was the entire reason was her, to woo you and it was working. You were dancing together, laughing when Peter made a silly misstep.

Bucky shooed away every Stark girl who tried to approach him, even denying a Beta, until he was standing alone in the corner. 

The festivities calmed down late into the night, you had to say goodbye to Peter, Monica was whisked away to a “private cabin” and everyone else returned to their rooms. Your father reminded you to pack your things as you’d be leaving early in the morning. 

Looking at Mr. Cuddlebear sitting on your bed, you were reminded of the events of last night. You didn’t expect so much kindness from the cold Alpha but, as Monica warned you, he seemed to like you. You still thought she was being dramatic with her warning and that she would grow to like her new Alpha. 

You never did really get to thank him and he also never tried your cookies. You had an amazing idea and late-night baking always led to amazing things. 

Bucky was pacing the length of his room when there was a knock at his door. His wolf knew instantly that it was with you like the Moon Goddess had answered his prayers. He was fighting every natural urge in his body and he planned to hide away until everyone was gone tomorrow. Now, he had no idea what he was going to do. 

When Bucky opened the door, you were standing with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, and a kind smile on your face, “A thank you for last night,” You offered, “I figured you’d like a plain chocolate chip cookie. I’m not sure though-”

“Come in,” Bucky said quickly, closing the door behind you. You noted that he was still wearing his dress pants though he was only wearing a sleeveless undershirt at his top. Though you’d seen him shirtless before, this time felt more intimate. 

“Try one,” You insisted, “Please.”

Bucky was hesitant, his diet not usually including such human pleasures, but he was quite surprised with the first bite. You seemed nervous, expecting a good reaction which Bucky found adorable, “They’re good,” Bucky nodded, “I mean, they’re great. Here, come sit down.”

As you took a seat on the edge of the giant bed, Bucky grabbed the glass and plate from your hands, moving to set it on the nightstand, “Your room is … big.”

You grew a bit nervous as the bed dipped beside you and Bucky took a seat. You always felt his strong energy, even last night, but now it was a bit overpowering. You blamed it on the approaching full moon and tried to ignore it, “You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I like it. It’s … simple,” Bucky tried his best to register your mood. Were you nervous? That was the last feeling he expected to feel from you. You were always rambling or talking about something you were annoyingly passionate about. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, his head turned to you. 

You didn’t answer him, “What do you know about the Stark pack?”

Bucky’s hands folded together and his jaw clenched as reality set in, “I sense you know of your father’s plans.”

“I had a suspicion,” You sighed.

“And … you’re unhappy with his decision?” 

You were quiet for a moment, “What if it isn’t a good idea?”

“I’m sure … I’m sure your father wouldn’t lead you astray. The man infuriates me but he’s usually quite wise …”

“You’re right …” You said, staring back at the Alpha who seemed to be experiencing a whirlwind of emotions behind his eyes, “My nightmares, they just make me nervous for the future-”

“You could stay,” Bucky stated quickly, sure of himself. His hand touched your thigh and your eyes began to widen, “With me, I mean. And, of course, Monica would be here too.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You don’t mean … I’m an Omega, Alpha Bucky.”

A thin smile pulled at his lips, “I’ve noticed that, yes. Believe me, my offer does not come from a place of ignorance. I’ve been thinking about this, I promise, and it could be good for both of us. You could stay near your sister and I could …”

It took everything in you to push away from that bed, “My Dad would be livid. Beyond livid, actually. And Peter. The treaty. It would throw everything off balance, Alpha Bucky.” He stood, his shadow draping over you as you took a hesitant step back. 

“Who needs balance if there is a connection here. My wolf feels yours, they’re drawn to each other, I know you can sense that.”

“Bucky-”

“Listen, little wolf, please,” He insisted, stepping closer, “I’ve never been sure before, not in my entire life. This, I am sure about.”

You shook your head, “Well, I am not,” Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken, “I like you and there’s a connection, yes, but as my father’s daughter, I have responsibilities. I respect him too much to go behind his back. You have to understand that.” 

“You came here tonight. That night in the forest. You didn’t know it but you called me to your room last night. What am I supposed to make of your advances-”

“Advances? I thought you were a friend-”

“Stop,” He commanded, leaving your body frigid from the power of his voice, “Don’t move.”

He took your face into his hands and you whimpered, “Bucky, I gave you the wrong impression.”

“No, you may not know it yet but this is what your wolf wants. We’re animals, underneath it all, and there’s only so much we can control our own desires,” You pushed against his chest when he smashed his lips on yours. You bit down on your bottom lip, wishing your feet would push you further away from him. When he pulled away, he was grinning, blood on his lips, “Biting, huh? I’m happy to play along with your game.”

You opened your mouth but he was too quick, “Don’t scream, little wolf. The screaming is the next part.”

His hands move to your waist, pulling you into his muscular body. He kissed you again, kissing the sides of your mouth and chin.  Your hands pulled into small fists as he held you, his touch sending foreign feelings through your body. You felt an overwhelming warmth, more than his body heat, but the warmth of the bond his own wolf felt for yours. His mouth met with your neck and that's when your lips parted and moans escaped your lips. 

“Please,” Was all you could manage. “Please stop.”

Your mouth was saying one thing but it was clear to him that you enjoyed his touch, “Don’t think of me like the bad guy, Omega. When I’m your Alpha, I won’t be like Fury. I’ll let you be who you are, you won’t be just an object to pawn off for power. You’ll be my Omega but you’ll stand beside me, not behind. You’ll be happy with me. I can take the nightmares aways, remember?”

“No, no,” You resisted, knowing deep down that he was that darkness in your dream. You were right to be scared but you hadn’t suspected that you should be scared of me, “M-My father will challenge you a-and you’ll lose any respect you once had.”

He grabbed you roughly by your chin, his forehead pressed against yours as he held your body, “I’ve never cared much for puritanical pack society … why should I care now, Omega?”

You sniffled, “Because you care about me?”

“You’re young, little wolf. I don’t expect you to fully understand but it's because I care that I have to do this. It will only hurt for a little while, okay?” He wasn’t asking for permission and as he pulled his face from yours, his eyes went black, and you were already screaming as his sharp canines protruded from his mouth. 

He pulled your head to the side, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. As you collapsed, he kept you in his arms, and you both went down to your knees. It was an indescribable pain, paralyzing, until it wasn’t. Your vision blurred as it felt like the strongest drug rushed through your body. It was not the way you imagined you’d be marked, you surely weren’t in love, and the man who’d claimed you was unhinged. 

As you slipped into the darkness, you heard someone screaming your name. You felt a little hope that you’d be saved but you couldn’t hold on longer. 

You grabbed your shoulder instantly as your eyes shot open, roughly pulling yourself from slumber. You winced, your hand running over the bandaged skin, as you realized the magnitude of the situation. Taking a moment to look around your surroundings, you found that you were somewhere that you didn’t recognize. 

It was a small, one-room cabin, the living room, kitchen and the bed you were on were all in the same room. A tear slipped down your face as you threw your legs over the side of the bed. Your legs were bare, your bridesmaid dress gone, and a large t-shirt was the only thing that you were wearing. He’d undressed you all the way and had no problem with it, probably due to the fact that he’d bonded you together for life. 

He’d even made sure to bring Mr. Cuddlebear along though you weren’t sure anything could calm you now. 

As you were about to push yourself off the bed, the cabin door opened, and a shirtless, freshly-shifted Bucky appeared. He took one look at you and his jaw clenched. 

“W-Where are we?”

“Couple miles off of my territory,” He stated, shutting the door and walking to the kitchen. As he turned his back, you got up from the bed, moving cautiously towards the fireplace which was closer to the door, “So no one can bother us.”

“My Father, where is he? How did you … without him knowing …” 

He reached into the cabinet, grabbing a glass to fill with tap water. You were eyeing the door, wondering if he was just pretending to be distracted by his task, “Oh, he knew,” Bucky chuckled, “He was livid, like you said, but he couldn’t do anything. He can’t touch you anymore now that you’re bitten. No one can.”

Your face fell, “But-” Bucky turned around and it hit you. The bite reshaped your chemistry and now any Alpha wouldn’t be able to get near you until you were fully mated. Alpha Fury wasn’t coming for you. 

But Monica-

“Monica isn’t coming either, little wolf. Remember, I’m her Alpha now too,” Bucky moved forward, the glass in hand, “You should drink, you lost a good amount of blood.”

You stepped to the side, moving away as he approached, “You knew you’d only hurt me, even when I thought you were my friend.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he moved closer, “I know that’s how you feel now-” You climbed onto the couch and over it as he moved closer, “Y/N, come here. Now.” You eyed the door, now closer to it than he was. 

“You’re a monster.”

“Little mate, if you continue to not listen to me, I’m going to come over there, throw you over my shoulder, and tie you down to that bed for the next few days because that's just the type of mood I’m in right now.”

“I’ll never. Be. Your mate-”

 The sound of breaking glass made you jump and you watched the cup crumble in his grasp. Almost falling, you made a sprint for the door. As soon as you’d gotten it open, a hand was above you, slamming it closed. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back towards the bed. 

He pushed you down onto it, making sure not to put any pressure on your bite, before climbing on top of you. He pinned down your kicking legs, saying, “You’ll hurt yourself, little mate,” He tried to console you, shushing you as you began to whimper, “Please don’t fight it anymore…” But you panicked even more as he lifted your shirt. 

He gripped your thighs tightly, pulling your exposed sex to his mouth. One hand you could barely move because of the bite, the other gripped the comforter tightly, as he kissed between your thighs. Of course you’d never been touched so Bucky would be as gentle as he could manage. He also knew that your new bite would heighten every feeling he gave you and it wasn’t long before you’d be a mewling mess. 

You thought that maybe you’d gone into heat, that’s why his touch felt so good, but you were very wrong. You could only imagine what it would feel like when your body craved to be pregnant. He cooled your fire, and within thirty seconds you were already having your first orgasm. He kept his mouth on you as you rode out the pleasure, not letting you take any breaks as he began to kiss up your body, moving the shirt further and further up your body. 

He kissed over your mark which sent waves of pleasure through you, making him growl, “You’re mine, little mate,” Then he kissed your lips as you moaned against them. As he positioned himself between your legs, you knew what was coming. 

“Bucky, please. I-I’m scared.”

“It’ll hurt just for a little while,” He assured you, reaching above you to grab Mr. Cuddlebear, “Hold on to your bear, little wolf.”

You held the stuffed bear tightly against your chest as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel how big he was even as you tried to avoid eye contact with him. Looking away didn’t last long as he grabbed your chin, making sure he could see your face as he slid each inch inside of you. He stretched you open, taking the air from your lungs, as you tried to adjust to the feeling. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” He grunted, leaning down to kiss your chin. He’d slowly pull in and out of you, letting you get used to him. He kissed over your mark again, easing the pain, and turning your whimpers into moans, “Good girl, my good girl.”

“Please,” You started to wish for him to push you over the edge, to give you another orgasm, not for him to let you go. He kissed you, using his hand to rub your sensitive bulb as he pushed in and out of you, “Please, please - ah!”

Your back arched and your senses were delighted as an orgasm ripped through you. He didn’t slow, speeding up his pace, as he went back to kissing over your bite. He reached below you, pulling you further down onto his member. He was animalistic, every natural instinct in his body telling him to pleasure you until you couldn’t walk anymore and to round your belly. 

You came again, this time at the same time as him, your bodies melting together as he released within you. As he laid against you, catching his breath, you could see the setting sun shining through the window. He wasn’t anything like you feared and maybe that's why you trusted him so easily.

“You’ll be happy with me one day, I promise,” He kissed your wet cheeks. 

Part of you hoped you could trust him again because, after all, that mark was forever.

[hoodieofholland]

request: trying 69 with Tom ?? 🖤

A/n: excuse me, i loved the idea! Really fun to write, i went all the way from fluffy to filthy and fluffy again, lol, anywaysss. It got quite long, hope you like it!

Pairing: boyfriend!tom x female reader

Warnings: smut (minors dni); extended warnings bellow the cut.

Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts on this!!

+warnings: oral (f and m receiving, 69 basically); fingering (f receiving), dirty talk.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Tom grabs the smooth flesh of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, while you keep working your lips over the sensitive spot on his neck, right bellow his ear. You hear a choked groan coming out of his lips.

"Baby-", he bites his lips, almost losing his thoughts when you grind over his crotch. "Baby, can't get marks"

His protests are weak, and you know very well he's pondering between the pleasure you're giving and his commitment with work; Tom had already warned you that he couldn't get any marks on his skin right now, as the shooting for Spider-Man was still going on.

You smile apologetically.

"Sorry, Tommy", you press a tender kiss over the spot and raise your head to look at him. "Just missed you. Been aching to get my mouth on you." You brush your nose against his, closing your eyes as you just feel the proximity between the two of you. "It's been a time."

You and Tom have had a hard time trying to conciliate both schedules, with his filming and your work, and that was the first weekend both of you got some time off to enjoy the company of each other. Obviously, you agreed on skip the movie and cuddles you both used to enjoy the time alone to relieve the need of touching you two had grown since three weeks ago.

"Yeah?", Tom enjoys the sensation of your tenderness, among the sensuality of your hips swirling slowly over his lap. He feels the pure bliss while closing his eyes and bringing his lips to grave over yours, pecking every then and now. "Missed you too, darling. So, so much".

You tease him, hands going down his torso until reached the waistband of his boxers. "Gonna show me?", you smirk, finger lingering around the fabric.

Tom smiles, grabbing you by the waist and in a skilled movement, flipping your positions. Under his toned body, you have to catch your breath, hands sliding down the sides of his torso whilst bringing him closer.

"Wanna feel close to you, baby", he murmurs, eyes focused on yours. "Show you how much I appreciate you", he releases a quiet pleased sigh as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his lower half closer to you. "Just wanna take it slow tonight, y'know".

You smile at his sweetness, though you knew you had other plans running through your mind.

Tom drops his head down to kiss the space between your boobs, his lips tracing a wet path on your skin. You tug your hands on his hair, feeling the soft curls.

You bite your lips, remembering the thoughts you had about something you wanted to try with him just a couple of days ago. It came out from a not so innocent chat you had with one of your closest friends, who asked if you have ever done sixty-nine before. You thought to yourself it wasn't a big deal that you haven't, as you always imagined the position a bit messy and uncomfortable for both of partners, but then she made it pretty clear that your fears were making you lose something you might quite enjoy.

So there were you, thinking how you'd bring it up with Tom, when he was already so close to your core. You squirmed a bit, sucking on your lower lip nervously.

"Tom?" Your voice comes out as a whisper, and Tom doesn't take his mouth away from your skin, lips hovering over your hips as his tongue licked on it. He hums, giving vibrations that tickled you, making you giggle a bit. "Can- uh, can we try something?"

He stops the moves of his tongue, looking up at you, lips pursed in a mischievous smirk. "You wanna try something?", he asks and you nod sheepishly. "And what is it?"

His mouth goes back to work on your skin, but his eyes didn't leave yours. He was working you up, teasing you, and you could feel and arousal between your legs grow with every light bite of his on your belly.

"I was thinking..." you suck in a breath. "I could give you a blowjob..."

"I like the sound of that", he smirks playfully and you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. He laughs. "Go ahead".

"As I was saying", you sigh quietly and readjust your body in bed, propping your elbows on the mattress to lift your back. "I give you a blow, while- well, while you eat me out".

Tom stops on his tracks again, but the mischievous smile wasn't plastered on his face anymore. If anything, he looked surprised, taken aback by the sudden propose.

"You mean, you wanna do the 69?" He asks, sounding baffled, but it quickly changes into an eager manner. "Hell, yes".

You blink a few times and sigh in relieve. You and Tom were always up to new things, and you had promised each other that whenever one of you felt like trying something new, you'd always be open and talk about it. However, it got into your nerves anyways.

Tom made his way back to meet your face, kissing you fervently.

"And what about the go slow thing?" You pant, amused by the way he seemed to change his mind.

"Yeah, yeah, we can have it later", he is quick to dismiss. "Right now, I just wanna a little taste of you".

You nod eagerly, pretty much satisfied with how quick he has agreed with you. Hands tangled in his curls, you watch as he goes down on you again, much faster now, until reaching your panties. Tom taps the sides of your hips, and you lift it to help him get the piece of cloth off.

"Shit, darling" he eyes your glistening center, head dropping to get closer. "Can't wait to put my mouth on this sweet pussy".

Tom doesn't seem to contain himself as he licks a long strip of your heat, making you whimper.

"Not fair", you say while pulling him away from your core. "C'mon, don't get me distracted".

He chuckles before kneeling down on bed, taking his boxers out. "I don't think I could. You look very determined".

When he's fully naked, you give him space to lay on bed, a smirk proudly hanging on his face.

"C'me here, suit yourself" he pats his rigid thighs with both hands, and you can't help but laugh at how comfortable he's with it.

You make your way to sit on his lap, gasping lightly at the contact of his thigh with your exposed pussy.

"Have you ever done this before? You don't look... nervous or anything", you ask timidly, holding on hands Tom gave you for support.

He smiles softly. "Have never. It's just that I'm excited whenever we're trying something different. I like that you trust me enough for this".

You blush and bite your lip to hide a smile.

"Me too, Tommy".

He rubs your hips with affection and look at you in awe. "Good. But now, love, I think you're facing the wrong side".

You roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing a bit. "I know, dork".

You reposition yourself, sitting on Tom's abs, feeling a little nervous while you face his hard cock. It's a beautiful sight, the outlined veins, the red tip almost as a claim for you to give him some sort of satisfaction and you sigh to try to relax your nerves.

Tom holds your hips and help you to adjust, which ends up creating a great friction between his toned abs and your cunt, making you release a low moan.

"Fuck, the view I have right now... You wouldn't believe", he says and you clench around nothing. You can now hear the smirk on his face. "You like it, don't you, darling? Such a dirty girl. Come here, need you a little closer"

You turn your head back to do as you were told and feel the heat on your cheeks once you see the hungry look on Tom's face. "Just like that", he squeezes your butt, giving a light kiss on one cheek. "Is it alright, love?"

You take in a shaky breath and nod.

"Do you wanna me to start?" He asks sweetly, worry in his voice. You can tell he's trying to catch any kind of discomfort in you, if you're still willing to do so. "If you don't want to, we can stop-"

"No", you shake your head firmly. "I want it. Just a bit nervous, I guess".

He gives you a reassurance smile and rubs his thumb over your hips. "It's okay, love. But if you feel like you are not enjoying it, just use the safe-word, alright? I'll stop".

You smile back at him and nod. You shouldn't be nervous. It was Tom, after all, and you always feel so safe and comfortable around him. So you turn your head again, focused on calming your nerves down. Looking at his hard, you realised it was just a matter of doing what you always did - and liked pretty much doing. You lowered your head and licked your lips, giving his tip a light kiss as to tease him a bit.

You feel Tom squirm under you at the minimum contact, his cock twisting in expectation.

"Fuck, y/n", he breaths out, "Shit, it's going to be hard to focus".

You giggle and try to lick a long line from his base to the tip, which made him curse.

"Alright, you wanna play", you could hear the smirk once more and jolted when felt the wetness of his hot tongue flat against your core.

"Fuck, Tom", you moan, hiding your hips back to earn more friction. You loved his tongue, you loved just how he always knew what he was doing with it and how he knew to tease you, making you ask for more.

His tongue invades you, collecting your wetness before pushing in and out of you in a quick and steady pace. It feels firm and thick inside of you and your eyes roll back to the pleasure.

"Thought it was supposed to be both of us at the same time, darling", he teases at your lack of action, sucking on your lips harshly, "Guess it's not just as simple, is it?"

You gasp before snapping yourself back to reality. You wanted to take that smug attitude out of him as much as you wanted to take him on your mouth, so you focus on your work.

Taking his cock on your hand, you pump it a few times before putting a small length on your mouth, opening it wider. Adjusting your jaw, you took what you could get from him, tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck, fuck", he pants, hips jerking up to your mouth. "Perfect mouth, you have. God-"

You smile proudly with he still on your mouth, moaning around him when he kitten licks your clit.

You bob your head up and down, eyes tearing up with the effort, but still pleased as you felt Tom burying his face on your heat, as concentrated to get you off.

In a matter of minutos, both of you were a mess on the bed, pants and moans loud enough to make one another go further, deeper, faster. Your jaw hurt with the intensity of your movements, but you couldn't care less. It was pure bliss, the way your walls clenched around Tom's tongue, and the way the would throb on your mouth, drool rolling down your chin.

You noticed that your thoughts on the new position were right, it wasn't the most comfortable one, and it was certainly messy, as one of you would always end up jerking hips or have your faces covered in each other's arousal. But it was good - none of that mattered, cause it felt good to have Tom on this position, and turned you on to imagine he was doing all of that with your cunt and you couldn't even watch it.

When you felt the pressure building on your belly, you took him out of your mouth, replacing it with your hand. "'M close".

"Yeah?" He shook his head rapidly on your folds, tongue out, and you moaned his name. "Come for me, baby. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue".

You try to focus on his release as the feeling was taking over you. It was hard, but you put your mouth around him again, sucking him off.

"Fuck, darling, gonna come on your mouth", he pants, hips jerking while his fingers entered your hole to stimulate you more. "C'mon, pretty. Yeah, that's it, love, give it to me"

"Tom-"

Your climax hits you in intense waves of pleasure, your toes curling and legs shaking. You moan around Tom, closing your eyes, and you can't control the work of your mouth anymore. In the lack of anything to hold on to, you grip the sheets beneath you.

Tom feels your reaction and it only coax his own climax, shooting his cum in your mouth, with your tongue laid flat against his length, sending vibrations on him. He curses all the way, riding you out of your orgasm with his fingers lazily working inside of you.

With your mouth full of his cum, you release his cock and swallow every drip of him, catching your breath and falling apart on the top of Tom.

His breath is heavy under you, and after a few seconds trying to collect yourself again, you decide it's time to lay down straight. You catch a sight of him collecting your release from his messy face, cleaning his fingers up with his mouth, and if it wasn't for the powerful orgasm you just had, you'd have whined just at the view.

Tom helps you, and your head feel dizzy as you lay beside him. He puts one arm around you, bringing you closer to his chest, and you lay your head there.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing the top of your head. You smile lazily, still taken by the euphoria of your orgasm, and nod. "So... did you like the new position?"

Still smiling, you look up at him, fingers caressing his jaw.

"Loved it" you press a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you".

"Thank you" he smiles tenderly, a contrast from the previous actions and words. "For trusting me. You're amazing, love. And I'm more than happy to be the one you try new things with".

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

 With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

 They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

 But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

 Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

 I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

 Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

 Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

 Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

 I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

 A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

 I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

 Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

 Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

 Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

 I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

 A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

 Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

 Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

 Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

 Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

 I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

 A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

 Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

 A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

 I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

 Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

 I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

 A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

 And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

 If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

 I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

 A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

 Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

 Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

 Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

 Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

 I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

 Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

 Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

 Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

 See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

 I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

 Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

 Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

 Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

 Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

 Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

 “Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

 I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

 A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

 I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

 Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

 My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

 Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

 I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

 Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

 That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

 My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

 Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

 I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

 A real doctor: Good.

 I saw him type but typed my question faster.

 Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

 Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

 I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

 A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

 Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

 HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

 I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

 It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

 Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

 I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

 HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

 There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

 I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

 Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

 My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

 But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

 I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

 I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

 It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

 Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

[ktheist]

hi :) how about vampire!tae + prompt list #2, angst, #16? ❤️❤️

16. “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’.”

muses. vampire! yandere!taehyung x college student!reader ft childhood fuck buddy!jeongguk

warnings. implied smut, yandere!taehyung, mentions of adultery, alcohol, smoking.

x

you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

not because you’d wandered down the hallway in the middle of the night to get some water to quench your thirst and happened to hear the sounds from your parents’ slightly ajar bedroom door that had you running to the bathroom and hurl your guts out into the toilet bowl.

nor because, after the incident, you’d later found out the friend your mother’s been spending too much of the time with was the same man that made it to your parents’ bed.

but because kim taehyung was an unsatiable beast.

a monster hungry for the blood running through your veins.

“wh-what are you-” a finger slants over your mouth, a gentle yet threatening voice following suit.

“you don’t wanna wake your darling mother, do you?” you’ve taken to the darkness since a young age, you can’t see anything and nothing can see you - a little comforting trick your father once told you to ease that fear for monsters under your bed.

he was wrong.

because the monster who has his knee wedged between your legs and hand pinning down your wrists over your head - has eyes as red as blood and luminescent as the moon.

“i followed that woman because she’s always had this sweet scent to her,” the hymns that trickles out of his mouth almost made you believe that he was an angel, just a little bit misguided but still a beautiful, breathtaking angel.

“she tasted better than the rest but,” something sharp grazes down the delicate skin on your neck as his chilly breath sends shivers down your spine, “if it wasn’t for her, i wouldn’t have found you, my little hummingbird.”

x

“what do you mean you want a divorce?!”

the first sound of fist slamming against something hard comes not even a year later. you thought to tell your father but it turns out he already knows. it’s your mother that’s fiercely arguing to keep the marriage intact.

was it the night you saw them together? or did he know way before?

the image of two bodies melded against each other burns at the back of your mind. you can almost taste the bile coming up from the sudden but not surprising need to vomit.

“...hated you! you never have time for me anymore.” a pause hangs over the ceiling as you admire the cityscape, the lights don’t blink like smoldering fire eating away at your cigarette, “is it that new assistant of yours? she must be good, huh?”

“miyeon, are you nuts?! she’s 20 years younger than me!” your father sounds like he’s the one on the verge of losing his mind trying to explain things to your mother.

“whatever,” you breathe out through your mouth, the smoke disappearing into thin air, “i’m leaving next week anyway.”

“oh? you’re leaving? already? but you just got back from your break,” a familiar voice vibrates in your ears and makes your toes curl inward.

thankfully, they’re hidden underneath your blanket.

“it was a mistake to come back,” the amber ring hisses for the briefest moment when you drop the bud into the half-filled glass of water even though the ashtray’s a little stretch away from the glass, “though at this rate, i should start looking for an apartment to rent.”

“you can always come and live with me,” the bed dips where the monster takes his seat, the hand on your knee is as cold as ever.

“tae,” you whimper, feeling the heat creep up your neck and spreading over your face as the aforementioned man - no, taehyung is no man, he’s a monster - starts kissing down your inner thigh and pulling your leg over his shoulder.

“i’ll make you forget everything,” garnet eyes staring into you like a sure promise, all you have to do is-

“c-can you eat me out?” you look away, shame and embarrassment filling your chest.

the monster smiles yet you’ve never seen emptier eyes, “with pleasure.”

x

not long after you moved out for good, the divorce finally took place. the long winded battle ends with your mother getting the matrimonial apartment but your dad’s got a few other he can live in.

oh, and he gifted you one too just before he signed the papers along with a trust fund that could support you and your future family.

not that you’d ever be able to have one.

a normal one, that is.

“aren’t you smoking too much?” jeongguk’s finger trails down your spine, “have you been eating healthy?”

puckering your mouth, you breathe out the ring shaped smoke into the air, watching it gradually fade away.

“that’s too much question for someone who couldn’t care less about what i’m doing with my life,” you let out a dry laugh.

friends since childhood and fuck buddies since first year of college. taehyung came and go like the wind, so you needed another person to make you forget. jeongguk stepped into boxes-filled house and right into your unmade bed.

silence hangs over you like foreboding clouds.

maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

nothing good came out of biting your tongue so you say whatever you want, did whatever-

“oh, you have a guest,” a familiar soothe of baritone rings in your ears as the chilling air licks your naked skin.

“tae, i didn’t know you were gonna drop by,” you say, even after all these years, your heart still skips a beat at the sight of those glowing red eyes.

the bed shifts as jeongguk slips out from under the covers, not quite caring that his pride and glory is out in display. well, guess he’s just that confident. muscular back and thick thighs, you would’ve made an onlyfans if you had a body like a greek god too.

the greek god didn’t even bother to button up his shirt when he turns to you, abs and all, and places a kiss on the top of your head, “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

you blink, watching him with befuddled thoughts as he winks before he walks out of the door.

taehyung’s sigh as the bed dips is what snaps you out of your trance, “so you got a new play thing.”

“take it off,” this time, you have an ashtray you keep underneath your bed and pick up whenever you smoke. so you put out the bud and slide the ashtray back to that spot just below where your pillow would be.

“such an impatient hummingbird,” he chuckles but his hands glides over the buttons of his shirt anyway, “how long have you been together?”

“we’re not together,” you take a sip of the water from the bottle you keep on your nightstand and wipe the stray droplet that trails down your chin with the back of your hand, “why does it matter anyway? you’re here for a fuck, aren’t you? then shut up,” his muscles flex under your touch as you yank him down in his mid-undressed state, the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a strong, tight chest, “and fuck me.”

his eyes glow like a diamond underneath chandeliers, brighter than the times you’ve gazed into them. fiercer than the fleeting moments where he’d look at you and only you.

instead of devouring you right then and there, his hand, calloused yet gentle, pushes your hair to the back of your ear. his thumb lingering on your bottom lip, “you... did you think i only came here to do that?”

it’s the way he says it - as if he’s thought of you as more than a human toy - that’s what brings out the sneer from your face, “what? are you playing the good guy now? i guess you should change it up every once in awhile, shouldn’t you? it gets boring being the same monster for centuries.”

for the briefest moment, he looks like he’s about to snap your neck in half - it wouldn’t be that hard, especially with his large hand. he could wrap it around your delicate throat and-

“humans really are weak creatures,” he sighs, arms bringing you down to his chest, hugging you to his body unusually warm body - or is it your body that’s too hot that his ice cold built feels touchable?

you want to push him away, scream that it’s because of him that you’re like this, that you had a whole life ahead of you if you didn’t love him like you do. but there’s something - a lump stuck in your throat, and for some reason, your face is wet with tears you can’t control.

x

funny how taehyung stays longer than he would with just a little tears. and to think you gave him all of you just to be held for a night by a monster and wake up to an empty bed the next day.

well, you did wake up to an empty bed that morning too but there’s a beep of the door and the sound of it clicking open and close a moment later before taehyung walked in with bags of takeouts that was too much for a human and vampire to finish.

said he didn’t know what you like so he went with a variety of choices from the times he remembered you mentioning the foods you’d enjoyed.

you only ate a small portion before excusing yourself for a smoke even though manners and etiquette had never been in your books when kim taehyung is involved.

“i know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’,” his eyes bore into yours, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a straight, frustrated line.

so monsters can make that kind of face too.

“mom knew,” the words almost didn’t make it out but the look in his eyes was so very human - well, almost fooled you into believing. you cross your arms over your chest, running your palms up and down your arm as if to heat yourself up, “she knew the reason her lover suddenly left her was because of me - every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s seeing something insightful. after the divorce, she told me she didn’t want to see me anymore - that i wasn’t her daughter moving forward.”

“i didn’t think miyeon was that kind of person...” taehyung laughs, but the laugh sounds as dry as the ones you’ve been making, “i knew she was a wicked woman for having a lover-”

“but you still slept with her,” you interject, the room is so awfully cold, “you slept with a wife and a mother and discarded her for her daughter - so don’t you dare judge her, kim taehyung.”

you say yet you have no right to get mad at him. kim taehyung is a monster and he doesn’t pretend to be something else. but you?

oh, you knew he just got done fucking your mother when he slipped into your room and placed his hands where he shouldn’t. yet you still let him in, gave him a part of your heart even though he only wanted your body and blood.

and just as you’re about to give the last of piece of your beating heart, kim taehyung takes a step forward, reaches out his hand and gathers you in his arms.

you’re left gripping that last part of your heart to your chest as he cradles you like a baby. like a cub that barely knows how to hunt.

you end up going up to the rooftop. the fresh air helps you think clearer but in your haste to get away from the monster you’re homing, you’ve forgotten to grab the reason you stormed out here. so you’re left with nothing but a layer of shirt and a gust of wind blowing past until the sun sets.

x

“hey you,” jeongguk calls - you know it’s him because no one has the nerve to talk to you like that on campus, but you don’t stop. you keep walking, “you little- you’re planning to skip again, aren’t you?”

something wraps around your wrist and twirls your around to face a red as tomato jeongguk.

“chill, professor min doesn’t even care if people attend his classes or not,” you place the hand he’s not holding on your hip.

after you spent half a day on the rooftop, you came back to an empty apartment. it’s almost kim taehyung was never there. yet the were traces of washed containers drying on the dish rack from the takeouts, the bed that is usually unmade even sports a new set of sheets, your astray is cleaned and your laundry is gone (it returned in a form of a call from a drycleaning place).

“it’s not about him not caring,” he counters, forehead creasing, “it’s about you - you... i haven’t seen you since last week and the first thing you do after the first class of the day is skip the next?”

“yeah, okay, this twisted sense of righteousness is not for me,” you finally yank your hand out of his grasp, “you do you but don’t rope me into it - even if it’s good for me. sometimes people don’t wanna be saved, jeongguk.”

you thought he’d look at you with disappointment like your father does. the man would put up a poor excuse of a smile and pat your head but as soon as he turns away, he’d look like he was in his own world. like he didn’t just talk to his daughter not even a second ago.

“well,” jeongguk sighs, “if you’re gonna skip, at least take me with you.”

“what?” you blink, surprised.

“hold up, let me get my bag,” he announces, running back to where you both came from.

you debate on leaving him after a minute but he comes running from around the corner and looking relieved that you’re still there.

x

you went to the karaoke, had a few drinks, went for dinner and drank some more. for the first time in a long time, the hollowed part in your chest where your heart used to be until you gave it to a monster that didn’t deserve it - feels alive again.

“you know, i forgot what it’s like to hang out with friends,” you’re slurring but jeongguk must have understood.

“i can introduce you to some friends,” he offers.

“not those kinds of fake friends that approach you for money,” you grumble, groaning at the remembrance of the faces that smile at you and talks shit behind your back when they thought you were out of earshot.

“there’s those kinds of people too, huh?” jeongguk laughs as if he missed ‘those kinds of people’ now that he barely had time to get ripped off from them.

“well, i don’t want your money. i got my own.” he confesses a moment later with the cutest grin - as if the monstority of the world hadn’t touched him one bit.

“i know, that’s why i kept you around,” you take another sip of the alcohol, feeling it flow down your throat with more ease than the first time.

“that’s good enough,” he murmurs, glazed eyes staring at the tinted emerald bottle for a little too long before his meets your gaze, lips stuck in a boyish grin.

the rest, you can barely remember.

but all you know is you share a kiss - it’s sweet but sloppy but you feel your cheeks warming all the way home. you didn’t invite jeongguk back - you couldn’t bring yourself to wrap him around your little fingers like you’ve been doing. and he must have known of your wishes if he looked at you with such conflicted gaze.

x

the apartment is loomed with shadows from every angle, save for the walled window across the room where the cityscape twinkles, as if welcoming you back. you sigh, at least you’ve made a home out of this place.

“where have you been?” a cold voice rings in your ears.

the phone you’ve been holding crashes against the ground with a thud.

“no,” it laughs as dry as the hollowness in your chest, “i knew where you were - i could’ve found you if i looked...”

“back for some human pussy?” you ask monotonously, “it’s funny, you know, we can barely go for more than 3 rounds and our bones break easily so you have to hold back all the time. and yet weaklings like us must’ve given you a different sort of pleasure, huh?”

silence lapses in between you.

the glowing garnet eyes shouldn’t bother you as much yet you feel your body heating up as you undress in front of him yet he doesn’t come when you leave the bathroom door ajar.

your heart races at the thought of seeing an empty room when you step out of the door in your bathrobe and freshly washed body. and your heart skips a beat when those garnet eyes meet yours in your not so subtle attempt to find out whether he’s still there, on the one-person couch in the corner of the room.

to think you’ve got less than a scrape of heart left to give.

you huff, not quite sure why you’re suddenly mad. but you pull on your night gown and march to your bed. if he’s going to keep being a creature that lurks within the shadows and refuse to touch you- then you won’t beg for him to.

for the longest time, you keep your eyes close and count to a digit that you can’t remember where you stopped. but sleep doesn’t come easy. you want to turn to your other side but that’ll blow your cover - not that taehyung couldn’t figure out from the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

there’s no telling how long it goes on, with you not managing to grasp a single strand of peace and kim taehyung - you sense him - staying there, just looking at you.

but liberation comes to you with a dip of the bed and the cold breath against your neck.

“i couldn’t do it after all...” he sighs, “i tried to tell myself that i’ll only have you once in awhile when it gets really bad for me but i keep wanting more.”

the kiss on the nape of your neck tickles.

“if you try to run away, i’ll chain your ankles,” he whispers sweet words to your ears, “if you push me away, i’ll strap you to the bedpost.”

there’s no going back now - your heart’s beating too face in your chest. and after the gasp that you just let out when you feel your body twist to lay on your back, hands pinned over your head as your eyelids flutter open to gaze into garnet diamonds - there’s no sleeping your way and pretending you didn’t hear anything to get out of this.

“why- why now? you knew how i felt about you but you left anyway - you left over and over again even if you knew i wanted you to stay,” you glare.

“humans are fickle creatures,” he rests his forehead on yours, “i wanted you to forget about me but my powers don’t work with you... i can’t erase your memories,” he laughs that dry, hopeless laugh, “a part of me wanted you to remember me even when you’re married and surrounded by children of your own. another part of me didn’t want you to run after a monster like me.”

“you think that’s just gonna make up for everything? for the shit you put me through? for ruining my relationship with my parents? for making me unable to have a normal human relationship with anyone?” you grit your teeth, “think again, kim taehyung. i’ll never forgive you. not for as long as i’m alive.”

“that’s fine,” he releases your hand only to pin both of them down together in one grip, his free hand tracing down the side of your face until his thumb finds home on your lips, “i’ll prepare the softest mattress, i’ll enchant the chains so they won’t gnaw at your delicate skin, i’ll be with you every day of your life.”

his lips are cold but your body is warm enough. taehyung bites that skin he calls delicate and licks the blood dry. your nipples are sore from how much he’s ravaging you. the moans that slip out of your mouth are unrestrained. feral, even. as if you’re the beast and he’s the monster.

“tae... taehyung... taehyung...” you murmur his name like you know no other word.

then, when you’re spent and heaving for air, he gathers you in his arms and whispers how good you were.

how very docile you are.

“taehyung,” you murmur, too tired to even open your eyes but the hum he lets out is the softest you’ve heard, “i’ll never let you have my heart.”

for a moment, you think you hear him hold his breath. as if he didn’t expect you to push him even when you’re snuggling up to him as you say so.

you want to laugh, maybe you let out a smile before you fell into deep slumber.

x

“___! please, help me out! i’ll buy you lunch!” soyeon begs, if you look closer, you might even see a hint of tear in her eyes, “tutor me so i’ll be able to graduate on time, please.”

“i don’t know... i mean, i still remember that time when you stole my chips when i wasn’t looking...” you narrow your eyes at the girl.

you’re in your final year, on the verge of graduating and actually collectively fearing about repeating a semester.

“if it’s chips you want, i’ll buy the whole aisle for you!” she proclaims.

you grin, “deal.”

“i have a bad feeling about this,” mina murmurs, deadpanned.

your phone vibrates with a text from a ‘taetae’, “oh shit, i’m late.”

“hey, ___, will you share some with me?” jongyeon waves to get your attention.

you look back, barely registering what she said, “hm? yeah, sure!”

and because of that, you run straight into a stone hard chest. but before you can feel the impact of the ground, a hand wraps around your arm and pulls you right into the body you just bulldozed.

“you’re late,” garnet eyes bore into you like it’s going to eat you alive.

“i know, you didn’t have to turn up on campus,” you take a step back, “people will notice.”

“that’s not my concern,” taehyung’s brows knit together in frustration and you know why.

something about you not wanting people to know about the monster living with you and showing up to pick you up from class - irks him. no, it eats away at him like a parasite. an ugly little green thing.

after awhile, he lets go of the idea of chains and lets you walk out of that door everyday for classes, holding onto that strand of hope that you’ll walk back in every evening and touch him, give him the littlest amount of attention he doesn’t even deserve.

and when you’re late, he slips out of the window and shows up on campus. those strange looks people give you and him will never cease. but you’ve got more to life than worry about measly little rumors of you an a questionable but exceptionally attractive looking man that shows up to pick you up from time to time.

“i want a boyfriend too,” jongyeon sighs before he calls after taehyung, “hey mr. boyfriend, do you have any cute friends?”

the glare he gives her should be enough to scare a human to her death bed but jongyeon doesn’t seem to notice.

in a way, you’ve gathered quite a bunch that are more like you than you can imagine.

you wave at your friends - your real friends, shaking your head at the way jongyeon’s shooting suggestive looks before you’re completely out of sight for taehyung to wrap his arms around you and take you flying in mid air.

shadows still loom in the apartment. taehyung spends most of his days here - he doesn’t like the light so he never switches them on.

before your feet even lands on the wooden flooring, your pants are already pushed down to the ground. his hand is on your breast, kneading and grasping for your flesh as if he can’t believe you’d here. in his arms.

your heart still races but you made sure taehyung understood that it’s a biological reaction for the excitement that rushes through your body.

and he’s fine with that as he breaks your skin and licks the blood that pours out of the incision.

you want to laugh as you feel his erection twitch in your hand. he doesn’t even bother to hide how desperate he is for you. for your touch. for your attention.

he’s wrapped around your fingers.

and to think you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

x

note. this was a wild ride, wasn’t it?? welp, bet the person who requested this did not expect that lmaoooo sorry if this isn’t your cup of tea huehuehue

[cherubcow]

“Invincible”, Season 1 (2021) Review

Somehow both very cool and very fucking stupid :D

About Created and written primarily by Robert Kirkman (principle writer for The Walking Dead comic and TV show), this Young Adult cartoon basically synthesizes a number of comic book characters (e.g., Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Hellboy, Wonder Woman, Gambit) and tries to balance their heroism with cynical twists and dark realities. It's an exercise like Brightburn (2019) in that it mirrors existing comic writing all too closely in order to make violent twists. The cool stuff arrives pretty much immediately. You can tell right away that the physics have some level of realism, and it quickly gets serious because of this. The easy comparison would be to The Boys (also by Amazon, also about violent heroes, and also very well-produced). So, if you like The Boys (2019–), you'll probably like Invincible only a little less.

(( Some spoilers but nothing too specific ))

Wrong Focus But, the stupid stuff comes from the same error that the Kick-Ass movie (2010) made: it focuses on the wrong person(s). In Kick-Ass, the error was focusing on.. well.. "Kick-Ass", an irredeemable loser and waste of screen time. Invincible makes the same mistake, focusing on.. well.. "Invincible", a (so far) irredeemable loser and waste of screen time. So, despite its virtues, this show cannot escape that it made the decision to go for the Young Adult viewing demographic. It reminds me of Alita: Battle Angel (2019) in that way too: some very cool adult concepts ruined by the dramatic devices of unrepentant teenage stupidity and irrelevance. I didn't even like that stuff when I was a teenager, though Jordan Catalano gets a pass.

Main Cast and Characters The supporting characters were also very stupid. The most annoying was definitely Amber Bennett (voiced by the otherwise cool Zazie Beetz from Deadpool 2 (2018) and Joker (2019)), 

who is supposed to be attractive somehow to Mark Grayson ("Invincible", voiced by Steven Yeun, who played Glenn on The Walking Dead) 

despite the fact that she constantly judges him, fails to understand him, often fails to give him any kind of benefit of the doubt, and continues to scowl at him and be hurtful towards him even when she has information that should change her outlook towards him. And because she is part of the love triangle shared between herself, Invincible/Mark, and "Atom Eve"/Samantha (voiced by the awesome Gillian Jacobs from Community (2009–2014)), 

audiences simply have to bear with it that Amber's annoying character will be present and wasting time until Mark can realize that Amber is in fact toxic and that Eve actually understands him and can improve him in more positive directions. That love triangle should have been a 20-minute distraction, but I'm guessing that it will eat up a season or two more, especially if the writers become cowardly and fail to change things for fear of messing up a perceived "winning" formula. In my ideal story line, they would skip ahead 10 years, drop the teen drama, the love triangle, and the stupid jokes and have Invincible and Eve paired in defense of Earth, with the main tension being from their worry that the other would be horribly gored in front of them during lethal fights against cosmic enemies ;)

Aside, I am aware of Amber’s motivation for being a bad person, I just think her justification is not based in understanding, empathy, and a regard for the gravity of Invincible’s situation. In a strict political sense, Invincible should not commit a lie of omission by keeping her in the dark about his identity — even if for the “noble lie” reason of protecting her — but in a real sense, he is a fucking teenager who just developed his super powers. For her to pretend that he should reveal his entire identity to her — a potentially transformative and even dangerous decision — after a few months of teenage romance paints an absurd portrait of her mind. It does, however, align her with Omni-Man, because where Omni-Man forces Invincible to become an adult in the fighting sense (pushing with full force early on), Amber forces Invincible to become an emotional adult by getting him to understand that toxic people such as herself need to be given boundaries — and he needs to learn to clearly delineate and communicate his real desires. By knowing that he does not want Amber, people who regiment his free time, or people who do not suit him, for instance, he can realize why Eve was an obvious decision: Eve understands, can make time when they have time, and will let him find his decisions. Part of a coming-of-age story tends to be realizing what one actually wants, and Invincible’s hesitation in telling Amber his identity shows that he does not truly want her. This separates Invincible from, say, Spider-Man, who avoided telling Mary Jane his identity not because he did not want her but because he wanted at all costs to protect her.

The next most annoying character has to be Debbie Grayson (voiced by TV-cancer Sandra Oh and who luckily was not animated to look like the real Sandra Oh and who should have been voiced instead by Bobby Lee due to Lee's successful MadTV parody of Sandra Oh). 

Debbie basically fills the role of Skyler in Breaking Bad, except that Debbie's character tends to be slightly more understanding before her inevitable and toxic Skyler-resentment and undermining behavior. Despite having an 8-episode arc of change, Debbie's character flips too quickly and lacks the empathy and Omni-Man motive-justifying that would make her interesting (the comic's development may vary). For instance, if she refused to believe that Omni-Man meant his own words, that would make her empathetic and perhaps virtuous even if misled, but instead she dropped their "20 years" of understanding after viewing Omni-Man in action, which makes her appear shallow, easily manipulated, and unsympathetic. That was a definite "Young Adult" genre move because it shows immaturity by the writers to break apart a bond of 20 years so quickly. Mediocre teens might accept such a fissure because their lives have not yet seen or may not comprehend that level of time, but adults know that even long-standing and problematic relationships (which, beyond the lie, Omni-Man's and Debbie's was not shown to be) take a lot of time to break — even with lies exposed.

Omni-Man The biggest show strength for me was of course Omni-Man, who in a success of casting was voiced by J.K. Simmons in a kind of reprisal of Simmons' role as Fletcher from Whiplash (2014). 

The Fletcher/Omni-Man parallel shows through their being incredibly harsh but extremely disciplined and principled, forcing people to become beyond even their own ideal selves (this via Omni-Man's tough-love teaching of Invincible — comically, Omni-Man was actually psychologically easier on Invincible than Fletcher was on Whiplash's Andrew character). Despite the show's attempts to villainize Omni-Man, he, like Fletcher and also like Breaking Bad's Walter White, becomes progressively more awesome, eventually representing a Spartan will, an unconquerable drive, and a realistic and martial understanding of a hero's role.

To the show's credit, while it wrote Omni-Man to be outright genocidal and from a culture of eugenicists (again, Spartan), they could not help but admire him and his "violence" and "naked force" (for a Starship Troopers reference), giving him a path to redemption. That redemption comes in part because — despite the show's attempt to be often realistic and violent — its decision to be directed at young adults via dumb jokes, petty relationship drama, the characters’ reckless lack of anonymity and security in their neighborhood (loudly taking off and landing right at the doorstep), and light indy music also made the portrayed violence far less literal. With a less literal violence, the real statement becomes not that Omni-Man really did kill so many people (though he certainly did kill those people within the show's plot) but that he was symbolically capable of terrible violence but could be reformed for good. That's the shortcoming with putting violence under demographic limitations. If it's a PG-13 Godzilla knocking down cities, the deaths in the many fallen skyscrapers don't matter so much (the audience will even forgive Godzilla for mass death if it happens mostly in removed spectacle), whereas if it's Cormac McCarthy envisioning a very realistic fiction, every death rides the edge of true trauma.

By showing light between the real and the symbolic, it is much easier to identify and agree with Omni-Man. For instance, when Robot (voiced by Zachary Quinto of Heroes and the newer Star Trek movies) 

shows too much empathy for the revealed weakness of "Monster Girl" (voiced by Grey Griffin), the audience may have thought, "Pathetic," even before Omni-Man himself said it. And this because Omni-Man knows that true and powerful enemies (including himself) will not hesitate to use ultra-violence against these avenues of weakness. "Invincible" can make his Spider-Man quips while in lethal battles, but he does so while riding the edge of death — something that Omni-Man has to teach Invincible by riding him to the brink of his own.

Other Cast/Characters and Amazon's Hidden Budget It was impressive how many big-name actors were thrown into this — a true hemorrhage of producer funding. Amazon has so far hidden the budget numbers, perhaps because they don't want people to know that the show (like many of its shows) represents a kind of loss-leader to jump-start its entertainment brand.

Aside from those already mentioned, the show borrows a number of actors from The Walking Dead (WD), including.. • Chad L. Coleman ("Martian Man"; "Tyreese" on WD),

• Khary Payton ("Black Samson"; "Ezekiel" on WD),

• Ross Marquand (several characters; "Aaron" on WD)

• Lauren Cohan ("War Woman"; "Maggie" on WD)

• Michael Cudlitz ("Red Rush"; "Abraham" on WD)

• Lennie James ("Darkwing"; "Morgan" on WD)

• Sonequa Martin-Green ("Green Ghost"; "Sasha" on WD) 

There were also connections to Rick and Morty and Community, not just with Gillian Jacobs but also with... • Justin Roiland ("Doug Cheston"), who voices both Rick and Morty in Rick and Morty,

• Jason Mantzoukas ("Rex"),

• Walton Goggins ("Cecil"),

• Chris Diamantopoulos (several characters),

• Clancy Brown ("Damien Darkblood"),

• Kevin Michael Richardson ("Mauler Twins"), and

• Ryan Ridley (writing)

That's a lot of overlap. They even had Michael Dorn from Star Trek: TNG (1987–1994) (there he played Worf) and Reginald VelJohnson from Family Matters (1989–1998) and Die Hard (1988), and even Mark Hamill. Pretty much everyone in the voice cast was significant and known. Maybe Amazon got a discount for COVID since the actors could all do voice-work from home? ;)

Overall Bad that it was for the Young Adult target demo but good for the infrequent adult themes and ultra-violence. Very high production value and a good watch for those who like dark superhero stories. I have heard that the comic gets progressively darker, which fits for Robert Kirkman, so it will likely be worth keeping up with this show.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 25]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,100

Chapter 24

2 YEARS LATER - Wakanda

“Y/N, if you don’t stop fidgeting, we’re going to have to do another session.” Even though it was a warning, there was playfulness evident in his voice.

“Sorry…I–I’m just nervous,” Y/N admitted.

To prove the point even further, her chest was rising higher than usual, giving away her heavier and erratic breathing.

Steve did a double take and quickly put down his pencil.

He promptly walked over to the bed.

The bed where Y/N was completely naked and trying to hold the relaxed pose Steve had requested from her just 20 minutes ago.

Steve leaned over her, only looking into her eyes. “You know, you really don’t have to do this.”

It hadn’t even been him that had requested such a thing. 

Y/N had offered.

Steve had made a few mischievous and playful comments in the past about having her sit for him. But Y/N finally put together that he would never actually ask her to pose nude for him to draw. 

So, she finally just put the offer out there herself.

Despite the fact that Steve had seen her naked hundreds of times and had already memorized every inch of her body, he still blushed like a little schoolboy when she had offered.

“Steve, how many times have we had sex?!” Y/N had squealed, laughing hysterically at his bashfulness.  

Steve recovered quickly and didn’t take kindly to her teasing. He grabbed her roughly, pulling her into his lap and playfully biting her shoulder.

But now he sat on Y/N’s bed in Wakanda’s royal palace, her body completely open for his artistic interpretation.

“I know I don’t have to. But I wanted to do something nice for you…”

Steve tilted his head. “What for?”

She gave him a shy smile before saying, “Because I love you, obviously.”

Steve leaned down and kissed her then. He couldn’t help himself when she said stuff like that to him, and in such a way.

When they pulled apart, Y/N grinned at him. 

“I happen to know you’ve got quite a good memory. I’m sure you’d have no problem pulling countless images of my naked body from your consciousness.” Y/N added with a cheeky smirk. “But what’s the fun in that?”

Steve allowed his gaze to quickly flicker across her naked body.

A man born in this time would probably tell her how sexy she was or how hard it was for him to give up the drawing altogether and just have her.

Steve wished he could say those things to her.

But that wasn’t Steve at all.

He might have been dropped into the 21st century, pumped full of steroids, with women (and some men) throwing themselves at him any chance they got. But Steve would always been that scrawny, shy, and bashful kid that got beat up in the alleys of Brooklyn.

“You’re beautiful,” is what he said instead.

Now Y/N blushed.

“Just sit still for an hour or so, OK?” He asked gently.

The way he asked made it clear that Y/N was the one in control. If she changed her mind at any moment, Steve would happily stop.

He waited for her to give a shy, but insistent, nod. Then he moved back to his place across the room where his sketchpad and pencils waited for him.

“Have you drawn other women naked before?” Y/N asked.

If she had to sit still for this long, she should at least make him entertain her.

Steve coughed, clearly caught off guard by the question.

He cleared his throat. “N-No. Never.”

“Not even Peggy?” She asked innocently.

“Peggy and I were never…” he paused “…intimate.”

Y/N had always assumed that. It was a different time. They were in the middle of a war. Sex wasn’t tossed around as casually as it was today. Steve was a gentleman, and Peggy had her standards and expectations.

“Really?”

Steve just nodded.

“That’s too bad…” Y/N sighed. “For her.” She quickly clarified.

Steve’s gaze shot up to her. “What do you mean?”

Y/N looked him up and down as best she could with a sly smirk. “She never got to have the…I guess…full Steve Rogers experience.”

There was that famous Steve Rogers blush again.

“How are you the one blushing when I’m the one completely naked and at your disposal?” Y/N cried out in laughter.

Steve rolled his eyes but kept his focus on his sketchpad. “Always such a saucy little minx…” He muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. 

It earned him another giggle from her.

—————————————

“Steve, you promised!” Y/ whined.

“OK. OK. OK.” He finally gave in.

“I posed naked for you. Naked! It’s not like I’m asking you to take off your clothes…though I wouldn’t complain.” Y/N had her camera strapped around her neck.

Steve had never been one of her subjects. And she missed taking photos. Despite being in a new and one of the most beautiful countries in the world, she had no desire to blow the dust off of her DSLR.

But now she wanted to take photos. But more importantly, she wanted to take photos of her boyfriend, something he had never let her do before.

An idea suddenly popped into her head. “Wait!”

Then she shuffled around a suitcase that looked like it had exploded. She managed to find a mini-tripod.

Y/N started setting it up on the ground, attaching her camera to it.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked with an amused smirk.

“I’m going to take a picture of us!”

“Us?”

Y/N stopped what she was doing to look at him. “Have you ever realized that we don’t have a single photo together?”

Steve blinked and then his smirk instantly dropped.

He hadn’t realized that.

Y/N watched him, half expecting him to turn down the idea. But he opened his arms where he was sitting on the floor.

“Come here, you.”

She smiled and sat down beside him.

“Nope. That won’t do,” he told her before picking her up like she weighed nothing and sat her right in his lap.

Y/N giggled and shimmied so they were posed right for the camera.

“OK. It’s on a timer. 10 photos. One every 10 seconds,” she explained. “That light will start blinking fast right before it takes a photo.”

Steve nodded, already not paying attention to the blinking light.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder right as the shutter went off.

“Steve! We’re not going to be able to see your face!” Y/N laughed.

“Don’t worry. I have 9 more to mess up.”

Nine photos later, Y/N was flipping through the SD card. Steve watched as she smiled at them.

Y/N slowly looked up at him with a shy smile. “We’re pretty cute.”

Steve chuckled. She was the cute one. 

Then she flipped her camera around and showed him a couple of them. The first one was of Steve kissing her shoulder. Y/N had her mouth half open, clearly about to yell at him for ruining the photo. But Steve liked that about it. Another was of them looking into each other’s eyes without even meaning to. Thankfully, there were a couple of them both just smiling at the camera. But those were Steve’s least favorite.

Things had been surprisingly good between them recently. It was almost like they were back in their honeymoon phase from when they’d first found each other in both of their presents.

Steve didn’t want to bring it to Y/N’s attention or ask questions, afraid that it would somehow ruin it or pop the bubble of bliss they were currently in.

“Sure you want to go to this thing tonight?” Steve asked her.

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. Kind of wanted to just spend time alone with you,” Steve admitted.

“It’s the biggest celebration in Wakanda every year. Shuri and T’Challa sounded like they really wanted us to go. And after everything they’ve done for me – for us…”

“You’re right,” Steve said with sudden guilt.

Y/N kept forgetting the name but it was a festival in Wakanda that celebrated the coming of spring every year. There were food vendors, art, music, and peopled dancing in the streets.

Shuri had even given Y/N and Steve customary outfits to wear.

“Did you tell Bucky to meet us here?” Y/N asked him.

“Oh…umm…no. Should I have?”

Y/N titled her head. “Well, I figured we could all go together…”

“Right. I’ll give him a call. Tell him to meet us here in a few hours.”

——————————

Steve and Bucky walked slowly, keeping a few yards behind Y/N. 

Both men watched her as Shuri explained all of the things around them. Despite being the royal princess, everyone respected Shuri’s distance. It probably helped that she had six Dora Milaje surrounding her too.

“She seem different to you?” Steve asked Bucky as people danced and laughed around them.

Bucky followed his gaze on Y/N, who was throwing her head back and laughing at something Shuri whispered to her.

He couldn’t hold back the shy smirk that grew on his lips. 

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. She seems…happier and – I don’t know – lighter.” Steve thought for a moment. “Like she’s not scared she’s going to travel at any moment.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Bucky challenged.

But in all honesty, he had noticed it too.

“Of course not,” Steve answered.

“Have you asked her?”

“No.” Steve admitted with a little guilt. “I’m scared I’m going to ruin it if I do.”

“Then maybe you should stop being so suspicious of everything and just enjoy it,” Bucky raised an eyebrow, daring Steve to fight him on it.

Y/N skipped over to them. “You guys, you have to try this food over here!”

Steve smiled at her excitement and immediately took her offered hand.

However, Bucky’s reaction wasn’t the same. “You two go on ahead,” Bucky mumbled, only really looked at Steve and not Y/N. But his expression proved there was no room for argument.

Y/N didn’t hide her disappointment, her smile immediately dropped and her brow furrowed. But she still pulled Steve away with her.

“Is he mad at me or something?” She asked Steve when they were a safe distance away.

“I don’t know so.”

“I feel like he’s been avoiding me. It’s been happening for awhile now. Did I do something wrong?”

Steve’s mouth went dry. Because he knew why Bucky would do such a thing. But now he was debating on whether it was appropriate to share that knowledge with Y/N or not.

What was a man supposed to do when he knew his best friend was in love with his girlfriend and the girlfriend didn’t know?

There was no guidebook to this.

“Y/N,” Steve turned to fully face her. “Bucky’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You know something.” Then she let go of his hand. “People don’t realize you’re a good liar. But you’ve never been good at lying to me.”

Then she turned around and started picking at the food she’d been telling him about. She was clearly irritated with him now. 

Steve watched her.

His heart was beating faster and he felt sick.

Was he really about to do this? What this even the right thing to do?

“He’s in love with you, Y/N.” Steve told her quietly.

But he knew she heard him because she completely stopped what she was doing and froze. Her entire body was filled with tension.

“You can’t  be all that surprised by it, right? You’ve really never noticed?” He tried to be almost joking about it, but it was the wrong move.

“He’s not mad at you,” Steve clarified. “He’s avoiding you because he doesn’t know what else to do. He thinks by keeping his distance, he’s doing good by me – or you – hell, I’m not even sure myself.”

Y/N finally looked at him. “Steve, he doesn’t – there’s no – just…no.”

Then she got lost in her head.

Steve could practically see it. She wasn’t with him anymore.

Then her eyes glazed over in tears and she kept shaking her head. “I didn’t – Steve, I didn’t…”

He rushed forward and gripped her face gently.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he calmed her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you hear me? I’m not mad. Bucky’s not mad. You did nothing wrong.”

Then Y/N was looking around for Bucky. As if just finding him and looking into his eyes would be the final confirmation that Steve was telling the truth.

How could she be so stupid? 

Yes, she cared about Bucky. She loved him, as a friend and as someone who was so important to Steve.

Had she led him on? Could she have prevented all of this?

Bucky was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared, leaving Y/N and Steve alone.

Steve was about to comfort her further, but a kingsguard interrupted them.

“Captain Rogers, there was an urgent call for you,” he told Steve.

He nodded. “What is it about?”

The kingsguard passed him a tablet that had a message on it.

Steve’s eyes flickered across the text wildly.

“What? What is it?” Y/N asked.

“Wanda. Nat’s worried. Thinks she’s staying in one place for too long.”

“She’s with Vision?” Y/N asked.

Steve nodded. “I have to go.”

Y/N nodded. Suddenly her problems seemed silly and trivial.

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

Chapter 26

ughhhhhhhh. comment. don’t comment. i don’t even care anymore. i’m so over this series. 😂

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 45

Masterlist

TW: Light torture (no real graphic descriptions, but I just thought I’d add a warning). If you don’t want to read it, skip the third and fifth scene.

----

It is Seraphim custom to hold weddings at noon, to say the wedding vows at the exact moment when the sun is at its zenith. Two hours before the ceremony will begin, Miryam stands in a dressing room in the palace and watches the wedding dress that is laid out before her.

When Miryam first realized she would need to wear a dress, she was worried, but after close inspection, she came to the conclusion that this one is fine. It’s the cut that makes the difference, she thinks. This dress is made of several layers of silk, cut to fall up to her ankles and wrists. Even the neckline is high, and Miryam has come to the conclusion that she is fine with dresses as long as they are no more revealing than the clothes she normally wears.

Miryam reaches out to touch it, but hesitates, finger hovering just over the fabric. It is beautiful, all rich crimson and gold. Artful embroidery in gold thread runs up from the hem and pale blue pearls are stitched onto the fabric.

"What is it?" Nehelle asks. She is sitting on the couch, dressed in an ivory gown that seems to glow against her dark skin. Next to her, the seamstress who brought the dress watches in silence.

Miryam frowns. "It's just..." It's just that Miryam finds expensive clothes unsettling. Beautiful they may be, but she can never quite get over the fact that they are worth more money than she is. Far more, in this specific case. "It's so expensive," she says.

"Will you feel better if I tell you that it's passed down and was not made specifically for you?" Nephelle asks. "It's custom for wedding gowns to be passed down and only altered to fit the current spouses."

This actually does calm Miryam. At least this dress that could probably buy food for an entire village for years was not made specifically for her, and will be used again after today.

"And if I tear it?" She asks. “Or get dirt on it.”

Nephelle laughs and shakes her head. "Just go ahead. It won’t fall apart in your hands."

Carefully, Miryam picks up the gown. The fabric is soft in her hands, the many layers shift against each other.

"Shall I help you get dressed, my lady?" The seamstress asks.

Miryam shakes her head. "No, thank you. I'd rather dress on my own." She smiles at the woman. “But thank you for your work.”

The seamstress bows and leaves the room. Miryam turns to Nephelle, who is still sprawled on a chair. "I'd really rather get dressed on my own," she says.

"This is not the type of dress you can get into on your own," Nephelle says.

Miryam turns the dress, and indeed, there are several tiny buttons at the back. Even without the buttons, the many layers would be near-impossible to navigate without getting tangles up hopelessly. Slowly, she reaches out to pull off her tunic, but pauses at the first button. The very thought of undressing before someone else makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t want to do this.

"Should I get someone else?" Nephelle asks.

"It's not..." Miryam hesitates. She does not want Nephelle to think she has a problem with her. On the contrary, she likes Nephelle. "I don't like undressing in front of people," she says.

It is not just because of the scars. They don't bother her much, actually, save for the memories they occasionally bring up. The way people look at her when they see, that mixture of horror and pity, is more unpleasant, but even that is usually bearable. But Miryam cannot stand how bare being naked makes her feel. The way she feels the stares on her skin, the way it always feels like she is a thing put up on display for others to gawk at.

Nephelle nods. Thankfully, she doesn't seem offended. "Is there anyone you'd be comfortable with?" She asks. "Drakon?"

Miryam hesitates, then nods. Nephelle sticks her head out of the door and quietly speaks to someone outside before closing it again behind her.

“I could do your hair,” she offers. “If you want me to.”

Miryam smiles. “I’d like that,” she says. “And I’m sorry about…” She points vaguely at her clothes. “I know I’m being difficult.”

Nephelle motions for her to sit down on a chair and goes to stand behind her. “You aren’t being difficult,” she says as she gently pulls Miryam’s hair back. “And you shouldn’t feel obligated to do things you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” Miryam says softly.

Nephelle nods and sets to work. She’s quick, fingers moving through the strands of Miryam’s hair with a surprising gentleness. She picks up strand after strand of Miryam’s hair, twisting them together with swift fingers. As she does, she keeps picking up pearls from a box and weaving them into the braid.

“These pearls are considered lucky,” she says and holds one out to Miryam in her open hand. They are the same pearls that have also been stitched on her wedding dress. “You can find them in a river close to here.”

“They’re beautiful,” Miryam says. They really are, shimmering pale blue in the light.

Nephelle closes her hand around the pearl and continues her work. Only a few minutes later, she steps back.

“Done,” she says with a smile. She picks up a looking glass from a cupboard. “Here, look.”

Miryam looks at her reflexion. Nephelle has woven her hair into a crown around her head in a complicated braid. The pearls shimmer softly in the dim light, almost like they glow from within, and make her look like she wears a crown of starlight.

“Beautiful,” Miryam whispers. She turns to Nephelle, smiling broadly. “This is wonderful. Where did you learn to braid hair like this?”

“My mother worked as Lady-in-waiting to our last Princess, Drakon’s mother.” Nephelle reaches out and pulls a strand of hair out of the braid so that it falls down loosely at the side of her face. “She taught me.”

“She must have been brilliant,” Miryam says.

She always wondered how Nephelle ended up in court and met Sinna. As far as Miryam knows, she isn’t noble, but if her mother was close to the royal family, it explains why Nephelle would also be given a position at court. There’s so much she doesn’t know about how the Erithian court works. She’ll have a lot of work to do after the wedding.

“Oh, she still is,” Nephelle says with a laugh. “She lives in the city, together with my stepfather. They used their savings to buy a house there after Drakon’s parents were killed.” She puts away her comb and carefully closes the box with the rest of the pearls. “They will be at the wedding, although I’m sure you will be too busy then. But they are at the palace quite often, so I’m sure you’ll meet them sometime.”

Miryam smiles. “I would love to.”

She was about to ask something else, but a knock on the door interrupts her. A moment later, Drakon pokes his head in.

“Took you long enough,” Nephelle says and grins. “What did you do, got lost in your own palace?”

Drakon grins and steps into the room. “I was getting dressed.”

Indeed, Drakon is already wearing his wedding attire. The colour scheme is the same as the one for Miryam’s clothes, all red and gold, offset with pale, shimmering pearls. Only the cut is different, and he wears a white sash with golden embroidery over it. A crown shimmers silver in his hair.

Miryam smiles at him. “You look beautiful,” she says. She suddenly has to fight the urge to reach out and touch him.

He smiles back at her, brightly enough that he seems to glow. “You too.”

“Yeah, you’re both very pretty.” Nephelle grins and nudges Drakon in the side before she walks over to the door. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

Drakon waits until she closed the door behind herself before turning back to Miryam. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have considered that you wouldn’t be comfortable with having help getting dressed.”

“No problem.” Miryam just hopes Nephelle didn’t take it personally.

Slowly, she begins to unbutton her tunic. They’ve known each other long enough that Miryam undressing in front of him is… well, not easy, it is never easy, but certainly easier. Bearable. Besides, she did it before, a few months ago when they went swimming together.

With a quick motion, she pulls the tunic over her head. Drakon hides his reaction to her scars well, but of course, he has seen them before.

“Alright,” Miryam says, turning to her wedding gown. “Then let’s try this.”

Getting into the gown proves to be quite a challenge. Miryam keeps getting tangled up in the silk layers and Drakon has to help her out. By the time she actually managed to get into the dress, they are both laughing.

“This looks correct,” Miryam says, looking down at herself. “Doesn’t it?”

Drakon looks at the dress and grins. “I think so? But I swear, that dress is alive and trying to strangle us both.”

Miryam grins back and turns her back to Drakon so that he can close the buttons. His fingers are warm against her skin, his touch light. It takes only a moment before he steps back.

“Done,” he says.

Miryam turns around, layers of silk shifting around her as she does. Like she guessed, the dress covers her entirely, exposing almost no skin.

“You look stunning,” Drakon says and gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face.

Miryam stands up on her toes to kiss him. Drakon puts his hands on her waist and for a moment, they simply stand together closely, looking at each other. We’ll be married in a few hours, Miryam thinks and smiles.

A knock sounds on the door, loud and impatient. “Drakon? Miryam?” Sinna’s voice sounds through the door. They grin at each other. “What are you two doing in there? We’re one a schedule, damnit!”

----

“Nervous?” Nephelle asks. They are standing together in a hallway, waiting in front of the door that leads to the courtyard where the ceremony will be held, waiting for it to begin.

Drakon nods. He realizes that he is tugging around at his sleeve again and stops himself. The last thing he needs right now is to accidentally tear his clothes. “What if I mix up the vows?” He asks. “Or trip on the way?”

Nephelle puts a hand on his arm. “But you won’t trip, or forget your vows.”

Drakon isn’t quite so sure of that. But before he can fret more, steps approach from the other side of the hallway. Drakon turns around and sees a red-skinned faerie walking towards him.

“Kiko!” He calls and jumps forward to wrap his arms around his friend. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here.” Kiko claps Drakon on the back. “Wouldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding, would I?” He lets go of Drakon and holds him at an arm’s length to take a proper look at him. “Looking good,” he says. “Where did you find that pretty sash?”

Drakon grins. “Family heirloom.” He reaches out to muss Kiko’s hair. “You’re quite well-dressed yourself, though.”

“Yeah.” Kiko taps a hand against one of the horns poking out of his curly hair. “Even polished those.”

Drakon just hugs him more closely. “I’m so happy you came.”

“Well, you needed a third witness, didn’t you?”

It is custom in Erithia to have three witnesses there for each spouse. Miryam chose Andromache, Mor and Tasia and Drakon wrote to Kiko, asking him to be witness for him together with Sinna and Nephelle.

The door opens for a second time, and this time, it’s Sinna who steps in. “Oh, good. You’re there,” she says with a smile at Kiko before turning to Drakon. “Ready?”

Drakon swallows and nods. His stomach twists with equal parts excitement and nervousness. What if he messes this up?

“Hey.” Sinna reaches out and takes his arm. Smiles. “You’re getting married today,” she says. “To a woman you love. Enjoy it.” Drakon smiles and nods.

A gong sounds in the courtyard and the doors open. Blinding light floods the room, making Drakon blink. He takes a deep breath, then steps out into the courtyard.

Hundreds of faces greet turn to stare at him. The courtyard is crowded, and all eyes are either on him, or on Miryam, who just stepped out from a door at the other side of the courtyard. The people at the forefront hold branches with long, broad leaves in their hand, forming a corridor for them to walk through.

At her side of the courtyard, Miryam hesitates for a moment, then starts walking. He thinks he can see her smile at him and smiles back quickly and sets into motion towards her. Sinna, Nephelle and Kiko follow him with a few feet distance and Drakon has to fight the urge to look back at them for reassurance. Instead, he keeps his eyes fixed on Miryam.

They meet in the centre of a courtyard, under the huge tree that grows there. It is almost two thousand years old, with a trunk wide enough that it would take ten people holding each other by the hands to reach across it and trees that reach almost up to the highest tower. Officiating a marriage under a tree is considered lucky, and this one is old enough that it has surely seen many marriages already.

Miryam tilts her head backwards to look up at the tree’s roof, then smiles at Drakon. Standing in the sunlight, dressed in her red-and-gold wedding gown and with pearls glowing in her hair, she looks radiant as the sun. Drakon gives her a shy smile. Together, they turn to the altar that has been erected at the foot of the tree. Laid out over the altar are a small sun cake (a traditional marriage dish in Erithia), a goblet of wine and an ornate ritual knife. Under it, a snow-white dove flaps its wings in a silver cave. The High Priestess is standing behind it.

“Prince Drakon of Erithia and Lady Miryam from the Black Land,” she says, stepping forward. “Have you come here today, of your own choice and will, to be united in marriage?”

“We have,” Miryam and Drakon reply in unison. Drakon dares a look at her and sees her smiling back at him.

“Then hold out your hands,” the High Priestess says, voice carrying easily over the assembled crowd.

They both do. Drakon offers his left hand and Miryam her right, their thumbs brush against each other as they stretch out their arms. The High Priestess picks up the knife from the table.

“Then be joined in blood,” she says and slices it over both their hands in a quick motion.

The cut is shallow, but it still stings. Immediately, blood wells up. Drakon turns his hand around and clasps it with Miryam’s, careful not to stain either of their clothes. Miryam squeezes his hand and turns to face him.

“With this,” she says, voice ringing out over the courtyard, “I promise you my love and trust. From this day forward to the end of time, we are one.”

“With this,” Drakon repeats after her, voice mercifully steady, “I promise you my love and trust. From this day forward to the end of time, we are one.”

Heart thundering in his chest, he reaches for the altar and picks up the sun cake, a small dough ball filled with sweet sesame.

“I offer you this dish,” he says and holds it out to Miryam. “For what is mine is also yours, from this day forward to the end of time.”

Miryam takes the sun cake from him, smiling at Drakon, and takes a bite. Then, she holds the second half of the cake back out to him.

“And I offer it back to you,” she says. “For what we have, we have to share, from this day forward to the end of time.”

Drakon takes the cake from her. Sweetness fills his mouth as he bites into it. Miryam’s grip on his hand tightens briefly and he is nearly certain her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches for the goblet. “I offer you this wine,” she says, holding the goblet out to him. “For what is mine is also yours, from this day forward to the end of time.”

Drakon takes a sip of the wine, then holds the goblet out to Miryam. “And I offer it back to you, for I will never drink while you go thirsty, from this day forward until the end of time.”

Miryam drinks, then places the goblet back on the altar. The ceremony is almost done now, but one vow is still missing – the most important one, perhaps. Slowly, Drakon reaches for the cage with the dove and places it on the altar between them.

“While we are one in love and trust,” he says, “neither can exist without freedom.” He pulls back one of the two bars that keep the door to the cage closed. “With this, I promise to never bind, restrict or force you, for you are your own person and not mine to keep.”

Miryam smiles. She never said so, but he always knew how important this part of Erithia’s traditional wedding vows is to her. “And I, in turn, promise you the same,” she says, pulling back the second bar. “For we are both our own people, and neither shall ever limit the other’s freedom.”

The door to the cage opens. The dove cocks its head to the side once, then flaps its wings and flies out of the cage. It circles once around Miryam’s head, white wings shining in the sunlight, then shoots of into the sky.

The High Priestess smiles at them. “Then I pronounce you married,” she says.

A moment of silence follows. Then, the crowd breaks into applause.

----

Everything’s ready.

The necessary preparations for his meeting with Clythia took most of the morning. He spent another couple of hours preparing his camp. He doubled the patrols and got everyone on high alert. If everything goes well today, Amarantha’s revenge won’t take long and his soldiers need to be prepared.

Today, for the first time ever, Jurian arrived twenty minutes early for his meeting with Clythia. They are meeting by the source of a small river. Jurian sits alone in the grass, his horse Bear tied to a tree a few feet away, and twists the bottle of wine he brought in his hands. He is hardly nervous, only strangely calm.

Clythia arrives a few minutes later. She doesn’t come by horse but winnows in. Fae so rarely ride. It’s like their ability to move through the world at will took away part of their connection to it.

“My dear,” she says, kneels down next to Jurian and kisses him. Jurian only barely manages to keep from gagging. The last time, he thinks to himself, this is the last time.

He holds out the bottle. “I brought the wine today,” he says and pours them two glasses. He holds one out to Clythia. “Here.” He makes himself smile. “For you.”

“Oh, thank you.” Clythia smiles brightly, oblivious to his unease as she usually is. “I can use something to drink right now. Had another argument with Mara, she didn’t want me to come. As if anyone could ever keep us apart.” She clinks her glass against his and smiles. “To us.”

“To us,” Jurian echoes, thinking that this is an irony if he ever saw one.

He forces himself not to look to closely as she takes a sip, instead concentrating on his own wine. He cannot arouse suspicions, not now.

Clythia takes another sip, then winces. “This tastes strange.” Jurian tenses, but she just shakes her head and laughs. “Human wine. Next time, I’ll bring the drinks again.”

If Jurian wasn’t so relieved, he would have been furious. Typical of Clythia to think that he prefers Fae drinks over human ones. He doesn’t, but of course, Clythia would never care about that. She simply drains her glass and refills it, still grinning like this is all some kind of joke.

It doesn’t take long for the effect to set in. Her face twists in confusion, then pain, as she presses a hand against her stomach. Coughs. She takes another sip of her wine, then coughs again.

“Something…” She presses a hand against her stomach. “Something is wrong. Jurian, I…”

Jurian remains sitting in the grass as she doubles over in pain. When Clythia coughs this time, blood splatters into the grass and Jurian is a little worried. He never saw the effects ground ash wood has on a faerie, and since he wasn’t sure about the dosage, he decided to be safe and added a bit more. He just wants to stun her, though. For the message he wants to send, it simply wouldn’t do to have her die this quickly.

Fortunately for him, Clythia doesn’t die. She simply coughs up a bit more blood and convulses on the ground for a while before she finally falls still. Jurian gets up and carefully approaches. He gives Clythia a sharp kick in the side, but she doesn’t stir. Good.

Dragging her across the ground is far harder than Jurian imagined. He only has to walk for a short distance, but Clythia is far heavier than he estimated and her limp body is unwieldy and keeps getting caught on roots.

When he finally reaches the ash cross he prepared in the morning, he is out of breath. He drops Clythia to the ground and frowns. Getting her up there will be a challenge. He picks up the piece of rope he had lying at ready and ties it around the crossbeam so that it forms lashes for Clythia’s arms. Still, it takes him three attempts to get Clythia up. By the time he has her securely tied to the cross, she is stirring. He has to be quick now.

Still, Jurian hesitates as he picks up the ash spikes he carved from branches earlier. He knows this is necessary if he wants to keep Clythia’s powers contained, but something in him hesitates. Until he remembers his friends, mutilated and spiked to stakes by Amarantha. He angles the spike and begins.

Clythia wakes at the second spike. She begins to thrash and scream, but Jurian doesn’t stop. He feels strangely detached from his body, like he is watching his hands move from the outside, without any real control over his movements. Three spikes later, Jurian is done. His hands are bloody, and he looks down at them, almost surprised that they belong to him. They don’t seem like his hands at all.

“Jurian,” Clythia moans. Her eyes crack open, but her head remains hanging limply to the side. “Jurian, what are you doing?”

“Do you remember our second meeting?” Jurian asks. “The meeting when you lured me out of my camp and kept me busy while your sister slaughtered my entire camp?”

Clythia shakes her head ever so slightly. “Please…” She whispers.

“When I got back,” Jurian presses on, “my soldiers were dead. All of them. But my commanders, the ones I had been closest to… they had been tortured. Spiked to stakes and left for me to find.” He steps forward. Fury is burning in him like fire, drowning out all other feelings. “You and your sister, you did that. You took everything from me.”

Clythia’s eyes widen. “No,” she whispers. Even now, at the very end, she still seems unwilling to grasp the truth of their situation. “I just wanted to save you. I did it for us.”

There is no us, Jurian thinks and draws his knife. “Then consider this a sign of my gratitude,” he says and slices the knife over her arm. When she screams, it sounds like revenge.

----

Now that the official part of the ceremony is over, the celebration has started. Long tables with an assortment of different kinds of food have been laid out and in the centre of the courtyard, space has been cleared for dancing. Miryam and Drakon are walking around, still hand in hand, accepting congratulations and talking to guests.

Miryam picks up another sun cake from one of the plates standing around and plops it into her mouth. It tastes wonderfully sweet and she decides that this is her new favourite food. It’s been a long time since she’s been this happy, or felt this light.

A green-skinned faerie with six spindly arms and roots growing from her head steps forward and bows to them. Miryam seems to remember her as a member of Drakon’s council. (She makes a mental note to learn the names as soon as possible.)

“Congratulations on the marriage, Your Highness,” she says.

“Thank you, Dina,” Drakon says with a smile.

Dina turns to Miryam and inclines her head again. “How do you like Erithia so far, Princess?”

Getting used to that title will take a while. Being called “Lady” was strange enough already, but “Princess” is another step further. And the bowing…

“It’s very beautiful,” Miryam says and smiles. “I still have much to learn about the workings of your court, of course.”

Dina smiles. “I can imagine.” She inclines her head another time and retreats.

Miryam picks up another sun cake. “I really love those,” she tells Drakon.

He takes up a cake of his own. “Do you want to dance?”

Miryam looks to the dancing floor. She knows the dance, at least in some variation, but there are some twists in this version that are unfamiliar to her. Which might be because those variations seem to rely heavily on the dancing partners having wings, since part of the dance takes place in the air. Mor and Andromache are dancing as well, though, and they simply leave out the flying part, so it seems possible.

“Sure,” she says. “It looks fun.”

Together, they walk over to the dance floor but wait at the side for the musicians to begin the next song. When they do, they step forward, other pairs making space for them.

The music begins slowly, allowing them to take the first few steps more slowly. Then, the music quickens and so do their steps. Miryam has never been the most sure-footed dancer, but Drakon leads the way with the quiet confidence of years of practice (and gracefully ignores the times Miryam steps on his feet).

They twirl over the dancing floor, moving closer and closer together. All around them, other pairs are dancing, but right now, they might as well have been the only two people in the world. Miryam feels like her heart is beating in tact with the music as it moves towards its crescendo.

“You trust me?” Drakon asks.

“Yes,” Miryam answers breathlessly.

Drakon moves his hands to her waist. As the pairs around them take to the air, he flares his wings and lifts them both off the ground. Air rushes past Miryam’s face and she yelps. Then, she is weightless, spinning through the air.

“All good?” Drakon asks as they spin through the air, twist around each other again and again.

Miryam tilts her head backwards and laughs. She loves flying, loves the feeling of weightlessness, of absolute freedom. The dance ends far too soon and Drakon lowers them back to the ground.

“You want to go again?” Drakon asks. He is out of breath but smiling with a giddiness that is certainly reflected on Miryam’s face.

She nods. “Of course!”

 They dance until they are both out of breath and sore. Only then do they step off the dancing floor, laughing and clinging to each other, and walk over to the food. Miryam eats until her stomach hurts. She only notices that the sun has already set when they pause next to one of the lampions that have been set up all over the courtyard.

“Drakon,” she says softly, “I think it’s time.”

Yesterday, Ravenia sent a message that she wants Drakon to meet her two hours after sunset. Miryam and Drakon both decided to go, although neither of them even pretended that there is a sensible reason behind it. No, they just really want to see the look on Ravenia’s face when she finds out what they did. Miryam isn’t entirely sure why she wants to go so badly. Maybe it is spite. Or she wants to proof to herself that she can face Ravenia and walk away victorious, that no matter how scared she may be, she can and will win this.

Drakon looks up at the sky. “Probably.”

Fortunately for them, it is tradition in Erithia for the couple to sneak away at their own marriage. Whoever notices that they are gone first is considered lucky for the next year. So when they simply vanish off their own wedding, no one will think anything of it.

“I’ll get us a distraction, then,” Miryam says.

Drakon nods and wraps his arms around her. Miryam picks out two strings across the room and twists them together. She doesn’t use enough power for them to hold, and as soon as she lets go, they spring apart. Sparks fly through the air and those are actually visible to the bystanders. People point, stop and stare. No one pays attention to them.

“Now,” Miryam whispers to Drakon.

He flares his wings and sends them both shooting into the air. For a moment, Miryam sees the celebration stretching out below. Then, Drakon turns right and they are gone over the edge of the roof.

Drakon lands on a windowsill on the other side of the palace. He flares his wings wide for balance, Miryam grips for the window frame. The ground is very far below. A good thing I’m not scared of heights, Miryam thinks.

“You take the wards, I deal with the lock?” Drakon asks and fishes a piece of wire out of his pocket.

“Sure.” Miryam flares her hands and two of the strings that form the wards move apart to create an opening. She grins. “Done.”

“Oh.” Drakon picks up his wire and sets to work on the lock. “We’re breaking into our own palace,” he mutters as the lock clicks and the window springs open.

“Fun, right?” Miryam asks and slides into the room. Drakon has a bit more difficulty climbing in, his wings keep getting in the way.

“I have clothes prepared,” he says once he’s inside and points to a pile that’s lying on a table. “So we won’t end up ruining these.”

Getting out of the dress turns out to be nearly as difficult as getting in. It is a small relief that Drakon struggles almost as much. In the end, they both have to help each other out of their clothes before they can change into something less formal.

“I’ll open us a window in the anti-winnowing wards,” Miryam says.

She already identified the wards she needs to work on, but opening them without doing any permanent damage takes a bit longer. When she is finally done, she nods to Drakon and he winnows them both away.

They land just outside of the wards surrounding the Lake Palace. Drakon straightens his clothes and smiles at her.

“I’d say that was an expertly done sneak-out.”

Miryam nods and looks over the dark lake towards the towering palace. She wonders if Ravenia is already there, if she brought Artax.

It has been years since Miryam last saw her. There was that one meeting at the very beginning of the war, the failed attempt to end the fighting, but beyond that, they had no reason to meet. Leaders of the Alliance and Loyalists respectively they might be, might have this entire war stretched out between them, but they only ever faced each other through others.

Miryam does her best to pretend her heart isn’t thundering in her chest like it wants to jump right out and run away as she walks up to the Lake Palace together with Drakon. She is terrified, and beyond angry that she is. To be afraid of Ravenia means to give her power, and Miryam refuses to do that. Today, she wins. And she will feel like it.

She holds her hand up over the crystal bowl at the entrance, watches blood drip into it and swears neutrality. Light shoots into the air and the wards around the palace quiver. Next to her, Drakon seems increasingly nervous.

Miryam reaches for his hand. “She can’t do anything to us,” she says softly. “Today, we win.”

Drakon nods and squeezes her hand. Together, they walk into the palace’s foyer. The door swings open and there, just on the other side of the room, wait Ravenia and Artax.

Miryam’s resolve not to be afraid lasts only for three frantic heartbeats. Her entire body seizes up, every instinct screams at her to cower. But she won’t. Never again. She forces her spine to straighten, calm to fill her veins.

Both Ravenia and Artax are entirely still. They are both dressed in their finery, Ravenia in court clothes and Artax in the Guild’s colours. They look like statues, like the stuff of Miryam’s every nightmare.

Ravenia’s dark eyes linger on Miryam for a moment and she stares back as coolly as she can manage. After what seems like an eternity, Ravenia finally turns her focus on Drakon.

“I see you’ve brought reinforcement,” she says. “I can’t say I’m surprised you are hiding behind that mortal, but surely you know that she won’t be able to help you here. The fact that you’re here alone is proof that you are defeated.”

“I didn’t come here to marry you,” Drakon says. Miryam is proud of how resolute he sounds, even though she can sense his fear. “I came to tell you that I won’t.”

Ravenia gives him a sharp smile. “Surely Your Highness remembers the punishments for breaking a contract.”

Today, we win, Miryam thinks and smiles back at Ravenia. “Surely Your Majesty remembers that this particular contract allows exceptions.”

Momentary confusion flickers over Ravenia’s face, but she quickly reins it in. Artax looks between Miryam and Drakon, though, frowning. Then, his eyes widen, something like shock flickering over his features.

“Your Majesty – “ he begins, stepping forward.

“We married,” Drakon says, reaching for Miryam’s hand.

“And we are mates,” she adds sweetly. “So you’ll find, Ravenia, that your precious marriage contract is no longer worth the parchment it’s written on.”

Ravenia stares at her. “You…” It’s the first time Miryam ever heard her fumble for words. “There’s no way this is real! You cheated.”

Artax is watching her, now, unblinking. “You forged it. The mating bond.”

Miryam squeezes Drakon’s hand and looks between the two people she hates most in the world. Smiles. “But surely you know that mating bonds are the will of the Cauldron,” she says. “It’s fate. If you’ve got a problem with it, you ought to take it up with the Mother.”

Artax steps forward, quick as lightning. Suddenly, the air is heavy with his power. Around them, the wards tremble in warning. “You arrogant little piece of trash, who do you think you are? I’m going to - “

“Go on,” Miryam interrupts. Her heart is thundering, but she still steps forward. “Attack me while under a neutrality spell. Go right ahead and see what it gets you.” Adrenalin is thrumming through her veins and she almost hopes that Artax will start this fight.

“Artax,” Ravenia snaps at him when he doesn’t step back immediately.

That one word is all it takes. His power deflates and he lowers his head, steps back to his position a step behind Ravenia. It’s like a weight vanished from over them, like the air has finally become breathable again.

Ravenia turns her attention on Miryam and Drakon. “Do not think I will simply let this slide,” she says. Her voice is a knife that cuts through the air. “You might have won today, but be assured that you will pay tomorrow.”

Drakon flinches slightly, but Miryam meets her gaze calmly. “You’re the only one who’ll pay,” she says. “I will make sure of it.”

Ravenia snorts. Without another word, she storms past them and out of the room. Artax follows closely behind, not without shooting a look that promises vengeance at Miryam.

----

There’s blood on Jurian’s hands, covering his skin up to his elbows. Blood splattered all over his clothes. In some places, it already dried rusty brown, in others, it is still bright red.

Bile rises in Jurian’s throat, he forces it back down. He has been covered in more blood than that and it’s been years since it last bothered him. There’s no reason this should be different. No reason the blood should feel like a stain this time.

He breathes slowly through his mouth, careful to avoid the stench of blood in the air, and turns around to take one last look at Clythia. Now that she is hanging limply on the ash cross, she no longer looks so high and mighty. There’s no way anyone could imagine she ever made his life this terrible.

Jurian turns around and walks back to Bear. The horse shies away from the blood on his clothes, shaking its huge, fuzzy head, but a murmured word in its ear calms it. Jurian climbs into the saddle and rides back to his camp.

The soldiers at duty look at him strangely when they see him covered in blood like this, but no one asks what happened. Without a word to anyone, Jurian returns to his tent. He methodically strips off his clothes, dips a piece of cloth into a bucket of water that stands ready and begins to clean himself. Soon, the water has turned deep pink.

Jurian finds new clothes in his chest and dresses. Then, he sits down at his desk and begins a note. It’s quick, only a couple of sentences.

Come to the source of the river Thexi. You’ll find something that belongs to you and that you should have taken better care of. Jurian.

----

“There’s something I want to show you,” Drakon says. They are standing together on the bridge outside of the Lake Palace, looking out at the dark water. “It’s… it’s the reason for this entire matter.” He gestures vaguely in the direction Ravenia stormed off in.

Miryam arches an eyebrow. “Consider me intrigued.”

She has been trying to figure out the reason for Ravenia’s interest in Drakon for years now. So far, she hasn’t been able to come up with a single theory. But maybe now that they are married, Drakon is finally allowed to tell her.

Together, they walk out of the room and towards the edge of the wards. As soon as they are outside, Drakon winnows them both away.

They reappear in a dark forest. It’s a jungle, but not one Miryam recognizes. Not Erithia, unless she’s sorely mistaken. The plants are different, the trees bigger and with broader leaves. All around them, flowers grow, their petals glowing blue, red and orange in the moonlight. Miryam reaches out for the closest plant, a glowing pink orchid, and reaches out for it. She’s never seen bioluminescent plants before.

Only then does she notice the strings. There are many of them here, far more than anywhere else. This might just be the biggest concentration of strings Miryam has ever seen occurring naturally. The very air seems to be vibrating with magic.

Miryam turns around to Drakon, who is watching her. “Where are we?” She asks.

“An island,” Drakon says. “About a hundred miles off the Continent’s eastern coast.”

Miryam frowns. “I don’t hear the ocean.”

“It’s a big island – about half the size of Prythian – and we are near the centre.”

Miryam gapes at him. “Half the size of…” She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head. “This is the secret? An island half the size of Prythian no one knows about?”

Drakon winces. “It’s part of the secret.” He plucks one of the flowers from a bush and puts it behind Miryam’s ear. “The less weird part, I’m afraid.”

The less weird part? Well, Miryam’s day is certainly taking an interesting turn. “Go on,” she says, looking around this strange, magical island. “It takes more than a little weirdness to shock me,” she teases.

Drakon makes a face that can only be interpreted as extreme doubt. It’s not reassuring.

“This is Cretea,” he says.

“Cretea,” Miryam repeats. The name sounds familiar, but she can’t quite place it. She knows all the Continental countries, and this isn’t one of them. But what… And then, she remembers. “Cretea as in the island that the Mother used as her seat of power in your myths?” She asks slowly. “Cretea as in the island she allegedly created and that vanished after her disappearance? That Cretea?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

Miryam nods slowly. Up until ten minutes ago, she would have argued that Cretea doesn’t exist and likely never did. Now she is standing on it. Wonderful. Maybe she should sit down.

“And how did you end up knowing the location of an island that Fae across the world have been searching for millennia?” She asks.

Drakon starts playing around with the hem of his clothes. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he says. “And there’s something else I wanted to show you. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Miryam nods and together, they set off. Drakon seems to know where they are going, although Miryam cannot make out any path in the jungle they landed in.

Cretea is beautiful in an eery, strange way. Miryam barely dares to step anywhere for fear of accidentally destroying something, of leaving a stain on this place. Like most humans, doesn’t believe in gods, but she can easily understand why the Fae might have once looked at this place and concluded that it must have been home to something divine.

“What do you know of the story surrounding Cretea and the Mother?” Drakon asks.

“Only the barest details, really.”

She knows enough to understand the basics of the Fae’s religion and growing up, she heard the stories in passing a few times, but they never really interested her. What use are gods when you are getting enslaved in their name, when they never move to interfere while you are beaten and murdered?

“I’ll shorten the beginning, then,” Drakon says. “All that’s important about it for this particular story is that the Mother created this world, using the Cauldron as its anchor, and then made all kinds of different creatures to live on it, each with their own strengths so that they might learn from each other.”

Miryam nods. In the Black Land, they tell the story differently. There, the Mother loved some of the creatures she made better than others, created some to rule and others to be rules. She likes the Seraphim version better, although it still doesn’t make her particularly fond of this goddess of theirs.

“After that work was done,” Drakon continues, “and things had settled in our world, the Mother settled down. She created an island for herself, where she might live away from the dealings of the world, and where her people might seek her out to ask for help.”

She should have helped my people, Miryam thinks, but doesn’t say it. This is, after all, only a story.

“One of the people who came to her,” Drakon continues, “was a Fae named Daín. There are different versions of how exactly it went, but fact is that him and the Mother fell in love. She made him into her consort and gifted him a sword she had created from the Cauldron. A blade they called Godmaker, because it gave Daín powers larger than those of an ordinary Fae as well as a longer life. They whoever wielded this sword was undefeatable, that simply being touched by its blade meant to lose your soul.”

Above them, a bird lets out a shill scream and Miryam looks up just in time to see a green tail vanish in the leaves.

“For a millennium or two, all went well,” Drakon says. “But then, an enemy rose up. A witcher who envied the Mother her power.”

“That does sound like something a witcher might do,” Miryam says, thinking of Artax.

“He killed Daín,” Drakon says, “and stole his sword. The Mother caught and punished him, but even she could not bring Daín back and without him, she had lost her will to live in this world. She vanished and never returned.”

He stops before a rough stone wall that looms up in front of them. Only at the second look does Miryam notice the door the bronze door that is laid into the rock. Drakon fishes around in his pocket and produces an ancient-looking iron key.

“And what do you have to do with all that?” Miryam asks.

“My ancestors were close followers of the Mother,” Drakon says. “Confidants of hers, almost. Before the Mother vanished, she cast spells around Cretea to hide it from anyone who might go looking for it, and tasked my family with its protection.”

Miryam rubs her neck. I don’t believe in gods, though, she thinks. “I’ve never heard this version of the story before,” she says.

“Because no one knows. No one but the members of my family and the current High Priestess are allowed to know about Cretea.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” Miryam mutters. And it means that Drakon’s family is way older – and way stranger – than she would have thought possible. If they were around for the time when the Mother allegedly lived, that means Drakon’s family if roughly ten thousand years old. “And a lot of trouble to go through for an island.”

“It’s not about the island,” Drakon says and pulls the door open.

It must have been inlaid with lead, some protective spells on top of it, because as soon as it opens, a wave of power swaps out of the hole yawning behind. Miryam flinches back.

Never, not once in her life, has she felt this much power. It makes the hairs on her entire body stand up. A shiver runs down her spine and her own power trembles – whether in excitement or fear, she can’t tell. Even the strings around her seem nervous. They constantly move around, mingle with each other and break apart again. The entire commotion gives Miryam a headache.

“It’s about the sword,” Drakon says. The power in the air seems to bother him less, either because he doesn’t feel it as much as she does, or because he is used to it. “That’s what’s hidden here, that’s what my family is charged to protect. And that’s what Ravenia is after.”

Miryam can barely concentrate on his words over the power that is still thrumming through the air. “You mean you have this sword in here?” She asks. Her fingers are trembling.

Drakon nods. “You want to see it?”

Of course Miryam wants to see it.

Walking into the cave is like swimming against a strong current. The power in the air makes it hard to breathe and Miryam grips Drakon’s hand so tightly it probably hurts. The tunnel is lit by bioluminescent plants that cast an eery light into the corridor. It takes a bent and they are standing near an artfully carved doorway. Magic is shimmering in it, some kind of ward. Drakon stops pauses.

“There’s a spell,” he says. “To keep out intruders. You need to face your greatest fear.”

Miryam nods. “That’s no problem.”

Drakon frowns. Clearly, this is not the type of response he was expecting. “Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yes.” Miryam takes a deep breath and steps forward. “I did that already.”

Mist rises in the doorway. It hangs in the air for a moment, then forms a figure. For the second time in one evening, Miryam comes face to face with Ravenia. This time, flames flicker around the queen’s fingers and she holds a short spear in her hand.

“You can’t go through here,” she says. “You are too scared.”

“Scared or not, I’m still winning against you.” Miryam steps forward and meets the illusion’s dark eyes. (It is far easier than with the real Ravenia.) “And now get out of my way.”

Ravenia remains standing in the doorway for a moment longer, then, the mist crumbles. Miryam smiles over her shoulder at Drakon and walks through the doorway.

The room she steps into is empty, save for a sword that’s laid out in its centre. It is the epicentre of the power in the air, radiating so much sheer power that it slams into Miryam like a physical blow. Even the strings shy away from it, giving it a wide berth. Miryam realizes she is trembling. Her power flares painfully and the power is pressing against so hard she can barely breath.

It’s simply too much.

Miryam turns around and stumbles back out of the room, scattering the mist in the doorway. She nearly stumbles into Drakon’s arms, who catches her before she can fall.

“Miryam.” He grips her by the arms to steady her. “What happened?”

Miryam can only shake her head. She is gasping for air.

“I don’t believe this!” A new voice interrupts.

Miryam yelps and spins around, only to come face to face with a dark-haired man. “Ghost!” She rubs a hand over her face. “What… What are you doing here?”

“I have been here for the last couple of millennia,” Ghost says with a jerky shrug. “You are the one who’s new.” He turns to Drakon. “You married?”

“Yes.” Drakon reaches for her hand. “Miryam, is everything alright?”

She nods. Now that she is a bit further away from the sword, she can actually breathe again. “Just a bit much power,” she says and turns to Ghost. “And what do you mean you’ve been here for millennia?”

“I’m trapped here,” Ghost says. “Have been for a while. It’s punishment.”

Miryam stares between him and Drakon. Millennia. He has been trapped here for millennia. Alone, in this cave. What kind of crime could warrant such a punishment?

“Hasn’t Drakon told you?” Ghost asks. “I’m the big bad witcher who stole the sword.” His voice is biting with sarcasm. “And because of that, I obviously deserve eternal imprisonment. Who cares about my reasons?” Something in his tone shifts as he continues, like the edge breaks and leaves only raw splinters behind. “So I’ve been stuck here. For several millennia, alone. Fun, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Miryam very badly wants to reach for his hand or squeeze his shoulder in comfort, but he’s incorporeal, so that option falls flat. “That’s terrible.” She turns to Drakon. “Can’t we do anything about this?”

Drakon looks down at his shoes. “Ghost is tied to the sword,” he says. “I thought maybe you could change the bond so that he can at least move freely around Cretea.” He shrugs a bit helplessly. “I had meant to ask you, but after it almost went wrong that one time, I couldn’t take the sword off Cretea again and I wasn’t allowed to bring you here.”

It takes Miryam a moment to catch on to what Drakon is implying. Looking back, she should have probably figured it out earlier, but she was a little caught up on the fact that her partner – husband, she will have to get used to calling him that – comes from a family that apparently owns both the most sacred island in the entire Fae mythology and the most powerful magical item Miryam has ever seen.

“You mean you took this sword off Cretea so that I could talk to Ghost?” She asks slowly. “If… if Ravenia had gotten her hands on that sword, you…” She shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair.

Drakon steps from one foot to the other. “I was careful,” he says. “And I couldn’t let you die.”

Miryam sighs. “I love you,” she says softly. (Ghost makes a noise that sounds like aww.) “And obviously, I’m grateful that you and Ghost helped me and I didn’t die.” She truly is. But especially now that they are married, there’s something she needs to make clear, before a situation like this repeats itself and goes badly. She squeezes Drakon’s hand and waits until he looks up before she continues, “But you have to promise me that you won’t ever do anything that could cost us this war. Not for me.”

----

Like always, the entire backstory surrounding the Mother, Daín and Ghost has been created together with @croissantcitysucks (I hope you liked how I wrote it here Lyn😉)

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

“Delicious”.

Everything Taglist: @gold-dragon-slayer @your-internet-granny

@darkwhisperswolf​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @blonddnamedhandz​ @thelastemzy​ @inforapound​ @supermassiveblackhope​ @captstefanbrandt​ @roonil-wxzlib​  @syreni-dea​ @cynthianokamaria​ @rosiebrosie @loliismutt@pinkisokay @heavenly1927​ @annekleyn​  @rose-02468​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ 

Warnings: smut. Modern hvitserk. slight AU.

“i really don’t want to get up” hvitserk mumbles into the blankets, causing her to smile through her just awakening state.

she turns just slightly to peak at him, seeing him already looking at her.

of course he knew she was already awake, he had held her all night to tell which breathing pattern she had when she was sleeping, dreaming, or waking up, he had known she was just coming out of her sweet dreams.

and he couldn’t help but hope he was in at least one of them.

she moves closer to him, feeling his body warmth ready to send her into another bout of sleep she didn’t know she wanted until his bare skin was against hers.

“neither do i” she whispers, voice soft and sweet, her eyes glossy from sleep, hvitserk shuddering when her fingers started tracing the skin of his waist.

“i guess we have to?”.

she hums, feeling his arms wrapping around her, feeling her flimsy bralette tickly his skin, her breasts pressed against him, making him fully aware of how naked she almost was.

his hands travels lower, his breath catching when he feels her panties tight against her skin.

the pink ones he adored oh so much. the ones that she danced for him in that one friday night. the ones that he bought her for fun, not thinking she’d actually like them as much as she did.

she loved the way she felt in them, comfortable, sexy, cute and fun.

fucking pink panties making his mind go blank, the only thing surrounding his mind was the idea of him ripping them off herm settling between those pretty legs and taking her just the way she liked, until she was screaming his name loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear who was inside her.

which a few of the residents had complained about before.

“15 more minutes” she says, gently pressing a kiss to his sternum before nestling her nose against his neck, inhaling his scent.

her leg moves up and goes over his lower belly, nudging her calf against his thigh.

“i don’t know if that’ll be enough time” hvitserk mutters, running his flat palm along her leg.

“enough time for what?” she asks, looking at him with confusion.

“for me to fuck you one last time before work” he whispers, acting as if it were just a regular day to day sentence that someone would say to a colleague at work. a simple greeting or asking about family life.

she pauses her movement, staring up at him as he keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

she can feel him throb against her thigh, and by god if she wasn’t already beginning to wetten for him.

“you think you could fuck me in 20 then?” she asks, and hvitserk ever so gently thrusts up, running his hardening length against her.

“definitely”.

“i’m ready”.

hvitserk moves from her grip, sliding out from under the warm blanket and hovers over her, his cock already leaking from that look in her eye, and those words she whispered lustfully.

he leans in to kiss her, savouring her taste, the way she moved her lips against his in a way that practically screamed for him to take her any way he wanted.

her hands play with his hair, tugging, scraping her nails against his scalp, making him groan in her mouth, causing her to smile against his lips.

he slowly slipped his tongue in, giving her a chance to feel him, and he knew how much she loved this.

she rubs herself against him as he took hs time in sliding his tongue along hers, his chest going up and down quickly as his heart rate increased.

he felt his lower half burn for her, aching to just have her tight pussy around him, sucking him in and aiding him in getting rid of that desire for her.

but, truly, that desire never faded.

he parts from her, taking her bottom lip between his teeth before making his way down her body, making sure to touch and show her how much he appreciated every inch of her, how much he respected her.

she grips the sheets, waiting for him to mouth at her, giving her twinging clit that was begging for affection.

“hvitserk” she whimpers, her words quickly fading into a deep moan as he licks one, long stripe up her lips.

his lids are hooded as his hands come to wrap around her thighs, keeping them steady, and also squeezing them, showing her how much he loved them.

“keep still for me, honey”.

she throws her head back, unable to watch as he takes her swollen clit in his mouth, softly sucking, not enough to over stimulate her too quickly.

“my pretty baby all open for me” he mumbles against her, sighing into her when another pool of arousal slips from her and onto his lip, his tongue quick to swipe it off with his tongue.

“god, yes” she mewls, mouth open in that silent scream hvitserk loved.

he can’t help but rub his dick against the mattress, trying to get some sort of friction.

he continuously eats at her, its sensual, slow, passionate, right before he got into pounding her into the bed, ready to crack that fucking wood frame.

he feels her ready to cum, and that’s when he decides to stop, making her whimper and thrust her hips against him.

“delicious” hvitserk says, smirking at her when he slowly licks his fingers clean, and he can see her clenching, her belly tightening from the look in his eyes.

he crawls up her, his throbbing dick rubbing against her body, making him falter his movements for just a moment.

“you ready for me baby?” he asks, kissing her cheek, closing his eyes as he rests his body between her legs.

“what about you?” she asks quietly, motioning to his lower region, but he just shakes his head.

“i cant bare to wait any longer to be in you”.

she wraps her arms around his middle, wrapping her thighs around him, calf  running against his.

he takes ahold of himself, tapping it against her clit, gathering her wetness to coat him.

she moans so gently as he does so, but that moan becomes a full on wail when he enters her.

he has to take a moment, take a breath, resting his forehead against hers as he becomes fully seated inside her. feeling how tight and wet she was.

“fuck. you’re swallowing me so good, baby” hvitserk cooes, his hands pressing against the mattress above her head as prepares to move.

“ready?” he whispers, and she nods, biting her lip as he starts rocking into her.

the sounds were pure sinful, the slick sounds of him thrusting in and out made both of them blush, but they couldn’t care less what sounds they made.

“faster” she groans out, her hand going to his neck, digging her nails into the side of his throat.

he grounds out a moan, doing as she said.

increasingly they got louder, sweatier, dirtier.

hvitserk fully loved seeing her under him like this, spread out, mouth open in sheer pleasure, her body shaking as she lustfully called his name.

knowing he was the only one to be with her like this, see her cum for him over and over, just by his words or his fingers or his cock made him swell with pride.

he craved knowing how much she loved him.

his one hand moves lower and ever so gently he traces his finger over her mouth, silently asking her to open it for him.

and she does, and he slides his fingers in, moaning when she sucks them, biting them.

“good girl”.

she clenches at the name and he can’t help but roll his eyes back at the feeling.

he knew they couldnt last much longer.

so he picks it up.

he sits up on his knees, feet under him, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her up at an angle so she laid against his thighs, and he goes wild.

he’s fucking her hard, rough, fast and deep, enough to have her thighs quivering and her moans turning to eclaimes of pleasure.

hvitserk takes one hand and brushes his hair back from his face, not wanting anything to block his view of his pretty girl taking him so well.

when she starts fucking back against him, that’s when he’s almost ready to lose it.

“so good for me, baby. you always take me so damn good”.

she can’t respond, too lost in his cock hitting that spot within her.

her wet pussy is clenching harder and harder around him, and hvitserk looks down and sees just how wet his legs were becoming.

“you ready to cum, sweetheart?”.

she nods, whimpering, her hands fisting the sheets.

“go ahead, cum for me, give me all you can”.

and she does, she screams his name, her hips moving upwards, so far that he has to grab them and keep them still.

but he doesnt stop, he elongates her orgasm as much as he can, his cock sliding in and out of her slippery pussy.

and just seeing her release all over him, seeing her react to him, it makes him fall with her.

he cums loud, his dick pulsating with in her, shooting all of his sticky substance within her, coating her and filling her to the brim, watching as it mixed with her slick and spill from her.

they’re panting, twitching, eyes closed as they come down from their luscious highs, gripping each other.

he gently moves her off him and back under him as he slides over her, claiming her mouth sloppily with his.

she looks over at the clock and begins to giggle.

he follows her eyes and realizes that it was way past 20 minutes and can’t help but join in her laughter.

“we’re gonna be late” she mumbles, a content smile on her face, not even bothered.

he hums, running his flat palm up her thigh, dragging his nails along her skin, making her mewl and long for more of his touch.

“then we may as well skip the rest of the day then” he says, playfully smacking her ass and throwing the blankets off the bed as he kisses her through her laughter.

[vintagerry]

Help?

Authors note: I know it’s been a really long time since I released anything but here we are! The hyped up virgin!harry fic! A huge thank you to @sweetcreatureinthedark for all the help in editing and making this fic what it is now! I love you 💕💕

featuring: smut, blowjob, cursing obviously, I think that’s it??

Harry wasn’t exactly popular in high school. He was the quiet one who would simply get his work done and go home so he could play music or write poems. His social life wasn’t all that intense until a bubbly girl with a bright smile bounced into his chemistry class.

Ever since that day the beautiful girl loaned him a pencil, Harry was whipped.

Barely a month after their first meeting, Harry and Y/N became attached at the hip, spending every lunch period, spare and after school time together. After the first month of being best friends, Y/N got tired of waiting for the sweet curly-haired boy to ask her out, so she had to make a move on her own. During study hall one day, Harry had been waiting for Y/N in the back of the library, only to see her bounce inside with bright red lipstick and excitement in her words. “Harold!” she sang as she sat beside him, leaning over and smiling wider than before. “I have something for you, close your eyes, m’kay?” Harry raised an eyebrow suspiciously but simply let her do what she needed to do.

His eyes closed softly and without a delay, her lips were on his. The feeling was very new, Harry hadn’t kissed anyone before. Her lips were so soft, he had no idea how to react.

Harry tried to move against her but it was kind of awkward and messy. Y/N giggled shyly and moved away. “Sorry! I had to," she paused, feeling his reaction before continuing to ramble. "I felt like we were there, but we’re not, I guess." Y/N rocked on her heels anxiously, "I’m sorry! Don't let me make this weird.”

Harry listened to her babble, trying to calm her down, reaching for her arm with a soothing yet nervous tone. “It’s not that. No, um, I actually," Harry paused, trying to figure out how to word this confession, "I quite enjoyed that. I just didn’t, I’ve never -"

“You’ve never been kissed?” Y/N cut him off with a louder exclamation than she meant to.

“Little louder, petal, don’t think the history wing heard you,” Harry blushed, gently tugging her hand to move him closer to her, his cheeks flushed as he looked away from her and around the room.

Throughout the afternoon of studying, Harry’s fingers kept travelling up to his lips, tracing where they had met hers. As the days passed, Harry found himself daydreaming about the way her lips felt against his, how he would kill to feel that all the time. Meanwhile, Y/N found herself remembering fondly how adorable Harry looked with her red lipstick smudged across his lips and a deep blush in his cheeks, how cute he would look with a collection of her lipsticks smeared upon his lips and chin.

The relationship between Harry and Y/N wasn’t much different after the incident in the library, though the two were increasingly affectionate in public settings, which was new. Instead of walking alongside each other with arms almost touching, Y/N would sneak their hands together, her fingers laced through his, prompting a blush to take over Harry’s cheeks and nose. 'Movie Night Fridays' was the first promise Harry and Y/N had made to each other that alluded to something more than friends. Casually sitting around her bedroom after the first time he had gone to her house to work on a chemistry project, he mentioned that his weekends were always too boring. Taking his hint, Y/N proposed that they'd watch an awful 'chick flick' (although Harry found that term quite demeaning) and then fall asleep eating cheap pizza and an arrangement of their favorite snacks. That first week after the kiss, 'Movie Night Friday' was seemingly better than any other. On occasion, YN would cuddle herself into Harry's side, claiming that she was a bit too cold and he was warm.

Now, a week and a kiss later, YN was tucked right into Harry's side, and his heart was beating unusually fast. Her lips were so inviting to him, he just wanted to taste them again. Harry wasn’t paying much attention to the horrid movie playing ahead, instead, he spent his time just looking at how Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered when she blinked, at how her nose crinkled at corny jokes from the main characters on screen. Harry had abandoned his attention to the movie, opting instead to admire the beautiful girl attached to his hip. There was something about the way she appeared when she was interested in a movie, eyebrows drawn together in a focused manner, her expertly painted nude lips pulled between her teeth as an exciting scene unfolded in front of her.

YN also used the dark room to her advantage, especially on the occasion that Harry turned away. Her eyes danced across his soft features, the lips that she had felt against hers in the library, the nose that she often tapped with her finger to tease him, the eyelashes that she openly envied. All of the beautiful things about him seemed to stand out even more in the state she was in. YN was trying, she really was, but every time she saw Harry’s tongue dart out to wet his flushed lips, her heart skipped a beat.

She couldn’t take it anymore, she decided. Making some sort of move felt like her best option to have her lips on his. “Ba-," she quips, a pet name almost slipped out as she spoke to get his attention. "Harry?” Upon hearing his name, Harry turned his head to face YN, smiling at the delicate expression she had on her face.

“Yeah?” he replied softly, not expecting what would come next.

As if in slow motion, Y/N brought her hands up to cup his soft jaw and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was different than the one they shared in the library. The two simply absorbed one another’s breaths. Harry reluctantly broke the kiss and looked at YN below him, her lips slick and swollen, her eyes glossed over.

“What was that for?” he asked sheepishly, she simply giggled and pressed a soft peck to his lips once more.

“May I?” she asked softly, gesturing to straddle his lap. He nodded nervously, pulling her up onto his thighs.

“You’re pretty," Harry let out a whispered compliment, using the hand that wasn’t resting extremely softly on her waist to hesitantly coax her into another kiss.

“You’re pretty, too, Harry,” YN whispered against his lips, slowly disconnecting and eyeing over his face. Much to his displeasure, she could feel him begin stirring in his sweats, the grey material contrasting against her skin. He could be felt against her inner thigh, causing a smile to break onto her attempt at a sultry expression. Her confidence shocked him and his inexperience, unsure of how to speak to her in such a sensual way. “I liked the kiss, too," YN whispered before nibbling on his ear. "Maybe just as much as you."

Harry could barely hold himself together, his boner aching against the soft material of his pants while his heart almost exploded out of his sweaty chest. "You did?"

"Could help you with it, if you want."

“Help? You wanna," Harry gulps, trying to maintain his composure, "help me? As in...” His words came out in whimpers, almost involuntary in their sound. This was the closest anyone had ever been to him and he wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it.

“Have a few things we could do, if you’re okay with it. I want to,” Y/N spoke, her confidence increasing quicker as Harry’s shaft nudged against her thigh.

“Do you mean?" Harry tilts his head suggestively, his hands were clammy against her skin. "I’ve never done that or much of anything. You were my first kiss and, um, I -," Harry babbled typically, only to be cut off by her thumb against his lips.

“I can just," YN sighs, unsure of how to word what she is implying, "help you out? Doesn't have to be sex, right now.” Her lips pressed to his neck and the skin behind his ear, coaxing a whimper from his swollen lips. “I was thinking if you’re up for it, I could go down on you." Her mouth immediately stopped moving on his skin and her eyes met his, trying to gauge his reaction. "I don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable though.” Y/N was trying so hard to be careful and attentive, but she really just wanted his cock in her mouth. She hadn’t seen him naked before, feeling him against her was making her mind travel to the dirtiest of places, and she was impressed.

Harry nearly choked on air hearing those words. She wanted to put him in her mouth? She wanted to suck him off? This couldn’t be happening. “Oh no, if you want to I’d love," Harry stops himself, already probably sounding too eager. "I mean, you can if you want to. I can just leave, actually, and um, we can forget about this. You shouldn’t feel pressured just because I’m -." Harry cut himself off with a high pitched moan he didn’t know he could make as he felt Y/N’s hand press against his clothed hard-on. “Or, or you can! I mean,” he breathed, his babbles masked by how much heavier he was breathing, more than he thought was possible.

Y/N slowly moved down his body, sinking to her knees in front of him. “Did you want me to take off my shirt? That’s something I’ve heard of and I don’t know,” Harry questioned, fumbling with the hem of his soft tee.

“You do whatever feels right, I can take off mine if you’d like. It's, y'know, something to look at?” Y/N offered, taking one of his clammy hands in hers.

Harry shook his head. “You don’t have to. Don’t take that as me not wanting to see your boobs, because, God, I’m sure they’re fantastic, I just," he mutters, trying to hold his voice deeper than a high-pitched whimper. "We’ve only kissed, and you’re about to blow me. I'm so, fuck.”

Harry finished his anxious sentence with a moan as Y/N nudged his hips up and pulled his sweats and boxers down, releasing his cock from the cotton confines.

Y/N’s mouth watered at the sight of him. He was even bigger than she had thought, than she had felt, and it was pretty. His head was a shimmering deep red colour just begging to be touched, leaking from the stimulation of her hand on him. “Okay, baby, I’m gonna go slow for you," she whispered reassuringly before kissing his inner thigh softly.

Being cautious so she didn’t scare him away, y/n pressed a feather-light kiss onto his tip before leaving the same down the underside of his shaft. “Just breathe baby, I’m gonna make you feel good.” Harry shuddered at the feeling mixed with the sultry tone of his best friend’s voice. A collection of high pitched whimpers and deep groans escaped Harry’s lips as he felt the warmth of y/n’s mouth on him.

As soon as she wrapped her lips around the leaky head and hollowed her cheeks slightly, Harry was about to burst. “Fuck! I’m gonna- I’m sorry but I’m definitely not gonna last!” There was a whine behind his words as he gripped the couch beside him, close to letting go. “It’s okay baby, I know.” Y/n reassured him between sucks. She began bobbing her head slowly and Harry was a goner.

“Fuck! I’m- I’m cumming!“ He moaned out as his seed spilled into Y/n’s mouth. She moaned softly around him as he came, swallowing all of him. “Was that good for you?” Y/n asked him, a small hint of sarcasm behind her words. “Yes. Yes! Fuck yes it was.” Harry answered eagerly, still catching his breath.

After he calmed down, Harry pulled his pants back up slowly, wincing at the feeling of fabric against his still sensitive shaft. “Uhm...best friends don’t do that kind of stuff...right?” He questioned, hoping he could get some kind of answer. He really liked y/n, always had, and she obviously liked him a little bit, right? She was just on her knees for him, she HAS to like him. “I’m still your best friend, Harry. But, we can be more if you want?” Y/n responded to him, stroking her thumb over his cheek. “More? Like...you and I could be-?” He cut himself off, not sure what word y/n would classify them as. “Dating, Harold. I can be your girlfriend.” She giggled at his nerves, kissing him softly once more.

“Holy shit! I have a girlfriend!” Harry chuckled in disbelief and kissed his girlfriend again.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXI: Treant

There wasn’t much interesting about me. Not really. That wasn’t me being self-deprecating or anything. If anything, I quite liked being in the background. Others around me have always been more interesting, and I was happy enough just to help those others out.

That’s why I worked from childhood through my adulthood in order to become a doctor. It wasn’t like a total dream of mine, and I wasn’t sure if I’d call myself “passionate” (one of my top qualities, I think, is that I’ve been called a dispassionate person. But I shouldn’t humblebrag), but when I was in grade school and saw one of my classmates get injured, I couldn’t help but be compelled to want to help them. Then there were times, like when my sister or my mom would get sick and I’d be like “gee, I wonder what would help them get better.”

Skip past many years of boring details, and the rest is history. Got my own apartment after completing my internship at one of the nearby hospitals. When my sister helped me move in, we found a time travel device in the closet that I mistook for a Nintendo 64. It’s not as interesting of a detail as it seems. Anyway, that aside, there was still work to be had just about every day.

Skip ahead a few more years after that…

...And there was still work to be had.

It was about that time in the morning when it wasn’t yet bright and early and the coffee I poured tasted like sludge. When the showers were scalding and suffocating fumes filled the bathroom, yet when I turned off the shower, I shivered like a nudist at the north pole.

Towel was too small. Quick shimmy and I groaned and threw it in the laundry basket. No one else was around to see me naked, so whatever. Even if there was, my bedroom door was closed. On the bed were my work clothes, which in my groggy state, I tried to fit the shirt on my legs and the pants on my head. After a few tries and tired moans and groans, I got it right. Still, my tie was a little loose.

I’ll fix it on my way there. Or I won’t and I’ll just say I’m setting a new fashion trend.

I glanced down at my limited edition Kamen Rider Black wristwatch and my blood pressure spiked upon noticing the time.

“Fuck,” I cursed, though in my hoarse tiredness, it sounded more like a donkey braying.

Yes, it was ‘fucktime’, that universal concept of that time of day where one looks at the time and exclaims “fuck!” There were many reasons for cursing at a time of day, and it didn’t have to be any time in particular, but the most common reason was due to the situation I was in: I was running late for work.

In a state of fight or flight (which I am always in flight since I could use the exercise), I put a couple of bagel slices into the toaster, wished that my toaster had a turbo speed button, and paced about until those two slices popped up; they weren’t crispy enough, but they’d have to do. Like the skilled painter that I wasn’t, I swiped across the two halves of the bagel with a messy gloop of cream cheese.

No more time left.

I ran out the door, or whatever constituted as a run in my mind, with the bagel halves held tight in my mouth.

This ridiculous display persisted for about...oh, to hell with it, let’s just skip all the embarrassment. Fast forward to when I got to the hospital, drenched in sweat and cream cheese on the cuff of my shirt.

“Ran late again?” The receptionist, I think her name was Wormwood, looked up from her computer. Her thick brown hair was in a bun and she didn’t just have bags under her eyes, but bags under those bags. That’s okay, I’ve had those days as well. From the reflection of her glasses, it looked like she was playing an intense game of Tetris.

“A doctor is never early nor late,” I huffed, trying to sound more self-assured than my short breath would allow.

“Yeah, you wish. Go change your shirt. You’ve got a patient waiting for you in room 413,” she clucked. Was clucked the right descriptor? Well, it was a vague chicken-like tone, so cluck was good enough.

“Why’s it always patients with me?” I joked. She didn’t so much as give a half-hearted chuckle. She could have at least said, “A for effort,” but I guess everyone was a critic. I hurried over to the hospital’s resident dry cleaner, who always had a spare pair of uniforms, scrubs, nice shirts, you name it. Our dry cleaner guy was a typical average dude with stringy red hair, named Marion or something. He always had that strung out look about him that gave the impression that he was pretty trustworthy. I showed him the cream cheese on my shirt and he made an OK sign with both hands, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Say no more,” he assured me in the most endearing bored-out-of-your-mind voice imaginable.

As I waited for him to grab me a spare shirt, I looked up and saw a couple of green scrubs hanging around.

“I can’t do this on my own. I’m no superman,” I hummed the tune. Marion (that might not have been his name, but it was pretty damn close to what I imagine his name was) turned and asked, “what?”

“You know, Scrubs? It’s a reference.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know the first thing about references,” he bemoaned in both a disinterested tone and a disoriented one.

Man, nobody appreciates a good reference these days.

After I received my change of shirt, I went into the nearest bathroom and speedran the Trent Dress Up game. Not to brag, but I might have set a new record that day. Okay. Moving on.

Up four flights of stairs I lumbered up, each foot dragged behind the other. Yes, I could have used the elevator, but then that wouldn’t have been very doctor-like of me, would it? I mean, plenty of doctors took the elevator, and there was nothing wrong with that, but I always tried to do healthy things. It didn’t really matter much, I mean, I was already healthy, I was just a little chubby, was all. So what? I was a big ol’ teddy bear in a lab coat. At least I rocked the look.

Twelve rooms down. Then the thirteenth: that was where I heard the assistant.

“Dr. Bark will see you now,” the assistant informed the patient. After she left, which I didn’t really get a good look at, but I’ve probably worked with her before, I opened the door and greeted the patient.

“Woof, woof!” I made my best dog voice, which probably sounded closer to a howler monkey than a dog.

My patient just looked at me, not amused in the slightest. He was an elderly man who looked like a bad caricature of an elderly man. Not one of the kind ones, either. No, more like the grumpy kind who would yell at you if you so much as lived in the general vicinity of the same neighborhood he lived in. Then again, I knew looks could be deceiving and if anything, his face was probably contorted in pain.

“Okay, so I’m not that clown doctor, but if you honk my nose, I will still make a sound,” I gave a nervous laugh as I said. He just continued to stare at me.

It turned out that he had a small seizure just as I entered the room. Lovely timing, really.

Before I could take a break and have some lunch, there were a few more fun moments, gross moments, sad moments, silly moments, the whole gamut. Really, I loved my job because there were many opportunities to treat others and get them to better health. But also I hated my job because it was a job and I hated being the bearer of big bills due to the malicious concept of private insurance.

My sister-in-law was always going on about how I should be more ambitious. How I could try to start my own clinic and treat people for free, out of the kindness of my heart. Which I loved, that really was a dream if I ever had one. But there was the matter of means. Equipment costs money, I’d need more space, I’d have to get all those good prescription drugs that all the cool cats liked. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it, legally.

But hey, if it were possible, I’d do it. For sure. Maybe.

Once I made it to the hospital’s cafeteria, I grabbed a lobster salad with a garlic roll and a pink lady apple for an extra layer of irony. It was ironic because no matter how many times I ate one of those, I could never keep myself away from the hospital. Shame, too. The busier I was, the less time I had to play Monster Hunter.

Anyway, as I looked for a place to sit, I hummed a tune I heard over the radio.

“Don’t call my name, don’t call my name, Alejandro. Fernando,” I hummed. Or rather, mumbled. Because I knew for a fact that I said those words out loud, whether or not I should have saved myself the embarrassment.

“Yes?” Crooned the seductive and husky toned voice of a man I didn’t recognize. I looked around, then noticed that the owner of such a voice was seated all by his lonesome at a table in the middle of the cafeteria.

Oh good, finally a table that’s not crowded.

I made the no-brainer decision to sit across from him at the table. His head sported a vast field of curly black hair as well as the stubble-laden remnants of a rugged black mustache. He reminded me of the guy from that Just Cause series of games, though not sure why, as I’ve never played them, though I had to admit, grappling hooks were pretty cool.

“Did you say something?” I stared into his inviting rosemary colored eyes. Mostly because I felt it rude if I didn’t. Imagine if someone did that to me, just looked away when they spoke to me. Actually, that’s probably happened many times.

“You said my name,” he replied, more plain this time, without as much of a soothing effect, but no less friendly.

“Oh? Alejandro?” I blinked, unaware that I had said anyone’s name.

“No, Fernando, but you may call me Fern. Everyone does,” he smiled as he told me, a smile as soothing as his voice could be.

“Well, I certainly wanna do what everyone else is doing,” I chuckled. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

He gave a slow nod.

“What a beautiful name. Do you know who does the song that you were singing?”

Oh god, if ever there was a time to be embarrassed.

“I just heard the song on the radio! I don’t know anything about it, I just thought it was kinda catchy.”

“I’ll give you a hint: it starts with ‘Lady’.”

Fuck. I was bad at guessing games.

“Lady and the Tramp?”

“No.”

“Lady Marmaduke?”

“No. You have three more guesses.”

Wait. He never said I had a limit of five. Now I was really feeling the pressure.

“Lady Groudon?”

“Close.”

Oh! Now I knew what it was!

“Lady Goomy!”

“...No, not quite. But really close.”

Damn. I only had one guess left, too. The heat was really on now.

“Lady Gloop?”

He bit his lip trying to hold back laughter, but couldn’t, and it all came flooding out.

“Um, did I win?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that laughter, but I had to know. I just HAD to know.

After he settled down, he shook his head and with an aching calm assured me:

“It’s not important.”

“Well, what is important, then?” I grimaced, the answer not given to me.

“The lives of our patients are what’s important.”

Yeah, that seemed a little obvious, though, considering our professions and all. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure whether he was a doctor or not. I didn’t recall ever working with him.

“What do you do here, by the way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m a nurse, mi amor.”

Once he said that, everything clicked into place.

“No wonder you’ve got that gentle voice,” I observed.

“I don’t have to be gentle if you don’t want me to be.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “For the sake of the patients, I think you ought to be.”

We went back and forth after that, chatting about this and that, though nothing really important. Really, it was nice, I didn’t usually chat with anyone. Afterward, however, it was back to the grind. Oh joy.

Once said day one was done, I flopped on home and collapsed on my sofa. Next to me was a controller, and I had bought my copy of Final Fantasy XVI the other day, but haven’t had a chance to play it.

“My body...too feeble…” I wheezed out the words as my hands shook trying to reach for the controller. Just as it seemed like the controller was within my grasp, my phone rang.

When there was something in closer proximity than the item that I really wanted, the natural urge was to reach for the one in closer proximity instead.

“Hey Trent. It’s me,” came the sudden and to the point tone of my sister-in-law: Vesuvius.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I snapped to my senses and sat right up. “Is everything okay? Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve got a nice little apartment with my beautiful wife. I just haven’t spoken to you in a while and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, what a relief. I was worried you were having another mental health episode.”

“Hey! I don’t go around pointing out the time you had food poisoning, do I?” She scolded. Yeah, okay. That was fair.

She didn’t have many mental health episodes, but ever since that incident with her and Juniper’s stalkers, she had been more sensitive and more on edge. That said, I really was happy for her and that she was at peace.

“You’re right. God, that was a rough time. Who knew blueberries could be so poisonous?”

“All things in nature can,” she stated. Gee, if anyone knew that, it would’ve been her.

“How are all things with settling into the apartment?” I asked. She hadn’t been there long, but it was a bold step for her, considering her social anxiety, which she tried to act like she didn’t have.

“You know, it’s an adjustment. It gets lonely when Juniper isn’t home. I’m not used to her having anything resembling a job. I hate to sound possessive, but I don’t like that she has one. I wish we didn’t have to make money to live.”

“Be as possessive as you want,” I chuckled. “Er...within reason. Say, have you saved up for anything?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you always go on about wanting to do that whole ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle thing. So maybe you could save for that and go for it?”

She drew a deep breath, as if she were about to blow a gust of wind out of every orifice.

“First off, I don’t know what a ‘cottagecore’ is, but I’m cautious around anything with the suffix of -core. You know I’m a delicate flower.”

“And a poisonous one,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, poisonous flowers can be delicate. And hey! Be nice to me!”

I coughed up a chuckle.

“Okay, well, second off,” she continued. “What I want is to live off the land, in a field of flowers. Growing my own field. Having peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, that’s cottagecore.”

“Don’t say words I don’t understand to me!” She scolded. “It’s really demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” I tried to settle down with the teasing. “But for real, it’s not like it’s impossible. Juniper could build a house, she likes making things.” Then again, she probably wouldn’t build a house very well, but I’m sure she’d enjoy the attempt. “It may take a bit of money for the resources, but it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, first thing’s first is I want to see a therapist. Like, an actual therapist.”

“Oh, that could be good for you.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed, and the tone of her voice shifted to a more mournful one. “I still remember how I was during that time. I have trouble believing that it’s really over. All of that pain lingers with me. It’s not something I wish to remember, but it’s something I’m unable to forget.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad,” I tried to reassure her. I assumed she was referring to the whole stalker incident that occurred at the same time she dealt with her mental health episode. “Everyone has a breaking point. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there.”

“No, but there is. I was confused. Desperate. I hurt the most important person in my life. I hurt someone else that I could have helped. That I could have saved. If I had just known how. If my mind was more clear back then,” her voice shifted into a growl. “I hate it. I hate inflicting pain. Especially because it’s not who I want to be. No who I am anymore,” her voice then grew sharper. Harsher. “Yet I can’t help but feel like it’s still with me, buried somewhere, and I just want to punch a wall, rip my hair out, something! Something to cut this off from me!”

“Hey, hey,” I could tell she was working herself up. “You and Juniper are both sensitive people. Sometimes people lash out when their emotions are heightened. It doesn’t mean you’re bad or anything, but you can work on it. For what it’s worth, I do think you two are good together.”

“Thank you,” her voice quieted back to the mournful tone it was at first and I could hear sniffling and weeping in the background. “I’m sorry. I told myself I would keep composed and yet I went off into that rant. Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a better therapist than the one I pretended to be.”

“Heh. It’s nothing. You’ve definitely been through a lot. Get yourself some tea or something, that might help.”

“Thanks,” she sniffled again. “What about you? Is there anything new with you?”

“Eh. Same ol’ boring stuff at the hospital. People get sick and die, some people get better.”

“To which?” She let out a weak chuckle.

“Oh, definitely the sick part. I’ve yet to someone get better from being dead, but anything can happen. Fingers crossed, right?”

“Heh…so there’s nothing new at all? What about at the house? I bet you’re glad to have Juniper and I out of your hair.”

“Eh. You guys weren’t that bad to deal with.”

“That’s a relief. Do you miss us?”

“Hmm...a bit. It’s a bit quiet now, but I like it. Means I can play video games in peace and walk around the apartment in my underwear.”

“Indeed, that is a positive. Though I didn’t need to hear the last part.”

I tried to think about anything of substance I could actually talk about.

“Oh! I met someone new at the hospital today! This nurse named Fern. He’s got these beautiful murky green eyes and maze-like curly dark hair. Oh, and his mustache. I bet I’d be ticklish if it rubbed against me,” I announced with a sense of excitement at the prospect of actually having something to say.

“Are you attracted to this Fern person?” She inquired.

While I didn’t quite know where she got that idea from, I wasn’t going to say that he was ugly or anything like that.

“I’m certainly not repelled by him,” I joked. Heh. Magnets. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, since you described him in such exquisite detail.”

“Eh. Isn’t it normal to describe people you talk about?”

“Not in my experience. Not like that, anyway. But hey, what do I know?”

“Yeah, well, I just met him today, so I doubt I’ll describe him every time I talk about him. He seems nice, in any case. Hey, maybe the four of us could play D&D together sometime?” I perked up at the prospect of having someone else to play D&D with. That was the most important thing about meeting someone. If not D&D, maybe I could gush about 80s Sci-Fi movies or J-RPGs.

“I don’t know...that game always brings out the worst in me...I try to be a healer but whenever I encounter a monster I just want to grind them into dust and then I curse the fact that I didn’t pick a class like barbarian.”

“Heh. That is a problem. You could always just be a barbarian.”

“No. I don’t want to,” I could tell she stuck her nose up just by her tone of voice alone.

“In any case, we gotta get this going on! We never seem to finish a campaign!” I was SO pumped to get this thing going on.

“That’s because I always either quit out of frustration or you end up too busy and we decide to start over from a new campaign as soon as you have free time again,” she pointed out. At least she was honest.

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure!”

“Mm...well, it was nice talking with you, Trent. I’m glad you seem to be doing well, and good luck with this Fern person.”

“Thanks! You take care too! Bye!”

We hung up and I spent the rest of the day being an exhausted nerdy Trenty bear who somehow did nothing yet time still passed.

As the days went by, I’d spend lunch having conversations with Fern and he said I could talk about whatever I was passionate about, so OF COURSE a bunch of nerdy shit came up.

“About halfway through the game, she dies, but you can get her final limit break later on. This is a way to show that she’s still with the party in spirit and the party keeps it as a memento, even though they know they cannot use it, OR they refuse to use it to honor her memory.”

“I see. And it’s not just the developers making a mistake?” Fern pondered. The gall.

“No way. Game developers wouldn’t just do that. In fact, you can hack the game to make it so Aerith lives, by coming back after she dies, but she’ll say at a certain point, ‘I’m not supposed to be here’. That’s because the developers knew that players would try to bring her back, so they were prepared.”

“Wow. That really is haunting,” he looked moved by my explanation. As he should be.

“The game devs were also brilliant for making her and Cloud be besties instead of a romantic interest. There’s a part where Cloud and Aerith go on a date on a ferris wheel and right before they go on the ferris wheel, Aerith turns to cloud and goes ‘wa...wassup homie?’ and Cloud says, ‘golly gee’ in response. By having them be besties, it shows the importance of friendships over romantic relationships. It’s actually shown in a prequel that Cloud had a boyfriend named Zack, but despite it being canon, many fans prefer to act like the game doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a wonderful message for them to show,” he nodded along.

“Yeah. So anyway, Zack dies in the prequel.”

“Damn. This Cloud guy just can’t catch a break.”

Before I was able to continue the conversation further, I received a beep on my pager.

“...And neither can I. I gotta split.”

That was how our typical conversations went. I did most of the talking while he stared and smiled the whole way through. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that, but it also meant that I didn’t know much about him. He hardly seemed like the mysterious type, and I should’ve known the mysterious type due to the people I’ve let in my apartment in the past.

So the next chance we got I decided I’d hold nothing back. We both sat together, once again with our lunches in front of us, and I popped the question:

“Do you have any siblings?” I was casual as I asked him, plain as day with an egg and lettuce sandwich in my hands. He tilted his head and rested it on his palm, looking even more radiant than usual.

“Why yes. I have four sisters. Two of them are engaged. One of them’s married. The fourth one is still looking for love.”

“Oh wow,” I replied. “You know, you could tell her that she doesn’t have to find love. It’s not the be-all and end-all, after all.”

“I think she already knows that. Still, she wouldn’t mind the experience. What about you, Trent?” He spoke my name with such a delicacy that it made my heart tackle the walls of my chest.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve got a sister. I don’t even know why you mentioned relationships since I just asked about siblings, but she’s in one. I mean, she’s married, so I guess I’ve also got a sister-in-law. If that counts as another sibling, then I’ve got two sisters, maybe?”

He coughed up a chuckle against his fist.

“Love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess it can be.”

For some reason that simple exchange reminded me of an early memory when Juniper and I were kids and we shared a room, bunk beds, in fact.

She hung upside down from the edge of the top bunk of the bed. I always did tell her to be careful, but she never was good at listening to me.

“Hey bro, bro, bruh, bruv,” she pestered me.

“What is it?” I looked up from the book I was reading.

She held down a magazine with pictures of women in hiking gear.

“Look! Aren’t those girls cute? Aren’t they your type?” She pressed it up to my face. Or as well up to my face as she could. Her aim wasn’t the best when she hung upside down. Nevertheless, I took a glance. Of course, as I was more interested in the book I was reading, I didn’t really pay attention.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Not satisfied, she grew in intensity.

“Come on! You didn’t look!”

“Yeah I did!” I shot back. “I’m just more interested in this book right now! You have no idea how cool the Shannara novels are!” Oh, but I wasn’t done. “Also, I’m pretty sure those are your type, not mine!”

She stuck her tongue out.

“What even is your type?” She teased.

I shrugged. Really, I didn’t know then, and even into my 30s, as a doctor, I had no idea if I even had a type. For anyone. After a pause, she then asked.

“Do you think you’d ever have a crush on anyone?”

I gave it some thought. Then, as if it was a no brainer, it clicked.

“If someone was actually interested in me, sure! But c’mon, I’m a nerd. You know how hard it is for people like me.”

She scowled at that.

“That’s just a myth. That shouldn’t stop you.”

She was right. Both back then, and in the present, if she were to tell me that again. But over the years, I grew to have a different excuse.

“Would you ever be open to the idea of love?” Fern’s question brought me out of the memory, back to the moment that I shared with him.

I shrugged.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. If the opportunity were to occur. But then, I’m always too busy to think about things like that, so it’s never really crossed my mind. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you’re probably about as busy as I am.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But it has its advantages.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how we can spend the same amount of time together.”

Oh yeah. That was a really good point.

“Heh. It is nice to have someone to chat with,” I agreed.

It was a surprise how little time had passed, but I was glad for it. Considering how unpredictable this job could be, I had to be thankful for any precious minutes I got.

“Let’s not worry about that. If we run out of time, we can pick it up another day. So what do you say?”

“So tell me, how did your sister meet her lover?” His curiosity took me by surprise. Not something I thought would be worth asking, but who was I to say what someone did and didn’t find interesting?

All right. So I told him. It seemed he just had that kind of effect on me.

Maybe it was a little cliché, I don’t know, because I don’t know what constitutes as cliché, but it was a rainy evening. I had just gotten off work, I had my umbrella, but it seemed to do me little good as there was a mighty gust of wind and the rain just slid down the umbrella and managed to force itself onto my jacket.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through a side street. I guess it was like an alleyway, but more open. I don’t know, side street sounds appropriate. Curled up underneath the cover of a building’s awning was a homeless woman, a single orange striped blanket over her, damp. Her hair seemed covered in dirt, she shivered, but made no attempt to voice her discomfort. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but maybe it was pity that brought me to pay attention to her in the first place.

Yeah, typical “boy meets girl” story, huh?

At last, she looked up and croaked. Despite facing me, her face seemed to droop low and she looked downtrodden.

“You got money?”

I jumped. Startled. Yeah, not too dignified, but I really just didn’t expect for her to notice me. Once I composed myself, I dug through my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“Here, it’s not much, but it’s what I got on me.”

“Thanks,” she replied and took it. No more than that. Of course, if that was the extent of the exchange, there wouldn’t really be anything to tell, now would there?

“Hey, I know it’s late, but there’s a cafe close by we can visit if you want a coffee or something. They’re not open forever, but it’ll keep you dry for a little while,” I offered.

She looked up again, scowled.

“I don’t trust strangers,” she stated.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I get that,” I chuckled. “I just figured I’d offer, but you can decline. If you’re worried about me being someone dangerous, you can punch me. I’m not really interested in being cruel or violent or anything like that.”

She squinted. I would later find out that was less because of how ridiculous she may have thought me and more because she had poor eyesight.

“Are you that desperate that you would ask a homeless person out on a date?” Her biting remark might have gotten under the skin of just about anyone else, but I’ve probably heard much worse from some of my patients. Instead, I laughed.

“You don’t have to think of it as a date. I don’t. I’m not really the dating type, anyway. It’s just a spur of the moment thing.”

She shifted eyes, turned her head from left to right, then looked back up on me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this…but sure,” she heaved out the words.

“Cool,” I stuck my thumb out, then continued, “it’s just a couple of blocks away. I really like the place, since I sometimes don’t get off work until real late and it’s open past midnight.”

“I don’t care...when it’s open...but I could use something warm...to drink,” she sounded lightheaded, in a daze.

Once we made our way through the door of the dim lit cafe with neon lighting, she wiped her shoes on the mat.

Oh. What good manners, I thought. As someone who often forgot to wipe their shoes when entering places, it was a nice reminder to see someone else do so. At least I remembered to put my umbrella down, but that kinda went without saying.

As soon as I approached the counter, I turned to her, still drenched.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Order whatever you like,” I assured her. After I said those words, she looked up, squinted, then closed her eyes.

“I would like a lavender mocha latte, but no dairy. Almond milk if you have it. Coconut would be even better. Give four extra shots of espresso, and if you have dark chocolate syrup, use that.”

Damn. It was like she had the whole thing recited and ready to go. All right.

“I’ll just take a black coffee,” I shrugged. I didn’t need all the sugar or any of that extra stuff.

“Oh. I should have went with that too,” she looked down, possibly embarrassed at her order.

I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I said you could order whatever. My treat.”

She made her way to the table nearest to the window, and took the seat closest to the window as well. As soon as she sat down, she lowered her head onto the table and her arms outstretched to cover her head. Behind her, raindrops slid down the window. It wasn’t much an interesting sight, but I wasn’t a very observant person, so I felt I ought to have taken note of something.

“Just so you know, you should probably forget about me after this,” she uttered and despite her words being muffled, I could still make her words out clear as a river.

“If you want,” I shrugged.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t associate with me. There’s people after me. I’d rather not get anyone involved.”

I pondered if there was any validity to that. Maybe she ran from an ex, or there was some trafficking ring. That last bit was a little dark. As a middle ground, I thought that maybe she had run off from home as a kid (surprisingly, that part was sort of true, in a sense).

“You probably think I’m crazy. Paranoid, even. I get it. Some homeless woman tells you there’s people after her. You don’t have to believe me. Just so you know, I’m homeless by choice. It’s easier this way. You don’t have to believe that, either.”

“Well, if you’re on the run, maybe it’s not by choice?” I suggested.

She looked up, her face still semi-buried in her arms. Still, I could make out eyes through her bangs. Grayish-purple bags under her eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It’s been so long, it’s hard to tell anymore. My head won’t cooperate,” she seemed to agree with my assessment, and as if to confirm as much, she lifted her head up and rubbed her forehead with her palm. With one eye visible, she glared at me.

“Just so you know, even if you considered this a date, I wouldn’t be interested. I’m…” she looked around, then stated, “men don’t interest me.”

I chuckled.

“It’s okay. My sister’s a lesbian. You don’t really have to beat around the bush about it.”

Her eyes widened, then squinted again.

“I don’t know why you would tell me that. I’m not interested. My main focus is my survival, it’s just…” She began to glance to her side and down at the floor. “I’ve been running and hiding so long, I’m growing tired. Sooner or later, I might just give up. It’s a terrible thought, but I don’t think I can go on.”

My concern began to grow, even if I didn’t know the scope of her problem.

“I don’t really know what it is you’re dealing with, but you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“No. I refuse to endanger anyone else,” she seemed adamant about that.

Maybe she was justified, but in a selfish way, that also made me want to help more.

“You can refuse if you want, but the weather forecast says it’s going to be raining over the next few days. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment you can stay in. If nothing else, it’ll keep you dry.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she looked away once more.

“You wouldn’t be. I’m the one that offered,” I shrugged, a favorite gesture of mine.

“Well...maybe my head is just messed up enough right now, but...fine. As long as I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Of course,” I assured her, and I even lifted a feeble smile. Once our coffee was brought over, mine a regular paper coffee cup, hers a ceramic cup filled to the top, we drank in silence. Between intervals of me sipping the bitter bean, I peeked over and noticed how she held onto her cup with a sort of elegance; one hand on the handle, the other grasping the base of the cup, and slow sips taken, not a single slurp to be heard. It was probably a little weird of me to pick up on something like that, I admit.

“I’m Trent, by the way,” I told her out of courtesy. Depending on how long she’d stay, I felt it wise to tell her my name.

“Et...err...Vesuvius. You can call me Vesuvius. Or Ves. I don’t care which,” her eyes shifted and she stammered out the words.

After we finished our coffee, we headed out, umbrella up and ready to go. There wasn’t a long walk ahead of us, and she was silent the whole way through. Not that I tried to make small talk anyway, since the rain was kind of gloomy weather for conversation. She walked with a slump, something I should have warned her to be cautious about, lest she get a hunchback. Maybe she did so because she felt she was too tall to fit under the umbrella, or maybe she had been under such duress for so long that standing up straight no longer registered to her.

Before long, we made our way inside and I showed her to where the spare room was. She didn’t speak a word, not so much as a nod, just went inside. Before I closed the door, I told her, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be down the hall and to your left.”

Still, no acknowledgment. That was fine. Just as long as she heard me. For whatever reason, it didn’t register until after I closed the door that I didn’t have anything like an air mattress or a futon for her to sleep on. That room was bare, empty. Not a single item to be found.

Despite that, I was too tired to do anything rational like look for some spare blankets or pillows, and decided it was high time for me to get some rest. At the very least, I turned the heater on and let it run. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I didn’t think Juniper would be all that comfortable with it on, but screw it, I was the one who paid the bills.

“Well, time for me to get some shut eye,” I announced, thinking there was no one around who could hear me. However, I soon noticed from the corner of my eye a foam basketball being tossed up into the air.

“Who’s the babe?” Juniper, asked in a rather dull voice. I soon turned and saw her laying on the couch, flat on her back.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” I scolded. “I found her on the street. She’s just going to stay over for a few nights.”

“So now you’re picking up homeless chicks?”

Really, maybe she was just moody ‘cause she was tired, or maybe she just felt like giving me a hard time that night in particular.

“I just felt like doing a good deed, there’s nothing behind it,” I corrected her. Again.

“That’s rather nice of you. Just make sure not to overexert yourself. Your health is important too,” she reminded.

“Thanks.”

I thought I could just go to bed, but then a smile which signified mischief spread across her face.

“So, tell me about the babe,” she wouldn’t drop it so soon.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“C’mon, the babe.”

“No,” I folded my arms on my hips. If she could nudge me from where she was at, she would have.

“You remind me of the babe,” her cheery voice returned, coupled with a sing-song tone.

“What babe?” I finally gave in.

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“Power of voodoo!”

“Who do?”

“You do!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe! Ha ha ha!” she kicked around the couch and laughed. There were certain nights where I could just tell when she watched Labyrinth that day.

“Okay, okay, don’t stay up too late,” I reminded her. “You know where your room is.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Night.”

Ah, Labyrinth. Classic. David Bowie and his tights. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Somehow I managed to tell him all of that with time to spare.

“You have a big heart, Trent,” he told me, which kinda made me want to sulk.

“Yeah...I do try to have a good diet, though,” I pouted.

“No, no, I mean metaphorically,” he patted the air as he spoke, a sure sign of sincerity.

“You mean…?” I stared into his earthen rosemary colored eyes.

“Yes. You are very kind.”

“Oh, phew. For a second there I was worried you meant my weight.”

“No, no. Dear. You are adorable. When I first saw you that fateful day, I said to myself, ‘this is an adorable teddy bear’. I would never have anything unkind to say to a teddy bear.”

“Well, thank you. Does that mean I’m a cuddly looking teddy bear?” I let slip my curiosity.

“I’d have to find that one out for myself. Hey, your story about your sister’s wife got me thinking. How would you like to go out for coffee after work?”

Gee, the possibility never even occurred to me, but it was so simple. Of course.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’m pretty sure the place is still open.”

“And,” he leaned in a little closer. “May I consider it a date?”

I laughed a little at that.

“If you’d like to.”

“And,” a little closer still. “Would you consider it one?”

That time, my heart went “boing boing” against my chest. I didn’t know the answer to that one. It was too much being put on the spot, I was used to the attention being on other people.

“Um...not no, but maybe yes...I’m not sure…” Came my disgraceful blabbering until I managed to catch myself and re-compose. “Er...I’m not used to thinking about things for myself...but...sure. You’re a pretty cool guy. Let’s consider it a coffee date.”

So we did. Just a few nights later, after work we walked into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, with enough of a seat for me to fit in the back. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest and in fact, it played out much the same as many of our conversations at lunch before. It all felt natural between us, like trees. He ordered an oregano tea latte and I had my usual black coffee.

As if by miracle, the sun had yet to set and there wasn’t the slightest hint of rain. We sat across from each other and immersed ourselves in the ambiance of the hums and smooth glitchtunes playing on the coffee shop’s speakers.

“So, if I were to come over to your place tonight, would I see your sister and her wife?” He posed the hypothetical question.

“Nah, they both moved out almost a year ago. They’ve got their own apartment somewhere else in the city, though they’re also saving up to move elsewhere again.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head.

“Well, it’s a dream of Ves’ to live in a field of flowers, open nature, all that stuff. Psychedelic drugs, flowers in hair, tie-dye, I could go on. Juniper’s already found a place a couple of states out, and she found an old beat up pick up truck in a ditch and decided to repair it just for fun. So now all they gotta do is assemble the wood, get some electric lining, plumbing, all that stuff. Which...I don’t have a lot of faith in my sister, she’s no architect or electrician, but she’s the type who gets insistent about doing everything herself, so it’s not like I could talk her out of it.”

“That’s great, though! They’re pursuing their passion. Isn’t that beautiful?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno if ‘beautiful’ is the word I’d use, but yeah. I suppose I’m happy for them.”

“What about you? Do you have any goals?” His eyes fluttered, almost like he wanted to lull me to sleep.

“Sorta, but it’s kinda dumb? I just don’t like the whole ‘charged ten thousand dollars as soon as you walk in and good luck getting your overpriced insurance that you can barely afford, if afford at all, to cover anything’ so I was thinking how it would be cool if I could run my own clinic. I don’t know, maybe it could be funded through donations, but in no way would people have to pay. Like, I doubt I’d be able to do the big stuff like surgeries or transplants, but it’s still something, right? Thing is, that’s kinda impossible, don’cha think?”

Rather than some kind of agreement, he reacted in a rather ferocious manner: he stood up, leaned over, and slammed his hands on the table.

“Trent,” while his voice grew in intensity, it certainly didn’t sound angry. More...motivating. “You must never be afraid of your passion.”

“Uh...okay…” I scratched my cheek. “But what about you? What are you passionate about?”

He sat back down.

“You. Of course,” he answered, so simple, so straightforward in his delivery.

“So, like, does that mean you’d want to play D&D with me sometime?”

He laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Really? Are you sure? What if you don’t like it? I mean, I don’t even know what your hobbies are.”

“If I end up not liking it, then at least I’ll have found that out for myself. But all of your hobbies, everything that interest you, I want to immerse myself in. Because all of you...is my hobby.”

“Bro…” I leaned forward. “That’s kind of...uh...cool!”

“Oh, and I also like to ride around on my motorcycle. I like watching the sunsets, going hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking, and making ceramic cups.”

Hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking...he sure looked fit. Not to mention, those things sounded like fun, even if possibly dangerous.

“Do you think I could do those things with you?” I asked, hesitant, but I figured if he was wanting to do the things I liked, I may as well ask him in return.

“Of course. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then in that case, can I kiss you?” I joked, though it seemed to come out of nowhere. However much I meant it, it was out in the open now.

“Of course. Would you like to do it here, or at your apartment?”

“Err...at my apartment?”

To be honest, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Or been kissed by anyone before. That thought never even crossed my mind and I pretty much figured I’d be fine not having such a thought and continuing on with my life, but dominoes were falling or something like that.

“Let’s go, then,” he stood up and motioned for me to head toward the door. In a hurry, I chugged down my coffee.

I should probably brush my teeth first. Coffee breath probably isn’t a good taste. Then again, would he want to brush his teeth. Should we just use the same toothbrush? Or maybe he packed one with him.

When we shoved our way through the door of my apartment, those questions were erased from my mind.

“I’ve actually never kissed anyone before...I know, in my thirties and…” he put his finger on my lips and made a “shh” sound.

“Relax. I’ll take the lead,” he lowered his hand, then leaned down and spread his lips against mine. As he released, I wished that he hadn’t. But then the thought of my breath returned to the front of my mind.

“Sorry, uh, hope my breath doesn’t bother you.”

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“Well…it’s probably good to take care of your teeth. I’m not a dentist, but I do think good health is important in all aspects of one’s health and --”

He pulled out a box of mint chews.

“Here,” he opened the box. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth. On instinct, I bit down on them and chewed, despite knowing that I wouldn’t be prepared for the icy hellfire that was the minty taste. After a couple of seconds of huffing, I looked back at him.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“There is one more interest I have now,” he decided to pick back up from our conversation at the coffee shop for some final choice words.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Supporting you and your dreams.”

Then we kissed again.

So flashforward a year or so and through some sort of miracle, such a dream was realized: we converted the apartment into a clinic and moved upstairs to the apartment directly above. Both of us quit our jobs at the hospital so we could focus on the clinic. Really, I couldn’t have done it without him. Or, maybe I could have, but I’d like to think he gave me that sort of push, y’know? That little “oomf.”

There were many improvements that could have been made, and might be made as time went on, but I liked seeing the genuine attempt to help, and the look on people’s faces when they knew they wouldn’t have to worry about cost...worth it. What’s more, people donated freely, and often. We met several people around the community and even convinced some to play D&D with us. I think the biggest surprise was how much of a hit the game was with the elderly.

Oh, and also, Fern and I became boyfriends. Not really sure how that happened, but it did and I’m cool with it.

On one particular slow day, an interesting thing happened: see, it had been a while since any strange people walked through my door. After a streak of Ves, Blanc, and that weird stalker lady my sister hugged, I figured I’d see the last of any weirdness. In fact, I never even thought to tell Fern about any of the weird visitors (besides Ves, of course). But then as I was doing a solo hunt against deviljo in Monster Hunter on my PC in my office, Fern ran into my office.

“Hey Trent, dear, there’s someone outside the front door saying she’s your cousin,” he informed me. I looked up, a little perplexed.

“I have relatives?” I asked, even though it might have seemed like a pretty dumb thing to say.

Never mind the dumbness, I stopped what I was doing and rushed toward the door only to find a short lady with blonde hair who looked to be in her 20s.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked her.

“It’s me, your cousin. Demetria?” She folded her arms and scowled.

It took a few seconds to click, and then I remembered.

“Ohhh. You were at my sister’s wedding. I think. Probably.”

“Yeah, I probably most definitely was,” she turned her head and spat on the ground.

Fern stood beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Who might this be?” He asked.

“Fern,” I gestured to Demetria. “This is apparently my cousin, Demetria. Demetria, this is Fern, my receptionist-slash-boyfriend.”

“You make me sick,” Demetria growled in response.

“What?” I blinked, and I was quite surprised to hear such a thing. “Are you homophobic?”

“No, I’m not homophobic, I just can’t believe you’re dating someone named after a tree! You were supposed to be the chosen one! You could have broken the cycle!”

That was an odd thing to focus on, but good to know it wasn’t too serious.

“It’s short for Fernando, actually, and technically, Ferns aren’t trees,” Fern explained to her.

“All right, buster,” she pointed up. “But you’re on thin-fucking-ice!”

Then she turned to me.

“Also, grats on being gay, I guess. That’s kinda cool,” she eased up her abrasive tone.

“Well, I might be bi. I don’t know. I haven’t been interested in women before, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be interested in any women. I think the real question we need to ask is, is it gay to be in a relationship with another man?” I suggested. Demetria just looked at Fern, who then looked at me.

“Yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, in any case, what can I do for you, Demetria?” I shifted focus.

“Right. I need you to tell me where Juniper lives.”

“What for?”

“So I can go live with them. Why else?”

That was an odd thing to want to do, and I didn’t even think Juniper and Ves would agree to such a...oh, who was I kidding? Juniper was that kind of person.

“Right. Uh...I guess there’s no harm. I’ll write down their address for you. You got a way to get there?”

She shook her head.

“I make it up as I go. I got here just fine, didn’t I?”

Yeah, that was a good point.

I pulled out my notepad from my shirt pocket as well as a pen and scribbled down the address. After I handed it to her, she squinted and scowled.

“Shit. How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?”

Right. Doctor.

“Here, I’ll just spell it out for you, so you can just type it in the notepad app on your phone or whatever you have.”

“Oh, great. More work for me to do,” she grimaced, but pulled out her phone and pressed the power button.

“Let’s see...a few missed calls from my mom. Typical. Also, a text from Ray. ‘If you ever consider coming back here, don’t. I don’t want to see you again.’ Gee, wasn’t planning on going back there, but good to see I’m not wanted. Typical...oh, here we go. Notepad.”

I didn’t really know what that bit was about, but I wasn’t about to pry. Wasn’t my business. As soon as I told her the address, she turned her phone back off and put it back in her pocket.

How are you going to know where to find the place if you don’t even look at the address?

Oh well. Juniper and Ves’ problem now.

“See ya,” she waved, then ran off. Fern and I waved too, then Fern turned to me.

“Well, she was interesting,” he remarked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. It tends to go that way. I never really told you, but besides Ves, there’s been some strange people who showed up here a couple of times. First there was Blanc, this amnesiac who was missing an arm. Juniper decided to make a prosthetic limb for them after learning about Fullmetal Alchemist and we kinda let them live here until they just disappeared one day. Then there was this one stalker Juniper had who wanted her and I to leave town but didn’t really explain why and then Juniper hugged her and she freaked out. Not a clue what that was about, but we never saw her again, so I guess we never needed to leave town.”

“Wow, your sister had a stalker?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, it was horrible, I guess. She seemed rather nonchalant about it, but I could tell it affected her in some ways. She was paranoid for a bit until she met this stalker in person, and then said stalker turned out to be harmless.”

“Still, I would’ve been scared too.”

“Oh yeah, and by the way, Ves is a time traveler. Yeah, you probably think I’m nuts now, but she was originally from the ‘60s and my sister and I found this time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64 when we moved in. It apparently belonged to Ves’ father. So that time at the coffee shop when she was homeless? Yeah, apparently I met her before that actually and neither of us realized that. Of course, she was a teenager back then and only showed up to take the time travel device back but anyway…”

I realized I started rambling and the more I went on, the more ridiculous things probably seemed.

“...Anyway, you don’t have to believe me, but that was all to say that everyone else who’s ever been in this apartment has been more interesting than me. Including you. Compared to them, I’m kinda just...there.”

He shook his head and placed a firm grasp on my shoulders. He looked me in the eyes.

“No, you are very interesting. How could you not be when you’ve met all of these interesting people? Take it from me: I wouldn’t be interested in you if I didn’t find you interesting.”

“Gee,” I looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks. But also, there’s one more thing: my family has this weird tradition of naming people after trees. Yeah, I’m Trent, but I was named after Treant, this tree monster in D&D. My mom wanted to name me Ent, but apparently couldn’t because the Tolkien estate has the rights to that name.”

“See? Another interesting thing about you!”

“Ha. I’m glad I met you. My mom wasn’t exactly a nice lady, but it was cool that she was into D&D. That’s probably where I got it from. Maybe it’s genetic. Still, neither mine nor my sister’s personalities are like her, although Juniper’s probably closer, though way nicer. It’s hard to explain, but you’d just have to trust me.”

“Every time you tell me something new about yourself, I’m fascinated more and more,” he smiled wide.

We kissed once more before getting back to work. Our day hadn’t yet come to an end.

[mankai-afterhours]

a helping hand - (IzuSakyo)

⚠️ very much smut ahead 18+ pls be aware this is just self indulgent filth wee woo wee woo ⚠️

Warnings: stripping clothes, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), tongue fucking (female receiving), and that's about it pretty straightforward it's just sakyo being a horny simp guys ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

---------

Izumi chews her lip, hesitating only a moment before knocking on Sakyo's door.

"Come in." Sakyo's voice says, slightly muffled through the wood.

Izumi takes a deep breath. She's about to walk in there and possibly strip naked for a yakuza in order to settle a score and save their playwright's life. She tries not to think about it too much.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Izumi says jokingly, hoping to keep the mood light. Walking into Sakyo's room does feel a bit like being sent to the principal's office.

But Sakyo clearly isn't feeling it. His arms are crossed in front of his chest. He looks angry, quiet. Simmering.

"So, uh..." Izumi clears her throat and shuts the door behind her. "Are we going with my plan?"

Sakyo says nothing. He just stares at her. Her eyes wander around his room awkwardly, and she wishes he would quit the tough guy act, especially considering what's about to happen.

"Look, Sakyo, if this is a bad idea, I can-"

"Tell me," Sakyo interrupts her, uncrossing his arms and letting them hang at his sides. He squints. "What do you see in Fushimi?"

Izumi groans in exasperation. "Oh, not this again, Sakyo! It was just a little fantasy, it has absolutely no bearing on real life." She rolls her eyes, embarrassed that they're even still having this conversation. "Omi's hands just happened to be what excited me that night, so it's-"

"I wonder what else excites you?" He asks, his voice a bit deeper than usual.

Izumi doesn't know what to make of this. She's starting to regret offering to do this in the first place, and it must show on her face, because Sakyo changes tacks.

"Look, are you sure you want to go through with this?" He asks, getting that look on his face that he has when triple checking whether Izumi has stayed under the budget.

She rolls her eyes. "If it'll prevent you from murdering my actors, then yes."

Her sass is ignored, and she can't help feeling like Sakyo's staring at her more than usual.

Being kept under his gaze like a specimen under a microscope sets her pulse up a few notches.

"So. Should I just...?" She starts to say, reaching for the buttons at her collar.

"No," Sakyo stops her, lifting his hand. "I... um, go sit down." He gestures towards his bed, and she hesitantly complies.

Once she's sitting, his hand covers his mouth, and she realizes he's analyzing her position. "Could you lay down?" He asks.

"What? Why?" She asks, suddenly feeling wary.

"I just want to recreate it as closely as possible. What Minagi saw," he replies.

Izumi feels herself flush. But she supposes that it's only fair, given the reason this is happening in the first place. Men can be so difficult sometimes.

She huffs another sigh and lays down with her head on Sakyo's pillow. It has a clean, musky scent, barely noticable, but still pleasant.

"Now can I take my clothes off?" She asks, with mock irritation.

Sakyo stares down at her from where he stands beside the bed, his expression unreadable.

"Could I do it?" His voice has a weird tone, almost gentle.

She laughs. "Yeah, sure. Very funny."

"I mean it, Izumi." His brows draw together. "Would you mind?"

She stares back at him, her heart skipping a beat at seeing him look so earnest. He's not joking, is he?

"I, um..." she looks away, trying to decide if she would mind. Does it matter whether she takes off her clothes or Sakyo takes them off for her? She'll be naked either way. "I guess not."

Sakyo's eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Good."

He sits beside her on the bed, and at first he stays still, raking his eyes along her body. But before long, his hands start to move.

He traces them slowly up her arms, across her shoulders, his fingers coming together again at her collar to loosen the first few buttons.

Izumi doesn't know why her heart is pounding. It's not like this is the first time she's been undressed by someone. Maybe it's the duality of his gentle fingers and the searing gaze he's pinning her with.

"I wonder how Minagi felt..." Sakyo murmurs, so quietly, Izumi almost can't hear it. "Walking in to see you laying there."

His fingers glide lower and lower, soon he uncovers her chest, revealing her bra. She tries very hard to lay still, though his stare is making her feel naked already.

"Witnessing you in the throes of ecstacy... moaning, imagining strong hands-" At this, he slips his hands to either side of her waist and giving her a squeeze. "-pinning you down..."

She must be blushing now, she can feel it. "S-Sakyo..."

Sakyo removes his hands in an instant, as if they were never there, resuming his work on her buttons. "I would have liked to see it myself."

So he was jealous, after all. Staring up at him, Izumi can't imagine Sakyo having feelings at all, let alone for her.

But he did say his attraction was purely physical...

Soon enough, her buttons are done, and he parts her shirt like a curtain, drinking in the sight of her bare torso and bra.

She starts to fidget under his unwavering stare. "Sakyo. Do you want me to take it all the way off?"

He seems to take a moment to process what she said, but then he nods. She sits up a little and sheds the shirt, leaving her top half a bit chillier than before in only her bra.

"I can do this part, if you want." She says, hastily reaching behind herself to get the clasp, but Sakyo's fingers cover hers, brushing against her back and sending chills down her spine.

"Allow me." He leans forward a bit, and in a moment, he deftly flicks open the clasp with one hand.

Izumi tries to cover her shock and embarrassment as he slides the straps down her arms. "When did you learn to do that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he replies, a smirk ghosting his lips.

Once her chest is bare, he fixes her body with that stare again, as if savoring the sight, and she feels herself start to get hot. But before she can remind him, his fingers are already working themselves on the fly of her jean shorts.

She lifts her hips while he pulls them down her legs and she carefully kicks them to the side, adding to her growing pile of clothes.

Sakyo then hooks his fingers on either side of her panties, and gives her another look, checking in again. "May I?"

For a yakuza, he's being unexpectedly respectful about this. She nods. "Go ahead."

He peels the thin fabric down her legs, and exhales upon seeing her cunt, completely exposed.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his gaze unwavering as he takes in the sight before him.

Izumi can feel the heat pricking her cheeks and a spike of it goes straight to her core at the look he's giving her.

She doesn't want him to stop.

"You can, uh..." she tries to find her voice, but it comes out embarrassingly high. "You can keep going. If that'll help you feel less jealous."

She doesn't look at him, but she can feel that stare of his, boring straight through her like a laser.

"You want me to touch you?" He asks in disbelief, and she gives a halfhearted shrug, too shy to speak. "Izumi," He takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger and coaxes her to look at him. "May I touch you?"

She nods.

Sakyo wastes not a moment before his hands cup each of her breasts, squeezing gently. He dips his head down to whisper in her ear, his breath fanning her cheek. "You're so beautiful... I'm unworthy of such a sight."

His voice is deeper than usual, gravelly, and it sends goosebumps down her arms.

"Sakyo," she whispers almost reprimandingly, skeptical of such flattery.

"It's true." His thumbs brush over her nipples, circling around the pert buds. "I am unworthy of even touching such a goddess..."

A goddess? Man, he's really laying it on thick. She shifts a bit, his hands and voice affecting her in ways she didn't know were possible.

"May I kiss you?" He asks in a breathless whisper. "Not on the lips, just... on your body."

The distinction has arousal shooting to her core. Is this how all yakuza express physical attraction?

"Sure, I guess so..." she mumbles, pressing her thighs together to prevent him from seeing how much she's okay with this.

His lips press first to her cheek, then down to her neck, sucking gently on her skin. She lets out a sigh while his hands roam from her breasts down overs her stomach to hold her hips.

"Izumi..." he whispers her name in a way she's never heard from anyone before. He dips a little lower and kisses along her collarbone almost reverently.

But then his hands brush her inner thigh and she can tell he felt the wetness gathering there. She looks anywhere else in the room as she feels him stop moving entirely.

He pulls back, taking his hands off of her, much to her disappointment.

"You're aroused by this?" He asks the obvious, and she lets out a small scoff.

"Anyone would be, with the way you're acting..." she says in her defence, but he seems to pay no mind to her sheepish reply.

Instead, a new proposition leaves his lips.

"Could I give you something to fantasize about for next time?"

Her head whips around to face him. "What?"

He adjusts his glasses. "If you let me help you out, I'll forget today ever happened. Minagi and Fushimi will be completely off the hook, and we'll never speak of this again."

She considers her options. She is pretty turned on at the moment, which makes it hard to think clearly, but if this is a one time thing... and he's been gentle so far... what's the harm in satisfying the burning ache between her thighs and Sakyo's burning temper at the same time?

"Sure, okay." She agrees, giving him a joking half-smile. "My body is yours."

Those words seem to spark something within Sakyo, and in moments, he's kneeling between her legs, parting her thighs to grant him access to her aching core.

"Beautiful..." he says again, and she doesn't even have time to blush before his face is buried between her thighs. He licks a stripe up her center that makes her back arch off the bed.

"S-Sakyo-!" She gasps, gripping the bedsheets in an effort to maintain her composure.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he replies, then begins to eat her out in earnest, his tongue and lips working beautifully together, causing a small gush of arousal to spill from her entrance.

He laps it up, bracing her legs steadily to keep her from squirming while he works relentlessly, deep throaty hums and moans escaping him while his tongue traces frenzied patterns against her swollen lips.

"Ah~! S-Sakyo..." she moans, unable to keep herself quiet as he sucks on her clit, licking up all of her juices.

She feels his finger circling around her entrance before carefully slipping inside, adding to her stimulation.

She's moaning too loudly, but she can't help it with the way his mouth is treating her. She grabs a spare pillow to press to her face, but Sakyo reaches up and bats it away. "I want to hear you." He insists before returning to her pussy, his lips and tongue writing sonnets on her clit.

She can't hold back as he adds a second finger inside her, pumping slowly in a stark contrast to his feverishly paced mouth.

She cards her fingers through his hair on instinct, tugging at him encouragingly, and he growls in response, working even harder to pull an orgasm from her.

He removes his fingers with an embarrassingly wet noise and replaces them with his tongue, easily reaching all the right places inside of her while his nose bumps hastily against her clit, sending a buzz through her with every brush.

She reaches down to help him out, circling two fingers around her clit while he fucks her with his tongue, and she feels herself throb desperately around him, her legs shaking.

"Sakyo, I... I'm close..." her voice wavers, her body arching, aching for release.

She wishes, fleetingly that he'd stick something else inside of her, but the thought is pushed aside by the building of her climax, and all too soon, her mind goes blank as she reaches her peak.

She cums on him with a drawn out cry of pleasure, feeling her walls pulse around his eagerly awaiting tongue.

Sakyo takes it all and sucks her dry, lapping up every last bit of her release with groans of his own. He doesn't let up until she finally comes down, and just when she starts to feel overstimulated, he pulls away with a parting kiss to her swollen lower lips.

"Well," Sakyo says, licking casually at his fingers. "We can consider the score settled."

Izumi huffs breathlessly, laying there seeing stars after such an intense orgasm, and is shocked at how easily he can switch to business, even with her arousal glistening on his lips and chin.

"Sure," she replies with a snort. "I'll just throw my clothes back on real quick, and be on my way, then."

Sakyo smirks. "Like it never even happened."

And that's pretty much how it goes. He carefully helps her to put her clothes back on, no trace of the desperate frenzy in his actions from only moments before.

"Give Minagi my regards," Sakyo says, seemingly back to his usual no-nonsense self.

Pretty soon, she's out his door, heading back to the lounge to help unwrap Tsuzuru, only slightly wobbly on her legs from what just happened.

If she didn't know better, she'd have thought it was all just a blissful dream.

[themidnightfarmer]

Papa don’t preach || Deirdre & Jared

Timing: Before the end of the party.

Location: The store/ Jareds farm/ middle of town (they wander)

Tagging: @deathduty & @themidnightfarmer

Description: Jared picks up an initially reluctant Deirdre for a good time!

Triggers: Mind alteration tw, injury tw, 

After the first night perhaps Jared had gotten a little carried away. But from his point of view what was the harm in keeping the party going as long as he possibly could. He’d never had this much of a good time during mushroom season, he’d really been missing out on just how good it felt to be free. With a growing mass of fae and enthusiastic ‘vicious’ type people back at the farm to take care of, Jared had made a trek out to the store to stock up. Load after load of juice, and alcohol, and food were being pushed into the bed of his truck when he felt eyes on him. Feeling that tingling in his fingertips he recognised this as what Lydia had described as sensing another fae. He smiled widely at the onlooker and waved a hand “You feeling like a party? Got a rager going on at my place.”

Deirdre was itching for a party, her body burned for it. She resisted the call the best she could, but the more she thought about the mushrooms, the more she wanted what they offered. Who was she kidding, anyway? She had always been terrible at resisting the pull of things; love, death, mushrooms. She burned her gaze into every fae she came across, the unspoken question of mushrooms hanging between them. Today, it happened to be some poor tall blonde man. “Fuck,” she hissed, “yes. I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been waiting for someone to ask. I just need someone to ask.” She twitched, bouncing with energy. Her mind screamed its arguments. This was wrong. What if there were mushrooms at this party? She said she would be avoiding those. She told Morgan she would. “Can I tag along?” She pointed to the truck, “I could use a good party really bad right now. I have all this energy from the---” she gestured wildly, “you know what. I’ve been trying not to step in one but---” She coughed, “just, yeah. I could use a party right now.”  

“Well, I’m asking bud!” Jared grinned at her. He closes up the bed of the truck and hits the metal. “Hop in, you can absolutely tag along.” His mood lifted even further when she implied what had given him joy these last few days. “Too late for me on theta front.” He told her holding the passenger door open for her to get in. “Have one next to the first barn on my farm. It just popped up this year with no warning. Never has before. But I guess with more and more like us in the area it’s likely it felt the need to be more liberal this season.” Almost skipping around to the drivers side he hopped in and smiled again turning the engine on and taking off. “I’m Jared, your host for the evening. Who’re you?”

Deirdre settled into his truck with excitement. It wasn’t until she was already buckled in that his comment about the mushrooms hit her. Oh no. Oh no, this was bad. She should stop. She should get out and-- “Mushrooms!” She cheered, “I knew I could count on you to have the good stuff, stranger. I love you. You’re my new best friend. I’m going to make a human get a tattoo of your face to show how much I love you.” She grinned madly, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. “Deirdre,” she introduced herself casually, “nice to meet you, Jared. I can’t believe you live on a farm. I grew up on one. I miss it.” She turned to him, “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, you and me. I know it. I promise it.”  

Not quite sure what to make of her comment about a tattoo his only comment was “If you do make sure it’s by Luce Vural.” The drive would take them out of town and then down the long dirt track to the outer gates of his land, so they had time to chat a little. “My farm isn’t like one you likely grew up on. Got a greenhouse, but I don’t really grow any crops. My livestock aren’t all that friendly either. Only bit that might be similar to a real farm is the horses. Got two working and one rescue. They’re real saviours of the place let me tell you.” The promise caught the nymph off guard and he blinked. “You promise? That’s wild, but you know-” he cut himself off and let the haze of excitement wash over him and chase away the worry. “Sounds rad. The others should all still be going strong in the barn.” Pulling up to the farm he delighted in pointing out the ring, visible from the spot he was parking in front of the house. And then gesturing to the rowdy group tucked away in the barn. “I’m adopting every last one of you guys into the family. I’m going to take good care of you, you’re going to have a fucking great season.” He enthused jumping out to unload the truck.

“No farm is like the one I grew up on,” Deirdre sighed, staring out at the landscape rushing past them. For a moment, she seemed to sober and remember that this was a bad idea. In another, she grew more excited for the planned party ahead. “I like horses,” she said absently, forgetting herself. When they finally reached Jared’s farm, she was happy to hop out and survey the land. So there was the barn, and there was the beautiful, beautiful ring--practically aglow against the grass. “Yeah, that sounds great and---I’m sorry, excuse me?” She snapped her attention to Jared, confused, “you’re going to do what? Adopt us? I’m sorry that---what? Adopt!?” He must have misspoke. Deirdre shook her head, remembered the mushrooms she was soon to be reunited with, and tried to help Jared unload. “You can’t adopt other fae...we’re technically already family.” 

“No farm is like mine either! Maybe not in set up but it’s one of a kind I'd think.” Jared laughed heartily, not really picking up on her mood, he was too in his own head about having potentially just found a fae that felt similar to his kids. Of course he was not a nymph of vicious fae, so any feeling he had was all down to the mushrooms, but in his mind he was really developing since he had stepped into that circle. Unloading the soda from the back of the truck Jared beamed. “Yeah adopt, or rescue like I do with my kids. You’ll all be safe to have a good time here is what I mean.” Had he been clear minded he would have been able to hear how weird that sounded, but as it stood he just laughed. “Well, no adoption required then, you’re already part of the family. Welcome to the farm.” On those words it was as if the spell on the fae and humans in the barn had been broken, the people started to spill out towards the bonfire again, and the music got louder. “This season is my first, I plan on doing it properly.” Jared admitted before nudging Deirdre towards the ring. “Come on, lets both do it right?!”

"Like you do with your—you have kids?" Deirdre watched Jared curiously, she hoped she might find some answer in the way he moved or the expression on his face. But he was serious. He wanted a family. "Uh huh…" Then she watched humans and fae pool out of his barn, moving their party across the pasture, towards a bonfire. Even as far as Fairy Ring parties went, this was impressive. She whistled under her breath, "you're doing good for yourself, Jared." And then there was the mushrooms. Deirdre froze, staring down at the ring. It wanted her, it called for her, she could feel Jared urging her and the other fae ready to welcome her in. But she didn't want this. She told Morgan she wouldn't, she told Morgan there would be more time and she—Deirdre's hand snapped out and she gripped Jared tightly. "I-I can't—" She started to cry, trembling wildly as she poured the last of herself into resisting. "Please, I don't want to—I don't—" She was begging nonsensically, pleading with herself and the mushrooms. Then she stepped forward. The mushrooms had won, and her tears dried against her face. She turned to Jared and grinned wide, "let's fucking party!" 

“My animals are my kids usually. I love every single one of them.” He told her with a beaming smile. “But lately people have been coming to stay and I can’t say I don’t like it an awful lot as well.” Dropping off the last box of chips Jared was startled out of his action by the woman grabbing his arm tight. He was almost shaken out of his daze by the tears in her eyes and the tone of her voice. What was wrong with the circle? Was there something he’d missed? Was he putting all his new family at risk being around it? But the moment seemed to pass as quickly as it started -if only to Jareds addled brain. His arm followed her as she took that one step needed to be in the circle. And then as if by magic, her fear was gone, the entire tone of her being had shifted into what it had been before. An excitement at the prospect of a party and not...whatever that had just been. Ignoring what had just happened wouldn’t have worked if he’d been more sober, but as it was, he took her hand and started to pull her towards the party. “Lets dance!” 

Jared was Deirdre’s bestest friend ever. Nevermind that they’d just met, and that she knew nothing about him other than the fact he was fae, blonde, tall, owned a farm and said strange things about family. It didn’t matter. Because he was one with the mushrooms too, just like Deirdre was. The banshee pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside, running towards the party with Jared. “I love you, Jared!” She screeched, maintaining a safe volume, but by a slim margin. “You’re like the best. I heard it from the shrooms. They said it!” The mushrooms welcomed Deirdre happily, just like the party. And she whooped and hollered and danced like she was born to do it. “Why aren’t you getting naked?” She asked her new best-friend forever.  

His responsible act was finished as soon as Deidre had changed her tune about the whole situation. She ran and laughed and started to take off her clothes and Jared remembered just how much he HATED wearing any. Stupid human laws about indecency, everyone used to be naked millions of years ago. Stupid humans had it all wrong. Running after her towards the crowd at the bonfire Jared pulled his shirt over his head and stumbled, falling and rolling trying to get his shoes off. He bounced up as soon as they were gone and he laughed, why on earth had he even gone for snacks and soda. Someone else should have gone, one of the humans who hadn’t had the urge to be rid of the barriers between them and nature. He reached Deirdre and grinned, weaving through the crowd of fae and humans alike to turn up the music. He offered her a hand. “Lets dance!”

Deirdre danced wildly, taking Jared’s hands and spinning around him, spinning him around her--there was a lot of spinning. So much so that at the end of it, the sky suddenly became the ground...or she’d simply fallen over and forgotten which way was up and which was down. Deirdre hopped back to her feet. “We should get louder!” She yelled to Jared, “the mushrooms like it when we’re loud! I can scream? Should I scream?” She wasn’t sure how long they’d been dancing, or how much longer they’d keep dancing. But it didn’t matter much to her, she would have stayed there all day. She was, after all, Jared’s family. And, weirdly, adopted by him? She hadn’t worked that one out yet. “Do we have to call you daddy?” She asked quietly, thinking about it more, “because that feels a little weird.” 

Jared had grown dizzy as well, and hadn’t been able to catch her when she’s fallen. But the grass in the pasture was thick, and hadn’t been too badly trampled yet by the party goers so she at least had a soft landing. Time seemed to be of no concern to almost everyone on the farm, even the host himself couldn’t tell anyone how long it had been from moment to moment, he only noted the sunrise and fall...and that was only if he looked up. “Scream away!” The nymph told her laughing, not having picked up on what kind of fae she was at all. It seemed like an innocent question to him. He wanted all his vicious kids to have whatever their hearts desired. “Daddy?” he giggled, and then snorted and then giggled again. “Yeah totally.” she didn’t have to, no one had to. But the idea caught him and he couldn’t keep himself in line. “Look at me, I’m your daddy now.” he said. If he remembered this when he was sober, the regret would set in for sure. But that was sober Jareds problem now.

It was weird. Even through the fog of mushrooms, Deirdre knew that. But this was Jared’s farm and if he wanted to adopt everyone, then that wasn’t a concern of hers. She looked at him as he commanded and giggled. “Sure thing, daddy!” Weirdness aside, Jared was her new best friend forever and she wasn’t going to let any weird names squander that. “So cover your ears!” She aimed up at the sky and let out a scream, and then another, timing the sounds to the beat of the mushrooms in her head. She turned to him with a grin, allowing the party sounds to swell louder around her. They all needed to scream, even if they couldn’t do it like her. “How was that, daddy?” 

He’d gotten the giggles, and when she actually bought into the joke Jared was sent into another round of them. This was however halted abruptly when she screamed. The shock sent out like a wave through the party. Everyone one by one covered their ears, although as soon as she was finished it didn’t take long for things to start back up again. The magic of mushroom season and a sprinkling of stray sod. “Holy heck that was wild, banshee? Never met a banshee!” He had all sorts of questions for her, but they were cut short by the sirens. Seemed the party had reached a loud enough state to warrant a nearby neighbour some grief that they’d never had before from Jared. And the scream had upped the stakes. The nymph blinked and just looked on as the cop car rolled up. The only rational part of his brain managing to have him reach for pants. “Can I help you officers?” he asked, trying to act cool, but his mind was still reeling. 

“Are you the property owner?” the cop asked looking at the crowd of people and then at Deirdre. “What’s going on here?”

Deirdre scrambled for her shirt--humans were so weird about toplessness--except she couldn’t find it, so she had to take one off another party goer and slip it on. She beamed at the cops, sliding up beside Jared. “Just a party,” she nodded, putting on her best ‘boring’ voice---humans liked that too. They wouldn’t take well to the giggling and the jumping about. “You know--” she nudged Jared, “I think I saw some drugs over there.” She pointed towards the mushroom ring, “not ours, obviously! But it’s weird that it’s just sitting there, right? You should come with us to check it out.” She tried to wink at Jared, but might just have been blinking oddly at him. The two officers looked at each other and sighed. Eventually, she managed to get an ‘okay’ out of one and a ‘sure, show us’ from the other. “Lead the way Dad---Jare!” She laughed and nudged Jared again. This was his farm, and he should get the honors of binding the two officers to the ring. 

The nymph was glad that Dierdre stepped forward with him. His head wasn’t quite screwed on tight enough for dealing with the law. He tried to avoid dealing with the law altogether if he could help it….unless it was his new friend Roland. That guy was cool. This train of thought had Jared mumbling about baby sharks before he was snapped back to the present by an elbow. A smile came over his face once again and he followed her lead. “No no drugs at this party no way no how unless someone else came with some.” He agreed before moving out of the way of the officers so that they could come further onto the property. Jared knew however -with a growing relief- that the officers would never make it to the ring. The stray sod had been spreading for days, the whole field was riddled with the stuff. They were going to lose all sense of what they’d come for in five, four, three- Jared bit his lip when the looks on the officers faces shifted. That was them, they were theirs now. They stopped moving and he took the closest officer's hand. “Here for the party right bud?” He said in a confident tone. He glanced at Deirdre and jerked his head. “Come on bud, let's get you a drink and maybe some face paint.” He handed the officers off to another partygoer and turned to Deirdre with a booming laugh. He glanced at the cop car sitting in the gateway and smirked at her. “Wanna do some doughnuts in town?”

Deirdre hadn't even noticed the stray sod, if she did, she might have said that was her ingenious plan instead. Getting officers into fairy rings could be a real pain in the ass, there were some promises they had to establish first to make sure they didn't blab, and an ever growing list of things they needed to double and triple check. It could be more tedious than it was fun. But stray sod was always fun. They hadn't even made it more than halfway there when confusion sank into their faces. She could imagine their thoughts scrambling around, where were they? How did they get there? Where did they want to go again, and which way was it? Once Jared led her away, Deirdre broke out into raucous laughter. "That was good!" And then she looked to the car, conveniently left on with the keys in the ignition. It was careless of them in retrospect, but Deirdre was sure they didn't expect anyone to be slipping past them and into their car. "Hell yeah!" She nudged Jared along, slipping into the passenger seat. "You drive because I'm bad at it!" She called out to him, happily tapping her fingers along the dashboard. All of this started with a car ride, all of this could end nicely with one too—not that she wanted it to end. 

With someone alongside him to urge him on in his whims, Jared had no way of stopping the mess that was likely to be the joyride through town. Whilst he’d felt himself sober enough to drive to get supplies earlier in the day, it had been a good while now dancing and passing through the mushroom circle earlier again hadn’t helped. His mind was full of fluff, and his heart was longing to keep having fun with his new friend. She was everything he didn’t know he’d been missing to the party and now that she was here he wanted to do even more than he had before. Into the driving seat and Jared flipped on all the sirens and he pulled the plug on the police radio so that they wouldn’t have the music blasting from the speakers interrupted by useless petty crime notifications. They were off. The drive down the first path was long but at speed it didn’t take long enough to notice. He drove straight into down and directly to the last location he knew there’d been a vehicle hijacking. His own tractor that time, but this time -as he pulled the handbrake and the car began to swing around, burning rubber in the desired doughnut shape- he called out “no moose statue to hit anymore!”

“DADDY JARED IS THE BEST!!” Deirdre screeched out the open car window. She wasn’t sure who she was talking to, or why she felt the need to say it, but it was true and of that she didn’t argue. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, but she hadn’t really understood all night. First she was at a store, then she was in a truck, then she was topless and now she was in another vehicle. The only thing that mattered was the mushrooms, and her new best friend---daddy---Jared. Then they were spinning, the sound of screeching rubber against the asphalt cutting across the air. “What?” She turned to Jared, “what was that about a moose statue?” She didn’t know what moose had to do with mushrooms, or with theft, but who was she to argue with Jared. "This is fun!" She yelled at him, until her eyes flickered to the clock. It was late, when had it gotten so late? Morgan would worry. And then there was the mushrooms, how had she allowed herself to get inside the fairy ring? Morgan would be mad. Deirdre frowned, and did what any sensible woman would do in her position: jumped out of the spinning car. She rolled across the asphalt, paying no mind to her cuts and scrapes. "I need to go home!" She told Jared, stepping back from the car. "I parked nearby! I'll just drive back!" 

One moment she was beside him screaming and laughing and the next she was gone. All Jared had done was blink, and then she’d vanished. He halted the cop car as fast as he could but his reaction times were just not with him that well. By the time he’d slowed to a stop she was on her feet and walked backwards away from him. He didn’t quite understand why she wanted to leave all of a sudden but if she is leaving his top priority was to go back to the party and find something fun to do. He raised a hand and gave her a beaming smile. “NICE MEETING YOU.” he called, and because of the mushroom daze he was in he didn’t give her any more thought. She was leaving and that meant he had to find a new person to have fun with. He drove home for that very reason, not looking back.

[fieryanmitsu]

Splash | A3! (Tasuku/Female Reader)

This is a gift-fic for 🍀 Anon! Thanks again for spreading some positivity around the A3! fandom! As promised, here is a little gift for you~ This is a Tasuku/Reader story about them spending some time together at the beach! Since you said that I could choose the personality, I went with a shy female reader who surprises us with a bit of a mischievous streak! For some more context, the reader is a worker at a flower shop and she is already in an established relationship with Tasuku.

Please enjoy!

SPLASH

CHARACTERS: Tasuku Takato

PAIRINGS: Tasuku/Female Reader

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

Hearing the bell above the door ring, you looked up from the bouquet that you were wrapping and saw that the person who had walked in was none other than your boyfriend. It had only been a few months since the two of you had started dating, and you still felt shy calling him that. Even thinking about him that way made your face heat up.

“Tasuku! I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” you greeted him with a smile. “Are you here to pick something up for Tsumugi?”

“Yeah, he realized that he ran out of fertilizer, so he wanted me to pick up a couple of bags.”

“Give me just a second. I’ll grab it for you once I finish wrapping this bouquet,” you replied.

“Take your time. I’ll just look around while I wait.”

Hearing Tsumugi’s name made you remember how thankful you were to the blue-haired man. It was only with his intervention that you’d managed to work up the nerve to ask Tasuku out on a date, after all.

Once you’d put the finishing touches on the bouquet and gently set it aside in the flower cooler, you stepped into the back room and grabbed two bags of the brand of fertilizer that you knew Tsumugi favoured.

Seeing you bringing out the fertilizer, Tasuku quickly walked back over to the counter to join you. As he walked over, you took another glance at him and noticed that his skin was much darker than it had been when you saw him a few days ago.

“Did you get a tan since I last saw you, Tasuku?”

“Hmm? I guess it must have been from yesterday. A few of us went to the beach to help out Omi’s friend at their beach hut.”

“Really? That sounds fun… I haven’t been to the beach in a long time,” you responded wistfully. “I would love to go sometime, too, but my friends aren’t really into the beach.”

You turned to the cash register and quickly punched in the total for the two bags of fertilizer. As you began to write out a receipt, you didn’t notice that Tasuku had fallen silent.

“Okay, so the total is 1,320 yen with tax.”

Tasuku counted out the money into the coin tray and then hefted up the fertilizer in his arms. However, rather than turning to leave, he stared at you with a thoughtful look. You weren’t used to being scrutinized like this and you felt a blush creep up your neck.

“Is-Is there dirt on my face or something?” you asked self-consciously, rubbing at your cheek automatically.

After another moment of silence, Tasuku finally opened his mouth.

“You have a day off on Friday, right? Let’s go to the beach together.”

It took a second for his words to sink in, and your eyes widened.

“Th-the beach? But weren’t you just there?”

“Yeah, but you want to go, right? So, let’s go,” he replied with a shrug of his broad shoulders, his eyes pointedly not meeting your gaze.

As if his embarrassment were contagious, your eyes flickered down to stare at your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips.

“Ahhh, the breeze feels so nice!” you exclaimed as a warm wind blew past you.

“I’m glad it’s not too hot today, or this wouldn’t be as pleasant,” Tasuku responded as he finished setting up the parasol over your towels and bags. “Was there anything you wanted to do?”

“Hmmm, do you mind if we just walk along the water first?” you asked. You would rather bury your head into the sand before you admitted to Tasuku that you wanted to stroll around because it meant you didn’t have to stare at his half naked body directly. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a nice body – rather, it was too nice, and staring at it made the blood rush to your head.

“Sure, that sounds fine to me. It’ll be refreshing to feel the water around our feet.”

As you were about to head towards the water, Tasuku’s hand suddenly enveloped one of yours. You were sure that there must be a goofy grin on your face and that your skin was as red as if it were sunburned, but you happily leaned into his side as you walked.

Once you reached the water’s edge, you giggled as the waves washed over your ankles. You never would have dreamt that Tasuku would have offered to take you to the beach. Especially since he had grumbled the whole car ride to the beach about how much of a pain it had been when he had been here last week. Yet, here he was again. The thought that he had wanted to make you happy, despite his own indifference about the beach, made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine.

With a spring in your step, the two of you strolled in a comfortable silence until you suddenly spotted something glistening in the sand in front of you. Kneeling, you saw that it was a beautiful, iridescent seashell.

“Ah, Tasuku, look at this! Isn’t this seashell gorgeous?” you asked, plucking it out of the sand carefully.

“Mmm, I guess so?”

“This would look amazing in the terrarium I’m making… Maybe I can even make it into a seaside theme…” you murmured to yourself as your mind turned back to work, where you had recently begun working on some decorative terrariums.

“Do you want to look for more?” Tasuku interrupted.

At the sound of his deep voice, you suddenly realized that you’d completely zoned out and you flushed furiously.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you! And it’s fine! I’m sure that looking for seashells would be boring – we should do something that you’ll enjoy more.”

Rather than responding, Tasuku walked past you and began sifting through the sand ahead with his hands. You could feel a hot feeling catch in your throat. Tasuku was always a bit brusque, and sometimes you weren’t quite sure what he was thinking. However, it was moments like this that reminded you of why you had fallen head over heels for him. He was a bit clumsy, but his actions always showed how kind he was deep down inside.

“Is something like this okay?” he asked, showing you another small shell.

“Yes, that’s perfect!”

Soon, you were both crouched down shifting around in the sand, excitedly showing off the seashells that you found to each other. After setting aside another pretty shell, you looked up to see Tasuku bent over in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt an irresistible and childish urge. Before you could really think about it too much, you cupped your hands and dipped it in the water in front of you… and sent a huge splash of water right over Tasuku.

“GAAH!” Tasuku sputtered, whipping around to glare at you. The look on his face under his wet hair caused you to giggle uncontrollably.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” he growled.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you apologized through your laughs. “I-I couldn’t h-help it!”

Your boyfriend gave you an unamused look, but it was quickly replaced with a devilish smirk that made your heart skip a beat.

“Well, two can play at that game. I hope you’re ready to reap what you sow.”

And, then, suddenly, Tasuku’s handsome face was in front of yours. The next second, you were screaming as he hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Tasukuuuuu!!” you shrieked. Your scream only rose in volume as you were subsequently tossed into the air and landed in the ocean with a giant splash.

You spluttered and coughed as you brought your head out of the salty water. After you regained your footing in the shallow water and pushed your wet hair out of your face, you could only glare balefully at your boyfriend.

“That was a dirty move!” you exclaimed.

Tasuku only snorted and shrugged, pretending to play innocent. Wanting to wash that smirk off of his face, you dipped your hands into the water again and splashed him once more. With a yelp, he sent a wave of water back at you, and, soon, the two of you were laughing as you kept splashing each other. He even managed to toss you into the water again, despite your protests.

Finally, when you were both tired out from chasing each other in the water under the hot sun, you trudged back up to the shore. It was at that moment that you realized you had completely forgotten about your seashells, which you had been piling on the sand earlier.

“Ah, they’re all gone!” you lamented as you scanned the area where you had been searching earlier.

“They must have washed away with the waves,” Tasuku remarked. “We can look again for more, but how about we get you dried off first and grab a bite to eat?”

“Sounds good to me! I want to try that curry you talked about!” you responded with a smile, taking the hand that he offered you.

“Uh, that was definitely a one-time thing. Please don’t expect them to have that there normally…”

Hope you all enjoyed this short little story! It’s a different style than how I usually write (this might be my first attempt at second-person POV, now that I think about it), so please do leave a comment and let me know what you all thought! Also, please do reblog if you enjoyed it! Thanks again for reading~

-Anmitsu

[punkpoemprose]

Annulment- Kristanna Law Enforcement AU Pt. 2

Universe: Law Enforcement AU Word Count: 3438 Rating: T (Teen & Up Audiences, Anna still wants to see Kristoff naked and they both want to do the deed but they don’t, sorry, spoilers)

Notes: Happy “Unbirthday” @kristoffxannafanatic! (Also another happy birthday because it was just a few days ago afterall) I hope you enjoy a little continuation to that Law Enforcement AU I started ages ago! I hope this answers some of the questions that it left open.

When Kristoff was released from the hospital Anna was there. There were a few other guys from the fire department too, filling him in on cases, shooting the shit, but she was, for better or for worse, his interdepartmental partner and she’d be damned if she wasn’t the one to take him home after all they’d been through.

She straightened her uniform and stood tall, walking through the crowd of guys twice her size to the man who was, and would be a few more days, her husband.

“Lieutenant,” she said formally, the uniform lent to her ability to be serious around him. In the day they’d had him under observation after he woke up, she had been perfectly incapable of staying cool towards him, not when she really liked him and not when they’d just made it out of such a tight spot. She’d shown him Anna, giggly clumsy Anna, and while she thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind showing him more of that side of her, she didn’t think that the rest of the hose haulers deserved it, not when she needed them to take her seriously.

Kristoff, despite being addressed by his title, looked like anything but a first responder. Being in a hospital for a couple days was enough to make anyone look a mess, but he was surprisingly well put together despite not looking as professional next to everyone in uniform. His hair was a bit mussed on top and he was dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, but he had a smile on his face and was standing tall.

“Detective,” he said respectfully, but a softness came to his eye when he looked down to her. They’d been through a lot, and the one constant through it had been the fact that they’d faced it together. She knew that it was a fact that meant as much to him as it did to her.

She nodded curtly but gave him a hint of a smile in return. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to tell him how much she was looking forward to their date that evening, how much she was looking forward to having him in her home.

It had to wait until he was in the car. The last thing she needed was for them to walk out to well meaning jeers and kissy noises.

“Well fellas,” he said turning back to the men around him, “My ride’s here. I’ll see you back at the house in a few days. Tell Kai I appreciate him bringing Sven back to my place.”

There was some nods of acknowledgement and some slapping of backs and they were off through the hospital, out the doors, and into her car.

“Oh the department didn’t send a cruiser after me? I’m hurt.”

Anna grinned as he climbed into the passenger seat of her sedan.

“The only thing criminal about you Bjorgman is your jokes.”

He laughed and she couldn’t help but grin to herself as she set off back towards his place.

“Nice one Bjorgman,” he said in return, “though I’m going to miss getting the chance to say that. Arendelle is pretty and all but I thought mine suited you alright if you don’t mind me saying so.”

She wouldn’t necessarily miss him calling her by his last name when they were out and about, but she thought that maybe she would miss being his wife, even if only for the fact that it had given her a lot more privileges at his side in the hospital than she would have had as just his partner.

“I’m going to miss having the time together for you to crack jokes,” she admitted, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we caught that arsonist, but less fires means less time for us to spend together.”

She saw him nodding in her periphery.

“So either I have to start setting places on fire or you need to cross over to the dark side. They’d like you over in the department you know, especially Sven, he’s always looking for new people to beg for treats from.”

She laughed, “Yeah, I don’t think either of those are great options.”

“Then I guess we just have to spend more time together outside of work.”

She thought about the possibility and it made her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t tell him about just how much time she wanted to spend with him outside of work, about how despite everything that had transpired between them since she joined the force, she’d always found him quite attractive. She was ready though to tell him how much she was looking forward to giving this “dating thing” a try with him. If she was being honest with herself, and honest with him, she’d been lonely before they met, and even with the teasing and her mock coldness toward him, he’d started to fill a gap in her chest. He’d quickly built bridges across the hole in her heart that she’d been terrified would always be a uncrossable, uncontainable chasm.

“I guess we will.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him smile brightly, and she couldn’t help the shy quirk of her own lips that followed.

***

She’d seen him in his dress uniform on many occasions, but it ended up that even in his civilian dress he cleaned up nice. He’d worn a thermal Henley, and she decided within a moment of seeing him that she really liked the way he looked in it. His arms stretched the sleeves and she’d almost sliced her hand from distraction watching him stretch. Her brain was unable to focus on cutting apples for the pie she was making when he was in front of her looking like that.

Her breath caught in her throat every time she thought he was going to catch her staring at him, and then again when she thought that it didn’t matter if she stared at her husband.

Her husband who she was only dating. The man who had agreed to the annulment that she wanted and didn’t. The man who she’d thought she’d lost and was terrified of losing again in a completely different way. Everything between them was so new, but she could already imagine what a forever with him would look like. She still couldn’t remember their wedding, drunken mad thing that it was, but she couldn’t help but to think that maybe what she was thinking about him now was what she had been thinking about him then.

That loving him would be easy. That loving him was already easy. That she would love to spend a lifetime with his smile and teasing and those arms wrapped around her.  

She was blushing, watching him sit at her dining room table with Sven at his side. The large Border Collie was gratefully accepting apology pets from his master, alternating between his attentions and padding over to the kitchen where Anna was slipping him apple slices. Anna found that treats were indeed the secret to the dog’s good graces, though the pets she’d been giving him behind the ears certainly weren’t hurting her case either. She’d heard once that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and she wondered if Kristoff would be equally swayed by apple pie and a few scratches. She didn’t think that he needed a lot of convincing anyway, seeing the way he looked at her, but she wouldn’t waste an excuse to card her fingers through his hair if she got the chance. Maybe, she thought, she’d check the bump on his head.

“The lasagna is going to be done in a few,” she said, pulling his attention from Sven to her. She had been planning on having the pie made ahead but had wound up forgetting the first one in the oven and had spent most of her backup pie baking time trying to get the smoke smell out of her kitchen.

Normally burning dessert was embarrassing, but on a date with a firefighter? On a date with her firefighter husband? On a date with her firefighter husband after they’d just wrapped up a case about a serial arsonist who burned down Italian restaurants? That was just downright mortifying.

“It smells great,” he said, his eyes locking with hers from across the small room, making her blush. “Are you sure I can’t help you with anything?”

Oh, she thought, there were plenty of things that he could help her with. There were plenty of things that she’d already been dreaming of, things that she’d rather die than speak out loud, at least for now. The heat that was already in her cheeks intensified as some of those “helpful” scenarios played across her vision.

“You could pour me a glass of wine if you want, but otherwise, no, I’ve got it.”

She was saved by the bell when the oven beeped, letting her turn from him before he noticed how he was affecting her. She wasn’t ready for him to be smug about her interest in him, because while he never really seemed to be arrogant, just teasing, she was afraid of how quickly she might give in to her thoughts if he’d bring them up.

She took the food out of the oven and stuck the pie in. The work of not burning herself was enough to occupy her mind and get it off the image of him pinning her to the wall, caging her in those arms as they decided to say fuck the annulment… literally.

She set the lasagna on a potholder on the counter. She liked to cook but hadn’t had the chance or the reason to do so since her sister had taken a job with a legal defense fund in a city a couple hours away. She tried to focus on the joy of being able to cook again, instead of the fact that this was a date.

He’d crossed the room without her noticing, and Anna nearly dropped the garlic bread she was holding in her mitted hands when she saw him staring at her admiringly. There was always something sincere in his eyes that made her heart feel like it was about to leap out of her chest. She’d been told before that she was bad at reading people, that she jumped to conclusions too fast, that all her abilities to judge people on the job seemed to float away when she was off shift, but she knew that everything Kristoff ever did around her, everything he said, every look, every touch, meant something. He was charming, and even more important than that, he was sincere.

“Anna,” he said, looking from her to the food she’d just taken out of the oven and back to her, “that looks amazing.”

“Well I’m glad it lives up to the smell,” she said, trying to look somewhere other than his eyes because she knew that if he kept looking at her like that, they were not going to get to dinner at all.

***

The wine had her feeling warm and relaxed. She had already sworn to herself that she was never going to get drunk again, least of all with Kristoff. It wasn’t because she was worried that they’d do something exceedingly stupid though. No, the concern was more that she wanted more than anything to remember every moment she spent with him from the moment they’d been in that blaze together on. He’d almost died, she’d almost died, and she wasn’t going to waste another moment if she could help it.

They’d been through dinner and dessert for some time. The television was playing some crime procedural that they were both having fun laughing at and commenting on.

“Oh yes, let me just put this sample of completely charred god only knows what into a mass spectrometer and it’ll tell me exactly who committed this murder.”

She snorted when laughing at his falsetto impression of an overly sing-song-y female lab technician. She tried to cover the sound but failed spectacularly, earning her a curious but soft look from him that made butterflies take up residence in her stomach.

“You snort when you laugh.”

She frowned. She knew it was probably unattractive, but sometimes when she really got laughing, it happened.

“Yeah… sorry.”

His hand, warm and solid, completely engulfed her own when he reached over to carefully knit their fingers together. She let him take her hand, slipping her fingers into his with ease, like it was something they did all the time.

The butterflies knew better, their wings beating again in her gut when he tugged lightly on her hand and beckoned her closer to him. It was all she could do to not immediately hop into his lap and stay there as long as he’d let her.

“It’s cute,” he said as she settled a bit closer to his side. His voice was soft, and she could detect nervousness in his tone. Gone was much of his bravado from before, where he’d teased her on the job and at the hospital and at pretty much every moment where he could get a joke in.

He’d said that he’d teased her, that he’d been such a goof, just to get her to smile.

She would have looked away to blush if it weren’t for the fact that his face was flushed as well, and she knew it had to do with more than just the wine. She held his gaze, let herself feel warm and like the cute girl he seemed to think that she was. No one had ever called her cute before, maybe her parents or her sister, or someone saying it mockingly, but she knew that Kristoff, for all his jokes, would never mock her.

“Oh,” she managed, her voice small and high, not at all the authoritative tone she’d worked years to perfect, “Thank you.”

She didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but he seemed even closer now, especially his face. She glanced down at his lips and back at his eyes. They were so close that she would barely have to shift to be kissing him, maybe to even be in his lap.

A little voice in the back of her head, the one she relied on most at work, told her that she was in no danger, but her heart was racing. She decided to trust it, to trust the cloying look in his eyes that told her she could probably sock him in the jaw and he’d thank her for it. She leaned forward and pressed her lips into his.

A hazy memory filled her thoughts as he pulled her into his arms, his lips moving against hers. This wasn’t their first kiss, and while she’d expected as much, she could recall him holding her to his chest and calling her beautiful and kissing her like she was air. It had been in Vegas, when they’d married. This kiss, in contrast was soft and slow and gentle. He was bringing her closer to him, wrapping her up in those ridiculously strong arms of his, and exploring the feel of her under his hands in the shyest way. She put out her own arms, letting her hands settle on his muscled shoulders as she deepened their kiss, chasing the memory of passion strong enough that they’d decided, albeit under the influence, to marry. He reciprocated, pulling her tighter, his lips moving against hers with barely concealed want. His stubble scratched against her face, and the soft sounds that she made were rewarded with deep throaty responses from him.

Sven jumped off the couch, startling them both.

She looked down at the dog, who quickly settled himself on the rug, content to simply move away from his owner and take up space elsewhere.

A warm, breathless chuckle slipped from Kristoff’s lips and Anna felt his eyes on her before she turned to see him staring at her openly and with the sort of rapture, she fuzzily remembered him having when he’d kissed her before. After they’d said, “I do”.

“You’re not drunk are you?”

The question caught him off guard, but a smile came to his eyes.

“Maybe,” he offered with a self-deprecating shrug, “But not off the wine.”

***

Anna awoke slowly, noticing first that her fingers were intertwined with bigger ones and that it felt very right. He was at her back and she knew that he was awake already in the soft morning light. He’d stayed with her, again.

“If you keep sleeping over,” she said, groggily with a yawn, “They’re not going to believe that the annulment on terms of ‘no consummation’ is valid.”

He chuckled warmly against her neck and her heart raced, waking her up fully when his lips pressed against the crown of her head, her mussed hair undoubtedly tickling his face. Sven, who was still asleep at the foot of the bed, was snuggled warm against Anna’s feet, and if she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep, she thought that maybe she could return to the dream she’d been having. The one where she married Kristoff on purpose, the one where their kisses went further and where they weren’t about to go finalize their split with a lawyer in a few short hours.

“Oh trust me,” he said, pulling her a little closer to his chest in a way that made Anna feel safe and protected and secure in a way that she’d never felt before him, “It’s taking every ounce of my strength to keep that true.”

She knew that she should roll over and swat at his chest, to teasingly reprimand him for being so salacious, but she couldn’t. She was too busy imagining that life again, the one where they didn’t need to hold back, the one where they woke up snuggled together every morning tangled together and bare instead of half clothed with a dog at their feet for “insurance”. They wouldn’t mentally scar Sven after all, and Anna had to admit that she did enjoy the foot warmer.

“Worry not,” she said in her best ‘crime drama terrible actor pretending to be a cop’ voice, “I too, am making a valiant effort.”

He made an appreciate sound in the back of his throat and Anna felt him kissing against her shoulders, “Just a few more hours of willpower Mrs. Bjorgman.”

She melted into him with the words. They felt right. She’d been mad at him for teasing her with it before, and she hated to admit, even now, that her annoyance might have stemmed from the fact that she liked the idea of being his wife and didn’t want it to just be a joke. She liked the idea of continuing their partnership beyond work, and while she was confident in the fact that she didn’t want to be married quite yet, she would miss hearing him call her his wife.

“I’m going to miss having you as a husband,” she said, glad he couldn’t see just how brightly she was already flushing at the words and at the attention he was paying her, “You’re a pretty good partner for a hose hauler.”

She could feel his smile against her skin. It was one of the most intimate feelings she’d ever experienced in her life.

“And I’m going to miss being married to such a feisty little canary,” he replied, his nicknames made her heartache, “But I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

She pulled their joined hands up to her lips and pressed a few closed mouth kisses along his knuckles, “I’d like it if you stayed… You know, if we kept doing this.”

She squeezed his hand and pressed back into him gently to show him what she meant even though she was sure he understood anyway.

“I’d like nothing more,” he said, his lips now against her ear, “Well… excluding of course spending our day off in bed.”

She had to close her eyes, feeling suddenly overstimulated from the feeling of him all around her, the sound of his voice thick with promise against her ear.

“After we meet with the lawyer,” she reminded, and then with a little squeeze of her heart added, “After that I’m going to make all that patience worth it.”

He all but growled with appreciation, and Anna decided that while they’d gone about the whole dating and marriage thing backwards, she was looking forward to the next time that he’d be able to call her Mrs. Bjorgman.

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 28 ~Stags and Hens~

Claire looked in the mirror.  No freaking way! 

Geillis had lent her a dress that emphasised her burgeoning curves when she would have preferred something loose. Turning sideways, she glanced once more at her reflection. Although she had gained weight and had a slight tummy, she didn't look pregnant at all.  Curvy, yes.  She turned around to check out her behind and admired the snug fit over the swell of her arse. Even her breasts had filled out, and the dress fitted her front in all the right places.

Before her pregnancy, she had always been thin and lanky, and her height had only accentuated her leanness. And now, much to her pleasant surprise, her curves filled the dress quite nicely.

Her hands absentmindedly smoothed the dress down and bit her lip.  What will Jamie think? Is the dress too daring?

She let out a big sigh and thought about changing, but she realised Geillis wouldn't allow it. She would probably march her right back into her bedroom and wait until she chose another outfit. Might as well embrace the look, she thought. After all, this was her hen night.

The printed black minidress barely skimmed the top of her knees, and the black suede knee-high boots boasted chunky heels making her even taller. The scooped neckline exposed an ample amount of cleavage, revealing plenty of creamy white skin. Completing the look, she donned on a leather jacket to give the whole outfit a less formal appearance. 

She squinted at her face. Mascara darkened her lashes, the blush highlighted her cheekbones and the red lipstick brought out the paleness of her skin and the honey gold of her eyes. Usually tied up in a bun, she left her curls loose.  Not bad, Beauchamp!

Claire was determined to enjoy her bachelorette night and put the incident with Geneva behind her. The episode of that fateful night had definitely scarred her for life. But not quite as much as what Isobel had to endure. Earlier, she had paid her a visit at the hospital. Horrified at the damage that was inflicted on her skin, Claire had almost cancelled her wedding to Jamie. However, she made a promise to Isobel.

"Don't let my sister win, Claire. If you cancel your wedding because of what happened to me, then you're helping Geneva achieve her goal by disrupting your life. She may be locked up in jail, but she can still hold power over you if you allow it. Go ahead with the wedding and don't allow what I tried to stop from happening to be in vain. Promise me, Claire."

And so Claire promised. If Isobel was brave enough to face what was coming ahead of her, then she too will dig deep and find that courage.

Loud voices caught her attention and brought her back to the present. Taking a deep breath, Claire grabbed her clutch and came out of her bedroom. Three pair of eyes settled on her as soon as she walked into the living space.

Geillis let out a high-pitched squeal and clapped. "Oh, Claire, that dress is perfect! Ye have some killer curves on ye. I knew it would suit ye. What do ye think, lads?"

Feeling conscious, Claire tugged the edge of her jacket. "Thank you. The material feels lovely, and I wasn't so sure if I could pull it off."

"Ach, ye dinna ken how to buy a dress in yer size. Ye always buy a size too big. It's yers now. That dress is more for a leggy person like ye."

Willie smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Ye look fabulous, Claire. I hope ye girls have fun tonight."

"Thanks, Willie. And you too."

She waited for Jamie's response, but his face remained inscrutable. Holding her breath, she watched him approach and slid his hands underneath her jacket to pull her against him. Careful not to ruin her makeup, he gave a feather-light kiss on her cheek. "Ye look stunning, Sassenach," he whispered, for her ears only. "I feel like saying, zip up this jacket because yer tits are quite an eyeful. Instead, I'm going to be an understanding fiance, suck it up like a good man and wish ye a fun-filled hen party." And then he turned his head towards Geillis. "...and hopefully, not too rowdy. She's pregnant, mind?" he said in a louder voice.

She tried her best to suppress her amusement. Cupping Jamie's face with both hands, he turned his face towards her. "Well, Mr Fraser, I wish you a lovely evening too. I heard the lads in the kitchen arranged ...uhm, let say an interesting stag-do for you. Something that involves ... a dancer?"

Jamie groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "I have no idea about a dancer, I swear. To be honest, I'd rather skip this part and have a quiet evening with ye ..."

"Oh no, ye don't," Geillis disagreed, seizing Claire's hand before Jamie could give her any ideas. "Ye have a lifetime ahead of ye to spend time together. I'm not lettin' ye take this away from me."

Willie laughed out loud. "Come on, Jamie. We best get going. The cab is waiting for us outside."

A loud beeping echoed down the street. 

"That's our ride, princess," Geillis announced, tugging Claire's hand once more.

"Oh by the way, where are ye going?" Jamie called out to their retreating backs.

"None of yer business! This is Claire's evening and nae lads allowed. Ye have yer own evening to worry about. See ye later and don't wait up for us!"

As the girls stepped outside, a white stretched limousine was already in the driveway with a bunch of giggly, happy women waving through the tinted windows. On the other side of the street were two cabs waiting for Jamie and Willie.

A tingle of exhilaration shimmered down Claire's spine. Ignoring the howls and whistles from Jamie's friends in the other vehicles, they climbed into their limo. Scents of mingled perfume, alcohol and feminine excitement floated in the air. Jenny, Louise and three other friends from her college were dressed to impress, and they each had a plastic flute of champagne. Claire wished she could have a drink. Instead, she grabbed a bottle of water Geillis offered to her.

Drinks flowed, and gossips were exchanged as they were driven to their destination. After eating and partying at a Cabaret show, they piled back in the limo and hit a gay strip bar where they danced and partied some more. Although Claire couldn't join in the girls' drinking fest, she had a great time.

Their last stop was their village pub which was walking distance from their house. As they went in, they were quickly ushered to the backroom. The place was bursting to the seams, and the music blared loudly from the speakers. Claire's friends were already half-way drunk, and they were soon joined by more females from the hotel who just got off work to celebrate with them.

Geillis bumped into her, spilling some of her drink. "Are ye ready for the main event? Louise arranged it."

"I know it's a male stripper. I overheard the plan," Claire cringed. "I don't want a naked man pawing me. As my best friend and maid of honour, you need to step up and be my wingman."

"Wing woman ye mean," Geillis hiccuped, as she took a sip of her cocktail. "Mmmm, this is so good and extra fruity. So ye overheard the plan, aye?"

Claire motioned to the chair in the middle of the room. "Well, a pretend cop is supposed to come in and tell us off for being boisterous, and then drags me to that chair so he can writhe all over me. Not my idea of fun!"

"Sounds like a solid plan to me."

Claire glared, but the effect was lost when Geillis slurped her drink. "I need you to take the hit for me. When the stripper comes in, you take my place. Please!"

Another hiccup. "I don't look like ye though," Geillis pointed out.

"It doesn't matter. Everyone's drunk. No one will notice. The girls just want to see a naked body."

"Aye, about that. Ye invited all the female staff from the hotel. Of course, they'll want to see a naked body."

Claire grinned. "Well, they missed out on the fun because they had to work. So I guess the stripper is the next best thing. So, are you going to do it? Take my place?"

"Hell no! In as much as I would love to have a hot body gyrating in front of me, Louise will kill me if I took yer place. This is her gift for ye. I'm not going to be the one to spoil her pressie."

"Damn it! I wish I could drink to numb my brain. Fine! I'll do it, but it doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Geillis pressed a noisy kiss on her cheek. "Dinna fash, lass. It will be a bloody laugh. Oh, here, ye'll need a lot of these." Her friend stuffed a handful of pound notes into her fist.

"Yay, me. I finally get to stick money in a bloke's G-string. I can tick off an item from my bucket list," she muttered sarcastically.

Geillis gave her a sympathetic look. "This one is for ye. Have a drink," she said, handing her cocktail from a nearby bar table. "I ordered it. It's a Virgin Colada. I promised Jamie no alcohol will touch yer lips, but this is yummy."

Claire smiled and softened up as she took a sip from her non-alcoholic beverage. "Sorry for sounding ungrateful and being a grump about the stripper. You girls have pulled off a fabulous party for me, and I appreciate it."

Geillis quickly hugged her before raising her glass. "Ach, it's nae bother. What are friends for. Here's to friendship!"

"Friends forever!"

Their glasses clinked and tipped over, and a third of their drinks spilt on the floor. They looked at each other and burst into giggles before they heard a loud shriek coming from Louise. 

"What!?! What do you mean the stripper isn't coming?"

..........

Jamie, Willie and their friends entered their local village pub. They have been bar-hopping in the neighbouring towns all evening, drinking, and playing pool and darts. Since they all lived nearby, they had decided to stop by for one last drink before heading home. The place was packed and loud as expected of a Bank Holiday weekend. 

Although he had wanted a more subdued bachelor's party, it felt great to hang out with his brother and closest male acquaintances. The only time their party became rowdy was when Jamie was presented with a lap dancer at one of the bars. With phone cameras readily accessible and thinking of how it would look like in the social media, he waivered his right as the man of the hour to his friend, Rupert, who was only too happy to oblige. The last thing he needed was a picture of him in an uncompromising situation. 

At the bar, Willie ordered a round of pints and shots for the stag party. Jamie was about to reach for his drink when screams ran through the pub, making everyone crane their necks to look at the commotion. The backroom, usually used for private parties, was lively. Music blared, and he caught a swarm of short skirts, swishing hair and loud revelry.

"Bloody hen party. They're all from yer hotel," the bartender explained as if reading his thoughts. "One of the lasses ordered a male stripper, but I just got a phone call from the lad saying he cannae make it. He came down with the flu or something. I just told one of them, and she wasn't too pleased. When they all hear about it, I'm dead meat. It's all paid for."

A grin tugged at Willie's lips as he looked at Jamie. "Ach, our hens are in there. I remember Geillis saying something about Louise ordering a stripper. Do ye think Claire will be disappointed?" 

Before he could reply, a resounding slap hit him on the back. "Weel, Jamie lad, perhaps she'll be disappointed or maybe not. How about giving those lasses something to remember, aye?" Murtagh sallied. "Do a striptease for yer bride. It'll be a story worth telling yer future grandchildren one day."

"If ye're not up for it, I wouldn't mind doing it," Rupert interrupted, joining in the banter and shaking his hips.

Something wicked lit up in him. Inebriated and feeling bold, he playfully shoved his mate on the shoulder. "Aye, that'll be right! No fucking way are ye going anywhere near my Claire. I'm doing it."

Everyone in their party hooted and chanted his name.

"Get in there lad and claim yer bride!"

"Aw, c'mon, Fraser. In a couple of days, she's all yers. I just want to show the lass what she'll be missing once ye're both hitched," Rupert whined, feigning disappointment.

Jamie drained his beer and signalled for another round. "I got this pal. Go get yersel' yer own bride," he grinned, shrugging off his jacket.

"Hey, I have the lad's costume here at the back if ye're doing it. He's about yer size so ye'll have no trouble fitting in it. There's also a wig and a pair of aviator's glasses," the bartender offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Jamie nodded and made his way to the room behind the bar. It didn't take long before he was kitted into a snug-fitting, fake police uniform. Glancing at the small mirror, he was thrilled at how the black wig, cap and the aviator's glasses concealed his identity nicely. It was a good thing he had shaved off his beard as it would have ruined his disguise. Satisfied, he went back to his friends and was greeted with howls of laughter and cheers. After drinking a couple of shots of whisky, the stag party, led by Jamie, made their way to the back room.

Jamie reached the door, and a petite brunette stumbled out on teetering heels and ran into his chest. He caught her on time. She was one of the staff from the restaurant in their hotel. Her blue eyes sparkled and widened at the sight of him, but there was no trace of recognition. "Ladies!" she screeched as a round of giggles floated past. "Get the music ready!" 

Someone grabbed his hand and led him into the room.

He frowned, alcohol dulling his brain for a moment. Then he remembered why he was there. He looked around and found himself in a snake pit. His brother and friends had disappeared into the dark corners, and he was surrounded by women.

There were lots and lots of women, and most of them he knew, but no one recognised him, most probably because of their intoxicated state. They stared at him like he was a feast served on a silver platter. The group started to scream and stamp their heels on the floor.

"He's here!" Louise yelled. "Get ready for an arrest, ladies!"

A lone chair stood in the centre of the circle under the bright light. Suddenly, Joe Cocker's  You Can Leave Your Hat On  blared through the speakers.  Aaah, shite, what have I gotten myself into?

"Take it off, lad!"

"I'm breaking the law, darling, come on over here!"

Louise giggled and crooked her finger. "I've been awfully bad, officer. And I'm concealing a deadly weapon. Come frisk me!" He nearly ran out of the room when she began to jiggle her breasts at him.

He was drunk, and the women were even more so. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jamie was about to turn around and end the charade when Geillis shook her head in annoyance and yanked his arm. She seemed irritated by his inaction. Obviously, she too was too drunk to recognise him.

"Listen, pal. My mates and I paid good money for ye," she whispered venomously. "Ye look good enough to eat but don't just stand there. Give us a show. We won't bite."

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!  "Listen, this is a mistake," Jamie started. 

Geillis rolled her eyes. "Ach, for crying out loud. Just take yer shirt off, dance a bit and arrest someone. I promise I'll tip ye extra. Oh, curly tops Claire is the bride, she is hiding over there." She pointed her finger at her friend, squashed between two other girls with a scared look at her face.  Aah, Sassenach!

"She doesn't look interested," he said. "Maybe getting her a stripper wasn't such a bright idea, huh?"

Geillis glowered at him. "For fuck sake, I'm sorry if ye're suddenly shy and want to retreat, but ye're here now. Just take some clothes off, shimmy yer hips and make the lassies happy. Deal?" He was about to open his mouth to tell her there won't be any clothes taken off, but she clapped her hands. "Alright, ladies, our hot copper is ready. Claire, get yer arse on the chair."

The group screamed and whistled and stamped their feet. Pound notes waved madly in the air. Women danced provocatively to the beat, waiting for him to start stripping.

He turned his attention to Claire and watched her walk to the centre. She weaved her way through screaming women, and instead of sitting on the chair, she positioned herself right in front of him. He wondered if she would see through his disguise since she was the only sober person in the room.

Without the leather jacket, her dress clung to her curves like a second skin, and her front showed far too much cleavage. As enticing as she looked, Jamie was glad the stripper didn't come and that his friends were in the far end of the room. With her long legs clad in knee-high boots, her hair all loose, and pouty lips painted red, his future wife looked sexy as hell. She was all tits, legs and curves.

Ignoring the noise and urging of the crowd, he stared helplessly at her, completely intoxicated, besotted and aroused all at the same time.

Her teeth pulled at her lower lip, and she frowned. "Jamie?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Sssh, the lassies don't know it's me. I was told at the bar the stripper couldn't come, so I took his place. I ken it's a stupid drunken idea..."

A giggle escaped her lips. "Louise hired a cop stripper. I begged Geillis to take my place, but she wouldn't have any of it." Her head tipped up and down to look at him. "I'm glad now she didn't take my place. That uniform looks incredibly hot on you, and I'm afraid you do look like a stripper."

He moved closer. "You think?"

"Yes."

The women roared their frustration, chanting for him to strip.

"What should I do?"

"I can see you brought the stag party with you. Why not give them a show," Claire replied, looking over his shoulder.

Surprised at her bold request, he grinned. "Be careful what you wish for, Sassenach," he warned in a low voice.

Claire took a step forward to nip at his earlobe, her breath rushing in his ear. "So I've been told often enough." Pulling away, she arched an eyebrow and smiled at him. "Well? Are you putting on a show for the bride-to-be? Or are you chickening out?" 

He didn't know if it was the alcohol or her teasing that pushed him. Without warning, he tossed her over his shoulder and deposited her right on the chair, making her squeal.

The women screamed in delight and the men at the back wolf-whistled. The music rolled out its slow rhythm, but he refused to dance. Instead, his fingers paused at the top of his shirt, stroking slow. As the screams of the crowd got louder, he flicked the button open, making Claire's eyes widened in shock, her lips forming an O shape.

He repeated the motion with the second button, and pound notes started flying through the air and chants of "take it off" vibrated the room. He took no notice of the frenzy and focused intently only on her.

He watched her gaze follow the motions of his hand, her cheeks flushing profusely and her mouth opening and closing as if wanting to say something, but no words came out. "Do ye want me to continue, Sassenach?" 

Even with the deafening noise, she heard him clearly. "Yes," she nodded, looking like she was in a trance.

With slow, deliberate motions, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and slowly parted the material.

The crowd went wild. 

The fact Claire's friends didn't recognise him, emboldened him further. He leaned down and braced his hands on both sides of her chair. "They want more," he said. "Do ye want more?"

She stared into his eyes before answering. "Yes."

Reaching over to pull her to her feet, he grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest. "Do it for me then, Sassenach." 

In his periphery, he saw Laoghaire taking photos.  What is she doing here? This was a private party.   Then he realised she thought he was just a hired stripper. 

Refocusing on Claire, he felt her hands stroke his abdomen. Her name was chanted in unison, commanding her to take it all off for him. Her fingers traced the edge of his belt buckle, and then she paused. Their gazes locked. "No." Her voice broke. He caught a glimpse of raw possessiveness in her eyes. "I don't want anyone else to see you."

He muttered a vicious curse. "Good because I've had enough of this. I just want to take ye home."

"What are you waiting for? Take me home then, Jamie."

He quickly refastened the buttons on his shirt as loud boos filled the air. Beyond caring, he gathered Claire in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and when she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, he heard the loud gasps of her friends' shock and whistles from the stag group. And more picture snaps from Laoghaire. 

"Claire!" Geillis shouted in disbelief. She tried to stop Laoghaire from taking more photos, thinking her friend was kissing a stranger. But Claire wasn't listening.

"Home it is then. Hang on tight, Sassenach, we'll make this an exit they'll never forget," he said against her lips. When she nodded, he lifted her up, and she held on burrowing her face against his neck.

"Hey, stop! Ye cannae take the bride. Ye're supposed to strip and not haul her like a caveman."

"Too bad. I'm stealing the bride!" Jamie yelled as he fought his way through a crowd of tipsy and bewildered women.

"Stop him!" someone shouted.

He was about to reach for the door when Jenny jumped and blocked their exit. Her cheeks were red and flushed, and her eyes had a determined look. She waved an empty bottle of wine in the air in a threatening manner. "Listen, ye moron. Ye put my sister-in-law down slowly and carefully, and no one will get hurt," she cautioned, in a slurred voice.

"Jenny!" Claire blurted.

"It's alright Claire bear, I got this," Jenny said, swinging her weapon at Jamie. She took a step forward, stopped and blinked. "Huh? Jamie?"

"Aye, it's me," Jamie hissed impatiently. "Can't ye recognise yer own flesh and blood?"

"What the hell!?! It's that bloody wig and those ridiculous glasses! What are ye doing here?"

"Out of the way, we're going," Jamie muttered. He made a move to go past Jenny, but Laoghaire blocked their path and took another picture of them.

"Wait till Jamie sees what ye've been up to," Laoghaire sneered at Claire, waving her phone in one hand.

Jamie was slowly losing patience. He gently put Claire down and confronted the blond girl. "Aye, I ken fine what Claire's been up to," he snapped, wrenching the aviators and plucking the cap and wig from his head and throwing them on the floor. "And ye shouldn't be here. This is a private party, and I don't think ye're invited. Now leave and do something good in yer life for once." 

He felt Claire tugging his arm, but he waited until an embarrassed and speechless Laoghaire was led out of the room by one of his friends, not trusting her to turn his back. When she was finally gone, the whole place erupted in cheers and whistles.

"Jesus, Jamie, all these crazy girls coming out of the woodwork. Do you think we'll ever make it to our wedding without another girl popping up to tear us apart?" Claire asked in exasperation.

Annoyance surged, but he quickly tamped it down. It wasn't his fault, and neither was it Claire's. If he had his way, they would have been married weeks ago and skipped all the frippery that entailed the wedding. He closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. "I know, Sassenach and I'm so sorry. Sometimes grief is a price we pay for love. In the end, we're both stronger because of it."

"I know. And I'm sorry too. I don't have doubts about us. I just don't like people getting hurt." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. "Shall we go? I would like a continuation of that striptease," she teased, trying to lighten the moment. 

Her suggestion made his stomach clench. "Now we're talking," he said in a low voice, a half-smirk tugging at his lips.

Willie slapped him on the back. "Get a room both of ye! Go now, before the mob forces ye to stay," he joked, pulling a tipsy Geillis to his side.

"Aye, go and sorry ...but not sorry for forcing ye to strip," Geillis winked. "Now that everyone knows that it's you, they're even more disappointed that the show is over."

Rupert joined in, followed by a waiter with a tray of drinks. "I hope the party is not over. I just ordered drinks for everyone."

Jamie jerked his thumb towards the group of girls. "I warmed them up. They're all yers now. Claire and I are going." He touched Claire's belly and grinned. "Ye lot are too rowdy for the baby. See ye when I see ye."

Without a backward glance, he led Claire out of the pub, and they walked home hand in hand. Once in the house, they had a little party of their own.