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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 9.6k words

Genre: (lots of) smut, angst, final fluff

Rating: 18+

Hello cuties! Welcome back! I had assumed I would be done with Hobi’s piece in the studio quite soon, however it took me some extra hours. Writing it was extremely difficult! Let me remind you that this is NSFW, so minors, please do not read or interact.

PSA — If you’re interested, I was thinking of making a taglist, so you’ll receive a note on your activity feed whenever I publish a new piece (since I know sometimes app notifications do not work). Also, in the next two or three weeks I’ll be busy with university, so I don’t think I’ll be able to write full one-shots. This means I’ll be posting small drabbles that will help me lay the groundwork for all the filth I’ve been storing away from you (and that I’ve hinted in the masterlist). The polls will stay open and you’ll be able to vote for next prompt, however it will take me a while before I start writing again according to your requests.

This piece is a one shot and it takes place in some indefinite future in the official timeline, shortly after him and Giggles have moved in together (quick reminder, Giggles is the nickname he has given the reader, however if you want to know how I imagined her, you can find her headcanons here).

Synopsis: Giggles has been a little uncomfortable after she has moved into his apartment, mostly because his job has kept him from going back home. After a week of struggle, she heads to Hoseok’s studio to grab her man with the help of special weapons.

DESCRIPTION AND TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst at the beginning, reader is upset and cries. Other than that, this is filthy. NSFW, contains several BDSM themes, such as domination (Dom!reader, Switch!Hoseok and a fluffy dose of vanilla sex because I needed to cleanse my soul), rope bondage (wrists), blindfold, sensation play and mild impact play (flogger, hinted riding crop and tickler), pretty intense edging, teasing, oral sex and masturbation (both male and female receiving), squirting, MULTIPLE ROUNDS (it’s Hoseok, come on!). Emotionally challenging: Hoseok feels guilty as hell, reader is quite angry, but they’re both lovesick puppies by the end of it. Special warning: one bratty Jimin appears at the end of the piece.

Word count: 9.6k

Here is my masterlist! Enjoy!!!

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A lowfi mix came from behind Hoseok’s door. He was probably just chilling as he worked on something else. It wasn’t uncommon for him to listen to random stuff as he looked for inspiration, especially since he was currently trying to work with a more old school R’n’B vibe. He had a new artist he wanted to collaborate with and this new genre was becoming increasingly challenging, especially since he wanted it to have that early Two-thousand flow, reminding him of that time he had started venturing into Western hip hop, thinking about dates and girls and teenage crushes.

The bag felt a bit heavier on your shoulder now that the music showed you his mindset. This could turn into a very one-of-a-kind type of night.

You knocked at the door. The music turned down a notch, as if he wasn’t quite sure he had heard right.

Hesitantly, shutting your eyes tight, you knocked harder before pressing your hand to your chest, curling around it in fear. Hoseok could be harsh when interrupted: though he usually realised and apologised, seeing him mildly disappointed always gave you a chill down your spine, and not the good one.

His shadow appeared from behind the opaque glass door.

The door unlocked and opened. “Hey, hello there.” His expression was blank for a second before he realised you were quite neutral, as if trying to square yourself before seeing him.

Something caved in your chest. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes. “Hi.”

“Are you coming in?” He asked.

“I only wanted to ask when you’re coming back home.” You said, your lip slightly trembling.

He blinked.

“I’ve texted you and called you, but you didn’t reply.”

He blinked twice. “What time is it?”

You exhaled and made to turn around and walk away.

“Giggles.” He called, chasing after you and catching you in his arms, backhugging you. “Baby.”

“No. I’m done with baby and all of that. I’m fucking done.” Tears started falling. Your plan had gone to hell. All your mental briefings and getting yourself in the right mindset were useless by now. The bag made you feel twice as frustrated. “I am tired, Hoseok.”

That made him feel like a scolded puppy. You had never uses that tone with him, never used his full name while scolding him.

“I am tired.” Now that your first tear was spilled, all the others came out without any control. “I am exhausted.”

He pressed you harder into him. “I promise it will end soon.” He smiled as he saw you turn and hide into him.

“I am tired of your promises. You made me move in and then disappeared for a week straight. I don’t know where I can put my stuff, I had to handle transport, to talk with my landlord, to do everything by myself. And I’ve been doing double shifts all week. I am raw with exhaustion and I’ve had absolutely zero support.” You sobbed, pressing your pointer finger into his chest, before laying your punch against his breastbone, angry and tired and accusing. “You were supposed to be my certainty but you gave me fucking nothing.” He flinched when he heard you swore. You never swear at him. The fact that you’ve done it twice in the same argument spoke volumes about how angry you were. “You were supposed to give me certainties. But you don’t even answer to my texts.” You punched him weakly. “I hate you so much.”

Now he was worried. Heavily worried. Anxious. “Let’s get in the studio, ____. Come on, love.”

“I don’t want to come in.”

He shook his head, tipping your chin back. “I said, come in.”

“You don’t get to order me around, Hoseok. Not like this. I’ve been doing everything you’ve asked me. I’ve been saying ‘yes, sir’ to every single one of your requests and look where that brought me.” You shoved your face away, out of his grasp.

He cupped your face with both hands. “Look at me.” He ordered. He tried again, softening his voice, panicking as you strongly opposed. “Look at me, little bird.”

You obeyed. It was the fucking nickname’s fault.

“Come in with me. I want to talk about this, make up for my mistakes.” He dried your tears with his thumbs. “I want you to tell me how to fix this. What you want me to do.” He combed your hair back with gentle fingers. “You say I keep ordering you around, and that has made you unhappy. I want to turn the tables. Let you order me what to do.” He started taking tiny steps backwards, toward his door, waddling with you in your arms. “This is the last time I beg you to do what I’ve asked you, for tonight. After this you’re absolutely free, Giggles. It’s all up to you, but please, let’s talk it out in my studio.”

You sniffled. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly.

You followed him.

The studio was clad in soft lights, the bass of the song making the air in the room feel like a warm, inviting, sultry cocoon. He moved to the desk, making the music nothing but a quiet whisper. “Let’s sit on the sofa over there, yeah?” He sat down and patted the cushion beside him.

Reluctantly, you sat down, removing your jacket and placing the bag beside you, on the floor.

“I made a mistake. I didn’t support you. I am sorry. I’ve been busy with my job but that is not an excuse, nor a good reason to disappear while you’re struggling.” He admitted.

“I’ve been sleeping in that bed alone for a week. It was heartbreaking.” You said with a furrowed brow and a pout. “It hurt so much that sadness became anger.”

He combed his hair with his hands. “I fucked up.”

“You did.” You confirmed. “I can handle a bit of loneliness. I’ve been alone for a long time. But that hurts inside your house.”

“It’s our house now.” He argued, deeply unhappy.

“Is it now?” You accused.

You saw his expression turn hurtful. “Are you going to leave?” He said, afraid that that would be his punishment. He knew there would be a price to pay, he just hoped it wouldn’t cost him his whole happiness with you.

“I can’t handle it now. Plus I don’t have much choice. It’s either there or my parents but I can’t move out of the city and do double shifts at work.” You said. “I’m stuck here because I trusted you. Because I gave up all my alternatives for you. You told me to trust you, that I could count on you. What am I going to do now?”

You looked so broken. He felt his eyes well with tears. His voice came out shaky. “Tell me what to do. Anything.”

“You’re gonna do what you want anyways.” You said, a bit hostile.

“No. Please, can you tell me what to do?” He tried to hold your hand. You let him.

“I want you home tonight.” You said, naming your price.

“Okay.” He felt ready to do anything. If you asked him to fly all the way to Paris and bring a box of macarons, champagne and fresh red roses, he would simply whip his phone out and look for the next flight. Fuck, he would teach himself how to fly a plane if need be.

“I want you home every night for the next week. I want dinner together.” You said, punching your index finger into your thigh. “You can use your home studio after dinner, I don’t care, you can stay up all night, but I swear if I have to fall asleep one more night alone in that damn bed, I’m going to gut you.”

“Okay.” He hadn’t come back home because he knew that having you around would mean getting no work done, as he much preferred giving you attention and laying down with you, watching a movie or putting to good use that big bed of his.

“And I want cuddles.”

“Yes, love.”

“Daily cuddles.”

He smiled as you contested like a child. “Yes, little bird.”

“And I want sex at least once a week for the next month.” You said, knowing that you could have much better than that, but you were aiming at the bare minimum.

“Once a week?” He asked, a bit dumbfounded.

“At least.”

That had him nodding. “Can do.”

“Pinkie promise.”

He smiled wider, hooking his pinkie with yours. “Pinkie promise.” As you pressed your thumbs together, sealing the deal, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “What now? Can I hug you?”

“No. Go lock the door.” He looked at you dubious.

“Lock it.” You repeated.

He stood up and obeyed. “Now what?”

The negotiation had set you back into your original path. You had come for revenge and you were ready to execute it. “On your chair.” He was going to see how it feels to be powerless. Lost. Alone.

His heartbeat started increasing. He wanted to see where your plan was going to take him. He sat on his chair. “Here.”

“Close your eyes.” Your voice shook a little. You cleared it and said again: “Close your eyes, now.”

He bit his lip. He was getting turned on. A part of himself asked him how sick he must be for this, but he followed your lead, closing his eyes and laying his hands on the armrests. “Are you going to punish me?”

You shook your head before realising that he couldn’t see your movements. “I am going to do as I please.”

He snickered.

“Quiet.” You warned quietly.

He licked his lips and regained his composure. “Sorry.”

You bent and opened the bag. You found your first bundle and started unraveling it, walking back and forth in front of the sofa, stopping with your back to him.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Really?” He asked, incredulous.

“Do I look like I am joking?” You replied from over your shoulder.

“Okay.” He undressed quickly, letting his clothes fall to the floor. “Do you want me to...”

“Quiet.” You repeated.

He closed his eyes and bent his head down. He was naked on the chair, unsurprised by his own erection.

You took a few steps towards him. As soon as you reached him, you gave him further instructions. “Do not open your eyes. I am going to touch you but if you open your eyes, you won’t like the consequences.”

“Wait.” Hoseok murmured. “How are you feeling now?”

You stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Are you angry at me?” Hoseok asked, his voice meek, hesitant, unhappy. “I’ve never seen you like this. I’m worried.”

You couldn’t do this to him. You couldn’t tie him up and torture him to tears, break him like that. Even though you really wanted to.

“I’m angry a bit, yes.” You replied. You exhaled, waiting in silence.

“I don’t think we should be doing this, then.” He suggested quietly. “I’ll be honest. You’re scaring me a little.”

You placed the rope on top of the desk, out of his angle of vision. “Open your eyes”, you said, placing your hands on his cheeks. His stare met yours. “What if I tell you my plans and you tell me if you’re okay with it?”

He pressed his face against your belly, kissing it. “I’m so sorry.” He nuzzled into your shirt. “I feel so bad.”

You moved your hands from his cheeks to his hair. “This is how I’m helping you with your guilt.” You massaged his shoulders. “I want to take care of you. You must have been so stressed here.”

“I’m the one at fault. I should be the one taking care of you.” He said with big puppy eyes. He looked up at you with his chin propped against your stomach.

“You can take care of me by letting me take the lead. Right now I need to feel like I can control something.” You traced his lips with your thumb, your index finger tracing the ridge of his nose with its lovely curve.

“Then control me.” He said, puckering his lips around your thumb.

“Are you still scared of me?” You asked.

“I’m scared of you going too far or pushing myself too far to please you.” He confessed. “But it’s something unconscious. I know I can trust you.”

“Still, I could tell you my plans.” You suggested sweetly.

“I trust you.”

“You don’t have to do stuff you don’t feel like doing just to please me.” You reminded him politely.

“That’s why we have safewords. When I don’t feel good I’ll use them.” He said, matter-of-factly. “They’re not there only for you.” He smiled.

You were quite curious about how his nakedness seemed to unfaze him. But then again, after more than a year together, at this point nakedness in front of each other felt natural.

“Don’t push yourself just to please me.” You scolded him.

“I won’t. If I don’t feel good, we stop and I’ll make love to you.” He stated plainly.

You thought about it. After all this time you knew Hoseok’s limits and insecurities. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He settled back into his chair, his hands gripping the armrests. He closed his eyes. “I’m ready.”

His chest was so skinny. It felt like staring at a hummingbird. “Are you keeping your eyes closed or would you like a blindfold?”

He smiled. “Kinky.” He breathed out. He paused. “Blindfold.”

You smirked and grabbed it from your backpocket. You already knew he would have chosen to wear it. “I will touch you now Hoseok. Let’s see if you can recognise it.” You stretched towards the rope on his table, keeping it rolled up and brushing it gently against his face.

“Oh.” He rubbed his cheek against it, pressing his lips and then parting them to use his tongue. “I’m getting tied up, aren’t I?” He asked.

“Would you like to?” You asked. Blindfolded and tied up was always a daring combination. You had first done it for his birthday, but back then you hadn’t intended to overstimulate him to tears. That time you had simply used your advantage to give him the ride of his life, physically restraining him from taking control and straining himself to please you. The bondage technique had helped you keep him still long enough to relax. After almost literally sucking him dry, you had managed to ride him, watch him come apart for the fourth time and see him fall asleep like a kid at your side, not a care in the world. It had been a wildly satisfying experience.

“Are you going to use me like last time?” He asked, eyes still closed but his hands reaching out for you.

“Not really.” You commented. “I was thinking of something… softer? So to say.” You bit your lip. He couldn’t see your devious smile anyway.

“I’m interested.” He said, blindly running his hands down your thighs. “Tell me what to do.”

Clutching the rope between your thighs, you used one hand to comb his hair and trace the lovely lines of his face. “I’ll put the blindfold on you now, Hoseok. Is that okay, handsome?”

“Yes.” He said, his cheeks twitching with a small smile.

Putting a blindfold on someone else is a lot more difficult than it seems, however you managed to press the wide silken mask against his eyes, hooking the elastic band with your fingers and slipping it behind his head. “Is it safe?”

“Yes, Giggles.” He replied, turning his head in an attempt to kiss your wrist. You noticed the gesture and offered him your hand, brushing the back of it against his cheek. He managed to press his lips to your knuckles. “I love you.”

You bent down and let your lips hover over his. “Can you feel me?”

“So close.” He whispered. Sometimes he had this sixth sense, like his body — so used to perceive himself in time and space while dancing — had this special sensibility to closeness. Depriving him of sight made it look even more supernatural. It made you feel like he could perceive you spiritually. It felt religious. Metaphysical. You had missed this connection and you had been craving it for a while.

“Can you kiss me, Hoseok?”

He licked your lips in reply, his mouth hanging open, his lower lip brushing against yours so sensually that you envelopped it in yours, sucking.

He moaned, your eyes closing as you felt your body reach another level of arousal. It felt extraordinary. It felt like you were making love to your own body through his nakedness and arousal. Feeling this wanted, exploiting this bond between the two of you, the way your body mirrored his sensations, it was stronger than anything you had ever experienced.

You let go of his lip. “I’m gonna start tying you up now. This is the right moment to stop me, bub.”

“Keep going.” He said, his voice slightly gravelly.

“Okay.” You moved around the chair, studying how to use your prop smartly.

You noticed two thin metal tubes connecting the headrest to the back of the chair. Interesting. You unravelled your bundle of rope and found the middle quickly thanks to the mark placed there.

You remembered Hoseok coming back home with a big box, placing it on top of the coffee table as you were chilling on the sofa. “I want it cut, marked and hemmed by nine o’ clock.” He had said, voice dark, as he offered you a sewing kit and a fabric meter. “You’ll find instructions in the box.” He kissed your head as you sat on the floor and opened the box, dumbfounded. “I can’t use it tonight, but I’ll reward you if you do a good job.” Inside there was one entire spool of rope: the tag read “a hundred meters - pure cotton”. You spent the rest of the evening attending to your chore. Once you were done, you went knocking at Hoseok’s door. He spent the rest of the night repaying you for your fine accomplishment.

“Can you place your hands on your nape” You asked, noticing that he did so immediately.

“Thank you.” You chirped as you started tying him up, placing two fingers between his skin and the rope to make sure you didn't tighten too much. The position was delicate since his blood circulation could be affected by his forearms being upside down, tying the knot too tight would inevitably mean worsening the situation.

Once his wrists were safely secured to the small steel tube, you checked on him. “Is it good, bubs? Too tight?”

“I'm good, thank you, Giggles.” He replied.

“I’m going to grab my bag quickly. I’ll be a few steps away for a couple seconds, bubs.” You said, making sure that he didn’t panic as you stepped away.

A sultry, suggestive song came on, a slow Nineties hip hop track. It was inspirational, especially as you picked up your bag and placed it on top of his desk, near you and his chair, making sure that you wouldn’t need to leave him alone for longer than a couple seconds. Any person with a sliver of common sense would understand it is an awfully bad idea to leave someone bound, blindfolded and unguarded.

You stood in front of him with your hands behind your back and bent to his ear. “I’m here.” You murmured before standing up and dragging your nails down his neck and chest, stopping right at his stomach without neglecting his nipples, circling around them a couple times. He looked delicious, his cock hard and leaking on his lower abs. You observed the twitching of his slim shaft, the lovely curve of it, the taunting pink of his tip glimmering with wetness.

Teasingly, biting your lip, you gathered some of his precum on your fingertip, his lips parting with a purring sound.

“Giggles, please.” He whined.

You smiled as he exhaled, his mouth hanging open, and you deviously slipped your fingertip past his lips.

“Can you taste how turned on you are, Hobi?” You murmured, pressing your digit against his tongue.

He bit down playfully before twirling the tip of his tongue around your finger.

Giggling, you removed it.

“Does it tickle?” He asked.

You licked your lip. “Maybe.”

He shook his head just as you punished his disrespect with a gentle slap on his cheek. “You’re in no position to play games, Hoseok.”

He regained his composure. “Sorry.”

You shook your head yourself, standing up and moving behind him. His sides were vulnerable with his hands tied up and behind his head. You started thinking how you could use this against him. For now you simply decided that his inner forearms were normally sensitive enough to be a good starting point. He always started from your inner forearms. Drawing lines and twirls with your nails, you saw him shiver, his mouth gaping.

“You’ve moved.” He murmured, his fingers wiggling as he searched for contact, giving up once he noticed there was no chance. Daring and playful, you tickled his palms, moving so quickly that he didn’t manage to grab you.

His inner upper arm was even more sensitive, however touching it would mean that he would probably be able to touch you back. You could use something to reach out. You stood back, circling around the chair. It was a lot more complicated now. You had thought that seeing him like this would immediately tell you what you wanted to do to him. You had packed a variety of supplies in case sudden inspiration struck you, but now your lack of planning and your excess of toys confused you even more.

You had him naked and tied up to a quite limiting armchair. You knew your goal was to stimulate him as much as possible, listen to his pretty whines and watch him grow more and more desperate. Get him turned on out of his mind. Surprise him.

Kneeling, you patted his knees with your palms. “Open up.”

He inched his hips forward, his torso slouching against the back of the chair, his thighs parting further. “More?” He asked.

“Perfect.” You said, kissing his knees.

“Oh, you’re gonna do it like the other time?” He asked, bucking his hips up and slouching further. “You wanna blow me?”

You smiled, sending a cold breath running up his inner thigh.

His moan followed like a tide, like sunlight chasing the horizon at sunset.

You mirrored the gesture on the other leg, satisfied with the effect you had just elicited. “Do you want me to?” You asked, referring to his proposition.

“Your choice, Giggles.” He murmured, his reply melting into a ‘fuck, yeah’ as you licked up his thigh.

He could imagine your bubblegum pink tongue against the pale skin of his inner leg, your eyelids fluttering closed as you brought your tongue closer to his cock.

He had the softest baby hair on his inner leg. You wondered how it could be so thin and soft. Once you reached his crotch, you parted your mouth from his skin, your hot breath fanning on the sensitive head of his cock. Making sure that your hair was out of the way, you kissed the skin of his abdomen following the shadow that his sex projected on his belly. The point was that of being that close but not touching him.

It turned a bit more difficult when his hips jerked in an attempt to connect his cock with your lips while you sucked a love bite right on top of where his tip was laying. You moved back. “Stay still, Hoseok. Don’t make me tie up your legs too.” You warned. He huffed out a strained breath and shivered as you continued your trip down the other side with small kisses, finally licking down the other thigh, sitting back on your heels and placing a sweet peck on his knee. Now that his whole crotch area, thighs and abs were wet, blowing cold air all over him was even more fun, your lips directing your breath on different parts, making him try to escape your evil attentions.

“Giggles, you’re so bad.” He mewled, a tiny, desperate laugh underlining his sentence.

Your hands reached the base of his feet, your nails dragging against the natural crease at the center of his foot.

“It tickles.” He said, his legs jumping up as he tried to escape that sensorial torture.

“No touching you there?” You asked, eyebrows curving upwards in wonder. “Okay.”

He planted his feet firmly on the base of his office chair. “Please.” He said.

“It’s okay, Hobi.” You replied sweetly. His dancer feet were too sensitive for that and you’d rather avoid him moving too much and possibly falling from the chair. “How are you feeling?” You asked, standing up. You were at a crossroad. From his answer depended the rest of the evening.

“I’m doing great. This feels incredible, Giggles.” He smiled, complimenting you.

“Are you down for a level up?” You asked.

He nodded. “I’m curious.”

“Choose a number from one to three.” You asked him, your voice bubbly.

“What is it?” He asked. He was afraid of the consequences. Was it going to be the number of times he was allowed to cum? Or maybe something else?

��Just a game, Hobi. Choose a number.” You repeated.

A bit hesitant he said: “Two.” He said. Like us, he thought. He kept the idea to himself, thinking it cheesy. Plus two was halfway. Nothing bad can happen if you stay halfway, right?

You raised your eyebrows and considered cheating. He would never know. You had really prepared three toys and numbered them, however, out of the three objects you had prepared, number two was the one that scared you the most, convincing yourself to pack it just in case he flipped and took the lead. Hoseok could be extremely powerful with that tool in hand and it was probably your favourite accessory for him to use on you.

Unfortunately — or maybe very fortunately — it was you who had to control it tonight.

With quite some courage, you pushed your hand into the bag, finding the handle and gripping it tight as you extracted the black leather device from the bag. The tails of the flogger met your skin gently, caressing it with their delicate, velvety touch. Each tail was made of suede, giving a special feel to the touch. He had never openly admitted how expensive it was, but you knew it was a lot.

As your dominant hand held the handle, the other toyed with the tails, gripping them and wrapping them around your fist; looking at Hoseok, you started thinking where to start.

Easy.

His inner arms were there, pale, slender and so sensitive. “Can you feel me?” You asked, bending down, your breath tickling the free skin of his wrists.

“Yes.” He commented. “Behind my back. You’re so close but I can’t reach you.” He whined, struggling a little against the rope.

“Are your hands okay? Is the knot too tight?” You checked.

He breathed out. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.” He stilled on the chair since he realised he couldn’t touch you.

“My pleasure, Hoseok.” You replied, spurring him on a little. “Would you like me to tell you what’s the number you chose?”

He thought about it, but he realised that most of the arousal he was experiencing was because of the complete unexpectedness of each sensation. “Surprise me.”

You smiled, running the butt of the handle against his upper arm, teasing the top of his armpit. He shivered adorably, the sensation making his arm tingle with goosebumps.

“How does it feel?” You asked, curious.

“Wicked. But also interesting.” He replied, shivering again as you repeated the gesture on the other side. “Very sensitive.”

“Can you guess what it is?” You asked, gripping the flogger from where the tails met the handle, leaving the underside of the shaft free to press against his lips. He sniffed it. “Leather.” He sniffed some more. “Your hand lotion. Is it the handle of something?” He asked, dragging his cheek against it.

In the meanwhile you made sure that the tails were wrapped tight around your fist so that they wouldn’t give you away. “Maybe.” You replied, removing the object from his face and unwrapping the suede straps from your other palm, keeping the toy away from him. You trapped all the tails back, leaving only one out. That’s how to start.

Hoseok, momentarily blinded, kept thinking of what the object could possibly be. “Is the number connected to what you’re using now?”

“Yes. Each number meant a toy. I’m using number two right now.” You said, letting that single string drag from the small hollow between his collarbones down to his belly button. Your small hand struggled around the instrument, however your nerves helped you keep a tight grip.

“You have more than one?” He asked, moaning as the tail tickled the base of his cock. “What the hell is it?” He said, thrusting his hips upward. “Fuck, please.” He murmured, as you teased his balls. You grinned. “It’s the riding crop, uh? You love that one.” He murmured, just as you moved your hand far from his body, letting the tails fall free before snapping your wrist, making the strings swish.

Hoseok listened to the noise attentively, however the background music kept him from properly identifying the sound. “Is it something we have used before?”

You hit your palm again, softly, knowing that the hip hop track was going to make the toy unrecognisable. As you stood in front of his face, you leaned down and snapped it once more, making sure that he would feel the air move as the tails slapped your hand. Doing it this delicately made it feel almost pleasurable against your skin.

“Yes, we’ve used it before.”

You stood up again, letting the tails hang low. Noticing his length dripping in wetness, you snapped the toy once more against your palm, still far from his skin, simply producing an air current.

“Dammit, please, I just wanna cum.” He cried out.

“Guess my toy and I’ll reward you.” You teased.

He whimpered. “Come on, we’ve tried at least twenty together.” He lamented. “And you’ve given me so little.”

“Then let me give you more.” You giggled, This time you took a deep breath. Courage. You wanted him to hear it for real, not the caressing sweeps, but the harsh, punishing ones he usually delivered. Maybe those would sound more familiar. Exhaling, you hit your clothed thigh. You moaned: it could feel so sweet in your own hand, when you could control it and with the barrier of your jeans.

“It’s leather, I’m sure.” He commented.

You snapped once more, your cunt clenching, wetness making you feel uncomfortable between your thighs as you noticed him flinch at the sound. “Are you sure it’s leather, Hoseok?”

When he heard the third smack, he went insane. It felt unreal to be there, to wait for a hit that wouldn’t come, or even worse to be deep in thought, so close to the answer, but to be brought back to reality with the swishing and clicking sound of whatever it was you were holding. “If you say it like that, I’m not sure.”

Grinning, you let the tails hover over his skin, tickling the air around them, charging his skin with goosebumps. He felt electric. “Is this helping you?” You asked, letting the suede skim his skin.

“Oh. So you’re using my weapons against me...” He wondered just as your free hand cupped his balls, squeezing them gently. He was being too cocky anyway. His following moan decisively toned down his arrogance.

“Sorry.” He whined. “Please.” He moaned while your hand pushed the flogger away, your torso bending forward as you stretched to lick the tip of his cock, collecting the hot droplet of cum he had just spilled. “____, I’m begging, please.”

“Please what?” You murmured against his abdomen.

As he began talking you sucked the smooth head of his dick into your mouth, listening to him stammering and moaning in an attempt to speak. With a sweet stutter he cried out. “Wanna cum. Please.”

You released his sex. “You know the rules. Guess the toy and I’ll let you cum. Don’t make me say it again.” You stood straight and moved the flogger back between his legs, the tails teasing his inner thighs. “How come you haven’t recognised it yet?” You teased.

“It’s a tickler.” He moaned. “The one with the feathers.” He huffed out, just as you caught once more the tails in your palm, wrapping them around your hand and moving your grip, freeing the butt of the handle.

“No, love. I’m sorry.” You said, feigning discontent, but secretly grinning.

He cried out. “Oh, come on, what is it!” He growled, his voice sliding into a whimper as you sucked one of his balls into your mouth.

“Fuck it, Giggles. Please.”

He had said ‘please’ at least four times tonight, that you remembered. Maybe even more. You sucked harder.

“Love your mouth, baby,” he rambled, his sanity long forgotten in the unpredictable events of the evening. He felt his guts tightening, his abs clenching. “So good. Shit.”

As you spotted the telltale pulsing in your mouth, you let go of him.

“No, please. Please.” He begged. It was your favourite word on your lips. When he begged. When he begged to lick you, to let him make you squirt, to slap your delicate breasts, to fuck your mouth, to change position ‘just one more time’, to let him ram into you for the third, fourth ride even if you were tired and overstimulated, your brains only capable of telling him yes because you were too fucked out, too greedy, too in love with him to ever deny him.

“You made a dumb guess, Hobi. How can a tickler make that sound? You heard the smack, before, didn’t you.” You pressed the butt of the toy against his shaft, delicately, dragging it up and down in a very upsetting imitation of a handjob.

He keened as several drops of cum bubbled up from his slit and dribbled down his cock.

“You’re so turned on, uh?” You snickered, teasing him ruthlessly. “You’re barely coherent.”

He couldn’t wrap his head around how his sweet, sparkly, submissive Giggles, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his precious jewel could turn into such a sadistic, cruel creature.

He had probably ruined you.

He was almost glad. Proud of you.

“Giggles, love. Please, have mercy, baby. You can’t hurt me. You love me.” He murmured, trying to convince himself.

You let him breathe, moving the handle away from his sensitive sex.

“I love you. That’s why I need you to recognise the toy.” You cooed. “You’ve heard how it sounds, and felt how it feels. You can do it, bubs.” You bent to his mouth, letting your lips linger over his.

“It swishes and smashes, but it’s a dry, light smash. Not a paddle. Not a tickler, and not a riding crop either. It’s either a cat-o-nine-tales or a flogger.” He murmured.

“Good boy.” You praised him. “What is it, then Hoseok?”

He felt insane. The moment he realised it was one of the two, he started imagining you holding one, getting even more turned on at the thought. “Use it on me.” He asked. “Please.” He could almost see you, your small figure, your tiny hands wrapped around the thick leather base, the cute flinch on your face as you whipped the tails against your thigh. “Use it on me.” He wished he could see you for real. He just needed you to do it once, to be comfortable to eventually do it again, someday — possibly within the next month — to see you actually use the flogger on him. He felt like going insane.

You frowned. You weren’t skilled enough for using it like that.

Whipping yourself over your clothes was one thing, but hitting him? Naked? Tied up? No. You told him.

“I can’t, Hoseok.”

“Please.” He cried out. “I trust you.” He said, quietly reassuring you. “Place me so that the front of my thigh is free, and direct the blow across my thigh, towards the outer side.”

You breathed a couple times. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He cried out in relief.

Following his directions, you placed him correctly on the chair, his thigh hanging midair. With your back to him, you murmured quietly “Ready?”

He simply breathed out a ‘yes’.

His cry was immediate. “Oh god, Giggles. Fuck.” You had been heavy handed, still he hadn’t perceived the bite of the small silver balls that his cat-o-nine-tales sported. “Flogger.” He moaned. “Wanna cum, please.”

You immediately dropped the flogger on top of his table. “That’s right, bubs. You’ve been a very good boy.”

He pushed his hips upward. “Your mouth, please.” He begged. “Inside.” He sobbed.

You undressed quickly, your shirt coming off in a second and your jeans following right after. With only your panties on, you kneeled on the floor, not quite making yourself noticed.

“Where are you?” He cried out. “Giggles?”

“Here.” You called. “Between your legs.” You kissed his knee. “You look beautiful, Hoseok. So damn beautiful.” Your mouth climbed up towards his lap, quick and practical, your tongue drawing a line of saliva up his thigh. “I’ll give you thirty seconds. If you don’t cum at that, I’ll stand up, take off your blindfold and touch myself while your hands are tied. Got it?”

He whimpered.

“Got it?” You asked again.

“Yes, Giggles.” He replied, as composedly as possible.

“Good.” You said, before swallowing him.

He groaned, pushing his hips up towards your face. His chair rolled back a bit, but thankfully you grabbed the armrests and managed to secure it.

With wicked intentions you pulled him out, rolling the chair away so that the back sticked to the edge of his desk, keeping it from moving. “Count to thirty for me, Hoseok.”

You didn’t give him time to reply, sinking back onto him.

“One,” he whimpered as you used your hands to stroke the parts you couldn’t take into your mouth.

“Oh, two.” He groaned, pushing some more. You pinched his thigh, reprimanding him for his thrust.

He jumped at that before he cried out a three, panting heavily. “I’m gonna cum.”

Again you pinched.

“Three.” He said with a shrill.

By the count of nine, his hips got impatient, thrusting into you some more, but — lucky him — you felt merciful and disregarded his disobedience as you started to bob your head, before hearing him breathe louder and faster. “That’s it. Giggles, fuck. Love it. So good. Love you.” He managed to babble before he came apart.

You simply stayed there, eyes rimmed with tears, holding your breath as his cum kept spilling inside you. It took him five or six shots before he stilled, empty and spent. Oxygen felt like a blessing once you pulled him out, his tip resting on your tongue. Both your and his breathing were heavy and rushed as you removed your head from his lap and tested it against his thigh.

“Wanna see you, Giggles.” He murmured, his voice hoarse after all the moaning and growling and panting. “Take off the blindfold, baby.” He asked, ready to take control. You were the one who needed attention right now.

“Just a minute.” You murmured, nuzzling your cheek against his leg and closing your eyes.

“Now, Giggles.” He ordered with some urgency.

With a deep sigh, you stood on your knees, stretching towards his face to take off the silk band from his eyes. It took a couple attempts because you couldn't reach perfectly, however you finally managed to uncover him, his eyes immediately focusing on you.

“Hello, little bird.” He said, his tone already sporting that sardonic, telltale undertone. He was going for revenge.

A fearful wave rolled down your spine.

“Hi, Hoseok.” You replied, a bit hazed.

“Can you untie me, little bird? Please?” He asked, but his plea didn't hold the previous submission. This was simply a polite request. “I know you’re tired, pretty thing. Just untie me, I’ll take care of you, I promise, angel.” He said, spotting the way you looked at him like a scared wild animal. “I can’t even cuddle you right now.” He wiggled his wrists. “It hurts like hell to see you this vulnerable and not being allowed to cuddle you, little bird.” His voice expressed affection now, his mood completely changed after he had seen you: the discomfort of your treatment was still fresh but he couldn’t bring himself to torture you back after seeing you curled up between his legs.

You kissed his thigh a little helplessly before whining as you stood up.

“That’s my good girl.” He praised you with a quiet voice.

Undoing the knot was extremely easy. You liked using knots that were simple to undo once you released the safety hook — a reasonable amount of rope strategically tucked into the knot that once tugged simply makes the rope fall to the ground. Hoseok was usually reasonable enough not to untie himself, which meant you could still untie him easily even when your body was tired and your mind felt fuzzy.

When the rope fell to the ground, Hoseok stood still, holding position. Once he jammed a knot because he moved too early and you sulked at him for a week because he made you cut the rope into three unusable lengths. “May I?” He asked.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

He immediately turned the chair so that he was facing you. His arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tight as you stood between his legs.

“You’ve been so good, Giggles. You’ve been perfect, little bird.” He pulled you into him, making you sit on his lap. “How are you feeling, dove?”

“A bit unsettled.” You admitted. “Strange.”

“What got into you?” He asked, smiling as he stroked your cheek. “You were devilish, pretty thing.”

“I don’t know. I think I was inspired.” You admitted, sinking into his neck, nuzzling into the curve below his ear.

“How did you feel with the flogger?” He asked, caressing your spine gently. He felt soft for you. To hell with revenge, he’d much rather make love to you. Show you all his appreciation for the scene you had staged, your spirit of initiative and the courage you had displayed in taking the lead with the flogger.

“I liked it. It felt new and strange.” You admitted, your arms connecting behind his neck, your hand combing the hair at his nape. “It felt different from when you do it.”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

“It’s not just the role reversal. I felt more confident because I called the shots. I manoeuvred it, so it didn’t feel like I was waiting for it to hurt. The excitement was different.” You kissed his jaw.

Hoseok turned, using his bangs to tickle your cheek. You giggled meekly. “It’s all about having the power to do the unexpected. See how far the other person allows you to go.” He kissed your neck. “I like using it on you because you’re always so soft afterwards. You’re super needy and cuddly and I like assisting you like that.” His hand moved to your side, caressing you reassuringly before his hand ventured under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your ass. “And seeing how far you let me go with the scene makes me see how much you trust me and love me. It’s hot but also cute and affectionate.” He pulled his hand out, dragging it up, skimming your side and cupping your breast, his skilled fingers toying with your nipple. “Do you want me to take care of you?” He asked, his index finger hooking under your chin and pushing your face up, to look at him.

You looked up at him from under your lashes, pouting and giving him the best impression of puppy eyes.

He smiled at you. “What?” He said, with a small chuckle, booping your nose.

“I want your mouth.” You said, biting your lip.

“Where.” He asked, rubbing your tummy, his fingertips toying with the waistband of your panties.

You looked down at your crotch, licking your lip and rolling your eyes coquettishly. “Down there, sir?”

He laughed and bent to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “Want me to eat you out, little bird?” He snarled and bit your round, fluffy cheek. “Eat you alive?” He asked, holding you tight as he repeatedly sunk his teeth on the fat covering your cheekbone. “Such a naughty girl!” He said, tickling your sides.

Your laugh bubbled up your throat, exploding in a fit of giggles.

“That’s it. The most beautiful sound on the face of earth.” He calmed down once he noticed your short breath. “I love you, ____.” He reminded you.

You smiled so wide your eyes closed. “I love you too.” You stretched your neck to reach his mouth. His lips parted for you, the tip of his tongue drawing the seam of your lips as you disclosed them for him. The kiss was demanding, as usual. The hard, teasing strokes he delivered with the tip of his tongue gave way to a tango of thrusts and twirls, a mind blowing game of flight and chase, small clashing of teeth and sucking bruises onto each other’s lips. You didn’t even know how much time had passed before he gripped your waist, pushing you up. “Stand, little bird.” He murmured softly.

Carefully, you rose to your feet, making sure that your knees didn’t give out below you. His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties. He immediately spotted the wet patch on your grey cotton. “Cute penguin print.” He commented. “Very cute.” He said, his finger moving to toy with the drenched fabric, exposing you. He slid down the chair, kneeling. You took half a step back, only to meet the hard edge of his desk. He had cornered you. You only managed to press your palms into the desk, making sure not to knock anything over or accidentally ruin any equipment.

“Right leg on my shoulder, little dove.” He ordered, his eyes zeroing in on you with a predatory gleam.

You obeyed. Not that you had much choice.

“You’re so wet, Giggles. You enjoyed torturing me this much?” He asked, licking the gusset of your panties. “So nasty.”

“You sounded so good.” You commented, one hand combing his hair back and subtly pushing his mouth against you. “And you tasted even better.”

“These are too cute to rip.” He said, looking at your panties. “I need them off, dove.”

He helped your leg down, immediately dragging the garment down your legs. “Fuck, you’re so drenched.” He growled, noticing the tendrils of arousal sticking your labia together as he placed your leg back on his shoulder. His right arm, free to move, immediately bent so that his hand could spread your wetness all along your slit, before his index and middle finger sank into you, immediately meeting your sweet spot.

“Oh God! Hoseok, please!” One of your hands parted from the table, grabbing his hair.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion. You knew what he wanted to do.

“I’m gonna make a mess, Hobi.” You warned him before a wanton mewl left your lips, betraying you.

“So, do you like it?” He asked again, rubbing his fingers and stretching you out.

“Yes, sir.” You moaned, trying to meet his mouth with your hips. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“You’re about to like it even more, little bird. Hold on tight.” He warned before latching his mouth onto your clit and beginning to torture it with the hard flicks of his tongue. His eyes met yours and you knew he was really going for it. He had that look that meant challenge. You abandoned yourself to your fate.

“Hoseok. Dammit.” You hoped your leg would hold you up because both your hands rushed to his head, pressing it against your cunt. The arm holding your leg moved upwards, sustaining your lower back.

The shift was immediate, the inner sense of burning and the distinct sensations of your inner walls clenching out of your control warning you of what was about to happen. “Hoseok.” You called simply as that overwhelming tide took you under. Your eyes clenched tight, your lower leg quivering dangerously as your orgasm invested him. You knew you had likely squirted over him, especially for the wetness running down your leg. You just hoped there wasn’t a small pool of liquid on his floor.

“That’s it, Giggles. Fucking phenomenal.” He praised you as you gently pulled his mouth away from your clit. He kissed your mound chastely before helping your leg down.

“Did I mess up?” You asked, immediately checking for damage.

“Nothing that a few tissues can’t fix.” He said, standing in front of you, stretching behind you to grab a roll of paper, tearing some and kneeling again, drying up the small puddle. Next he dried your inner thigh. “Are you freaking out?” He asked, knowing that squirting always unsettled you a little.

“The normal amount.” You replied, combing his hair as he looked up at you, collecting all the paper towels and throwing them in the bin.

As he stood again, you felt his hard on against your tummy. “Can you do it standing or do you wanna sit?” He asked, hugging you.

“Your choice. I can handle it.” You replied, still a bit hazy with your previous orgasm.

“Turn.” He murmured, spinning you around with his hands on your waist, your hand moving to press his palm against the small of your back, bending you forward a little. “Like this?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You replied.

He bent to your ear. “No need to call me ‘sir’, dove. I’m making love to you.” He said, gently dragging the head of his cock against your folds before slipping in. Once he was halfway in, your mouth open in a silent cry, he pulled out, only to move back in all the way with one smooth stroke.

“Hobi, sweet lord.” You purred, leaning on your elbows, as he started pounding into you. He simply grabbed you under your armpits, pressing his palms against your breasts and pushing you back up, making the angle so right and so intense you thought you would explode again there and then.

However, after a few minutes he simply growled and exited you, pushing you up and turning you around, again. Facing him, you could now see the dark lines forming on his thigh from the flogger, and right on top of that the slim indentation of his abdomen, adorned by his glistening, wet, hard cock.

He let you drink him in with your hungry eyes before tipping your chin up, to make your gazes connect. With his eyes on yours, scorching and demanding, he slipped back inside you, enjoying how your eyelids fluttered at the sense of fullness you were experimenting. The hammering restarted immediately, your hand gripping his shoulders, your nails sinking in. In reply, his strong, veiny palm curled around your outer thigh, pushing your leg up and around his waist.

“Touch yourself. I need you to cum.” He said, making small effort into ordering you, keeping his focus on his ramming.

And you made an even smaller effort into obeying, the hard, filling sensation of him inside you was so satisfying that a few circles on your clit was all it took for your head to crash into his shoulder, suppressing a loud moan by biting into his neck. Still, the bite, the vibrations of your whimpers against his throat, your nails sinking into him and your kegels squeezing him brought him to a mind-blowing orgasm. And he went on, even as you called his name like a litany, a sob interrupting you every now and then as you panted.

He took himself half a minute of stillness. “Can you do another?” He asked, both his hands gripping your ass as he picked you up. “Missionary on the sofa. Just one, I promise.” He said, already walking you to his black leather couch.

You nodded, wordless and brainless, simply hissing when the cold material met your back. “Sorry. I know, cold.” He said, caressing your face. “Ready?” He asked.

Again you nodded, looking at him with a pout. He bent down to kiss your lips. “I love you.” He said.

He said it so often. It was his favourite thing to say, mostly because you would offer him your sweetest smile and your eyes would sparkle with surprise and arousal, just like the first time he had confessed to you. Just like the first time he had bound your wrists on top of your head, kissing all the way down your body, showing you how much adoration his body and his mind could muster.

As he sank into you, you cried out his name tenderly.

“I’ve got you, little dove.” He said, cradling your head in the crook of his arm. “My pretty little bird.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, drawing the shape of your lips. “I’ll be home, in our bed tonight.” He slipped his thumb into your mouth, wetting it. “I’ll make you so happy, Giggles.” He removed it, bringing it to your clit, delicately rubbing circles into your skin. “It’s all I wanna do.” He pressed his lips restlessly to your mouth and chest, your eyes following his movements in slow motion. You were so far gone you even doubted the sensation between your legs when you felt a new tightness ready to snap.

“Close.” You mouthed somewhere on his chest or neck or shoulder. It felt like slow dancing in a dark room. Except he was inside you and the rocking motion relaxed you so completely that you simply let go, not even listening to him saying to hold on, to make it last a second more, to focus on him.

You simply smiled as pleasure took over, Hoseok himself falling on top of you as his hips lost their pattern and let go of any semblance of control and tempo. His mouth pressed into your nipple as he moaned in release.

You both felt like dead bodies afterwards, laying there empty, spent, completely lost. You could have died without a bother. You could have kept existing without a bother, your bodies resting and waking in an endless cycle, the same way day and night follow each other. You were one thing, one entity, not even one body — any relation to material substance was momentarily suspended.

“Giggles.” He checked in on you. ��Baby, we should go home, uh? I don’t have stuff to spoil you here, dove.” He said with a worried note.

Your eyelids fluttered open.

“There she is. Hello, sunshine.” He said, trying to fix your hair. “Let me fix the room before we go, yes?”

You smiled. “Let me help.” You said, only half convinced.

He tutted. “No, sweetie. You lay there and I fix this.” He slipped out of you, standing up slowly, a little clumsily. He immediately went to his desk grabbing his cup of water and sinking a corner of his t-shirt, dabbing at his face and chest, then down at his crotch. Next, he walked towards you, using another wet corner to clean you up. “There.” He said, kissing your knee once he was done. Next he dressed you, manoeuvring your body to slip your clothes on. With a bottle of generic cleanser randomly laying on his drawer, he made sure that no stain remained on the floor where he had eaten you out. Standing in his boxers, he rolled the rope back in a tight coil, placing it back into the bag, together with the flogger, making a mental note to clean it once he arrived home. He didn’t even check what you had packed. He was impatient to shower and cuddle with you at home. Your shared home.

Slipping on his sweater, he looked around, checking for potential hints of what had happened. He shrugged once he saw none. He shut down his computer, checking for the other devices to be off too. Finally, he spritzed some of his cologne on himself and the room. “Okay. We’re good, Giggles. Let’s go.”

You groaned before sitting up and waiting for him to offer you his hand to help you up. “That playlist was pretty bomb.” You said. “We should keep it for our wild nights.”

“I’m using it for my next collab.” He replied, closing down the studio and slipping his shoes on. You did the same at his side. “Maybe you will enjoy my song.” He said, winking at you.

“Oh, hi guys! What are you doing here?” Jimin chirped behind you.

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Hi. You’re here late.”

“Just passing by.” Jimin said. “Forgot my laptop.” He shook his head. “Hello, Giggles!” He said to you.

It felt ridiculous how all the boys used the nicknames for you and the other girlfriends. Still, it didn’t bother you, since it reminded you of your bond with Hoseok, but also of that familiarity within the group. “Hi Jimin!” You chirped, a little nervous at the possibility of him knowing what had happened in Hoseok’s studio.

“Well, goodnight!” Jimin said sweetly. “I assume you won’t be at the dorms tonight.”

Hoseok tutted. “I’ll be staying with Giggles. She moved in.” He said with a happy tone.

“I’m happy for you. However I hope you won’t be walking out with that tickler hanging out of the bag.” He winked with a teasing remark. “Enjoy it.” He trotted off.

Standing beside Hoseok, you blushed all the way to the tip of your ears.

Hoseok snickered. “Brat.”

Well, he was Princess’ problem now, anyway.

#bts smut #bangtan smut #bts fic #bts scenario #jung hoseok #jhope #hoseok smut #hoseok one shot #hoseok scenario #hoseok x reader #hoseok fan fiction

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isabellehemlock · 3 years

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Fanfic Ask Game

Thank you to the ethereal @disregardandfelicity for tagging me in this lovely fanfic ask game 🤗

I actually had done a similar one to this about ten weeks ago, but let’s see if any of the answers changed 😎

Now who to tag?? Hmmm

@tobebbanburg @kiaya (now that she's back!!) @mekana47 @fitzcamebacktome (no pressure though of course)

How many works do you have on AO3?

37 (with 6 being fanart)

How many fandoms have you written for (and what are they)?

The majority are for The Old Guard - and a few are for Luca Marinelli Multiverse Character crossover au’s.

Are there any new fandoms you want to write for?

Well I’m outlining a prequel for The Witcher featuring Calanthe and Eist :)

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Endless Ocean (TOG Modern AU)

Cleanse (TOG Post Canon)

Catch Me If I Fall (TOG Omegaverse AU)

The Bet (TOG Pre Canon)

The Purpose of Art (TOG Modern AU)

Which of your fics do you want more attention for?

They’ve had enough attention, it’s fine lol. I mean I do love kudos and comments, and I do hope something that brought me joy, brings joy to someone else, but I don’t know if I think any works need “attention.” I suppose if the question is meant more like, “Which of your fics do you hope people notice?” - I’d say, “Any that helps brings joy to someone’s day, or helps them process something.”

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I love commentary, I love to talk - words of affirmation is my love language <3 - and am always so grateful when someone has gone out of their way to let me know they enjoyed my fic/art (and seriously I’ve had a full range of commentary from like emotes to quotes copied back to me and everything in between and I treasure each one! I even keep some saved on my phone). I tend to reply back within twenty four hours, but sometimes it can take me up to a week and a half if I have a pretty full inbox (which hey, that’s a good kind of “problem” to have lol). Right now I have thirteen I’m hoping to respond to by morning :)

What sorts of things do you normally write?

I’ve been told I write two extremes - either fluffy or angsty lol. And it’s enough of a pattern where I seem to trade off between the two between each work. I’d probably say the tropes or themes that keep reappearing is simply down to discovering how someone feels loved (whether that’s romantic or platonic), and communicating that to strengthen the relationship, and lots and lots of healing and feelings. So yeah, sometimes that’s adorable and fluffy, sometimes that’s angsty 🙈

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I think it depends on your definition of angst? Because I would say “none,” but then I do have a few that are probably close: The Necklace (TOG pre canon), An Interrupted Oath (TOG pre canon), and Memento Mori (TOG pre canon) - can’t really say too much without it becoming spoilery, but essentially . . . sad, sadder (because the reunion is off screen), and third is a cliffhanger 👀

What’s a fic that pushed you out of your comfort zone?

All of them lol. In one way or another, because I always have this moment right before I post a new work - or a chapter update, where I have to convince myself it’s a good idea (thanks anxiety 🙃).

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yup yup - and oh hands down, Pwimo where Primo Nizzuto turns into a catboi. But I have something even crazier in the works lol.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Co-planned EO, butttt - not yet, though fingers crossed for a little something later in the year 😎🐙

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oh I’m going to finish them. I might be six months behind schedule but it’s going to happen. I have yet to make a google doc of like a whole outline and not do a fic 😏

What are you currently working on?

My Joe x Nicky precanon get together fic, Their souls were knit together (and he loved him as himself). Last night I uploaded the angstiest, most depressing chapter I have ever written ever (which is really saying something), but I’m just under halfway through and the rest is focused on healing and growing closer and all that lovely jazz.

I'll probably be working on it for the next month and uploading once a week - do some fluffy one shots here and there, and then dive into my Cult AU around Valentine's Day 👀 I mean, I have started it, but figured I'd pause while I worked on some things during December 🎄

What are your writing strengths?

I think when it comes to within the fic itself, maybe character backgrounds and dialogue? I really like to explore what makes a person them from all angles, and discover that through dialogue and explorations of their past. So I suppose a chunk of my energy goes into those portions the most? I do like to think I’m funny sometimes, but sadly the angst tends to outweigh my attempts to balance it with humor, because I have yet to receive a comment of “this was funny” on a heavy chapter lolll

And just in case the question was about writing in general, I’d say my strength actually lies in my neuro divergent brain. I don’t really need to carve out time to write, because I can sort of tap in, tap out throughout the day/week. Thirty minutes here, pause - work on an errand, then head right back in for another hour, and so on. I mean of course it’s great to be able to schedule a block of a day to just really pump out the words, but it’s not a necessity, and since I’m a mom with a full calendar, it’s nice not to need a lot of transition time between activities. Helps me to actually be able to get more done during the day, so I can do some fun creative stuff in between errands.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Most recent?

I have some vague memory of jotting down notes for Sailor Moon fanfiction when I was like fourteen but I’m not 100% if I ever posted it, or just dreamt I did lol (twenty two years ago ahhhh!). The Old Guard was the first fandom I wrote fics for and posted them on AO3!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

That’s like asking a parent who their favorite kid is, I can’t pick one haha. But feel free to check out the link at the beginning to see which baker's dozens I linked that came to mind first lol

What fic are you most proud of?

I can’t do the proud word lol, hmmmm - I think I feel most humbled by someone saying they felt seen, or something I wrote resonated with a reader. Love hearing it helped them process something. I wrote plenty of fluff, and even pwf, but honestly I do try to reflect "What would I have wanted to read growing up?" (Because one, it nurtures my inner child and two, it might nurture someone else's 🥰)

Thank you for the tag Felicity

#gentle hugs to Felicity #fanfic ask game #tag game #for queue

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trashmancer · 3 years

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Again, been reading a lot recently, and here's some recent reads and my thoughts. (All very spoiler-free)

Johannes Cabal: The Necromancer by Jonathan L. Howard

I'd heard about this series for a while, but had always kept putting off reading it, and finally I was in the mood for some comedic (yet dark) shenanigans--and a villain protagonist as charming as Johannes Cabal really hit me just right. I really enjoyed the first of this series and the introduction to this 1920's-ish universe similar-yet-different to our own that Howard's created. His writing is crisp and clever--and Johannes is a villain protagonist worth cheering for. He's duplicitous, arrogant, and cold, yet sharp-witted and competent enough to be engaging, and even though he's amoral (driven predominately with an "ends do justify the means" mentality) there are glimmers of a conscious buried in there.

The basic gist of the first book is that Johannes Cabal is a necromancer dead-set (ba-dum-sh) on thwarting the biggest plague affecting mankind: Death. As such, he's willing to go to extreme lengths to hone and perfect his necromantic abilities. In the pursuit of this knowledge, Cabal sold his soul to Satan, but he comes to realize he actually needs his soul for his necromancy to work more properly (apparently without a soul it gets very unpredictable). In order to win his soul back, he strikes a wager with Satan: he will accumulate 100 souls for Satan in return for his own. Satan, ever the fair player (not), gifts Cabal with an infernal carnival to help Cabal reach his goal within the year. Shenanigans ensue.

While I read some books in-between this one and the next in the series, I'll write about the other here--

Johannes Cabal: The Detective by Jonathan L. Howard

So clearly I enjoyed the first installment enough to keep going, and I am glad, because I enjoyed the second one even more than the first. It feels like Howard got more comfortable with the characters and world than before, and in this one he expands his universe with some made-up countries that are similar-to-yet-different than countries on our Earth. In this one, Cabal does less fantastic tricks, as he dons the role of investigator (there's been a murder--on an airship!), but the plot was very fun. I will say this is one of the first books in a long while to genuinely make my world-weary ass laugh out loud in public. Howard truly does know how to turn a phrase and comes off with some great witticisms.

Guns of the Dawn by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Tchaikovsky has been on my radar for a while because I have had Children of Time on my reading list for what feels like an age (and I still haven't gotten around to reading it, but I will soon). To prime myself, I looked up other works by Tchaikovsky. This was around the time I was look for good "stand-alone" Adult Fantasy novels as well, so the two linked up and I had this on my TBR for a while and got around to finally cracking it open.

I really loved this book. If I could describe it in any way, it would be sort of like Pride & Prejudice if Elizabeth Bennet got drafted into a war. Seriously. That's how it reads--and Tchaikovsky made the allusions to Austen's work very clear. The setting is very English-inspired, and the time period mimics Napoleonic times. Definitely the first "Flintlock Fantasy" I've had the pleasure of reading.

The themes of the book are about the caustic nature of nationalism, the blurring of truth during war, and what is true patriotism in the face of falsehood and horror. Definitely my kind of questions--and I love watching characters thrown into completely unfamiliar environments. A genteel woman (Emily Marshwic) being tossed headfirst into grisly, mosquito-infested swamps armed with a musket? It's a fascinating journey she undergoes.

Plus the novel featured a romantic subplot that hits my enemies-to-lovers buttons hard. (It's not at all like one of those tired YA enemies-to-lovers stories, but something more grown-up and messy, which I approve of, because I love drama.) But this is more of a personal note. It's definitely not going to be for everyone.

Retribution Falls (Tales of the Ketty Jay #1) by Chris Wooding

After Johannes Cabal, I got into the mood for some steampunk, and I hadn't actually read much in the way of steampunk, so I looked up some recs and the Tales of the Ketty Jay series seemed to appear on a lot of lists for this kinda thing. The basic gist of this one is... imagine steampunk Firefly. That kinda gives you the whole vibe and feel. It's about a crew of disparate and colorful characters all running from something who meet on the ship the Ketty Jay and have to learn to work together to survive.

Overall, it was a fast-paced read (I read this 400 page sucker in a single day--while doing other stuff) and Wooding knows how to write action and interesting character interactions. The world had some glimmers of brilliance (the wizard analogs in their world--daemonist--were the most intriguing part), but otherwise it was very typical steampunk. I had no real quibbles with any of that (aside from the fact some of it read as very cliche and Wooding's inspirations seemed a little obvious--Fullmetal Alchemist and Firefly being the two big ones that kept hammering me over the head), but my main complaint was with the writing and treatment of female characters. First, there is only one main female character in the Ketty Jay's crew--Jez. I had no real issues with Jez's character or writing (in fact she's refreshing in some ways), but she's completely isolated from any other female characters (and is also the only crew member who isn't really allowed to be a complete screw up--she's somewhat sanitized, which, I guess the heroic women characters aren't allowed to be fuck ups like the men?). Second, the other predominate female characters, of whom there are only three, are mute/dehumanized (Bess), characterized as stupid and unhinged (Amalicia), and have rape-as-a-backstory-written-TERRIBLY (Trinica). All that said, as much as it was cringe, this was written in 2009, and I am sure Wooding has had some growth as a writer since then.

I liked this one enough to decide to check out the next in the series (even knowing the writing for the female characters leaves much to be desired).

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

A Fantasy taking place in an Americas-inspired world? Absolutely refreshing (and more please). The main gist of this one is that a cult sets out to resurrect a dead god (seriously that's the main plot crux) while political machinations are going on in the central city of this country where the resurrection is going to take place. As the novel progresses, it's like a countdown clock to game time. There's four POV characters we follow: Xiala (a Teek sea captain who is kind of an outcast from her native people and has a love for beautiful people), Serapio (the man who has been groomed since birth to be the vessel for the resurrected god, part of this process has included blinding him), Naranpa (the Sun Priest of the capital city who is trying to garner back control the priesthood has lost), and Okoa (who really doesn't even appear until way later into the book; he's been separated from his family to train to be a warrior). For the most part, I was primarily engaged (re: 90% engaged) with Xiala and Serapio's story. They were the most interesting characters, and the journey of them on the sea trying to get to the city before the ceremony was exciting and emotional. The political dealings in Naranpa's segments kind of bogged down the action--and I didn't feel anything for that. Overall though, definitely a thrilling read with a beautifully constructed world. If I had one big criticism, it's that it ended incredibly abruptly without any resolution. I knew going in this was a part of a greater whole, but I still felt the ends could've been knotted a little tighter. I'm left dangling! But I'll be sure to pick up the next one (if anything just to find out what happens to Xiala and Serapio).

Vicious by V.E. Schwab

As an unapologetic villainfucker, I had to read this one, right? It's about not just one, but two villains! How could I lose? And they're in an intense rivalry? Revenge? Betrayal? Superpowers? Gah! Be still my heart!

I'll say I enjoyed this book (fun characters, solid writing), but I didn't love it as much as I thought I would (I wish I could love yooouuuu!). Definitely worth a recommendation to anyone who loves villains and fast-paced narratives, but... there were a few things that tarnished what could've been sparkling. The biggest for me was the jumping around in the first half. For a length of time, the novel leaps between three different points of time, sometimes 2-3 pages at a time, and it was jarring (not confusing, mind you, but it was a jolt each time). I get it was done to create an air of mystique and intrigue, but it felt like I was getting dragged around by the ear. Along with this, the plot just seemed... very convenient? As various moments kept happening, it all felt too tidy and paint-by-numbers. The characters were certainly messy and fun (and I love messy and fun), but the action itself seemed to glide on well-oiled rails with no hiccups. This did lead to the magnetic pacing of the book (which I also read in a day), but it didn't do the drama any favors. Never once did it feel like the characters were caught with their pants down--and I think that's part of the point, but it kind of dampened the tension.

I liked it enough I am definitely going to check out the sequel Vengeful though. If anything I am reading for Sydney, Mitch, and Victor. I gotta know what happens to them!

Right now I am reading some fluffy fluff to cleanse my palette because I've been reading so much moodiness. I'm mid-way through the light and breezy Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater (and it's super cute so far) and then I am finally going to crack open Andy Weir's The Martian (because I have put off reading it for far too long).

#recent reads #book review #just jotting my thoughts down somewhere #seriously though i am itching to read the next johannes cabal but i gotta pace myself #i don't want to burn through those like i did murderbot lol

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sicloudlifting · 5 years

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Underrated Self Care Items to Lift

Okay so I was talking on Peach about how I hate that I only ever see the stereotypical self care items like haircare, skincare, makeup, etc. So, I decided to make a list of things to lift to care for yourself that isn't just the usual lotions and lipstick. This can be for people with mental illness or neurotypicals who just aren't that good at participating in self care. Alright, here we go.

A water bottle. If you have a really nice water bottle you're way more likely to drink water, it's a proven fact. I take several medications with side effects of dehydration but for some reason I very rarely feel thirsty so I am chronically dehydrated. Honestly if you feel like shit one day and can't figure out why drink some water and see if you feel better. I always feel so icky when I don't drink enough water. I've even seen smart water bottles that you can connect to your phone. If you don't like regular water, lift some of those Mio water flavoring bottles, or some fruit to make infused water.

Nutritious foods. Grocery hauls are becoming way more of a thing on liftblr which I love to see because there's only so many clothes and so much makeup you really need and can use. Lift some fancy nutritious food from like Whole Foods or something. I mean how hard is it to slide a couple of organic bananas into your bag? Some granola? A bar or vegan and ethically sourced dark chocolate? Whatever man just lift a nutritious snack to eat during your self care time.

Socks. I feel like socks are a pretty common lift but just in case you weren't thinking about it. I like those really thick and cushiony old man socks lmfao, they're so comfy to wear around the house especially if you've just put some lotion on your feet.

Nail polish. I feel like this is also common to lift, but if you haven't thought about it, consider it. Taking a little time to paint your nails garuntees you won't be doing anything for awhile, and gives you an excuse to just sit around while your nails dry. Plus it's fun, simple, and I feel like everyone feels a little more put together with their nails painted.

A really nice robe. Getting a really nice robe to just wear around the house or after you leave the shower is heavenly, truly. Imagine stepping out of the shower freshly shaved, moisturizing with a thick nice smelling body butter, and then sliding into a silk robe? The vibes.

Comfy pajamas. I always just wear old t shirts and boxers at my house, but consider lifting some cute and soft pajamas. How you dress is directly related to how you feel, so even if no one is going to see you that day it never hurts to dress up a little for yourself. I don't recommend anything sexy and lacey, just some simple, soft, comfortable PJ's to lounge around in.

House slippers. I honestly hate having things on my feet, I like my toes to be free. But if you've got carpet like me, walking around barefoot absolutely sucks the moisture out of your feet and leaves you with cracking, crusty heels. Gross. You could always just wear the aforementioned comfy socks, but having a designated pair of fluffy house slippers is just the height of luxury.

Foot care in general. Face and body care gets all the hype, especially on liftblr. But, feel get neglected asf by almost everyone. Do you know how luxurious it is to give yourself a good pedicure at home and have soft, smooth feet? I lifted myself a Pedi Perfect (one of those motorized foot files) and it's life changing especially if you're like me and your feet are just the gross neverending callous. Get some nice toe nail nippers, some foot cream, a pumice stone, whatever. Your life will never be the same.

Tea and coffee. Stop buying cheap af tea and coffee when you can lift the good stuff. Get the bags of Starbucks coffee beans, steal a French press, get some loose leaf tea, whatever. Just get the good shit ffs I never see y'all lifting tea.

Plants. Obviously don't lift plants if you don't think you can care for them, and ofc you can't fit a huge ass shrub in your bag, but taking a few succulents home won't hurt. Some people find that caring for something else, like a pet, makes them feel better. If you don't have a pet, try a plant! Plus being around a lot of plants always lifts my mood, especially in these dreary winter months.

Vitamins. Lift some good quality hair skin and nail vitamins, pre natal vitamins, or even just a multi. Getting some extra nutrients that you may not get from your diet can't hurt. Also, speaking of the dreary winter months, a lot of people suffer from seasonal depression. This can actually be caused by a lack of vitamin D! Lift some vitamin D and take it in the winter, it might keep you from feeling sad and tired. If you get dizzy when you stand up too fast, get cold easily, or are easily fatigued, you might also be deficient in iron. Obviously get any of those symptoms checked out by a doctor, but it won't hurt you to lift some iron pills and see if they make you feel a little better. A pretty reliable sign that you aren't getting enough iron is if your nail beds have a pale or bluish tint. Finally, try some St. John's Wart. It's an herbal supplement that has been shown in recent studies to help relieve mild depression symptoms. If you have major depressive disorder, obviously an herbal supplement won't be quite as good as a real antidepressant. But, if you suffer from mild mood problems or need help feeling a little calmer, try this. Before you try any of these supplements please READ THE WARNINGS and TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR. If you don't have access to a doctor right away at least GOOGLE if these supplements interact with any other medications you are taking, I know that the St. John's Wart in particular can be tricky.

An aromatherapy diffuser and essential oils. Idk if I believe in aromatherapy completely, but it's pretty hard to feel shitty when you have the gentle smell of citrus essential oil wafting around your room, I'm just saying.

A salt lamp. Apparently the salt lamps are supposed to "cleanse your atmosphere". Again, not 100% buying it, but they are soooo pretty and I use mine as a nightlight because it gives off a soft orange glow. It's apparently better to use a red-tinted light at night if you have to have one because it won't keep you up. You can even lift tiny salt lamps that plug into the outlet just like a night light.

A notebook/journal and pens. Sometimes writing about your feelings makes you feel a bit better. You can also get art supplies and express yourself that way, or get a planner and organize your life to reduce stress related to a busy schedule.

Okay so this is all I can think of for now but please please PLEASE reblog with any of your suggestions! I've been thinking about the kinds of things I can get to take care of myself better, and everyone just says face masks and stuff. I have hella face masks, and I don't feel any better lmfaooo.

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shamelessllamapeanutthing · 4 years

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Ships and Feels about them

HUGE self-indulgent post but my brain is frozen and I need to get the juices flowing so I can start studying, because if I don’t get into the college I want I just might have to kill myself and then y’all can say bye-bye to your fav fics by your majesty.

YoruSoi- status: worSHIPPING (geddit? XD) them like the goddesses they are

I regularly play Wicked Ones by Dorothy and just imagine these two tag-teaming against their opponents, like the crazy, badass, ninja lesbians they are. It fucking gives me goosebumps and makes me blush like I am imagining them rawing each other instead. I am a big time SUCKER for powerful, cut-throat wlw. They make me feel powerful by extension, and my devotion for these two is completely unparalleled.

VictUuri- status: will protect them with my life

First of all, I love how layered and interesting they are. I can think about this show and this ship for hours and hours on end ( @feastingonvicturi will vouch for that). I naturally gravitate towards angsty ships and writing (because I am a weird sado-maso cross, what can I say) except for these two fluffy bastards. I had been putting off watching YOI because of the weird things I had read about ‘yaoi’ animes (IK YOI is not yaoi, now) till someone told me how pure and deep their love for each other was and welp, here we are.

RenRuki- status: comfort ship I’ll defend till death

It was one of my first ships and even as I multi-shipper, I always had a preference for them. Childhood-friends-to-lovers trope tugs on my heartstrings like little else and Renji’s devotion towards Rukia warms my heart. I hear them in nearly every song, imagine them in every scenario I read or write about and even though I have multiple ships I adore involving Rukia and Renji both, the two together is everything to me. (Presently obsessed with the amazing hcs and art by @recurring-polynya you might wanna check them out)

KaiRay- status: heart is taking a break, but remains firmly attached

I got into Beyblade BECAUSE of this ship, because of the moments these two shared in V-Force that I caught glimpses of when my younger siblings were watching the show. I love Kai and Ray’s dynamic and I guess what attracts me the most to this ship is the fact that as a teenager I was exactly like Kai and had my own personal Ray who got me through the worst in life. I love the sense of sweet nostalgia this couple brings me and I believe they are perfect for each other.

MariahEmily- status: coffee shop AU, anyone?

I was HUGE on MariahxRay but strong, stylish, kinda bitchy, dumb thot falling for the highly educated and fierce lady boss she doesn’t really know how to approach is another one of my favourite tropes, (see: PansMione, down under). I saw them interact and due to personal reasons my brain rejects petty rivalry between girls (because we’re all tired of that, children, be honest) and immediately tries to fix it in fanon. ( @trashyartz and her beautiful drawings had a lot to do with fanning these flames.)

ShunUki- status: want them to adopt me

Need I say more? No, but I wanna. I love the steady, secure vibes of this ship. This is the one ship I physically can’t write angsty shit about because of the level of understanding and sense of comfort these two share. They give me kind and strong dad vibes and I have emotionally been an orphan since I was in my early teens so.

WolfStar- status: they’re canon, JKR can suck my toes

Fucking TERF

Listen, listen, have you been listening? I mentioned I am a sucker for angst, right? Are you looking at the angst potential here, cause wow. What originally attracted me to this ship was the Chemistry between the two, cause it’s undeniable. You can NOT imagine Maurauders’ Era without imaging these two pining over each other. It’s impossible.

PansMione- status: toxic and problematic, but oh so hot

I got on this ship because I was craving some quality wlw ships. You guys’ I can not explain to you how often female characters in shows and books do not pass the Bechdel test and I stumbled on some gorgeous PansMione art and just fell in love. IK this ship is hella problematic, but I am firm on my stance that the baby Slytherins deserve a redemption arc.

Can you imagine these two after Pansy realises everything she did wrong and vows to be better? I imagine Hermione stumbling on a hurt and confused Pansy in year 8, who can’t stop her tears from flowing and is so ashamed of herself for that. She is feeling guilty and resisting the emotion with everything she possesses because the world she’d always known has crumbled down around her and everything she believed in has now been proven to be wrong.

She lashes out at Hermione because how dare that smart, gorgeous, courageous girl also be everything Pansy once thought she was? How dare she, a muggleborn, unravel the complicated threads of the wizard world so quickly, so efficiently, and clearly see what Pansy never could? Pansy is hurt and guilty and angry and she hates the fact that fucking Granger of all people has now witnessed her crying.

She feels lost and her anger only rages louder when Hermione doesn’t gloat or belittle her, she doesn’t say anything.

(Why is this turning into a ficlet, WHAT)

Anyways, Pansy gets over herself and she and Hermione get together and oh my god, imagine them then. Smart, powerful, righteous Hermione taking the fucking Wizarding World by a storm every single day with her sexy, vivacious, clever Pansy by her side. They’d be unstoppable and they’d love each other something fierce. It would show in the way they look at each other, with a sense of victory, not only over Voldemort but over the entire Wizarding society that had done everything it could to tear them apart, and ultimately failed.

(BONUS: Imagine Ron and Harry being utter dorks when they go to Pride parades with Hermione and let the image cleanse your skin and soul. @feastingonvicturi @trashyartz one of you (or both?) needs to collab with me so I can write a fix it fic for these two, please. I will pledge my soul to the devil to be used and abused as per Trashy’s whims in exchange. Taura will do it cause she’s my best friend and loves me more than I deserve to be loved.)

(In conclusion, I adore every single one of these ships and am willing to slice a bitch’s throat to protect their honour. Except for YoruSoi, they are fictional characters IK but I am convinced they do not need anybody’s protection, least of all this dumb fuck’s and just might laugh at the very idea.)

Also, feel free to reblog or comment with rants about your own ships even if they go directly against mine. More love to you if you expand on the ships I mentioned here myself. Tell me about your poison of choice, go ahead.

But if any one of you dares to send hate to any of my ships, please know that I am something of a God in my own capacity and will smite you with my preferred weapon of choice i.e. blindness in the face of adorable puppies or kittens (in pictures, videos, art, real life or otherwise). Beware. Let people love what they love.

#my ships #Bleach #Yuri!!! on Ice #Harry Potter #beyblade #YoruSoi #victuuri #renruki #kairay #mariahxemily #shunuki #wolfstar #pansmione

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h-styles-babes · 5 years

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Something Wicked

Hi guys! After a couple years of telling myself that I’m going to write a fic for Halloween, I’ve finally done it! I’m honestly kind of proud of myself, but I don’t think I would’ve gotten it done if not for my wonderful cheerleaders and ego boosters: @thicksniall @stylishmuser @harrysdodgyankles @takemedancingmaine @harrytheehottie @feminarrie @booksncoffee @fireawaynjh @midnghtcities @pagesuponstpages @almondharry

(I’m sure I missed someone, but ya’ll know who you are.)

This ended up being a long longer than I originally intended, so I will be posting it in two parts. Second part will be up tomorrow afternoon.

Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 13k

Warnings: Smut

Leaves crunched beneath three sets of feet as they trudged through the thick layer of fallen foliage that covered the forest floor. A crisp wind blew past the trio, whipping the girl’s hair around her face and ruffling the thick strands on the boys’ heads. The younger one was glad in that moment for the dramatic haircut he’d gotten just the month previous. Nothing was worse than trying to brush out his curly locks out after a windy day.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Harry asked, trying to shove his hands further into the leather jacket he was wearing. He’d much rather have been in a nice comfy jacket, maybe a nice fluffy jumper underneath, but no. Niall had been very adamant about both Harry and their other friend, the only girl in the group, Andie needing to be dressed in dark, “witchy” clothing for this occasion.

Niall was a photography major and needed some fall themed photos for a project. Andie had been his first choice as a model because…well, she already fit the aesthetic so well.

Andie, whose full name was even Andromeda (how much cooler could she get?) dressed year round like the epitome of a modern witch. If an item of clothing wasn’t black, it was blood red or deep purple, and she wore jewelry with symbols of the occult on it, and sometimes cats and bats. But that was because she thought the animals were cute. Whenever anyone ventured to ask why she dressed as she did, she simply shrugged and said, “I look cute.”

And she wasn’t wrong. The dark pallet of her clothes contrasted with the pale smoothness of her skin and flaming red of her hair. Her eyes were the most peculiar part of her, though. While they were most typically a pale blue, nearly grey colour, if you looked at her long enough, her friends would swear they’d turn purple.

So, Andie had been the obvious choice for the female model. Niall had mostly chosen Harry as a favour. Don’t get him wrong, Harry was an extremely attractive man and had the looks for a model, but Niall was especially being a good friend.

For as long as the two had known each other, Harry had harboured a huge crush on Andromeda.

They’d first met their first year of uni in an English class, where they’d been the only two people who’d completed the summer assignment of reading Pride & Prejudice. They’d joked together about the incompetency of their peers, and the rest was history.

Harry had obviously been first taken with her looks, because she had this almost otherworldly quality about her that was hard not to be drawn to upon first glance. But, very quickly, he’d realised her personality was exactly the type to which he responded most. She was quick and witty with enough dry humour to catch him off guard for just a moment before he started laughing. When he’d first brought her around his other mates, like Niall and Louis, they’d initially been a little taken aback by her appearance, but one joke about one of her professors that both Louis and Niall had the semester before, and it was like they’d all been the best of mates for years. She’d been hanging out with them ever since.

It had now been two years, and Harry had still not done anything to make it known that he was interested in her romantically. Everyone except for Andie knew about it, so his other friends had taken to trying to work their magic to get them together in different scenarios that had them spending ample amount of time together. Harry had yet to make a move, though, and he was running out of time. This was their last year at uni and then who knew where they’d all end up?

“Because the wind will do great things for Andie’s hair. And the leaves are pretty. Just stop complainin’ and this’ll go quick,” Niall told him.

Andie chuckled at both Harry’s whinging and Niall’s snappy response. Those two were like and old married couple. Andie found it endearing.

“Oh, perk up, Harry,” she encouraged, shoving her shoulder into his own. The heeled boots she was wearing got them closer to a similar height, so when she looked at him, she didn’t have to look up to meet his eyes. “It’s a beautiful day out, even with the wind. Now, put on your Blue Steel and take some proper photos for our dear Niall.”

Harry grumbled nonsense under his breath until they reached the clearing Andie had suggested to Niall as the setting for his photoshoot. It was a place she liked to come to get away for a little while when the constant happenings of the world for to be too much. It had an energy pulse to it that was calming and cleansing. It was good when she needed a breather.

It was also her prime spot for casting spells that required more than she inherently possessed in her being.

This particular spot in the forest just outside of the bustling center of Surrey was filled with ancient energy that had been infused by witches before her. There was an ancient enchantment placed around it that connected it directly to the energy at the core of the earth, coupled with the ageless magical energy. It was like a safe haven for all witches of pure intentions and those that needed its protection. Andie had chosen to attend uni here specifically to be close to this magical wonder.

Meeting Harry and Niall had been a happy coincidence. And keeping her status as a certified witch the whole time was nothing short of a miracle.

“This is beautiful, Andie,” Niall exalted, looking around. “It feels so…” Niall took a deep breath and sighed, “good.”

Even mortals could feel the good energy of this place.

This spot in the woods was almost completely cleared of trees and plants, aside from the plush grass. However, sat directly in the middle of the clearing was a large, pitch black rock. It was an obsidian boulder, which was a great medium for harnessing magical energy when more than a witch possessed was needed for a spell. Andie had spent many a full mood with artifacts surrounding the rock, incantations falling naturally from her tongue.

“This is pretty sick, mate,” Niall awed, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the stone. Andie couldn’t be sure if mortals could feel it, but the rock emitted a thrumming flow of energy, like a satisfied cat purring in your lap. She wasn’t even touching it, and the stone was sending a steady vibration through her being. Just standing there was making the magic that flowed through her system surge with the need to be used. This was not one of those visits, however.

“I figured it would be good for the shoot. It’s very autumn-y,” Andie agreed.

Harry joined them and ran his hand over the stone. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s warm,” he marveled. He looked up to the sky. It was completely overcast that day, rain definitely threatening, and it had been since they’d woken that morning. He was confused as to how the stone could be so warm with no obvious source of heat.

“Obsidian is said to have magical properties,” Andie told him, tongue-in-cheek, trying not to laugh at her private inside joke. “Maybe you’re a little magical yourself, Harry.”

Andie watched as Harry’s cheeks tinged pink over her comment. She knew of Harry’s crush on her. In all honesty, she had a crush on him too. And she would have acted on it long ago, but she couldn’t risk Harry’s safety with her magical abilities. By simply being a witch, she was constantly at threat of being found and attacked. Everyone thought the witch trials had ended in the eighteenth century, but they were wrong. There were still the select few that targeted witches because of bizarre religious views, sort of like they prosecuted gays and certain races. And while those witch hunters were few and far between, she couldn’t risk getting closer to anyone than necessary. Even if it was just to prevent him from finding out her secret, it was all for the best.

However, it didn’t mean she would turn down the opportunity to shamelessly and harmlessly flirt with him and get him a little flustered.

Niall quickly called the two to order to get to work. The sun would be setting in about half an hour, and they had to get the whole shoot done in that time. He’d be able to take a set of them while the sun was actively setting, to really capture the essence of autumn, the sun blazing through the gaps in the leaves that were turning colours with the onset of the season. They were going to turn out beautiful.

Andie was trying to help Harry pose in a more causal position against the obsidian rock when an overwhelming sense of dread flooded through her body, nearly drawing her to her knees. She braced herself against the rock and Harry reached out for her, asking if she was alright. Honestly, Andie wasn’t sure, because she’d never felt something so strong and draining before. It stole her breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping. When Harry grasped at her elbows, it was like the contact burned, searing her skin. She looked around them with bleary eyes, sensing there must be something around them that was causing her such a severe reaction, given that she’d never had such an interaction with Harry before.

Just over Harry’s shoulder, she spotted a smoky, dark figure, menacing in just the way it made Andromeda feel, like something was tugging at her heart. It was shrouded in a dark, wispy cloak and the feet and hands that peeked around the edges were skeletal with bits of flesh clinging to it, like a decaying corpse. Andie had never seen one personally before, but she’d recognise the entity anywhere. It was a wraith. There was no telling how long it had been wandering the earth, but it was most likely the result of an immortality spell gone wrong.

Witches were already at a high predisposition to live longer lives than humans—typically around 150 to 175 years—but some sought out to live forever. There were more steadfast methods to achieve this, like drinking from The Fountain of Youth or consuming a tea steeped from the leaves of to Everlasting Tree, but both were rare to come by for the typical witch. There were spells that claimed to cast eternity on the witch who performed it, but if even the slightest mistake was made or the witch did not harness the correct amount of power, a wraith was borne from the offered life force of that witch. These dark entities were doomed to an eternity roaming the earth, seeking out life forces to steal to sate their own need for vitality. Before they administered their final, soul-sucking touch, they’d latch onto their target and slowly but surely submerge them into a crippling depression, priming them for offering over their very soul and all their energy when the wraith was ready.

And this one had just attached itself to Harry’s flourishing life force.

~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, S, I need your help,” Andromeda hushed out into her mobile, Niall and Harry walking a few paces ahead of her, back to Harry’s car. Andie was doing her best to cast the protective spell she’d long ago placed over herself over Harry to keep the wraith at bay. It wasn’t the strongest ward she could conjure up, but it was what she could manage around two mortals without an active incantation or new spell altogether.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, sounding like she’d been pulled from sleep, which was entirely possible. When Sarah wasn’t busy being one of the senior witches in their coven, she played in a band that typically took gigs in bars and pubs. She’d probably been out until three in the morning before going straight to her job at the local chemist at five. She typically got off at one in the afternoon and went straight to bed. Given the hour, she was probably only asleep for three or four hours before Andie called. She’d be more apologetic, but this was sort of an emergency.

“Harry’s got a wraith attached to him,” she whispered frantically into the mouthpiece, watching to make sure Harry and Niall weren’t paying attention to her. They were still walking beside each other, laughing about who knew what.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” she gasped, suddenly sounding much more awake.

“Obviously not. I’m keepin’ it back with a pretty typical warding spell, but it’s not gonna last. I don’t know enough about this stuff to do anything about it.”

“Keep Harry close for awhile. Do what you can with the warding spells. I’m gonna visit a friend who might be able to help,” Sarah said, already sounding like she was getting dressed. “Maybe ask your mum if she can add some strength tho these wards.”

“No way,” Andie vehemently disagreed. “She figures out I got my friends close enough to magic to attract a wraith and she’ll kill me.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Sarah scoffed. “Anyone can attract a wraith, magical or not. They’re life suckers. They don’t care where the source is coming from. Coulda happened at any time.”

“I took them to the clearing,” Andie told her.

Sarah was silent for a few beats, obviously realising it was no coincidence that Harry had been latched onto by the demon. “Okay, don’t tell her that part.”

Andie choked out a laugh, covering it with a cough so she wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself as Harry held the passenger door open for her once they reached his car. She thanked him and slid into the front seat.

“Alright, I’ll do what I can. Let me know when you figure something out,” she told Sarah. The older woman agreed and they hung up.

Andromeda watched with apprehension as the wraith lingered outside the car, unable to interfere directly with the human world. It just followed alongside the car as it traveled back to the university. The ward that Andromeda cast around the car was keeping it further than it would normally follow, creating a physical barrier that it couldn’t cross. While from what she knew about wraiths, it would linger around Harry for weeks, if not months, before executing its final blow, she was erring on the side of caution. She’d spend every second of everyday with Harry until they figured out how to get rid of this thing if that’s what it would take. She wouldn’t let harm come to her best friend because of her stupid decision to bring them to a magical space. She thought the protections put around the clearing was enough to keep out all the nastiness of the magical world, but apparently the energy emanating from it was enough to attract the desperate ones, too. Her mistake.

Andie was too focused on keeping up the stretch of her spell to notice the silent interaction Harry and Niall were having via the rearview mirror. Niall had initially tickled the back of Harry’s neck between the bars in the headrest to get his attention, and then started making expressions with his eyebrows and mouthing words to his friend in the reflection. Niall was trying to silently convince Harry to ask Andie to hang out further, since it was a Thursday and neither of them had class the following day. It wasn’t unheard of for Harry and Andie to hang out together, separate from the rest of their friends, but Niall needed Harry to make it very apparent that his intentions weren’t just about friendship. They only had this year left to get their shit together, and Niall wanted to see it happen, if not for Harry’s sake, then for his.

Harry eventually rolled his eyes and nodded, relenting to his friend’s insistence. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hang out alone with Andie, he just didn’t want to make it awkward when she realised he liked her as more than a friend. But he supposed he had to swallow his pride and get on with it at some point, and there was no time like the present. And there was nothing like two years of silent pining to make a guy want to finally make a move.

As they got closer to campus, Harry cleared his throat intentionally to get Andie’s attention, since she seemed pretty spaced out, her eyes focused on some invisible point just beyond the passenger window. She very slowly turned her head away from whatever she was staring at, and only tore her eyes away at the very last second, before looking at Harry. She had an expectant look on her face.

“Was wonderin’ if you and Niall wanted to hang out at mine. Have some beers, watch a movie?” he suggested, already knowing Niall was planning to decline. They obviously hadn’t decided on a concrete plan, but Niall would jump at any opportunity to get those two alone.

“Sorry, mate, can’t,” he declined, genuinely sounding solemn. He honestly probably was, since he wouldn’t get to witness two year’s of handiwork on his and Louis’ part finally coming to fruition. But it was for the greater good. “Need to get to work on editin’. Lots to do before I turn these in.”

Harry nodded. “Right. What about you, A?”

Andromeda had to work to prevent her face from lighting up at his suggestion. The whole ride over, she’d been trying to work up a way to get Harry to keep spending time with her so she could keep her eyes on him while Sarah was of getting whatever information they needed from her mysterious source. However, she hadn’t been anticipating him handing her a reason on a silker platter.

Instead, she gave him a small smile, like she usually would when she was agreeing to hand out with him. “Sounds good. Take me home first, though? I need to get some stuff.”

Her and Harry usually ended up staying at the other’s flat overnight when they did movies, so her request wasn’t odd. While she would get some things to change into, she also needed a few things to complete a protection spell over Harry, so that he’d be safe, even when he wasn’t in her presence. She’d still spend as much time with him as possible until they could figure out how to drive off the wraith, but she couldn’t be with him all day, everyday. They still had classes and jobs to get to and lives to live that made that impossible. She’d cast this more general spell first in order to give him a layer of protection, and then she’d get to work on finding a spell that more specifically warded off dark entities. Maybe her mum would have information on such matters. She was a member of the enclave, so the protection of magical beings and mortals alike was sort of her specialty.

They dropped Niall off first, so that he could get to his editing. Then Harry drove Andie to her flat. She insisted he come up with her, since she didn’t want him left waiting in the car. She had a bunch of things to gather and a cat to feed, after all. Not to mention, the projection of her warding spell only cast so far, and three levels up and two hundred yards away from the car park were a bit out of her range. She was powerful, but no simple spell had that sort of distance, unless it was cast on the other individual.

Harry fed Beelzebub, Andie’s three year old black cat, while she was off in her room, getting a bag together. Bub, as Harry affectionately shortened his name, seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face that sort of begged off anyone new that hadn’t been around him before, but Harry knew better. While Bub’s eyes looked like they were set in a constant furrow, he was a really sweet cat that loved chin scratches and head butted anyone that was at the appropriate height. Which was exactly why he hopped up on the arm of the couch, next to where Harry was sitting, after he’d finished his meal. He dipped his head to bump the top of it against Harry’s chin and promptly began purring. Harry gave Bub a good rub down, starting at his chin, working his way over the top of his head, and down his back, lingering at that place toward his tail that made him arch his back.

By the time Harry had completed the circuit a few times, Andie had rejoined him. She tapped the toe of her boot against his to draw his attention from the cat that was currently impersonating a motorbike on his lap. Andie had never known Beelzebub to purr so loud until Harry had made his first visit to her flat two years previous. He’d promptly sat himself in Harry’s lap and flipped over to expose his belly. He starting purring as soon as Harry scratched his fingers down the vulnerable pudge, and the rest was history.

Bub had been bestowed some magical properties upon his adoption into Andie’s life, as was normal for pets of witches, so he was more sophisticated and intelligent than a typical house cat—which were pretty smart anyway—but that didn’t mean he was above endless scratches and rubs.

“Ready?” Andie asked.

Harry looked from the cat in his lap to his friend stood in front of him. “Why don’t we just bring Bub with us? He’ll be fine at mine for a night.”

“Then who would be here to scare away any potential freaks that try to get into my flat?” Andie argued, sending a wink Bub’s way. He gave a short, succinct mew, as he knew his main duty when Andromeda was gone was to guard all the magical and nonmagical things that resided in her flat. Bub may only be a seven pound cat, but he wasn’t just claws and teeth. Those magical properties had been bestowed upon him for a reason.

“Fine. I just feel bad leavin’ him here by himself,” Harry said. He scooped Beelzebub up from his lap and set him down on the cushion beside him. He rubbed his head against Harry’s thigh as he stood. Andie swore that if the cat wasn’t magically tied to her, he’d have found a permanent home with Harry by now. He loved her, sure, but he had some weird obsession with her friend.

“He’s a tough guy, he’ll be fine,” Andie assured, not for the first time. Every time they went from Andie’s flat to Harry’s, there was always a brief conversation where Harry tried to get Andie to take Bub to his for the night. She wasn’t really sure why Harry didn’t just get his own cat, considering it seemed he wanted one so bad. She had thought about maybe looking into cats for adoption for him on more than one occasion over the years they’d known each other.

The ride back to Harry’s flat was quick. They only lived a few blocks away from each other, which was nice when they were in the need of company at odd hours of the day. She was able to walk to his flat in less than five minutes at any given time of day, and it was a fairly lit path, so it felt okay to walk at night. While she was protected pretty well from all things supernatural, she wasn’t immune to human predators.

Harry was in the process of getting something together for them to eat when Sarah called Andie back. She walked back into Harry’s room, where she knew she could get a bit of privacy, before pressing the green button.

“What’d you find out?” she asked, getting straight to the point. Time was of the essence with this thing, and they didn’t have any to waste.

“I just got into contact with my lady. She doesn’t know anything off the top of her head, but she’s looking.”

“Looking? Sarah, I need answers. I can feel this thing lurking. I got stuff to place his own warding spell on him, but it’s not gonna hold it back long.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s got one of the world’s most powerful witches with him,” Sarah told her firmly. “I trust you can keep ahold of this thing. Talk to your mum. And I’ll get to you as soon as my source gets back to me. She’s good, Andie, but there’s barely any literature on wraiths. We’re doing what we can.”

Andie groaned and leaned her head against the door frame of Harry’s room. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…he’s my best mate.”

“And you’re in love with him, I get it,” Sarah assured.

“Wait, what?” Andie asked, head shooting up from her slouched position. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, c’mon, Andromeda, don’t play dumb.”

Andie sighed, lightly banging her head against the doorjamb. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing can happen. But I need him safe.”

Sarah was silent for a few moments on the other end of the line. Finally she said, “He will be. Give me a couple days.”

~*~*~*~*~

When Harry fell asleep that night, Andie went about very quietly setting up all the things she needed to perform her warding spell. Considering Harry was one of the heaviest sleepers she’d ever met—he’d slept through not one, but three fire alarms in their dorm building their first year of uni—, she didn’t bother with a silencing charm for the a spell that wasn’t going to take her longer than ten minutes to perform.

She carefully placed her four stones at the compass points of Harry’s living room, creating a magical energy barrier around the flat and its resident. She then unfolded a small tapestry with the symbol of the three goddesses, the ultimate symbol of protection in her family line. Anyone bestowed with a protective ward by a person of her lineage on this symbol was set against anything that could try to intrude upon their lives. The wraith was a different sort of entity, of course, but it would keep it at bay as long as Andromeda kept up the protection. It wasn’t a fail-safe, but it would have to do until they got a better answer.

Andie set the Harry’s token in the center of the middle moon on the tapestry. She’d been a bit of a creep and found Harry’s hair brush in the bathroom and collected his hair off of it. She supposed she could have found his pair of reading glasses and used those, but there was always a chance that a token that didn’t contain the subject’s DNA could render the spell void, and that was a chance she wasn’t willing to take. So she made sure his little clump of gathered hair was within the center moon before stepping back from her tapestry.

She waved her hand in a sweeping motion over the room, lighting all the ritual candles she’d placed in the room, lighting it in an eery haze. She closed her eyes against the sudden onslaught of energy she felt surge through her body, taking a deep breath to properly channel it. Her body knew when some more powerful magic was about to be used and it rushed through her veins, lighting them on fire in a way that was supremely pleasant. If she had to compare it to anything a mortal would experience, it would be like that feeling right before an orgasm, where every inch of your body was on edge, waiting for that one last thing that finally pushed you over. She could see why lesser witches could get addicted to the act of using magic like this.

Andie rubbed her fingers into her palms, that sensation sparking, and then held them both over the tapestry she’d placed on the floor. With one last deep breath, she began muttering the warding incantation under her breath. It was a slew of Latin words she knew by heart. It was one of the first spells a young witch learned, since it was relatively simple, but powerful when done correctly. She’d memorised the words by the time she was eight, and she was glad to not have to cart around a spell book everywhere she went.

She was only into her second line of incantation when there was a crashing sound from the hallway. She gasped and opened her eyes, her eyes automatically locking on Harry’s wide, shocked ones. Andie could’ve sworn in that moment that they both were not breathing. Harry was frozen in shock but Andie was frozen with the fear of being caught. She was still composed enough to take in the fact that Harry was in nothing but a pair of boxers and an entirely too large jumper that nearly hung off his shoulder and covered down the tips of his fingers. Such a contrast to the tight jeans and leather jacket he’d been wearing earlier in the day. Her heart would have leaped at the sight of him if she wasn’t completely hung up on the fact that her biggest secret had just been revealed to her best friend.

“What the fuck?” Harry finally uttered.

“Shit,” she spat. With a dismissive wave of her hand, the candles all blew out and the lights overhead turned on, bathing the room in a more normal light.

“What the fuck?” he asked again, louder this time, more emotion laced in his voice.

“Harry, I can explain,” she told him, reaching her hand out in a calming motion.

He stumbled back into a small cabinet he had in the middle of his hall. “Jesus. Your eyes were…”

“Purple, I know,” she appeased, trying her best to use a soothing voice. She knew he was more than a little surprised and possibly equal amounts of freaked out, and she didn’t want to exasperate it. She never wanted for him to find out she was a witch, especially like this, right in the middle of a spell. Granted, it was a spell for his protection, and one of the simpler setups that could be going on in his flat, but it was still a shock to mortals witnessing it for the first time.

“What…”

“Harry, why don’t you sit down? Lemme finish this, and then we’ll talk.” At this point, his protection was more important than whatever potential shock he was in. While her heart was sort of breaking from the concerned look on his face, she needed to do this.

Harry stumbled into the first chair in his living room, sort of sliding himself into it over the arm, never taking his eyes off of her. “What is…this, exactly?”

With a snap, the artificial overhead lights went out again, and a wave of the hand brought the candles back up to full flame. “A protective ward. A simple spell, but you can’t interrupt me, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head in a sort of mindless, perpetual motion, muttering some sort of affirmations to himself under his breath. Andie was sure he was trying to convince himself this was all normal, but she didn’t really have time to fret over him in that moment. She had more important business to complete.

Andie raised her hands out, palm down, over the center of her tapestry again, and she began reciting the incantation quickly under her breath. Harry watched as the flames in the candles grew brighter and larger as her chanting went on, admittedly getting concerned when they started flickering violently, like there was a strong gust of wind in the room. Adversely, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere, a ringing taking up residence in his ears. Andie’s eyes were darting back and forth quickly under her lids, lashes fluttering. Sparks of electricity seemed to be erupting from the ends of her fingers, creating a crackling, static sensation in the room. Harry felt like his skin was tingling. He was in too much of a daze to really be concerned about anything, though. His best friend was currently doing what was arguably magic in his living room.

Andie’s volume of muttering rose until she was speaking at regular volume, and the light of the flames seemed to brighten to almost that of natural daylight. Harry sunk himself deeper into the cushion of the chair he’d claimed as the spell seemed to be coming to a head. The energy surged in the room, making the hairs on Harry’s body stand on end. A cold chill flashed down his spine as her chanting stopped and Andie’s eyes flashed open to meet his just before the candles all blew out at once. There was no mistaking it. Her eyes had been glowing a bright purple in that second before everything went dark.

~*~*~*~*~

Harry had remained silent and unmoving the entire time Andie had been cleaning up from her spell. She could have just magically whisked everything into her bag, but she figured one magical happening was enough for the night.

She had gotten him a glass of water and placed it into his amazingly steady hands. Then she’d helped him from his seat and walked with him to his bedroom. He seemed to still be in shock, so she’d laid him down in his bed, back where he’d rumpled the sheets from earlier, and turned to leave. She could understand his despondency, so she was going to give him the night to sleep it off, and if in the morning he wanted her to piss off, she’d leave. But for now, she would stick by him, just in case.

“Wait,” Harry called, his hand grabbing her wrist as she’d turned to walk out of his room.

Andromeda looked down to his hand that was burning into her skin, up his arm and to his face, his head already resting on the pillow. He’d lost that vacant look in his eyes and he was now looking at her like he always had: with a little bit of adoration and a lot of honest interest. The bright green of his eyes scanned over her face, most likely looking for something that would make her look like the monster she was sure he thought she was after everything he’d witnessed. She never wanted Harry to think she was anything else but just herself, but she wouldn’t blame him if he told her to leave and never come back. It wasn’t easy to deal with and accept that your best friend from the last couple years was a witch. Not even Harry could feasibly be that understanding.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” he said bluntly.

Andie’s eyebrows furrowed. “How did you…”

“I can see it on your face,” he shrugged. “And I know you. I don’t hate you. I’m shocked as fuck, but I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Andromeda let her eyes roam over his face for several moments, taking in his smooth features. He looked okay, as far as external emotions went, and he was verbally telling her that he was okay. She supposed she had no choice but to believe him. He still had to know why he had walked in on her doing magic in his living room, though. “I’m just trying to protect you,” she whispered.

“From what?” Harry asked. His thumb was now gently gliding over Andie’s wrist where his hand was still clasped.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Andie could tell from the look of determination in his eyes that she wasn’t going to get out of this one. When Harry had his heart set on something, it was very hard to get him off the scent.

With a sigh, she gently shook off Harry’s grip and bent down to take off her socks and then her jeans. She should have been more apprehensive about slipping into Harry’s bed without her trousers on, but, honestly, it was a semi-regular occurrence when they had sleepovers. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice her comfort for some weird perception of modesty.

She slid under the covers Harry was holding up, nestling in on the pillow his own head was occupying. He dropped the blankets back over her, and she pulled it up to just under her chin. She felt Harry’s warm feet slide past her own, and she didn’t hesitate to tuck her toes between his calfs. For all the energy constantly flowing through her body, her toes were always frozen. And Harry was always hot. It was a no-brainer.

“Where should I start?”

It took Andie nearly an hour to get through her explanation to Harry, the whole time silently thanking him for remaining quiet and holding off to ask all the questions she could see swimming in his eyes. When she finally sighed after she finished, he surprised her by not asking all those questions she was sure he had been holding back the whole time. Instead, he just slung an arm around her waist, pulled her closer as he let his eyes fall shut, and whispered a quiet thanks. Andie was shocked by his behavior, but not enough to let it prevent her from swiftly falling asleep, comfortably resting in his arms.

~*~*~*~*~

“So the whole witch trials thing in America?”

“I mean, it’s possible someone was actually a witch, but as far as any witch history can tell, they were just victims of a crazy strict Christian society that saw anything that was “other” as bad and dubbed it as witchcraft. There’s a chance someone was practicing hoodoo or something similar, but we don’t think there were any legitimate witches there.”

“And hoodoo is different from witchcraft?”

Andie took a sip from her latte before answering. “They’re both magic, technically, but they garner their power from different sources. Hoodoo is mostly based in the spiritual, sort of like a religion. There’s a lot of tie to the afterlife and the power passed beings can offer. Whereas witchcraft is based on the existing energy in the earth and its creations. Every living being on earth has the ability to harness this energy, witches were just bred inadvertently to have better control. When I cast spells, I can feel it in my every cell.”

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful as he peered down into the hot chocolate he’d ordered. “I sort of noticed that last night. I could physically feel it run through my body when you’d completed the spell.”

Andie hummed. “It’s not uncommon for the recipient of a spell, especially protective ones, to experience an energy transfer upon completion of the ritual. In a nutshell, I’ve connected my magical energy to you in order to keep you protected from any sort of magical harm. As best as I can anyway. Some magical and supernatural entities have a bit more power than I can put into a basic warding spell.”

“And I’m reckoning wraiths are one of those entities.”

Harry and Andie locked eyes, and she was reluctant to nod her confirmation.

The duo had stayed up until nearly three in the morning, Andromeda best explaining what she could about her being a witch and why it was that she was taking extra steps to put a protective ward around Harry. He’d accepted it easily enough, but she was pretty sure it was just because he was starting to drift off into sleep.

When they’d woken that morning, she was expecting to be in bed alone, Harry off somewhere freaking out over everything that had happened in the wee hours of the morning. Instead, she’d opened her eyes and immediately been confronted with Harry’s own green ones, seeming nearly translucent in the morning light steaming through his window. Their legs were tangled together, so tightly that Andie wasn’t really sure who's limbs were who’s. Their noses were nearly touching, both their heads resting on one pillow despite Harry having a pretty spacious queen bed. And while they’d woken up plenty of times snuggled together after a sleep over, they’d never woken up that close.

If Harry was startled by it, it didn’t show. He’d simply smiled at her before placing a soft kiss on her nose. He’d suggested heading to the cafe around the block for breakfast, and here they were, only twenty minutes later.

Andie wasn’t really sure what to make of it, but she was going to act like it was any other day if that was the way Harry wanted to play it.

“Unfortunately.”

“What about them is so special?” Harry wondered, swirling his mug, most likely to mix up some of the chocolate that had settled at the bottom.

“Wraiths are created when dark magic goes wrong. Usually a resurrection ritual. If it’s performed incorrectly or the witch isn’t channeling enough energy from the right sources, something goes haywire, and the result is a manifestation of all that, since it can’t be channeled to whatever resurrection the witch was trying to perform.”

“There’s a difference in magic types?” Harry asked, his brows puckering in confusion. Andie would think it was adorable if they weren’t in the middle of a very serious conversation.

Who was she kidding? She thought it was adorable regardless of the topic.

“Of course. I like to think of magic like the internet.” Andie grabbed a napkin from the dispenser at the end of the table and looked for a pen in her purse. Coming up empty, she glanced at Harry and pressed a finger to her lips, telling him to keep quiet about what she was about to do. She rubbed her fingers together before pressing the tip of her pointer finger to the napkin. It started writing like a pen onto the paper, and Harry emitted a startled gasp before quieting down.

Andie drew out a triangle and then a line through the top of the shape, imitating an iceberg in water.

“The tip is the surface magic. It’s about ten percent of the entire magical ability of the universe.” She drew an arrow to the small section at the top and labeled it. “Hypothetically speaking, anyone can access this part of magic if they really wanted to and dedicated their time to learning how. But all witches can harness this magic pretty effortlessly. Some spells are a little harder than others, but it should be no real strain on a witch.”

She drew a dotted line about halfway through the rest of the triangle that was under the waterline she’d drawn. She made another label for the center portion. “This is what we’ll call advanced magic. This can only be accessed with dedication and an ability to harness energy from other sources, like the earth and crystals and natural phenomena. New moon, blood moon, eclipses, all that. It’s a bit more of a stretch for most witches, but it can be achieved with a bit of hard work. Witches with an inherently stronger bloodline can pretty easily access this portion.”

Andie finally circled the lowest portion. “And this is dark magic. It’s all the stuff that betrays the laws of nature. Necromancy, possession, time travel, teleportation. When a witch fucks it up somehow, bad things can happen. Usually to the witch trying to perform the ritual, but sometimes to nature itself. Thus, wraiths are created.”

“And now I’ve got the result of botched dark magic following me around?” Andie nodded. “Love that for myself.”

Andie couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped. Harry wasn’t one to commonly use popular slang or phrases, so when he did, it was startlingly hilarious.

“While I’m glad you can joke about it, it’s not something to take lightly. I’m workin’ on getting some information about how to get rid of it. Either just disconnecting it from you or putting it back in whatever hell hole it came from.”

“Considerin’ that thing was made from dark magic, sounds like gettin’ rid of it is gonna be hard,” Harry sighed, pushing his mug away from him.

Andie paused. How was she going to tell her best friend that she was part of the most pure witch bloodline in the world? That her mother was pretty much the strongest witch that had ever lived? That she herself was bound for that same tier once she hit her twenty-fifth birthday? It wasn’t exactly something you just drop on an unsuspecting mortal. Though, she supposed you didn’t just tell them you were a witch, either. Given the extenuating circumstances, maybe it wasn’t the most shocking thing he’d heard that day. And hopefully all the revelations wouldn’t get her in trouble with her mum or the council. She had an obligation to protect the mortal world from any magical threat, and Harry was her best friend.

“Can we go back to mine?” Andie suggested. She grabbed the napkin she’d drawn on and crumpled it up in her fist before shoving it in her pocket. No need for any curious waitress to come along and see that.

“Sure. Wanna go get my car?” Harry asked.

Andie shook her head. “No, follow me.”

“Andie, your flat is a ten minute drive. That’s nearly an hour walk.”

“Who said anything about walking?”

“Please tell me you’ve got a broom.”

Andie laughed and shook her head, leading him out the doors and into a deserted alley.

~*~*~*~*~

“I thought you said teleportation was dark magic.”

“There’s ways around most of the magical no-no’s,” Andie shrugged, dropping her bag by her front door. “Conjuring a portal is not technically teleportation. It requires an already established ending point. So, this mirror, for example.” She pointed at the mirror right by the front door of her flat that they’d just stepped through. “I’ve bewitched it to act as a portal. I can arrive to it from any given location, and I can use it to access other portals. But I can’t just decide in the middle of my day to pop into Paris for an afternoon trip. Unless I knew a specific portal location.”

Harry gazed at the mirror for a few moments, probably trying to see if there was anything physically out of the ordinary from any other vertical mirror he’d ever seen. He eventually gave a short nod and said, “Neat.”

Andie started the kettle on the stove as she regaled to Harry the importance of her family line.

“My family can be traced back to, like…the inception of witches,” she told him. “And there’s only three families that can say that. So, those three families have always made up the council, as well as elected witches from prominent covens.”

“You have a council?” Harry asked, tucking himself beside her as she prepared their teas. Her kitchen wasn’t very big, so it wasn’t difficult to be in each other’s space, but this was intentional. He’d pressed himself into the sliver of space between where she stood and the counter, not seeming to have any care that her elbow was brushing against him with every move that she made.

“Witches need governing bodies, Harry,” she said pointedly. “Why do you think dark magic is considered taboo? That wasn’t just something every witch decided on independently. In the early nineteenth century, it was voted on by the council that the usage of dark magic is punishable by death, if that witch hadn’t killed themselves in the process.”

“This sounds a lot like that season of American Horror Story,” he commented.

Andie smirked. Harry and her had watched all the seasons together on Netflix the previous summer.

“Sort of,” she shrugged. “We have rules and laws and our own judicial system, essentially. But the whole competition for Supreme thing and those weird tests aren’t true.”

“So no, like, Queen Witch, then?”

Andie bobbled her head around, a mix between and nod and a shake. “Not necessarily. Some witches are more powerful than others, based on bloodline. But that doesn’t give them superiority over other witches.”

“And I’m guessin’ you’re in one of those bloodlines.”

She glanced over at him while pouring the water in their mugs, trying to gauge his reaction. His face was almost annoyingly still, betraying no real emotion beside his genuine interest. There was no telling what he was really thinking. Considering all that he’d been made privy to, Andie reckoned this stuff was easy.

“Yeah. My mum is the oldest living female of the succession, so she’s considered the most powerful. And as her daughter, I’m second in line.”

“Do men ever possess that title?”

She shook her head. “No. Not unless there are no other females. So like, if I had a brother, and both my mum and I died, he’d acquire that power.”

“What if you never have kids? What happens then?”

“My mum has two younger sisters. The line would fall to her and her children.”

“So, it’s kinda a royal family situation?”

“Pretty much. Except female-oriented.”

“Why is that? Do you know?”

Andie handed off his tea, prepared just the way he liked it, with a dash of milk and one spoonful of sugar. Andie preferred hers plain.

“It’s got to do with females being able to bear children, and their inherent connection with the earth because of it.”

Harry was quiet for a few moments, seeming to finally take a moment to think things over. Andie ushered him into her living room, where Beelzebub was napping contently on the arm of her couch. Darn thing hadn’t even stirred when Andie and Harry had stepped into the room, simply opening one eye to see who it was. When he’d deemed them nonthreatening, he’d closed it and went back to sleep.

After nearly five whole minutes of silence, Harry spoke up.

“Is this all to say that if anyone can get this fuckin’ thing off my back, it’s you?”

Andie paused before giving him a reluctant nod. “Yep.”

He was quiet again, staring pensively into his tea, which he’d only taken a couple tentative sips out of. Suddenly, but with a sureness Andie was almost surprised to see out of him, Harry reached his hand out and grabbed onto the one she had resting in her lap. He slotted their fingers together and gave it a brief, tight squeeze before looking up at her.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

~*~*~*~*~

Until Andie got some answers or leads, she insisted that Harry stay with her in her flat when he wasn’t in class or at work. She was hoping that the ward she’d put up around him, as well as the protections she’d put up around her flat were enough to keep the wraith far enough away to let Harry carry on like normal. It seemed to be working, as she’d never seen the thing more than one hundred yards away at any given time. And when Harry couldn’t be in the protection of her home or in her presence, she sent Bub with him to keep an eye on him and alert her if anything was wrong. Luckily, it’d been a week and nothing tragic or harrowing had happened as of yet. She knew she couldn’t become comfortable in the mundane, but she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

She’d received a call from Sarah a few days prior, letting her know that she’d contacted someone who might have some insight, and she was just waiting for them to be available to come to the UK. The witch was apparently a pretty prominent facet in a large American coven, so she had her hands full, but she was trying to arrange things to help Andromeda. She was glad to hear that something had panned out, but it seemed like now it was a waiting game.

However, for as anxious as Sia was about getting answers and keeping Harry safe until that time, she was actually really enjoying being with Harry so often. While they hung out regularly before, now it was amplified. They were living together, for all intents and purposes. When she got home from class, Harry was there, revising at the kitchen table. When she got hungry, Harry helped her prepare food or called into a local restaurant to order take out. When she woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of Harry singing in the shower—beautifully, she might add. It was really unfair how amazing Harry was at pretty much everything he did.

Spending all this time together was really playing with Andie’s emotions, though.

Since she didn’t have an extra bedroom, Andie and Harry shared a bed each night, so they fell asleep next to each other, and if neither of them had an early class, they woke up together. Harry was usually awake first, so Andie would wake to his leg brushing against hers and the back of his fingers brushing her hair away from her face. And the way he would look at her when he woke her like that…she couldn’t describe it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to describe it. She was thinking too far into it would leave her with a perpetual migraine.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Harry to have the feelings she knew he was harboring. She harbored them herself, admittedly. All his little touches and the way his eyes would linger on her when she came or went from any room would make the butterflies in her stomach take manic flight. She loved every second of his attention, but she kept trying to convince herself that nothing could come of it. While it wasn’t uncommon that witches had relationships with mortals, she didn’t want to put Harry at more risk than she already had with the whole wraith situation. With the type of power that Andie possessed, dark forces liked to follow her around. It was only natural that they would sense the weakness of a mortal and latch onto him. She didn’t want that. She had to protect him. Partially because she had a moral obligation but mostly because she loved him.

Her love for Harry had never been more apparent and strong than the last week they’d been in close contact nearly 24/7. And there was no denying that she’d been in love with him for nearly as long as she’d known him. She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore, let alone her friends, both mortal and witch. Sarah never let her forget it, and while they were keeping from Niall that they were currently staying together, he seemed to be picking up on it whenever all three of them were together. Andie could see the knowing look in his eye any time Andie would laugh at one of Harry’s stupid jokes and place a hand on his arm, or when she would reach over and wipe something from his face with no hesitation. She steadfastly avoided Niall’s gaze when she knew he was giving her a pointed look. She didn’t want to give anything away in her guilty look.

“What are you thinkin’ so hard about?”

Andromeda gasped and gave a little yelp, nearly jumping a mile in the air. She whirled around from her spot at the stove where she was browning some ground beaf in order to make some spaghetti for dinner. She slapped at Sarah’s arms a few times in retaliation, groaning out her frustration with her friend just popping in unannounced and scaring the shit out of her.

“Jesus Christ, S! Make some fuckin’ noise, will ya? Gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.”

“Sorry, figured you’d heard me,” she shrugged, peering over Andie’s shoulder to see what she had going on the stove. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be quiet.”

“I wasn’t paying attention, and I sent Bub out with Harry.”

“That’s what I’m here about,” she said. “Why are you makin’ this by hand?” she added as an afterthought.

“Just because I can use magic, doesn’t mean I should,” Andie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I like cooking. Anyway, what have you got?”

“Got word from my source,” Sarah said, watching as Andie filled up a pot of water to put on to boil. “Said she’ll be here by Wednesday. Wants to make sure your portal will zap her in from America.”

“There’s no restriction on distance, as long as I accept the transportation request. Have her send it over, and I’ll get it done.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Does she have concrete answers?”

Sarah was silent for more than a few beats, so Andie looked to her after she’d lit the burner under the water. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, her ultimate tell for her anxiety.

“What is it?” Andie asked, dread filling her stomach.

“She has answers, but there’s no guarantee that it’ll work,” Sarah said hesitantly. Andie was working extra hard on not letting her sinking emotions get the better of her. She didn’t have time to freak out. “There’s no official records of successful wraith banishments.”

“Just because they’re not recorded doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.”

“Exactly,” Sarah agreed with a succinct nod. “My source claims to have witnessed one, and she has a text from the early seventeenth century that outlines a ritual that is supposed to do the job. I haven’t seen what it entails, but it’s worth a shot.”

Andie blew up her cheeks and let out the breath between pursed lips. She turned off the burner for the meat before looking back to Sarah. She nodded.

“Okay. Just let me know what time on Wednesday. I have class at eleven. I’ll skip if I have to. I’m sure Harry would, too.”

Sarah agreed just as the front door of Andie’s flat opened, Harry sort of stumbling in the door with his book bag and a few bags of groceries, Bub sneaking in behind him just before he closed the door. He hung his keys on the hooks near the portal/mirror and toed off his shoes.

“Hey, I know you’re makin’ spaghetti tonight, so I picked up some French bread and a couple bottles of wine. And I also got stuff to make chicken parmesan tomorrow. Oh, and some more coffee creamer. I used the last of it this morning.”

Harry didn’t realise there was someone else in the kitchen until he walked through the doorway, stopping short when he saw Sarah standing beside Andie. They’d never met before, as Andie had always tried her hardest to keep her witch friends and coven away from her mortal friends. It was easier to keep track of conversations that way, and it prevented any slip-ups beyond Andie’s control. While she trusted her coven with her life, she couldn’t control what came out of their mouths, and she couldn’t risk that around her mortal friends.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, eyes glancing between Andie and Sarah, obviously a bit confused.

“Harry, this is my friend, Sarah. Sarah, Harry,” Andie quickly introduced.

Harry and Sarah exchanged pleasantries, and Andie could see that Harry quickly realised that Sarah was also a witch, not just some random friend she’d never introduced or brought around.

“You staying for dinner?” Andie asked Sarah as Harry unloaded the groceries he’d brought home.

“Nah, just wanted to pop in and update you on what was goin’ on,” Sarah declined. “If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Andie bid her friend farewell and watched as she disappeared through the portal.

“Is she in the same coven as you?” Harry asked? He flitted around the kitchen to get the bread-cutting knife and a cutting board as he waited for her to answer.

“Yeah, she’s a couple years older than us, but we’ve always gotten along really well. And she’s travelled a lot, so she’s got a lot of connections. She’s our go-to when we need contacts.”

“She the one that’s trying to get ahold of someone to help with the wraith thing?”

Andie added the spaghetti to the boiling water as she nodded. “That’s what she was here about. The other witch will be here Wednesday. Hopefully, we’ll have some concrete answers soon.” She didn’t want to tell him about the lack of substantial evidence that any of it would work. No need to stress him out when he’d been handling all of it so well up to that point.

“Well, I can afford to miss a couple classes if I need to,” he assured.

“I figured. I’ll let you know when I get a better idea of when she’ll be here.”

The changed the conversation after that, talking about their days as they finished up dinner. Harry helped her plate the food and take it to the table before pouring two glasses of wine. Harry asked if they could play some music, so Andie asked him what album he wanted. They agreed on the Rumours album, and with a wave of her hand, the record player set itself up and started playing the album softly through the speakers around her telly.

Harry asked her about the abilities she had that weren’t related to specific spells and incantations. She explained that it came with the “powerful bloodline” thing, as not all witches had the sort of telekinetic abilities she did. It could be learned, sure, but it would never be like the natural ability Andie and her family had.

By the time they finished dinner, they’d finished the bottle of wine Harry had opened before they sat down. While Andie was not even close to drunk, she was pleasantly buzzy, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much at Harry’s stupid jokes and wild stories about people he came into contact with at his job at the record store near campus.

Andie was still chuckling at Harry’s last joke when she took their plates to the sink to rinse them off and load the dishwasher. Harry was quiet, and Andie figured he was going to turn off the record player or something, so she startled when she felt hands on her waist, not gripping, just gently resting.

“I’ll do the dishes since you cooked,” Harry offered, his voice quiet, nearly drowned out by the music that still played in the living room.

“No, it’s fine,” Andie denied. “It’s like three dishes, and I’m nearly done.”

“Then just let me finish.”

Andie chuckled again, turning off the faucet. “Harry, really.” She turned to look at him, and the sound that was in her mouth died when she saw the look on his face.

Harry didn’t say anything, either. His eyes flit over her face, probably taking in the slight widening of her eyes at her surprise and the way her lips were gently parted from the words fading from her lips when she’d turned around. His left hand left her waist and reached up to push her hair back from her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. He let his fingers linger, tracing over her jaw.

The buzz that had been lingering in her veins quickly dissipated in favor of the static Harry’s fingers were zapping into her skin. Andie gasped lightly as his index caressed her bottom lip.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered.

Harry stepped closer to her, pushing the small of her back into the edge of the sink and placing his thigh between both of hers.

Andie thought if Harry ever gathered the courage to kiss her or start anything with her, she would deny him. In the nicest way possible, of course, because Harry was a sweet baby angel who was too pure for this world, but it would still have to happen. She didn’t want to get him tangled up with anything that could be dangerous for him.

But that was the exact opposite of what she was doing now that the situation had actually presented itself. When Harry leaned down and barely brushed his lips against hers, she was the one who leaned forward and pressed harder, effectively pulling them both into a kiss that had both of their hearts racing. Andie was the one to wind her arms around his neck and reach up onto her toes so Harry wouldn’t have to lean down so far. She was the one that sifted her fingers through the cute little curls at the back of his neck and pull him tighter into her. She was the first one to dart her tongue out, swiping lithely at his bottom lip, and gave a little satisfied moan when he opened to her, his tongue meeting with her own.

Though she wasn’t sure who it was that led them down the hallway to her bedroom, their mouths still pressed firmly together. She did know, however, that Harry was the one that closed her bedroom door, shadowing them in darkness. Andie didn’t hesitate to swipe her hand and light the candles that were scattered around her room.

With a light shove, Andie plopped on her bum to the bed. She scooted back further into the center, watching as Harry stood at the edge, watching her closely. Andie was sure she’d never seen Harry so serious and still, save for the light heaving of his chest.

“You sure?” Harry asked, his voice nearly a whole octave deeper than it usually was, a slight growl to it.

Andie nodded.

Harry proceeded to provide Andie with the most scintillating strip tease she’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. While that probably wasn’t his intention, watching as he shucked his cosy jumper to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath, then watching him peel that off to reveal every inch of his toned stomach and broad chest, along with all the dark ink that was scattered over his smooth skin was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

He paused after removing his shoes and socks, his hands poised at the fly of his jeans. He looked up at Andie from under his lashes, looking her over from head to toe.

“You gonna join me? Or am I gonna be naked on my own?”

Andie swallowed hard, a little surprised and a lot aroused by the commanding tone in Harry’s voice. She quickly reached to take pull her shirt over her head and then wiggle off the skirt she was wearing, leaving her in her knickers and the thigh-high socks. When Andie reached around to undo her bra, Harry finally un buttoned his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, finally letting Andie see all of him. When she saw his cock, standing stiff and proud from between his hips, she gasped.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, but not quiet enough to prevent Harry from hearing. He was big—a lot bigger than any other man she’d ever been with, and while it was a bit daunting, it only served to excite her more.

Harry smirked at her before kneeling on the bed, making his way between Andie’s legs. He ran his hands from her ankles, over the soft material of her stalkings, up to her exposed skin of her upper thighs and hips, before hooking his fingers into the lacy material of her panties. He looked up at her as he leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh.

He made quick work of pulling her panties off and tossed them off the side of the bed. Andie went to peel her socks off, but Harry caught her hands.

“Leave ‘em on.”

Andie nodded and pulled her hands away, leaning back into the pillows that were propped up on her headboard. Harry followed her, resting his hips against hers and using his elbows beside her head to hover over her. He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue once along her lips before trailing his own across her jaw and down her neck, placing a teasing bite at the junction between her shoulder and her neck. Goosebumps rose along her arms.

She ran her hands down Harry’s back, gently gliding over the muscles as they tensed and relaxed with his movements. He skimmed his lips along her collarbone and down the center of her chest, taking a detour to her left breast, and then her right, laving his tongue and teeth over her erect nipples, pulling little mewls and moans from her mouth. He drug licking kisses down her stomach, stopping briefly to place a kiss just below her navel, but continuing his pace down to her mound.

He pressed a light peck to the hood of her clit before sliding his tongue out to lap at her folds. He moaned as her tangy flavour burst across his tastebuds. She was already wet, despite them not doing much but kissing and lightly touching. He couldn’t wait to get more of her in his mouth.

With that little taste, he couldn’t stop himself from completely covering her with his mouth. Andie shivered as he darted his tongue into her entrance, gathering her arousal before drawing the tip up and flicking lightly at her bud. Andie shot her hands into his hair, pressing his head closer to her center. Harry took the hint and took a broader lick at her clit before pursing his lips around it, giving it a cursory suck. Andie moaned loud, dropping her head back into the pillows. Her fingers tugged at Harry’s curls now, hips thrusting up to meet his pulsing sucks. He wound his arms around her thighs, keeping her close to him as he buried his face into her sweet center. He couldn’t withhold his own moans as more of her arousal flooded into his mouth, her hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. He swapped his mouth for three of his fingers, rubbing swiftly at her clit as he pushed his tongue into her entrance.

Andie took a shuddering breath. She was completely overwhelmed with his attention, on the verge of falling over the edge. His grip on her thighs were preventing her from rubbing more vigorously against his mouth and fingers. She needed more though.

“Harry, please,” she gasped. “Need more.”

He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her, licking his lips. “What do you need, love?”

Andie didn’t realise when the words, “Choke me,” came out of her mouth. She didn’t have time to process it and be embarrassed, though. Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, before he leaned back down to wrap his lips back around her clit. The fingers that were previously rubbing at it moved to enter her, two sliding in easily with how wet she was for him.

She let her head drop back, reveling in the new sensation of Harry’s fingers rubbing at the soft spongy spot inside her. She hummed when his free hand trailed from it’s place around her thigh, up her stomach and chest, and eventually around her throat. His fingers deftly found each of her veins running up her neck, applying light pressure. That mixed with the weight of his palm resting against the center of her throat was exactly what she needed to finally succumb to her pleasure.

Harry moaned against her center as her walls clenched against his fingers and her wetness coated his chin and palm. He kept rubbing and sucking her through it, Andie eventually having to shove him away by the crown of his head.

He crawled up her body, pressing sporadic kisses as she came down from her high. Her legs bent up to cradle Harry’s hips against her own, bucking up into the feeling of his erection resting against the curve of her pelvis. Harry groaned into the curve of her neck before pressing a kiss to her jugular. He drew his knees up on either side of her hips and wrapped his arms around her back, pressing their chests together and lifting her so she was straddling him.

“Want you like this,” he sighed into her mouth.

“Okay,” Andie agreed. She had no hesitation in reaching between them to take ahold of his cock and place it at her entrance. Slowly, she sank down on him until they were flush against each other. They moaned into each others mouths.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Harry panted.

“So fuckin’ big,” Andie returned smiling into his neck.

Harry snickered as he thrust his hips up into her, causing her to gasp.

Andie got the hint and started rocking her hips against his, groaning each time he hit the deepest part of her. They were in a position that had her clit perfectly rubbing against his pubic bone. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep up the position, but she was going to really enjoy it while it lasted.

Harry helped her along by gripping her hips and propelling her motion, keeping his head buried in her neck, licking at kissing at her skin between his moans. When he realised she couldn’t keep it up any longer, he laid her back down on the bed, lifting her legs by the back of her knees, pressing her thighs into her chest. His cock was so hard that he had no trouble sliding back into her with no aid.

“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he grunted. “Like the way I fuck your cunt, darlin’?”

His hips were pounding into her so hard Andie had to reach up to brace her hands against her headboard to avoid bashing her head into it. Of all the ways she’d imagined Harry would be in bed, this was not it. He was always so gentle and kind, so seeing his muscles all bunched with effort and his skin shiny with sweat and the words coming out of his mouth and the strength behind each of his thrusts…it was a lot.

Andie sobbed out a moan when he brought one of his hands down to rub his thumb along her clit in a quick flicking motion. Her orgasm barreled through her, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she lost her breath. Harry didn’t slow through her climax, simply just forced his hips harder to overcome the strong clenching of her walls around him. He was barely keeping it together, since she was so tight, but he was determined to draw at least one more from her before he finished himself.

“So fuckin’ beautiful when you come for me, pet.”

Harry withdrew himself as he tried to catch his breath. He tapped on her hip to get her attention, motioning for her to roll over onto her stomach. She nodded before gracelessly flopping over, only being careful enough not to accidentally knee him in the junk. That would be a tragedy in the middle of all this.

He grabbed her by the hips to lift her onto her knees, keeping her chest pressed to the bed. He asked her for his hands and gathered her wrists in one of his fists at the small of her back. He used the leverage to draw her back onto his cock, his balls slapping against her skin. Her moans were load even when muffled into her pillows as Harry drove into her at a punishing pace. Andie’s hands flailed in his grasp, trying to find purchase on something to grip onto in her haze of pleasure. Harry saw this and released her wrists to clasp one of her hands with his, her other one reaching down beside her to grip at her sheets.

“Harry,” she gasped when he changed positions, angling his hips so he was hitting that sensitive spot inside of her. She got that telltale sensation that she had only experienced by herself before, that full feeling and that tingling pleasure that said she was going to explode. “I’m gonna…”

He reached under her with his free hand and rubbed against her clit, too close to his own orgasm to keep her on the edge.

Andie couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a few sure passes of his fingers and his unrelenting pace, Andie was cumming harder than she was pretty sure she ever had, especially with anyone else. Liquid pulsed from her body in rhythm with Harry’s thrusts. She was moaning out unintelligible words.

It took Harry a few seconds to realise that she was ejaculating all over his thighs and her sheets. If the strong fluttering of her pussy was enough to send him over, then seeing the evidence of her orgasm all over his skin was really overkill. His stomach clenched hard, forcing him to double over on top of her, pressing his chest to her back. He laid sucking kisses to her shoulders as he came down, both of them panting and sweaty.

After several moments, Harry pulled his hips from hers, breaking them apart with a groan. He flopped onto his back beside her, pulling her off her knees and into his chest. Her pale skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat and her pupils were still blown out when she looked at him. She licked her lips before smiling coyly at him.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” she told him.

Harry smiled and pushed her hair back from her face like he had in the kitchen earlier, which had led to their time in bed. He pressed a quick but passionate kiss on her lips before saying, “Me, too.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #halloween fic #witch!au #witch!ofc

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holylangdon · 6 years

Text

To Hell With The Devil (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Request: “can you do a Michael Langdon smut where the reader is shy and innocent and he has this obsession and need to r u i n her” - @witchchester

“Heyo. Can u write about Michael taking someone’s V-card during her interview at the out post? I’m a white mans whore 😭😂” - Anon

“Hi… I don’t know if this exists but… Can you please write story about Reader and Michael Langdon…. They meet in outpost… And get to know each other…. I’ll leave it up to you if they end up together” - Anon

“Hey baby could you do more Michael Langdon smut? I'm thirsty for more hihi” - @the-devils-littlegirl

“Could you please make an imagine of Michael and Y/n like a little smut but mostly Y/n teasing him and not giving him more? You’re imagines are amazing !” - Anon

“Hey, can u do a Michael Langdon x reader smut, that he falls in love with her? Fluffy and smut please!! I love your blog and yours imagines!! Sorry for the bad english, im not fluent so eheh!! Thank you ♡” - Anon

Warnings: Fem!Reader, virgin!Reader/experienced!Michael, soft!dom Michael, slightly off-request, religious references/puns, lovey vibes, low effort ending

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hey demons, it’s ya girl Dany

(I MADE THIS GIF MYSELF AREN’T YOU PROUD)

Michael sat on the edge of his bed, sighting lightly, his head resting against his palm. He kept replaying the interviews over and over in his head… And yours specifically.

There was something odd about you. He could almost taste the saccharine on his tongue when you looked at him, deep into some story he had asked you to tell to keep your virgin lips moving. They were all he was able to pay attention to as he got lost in his own thoughts for a moment.

His mind was flooded with thoughts that he could barely contain to himself. He found himself wanting to absolutely destroy you in every way possible. Sexually, mentally, physically. To bring you to ruins before him. You were the angel on the painted glass in his mind, pure, untouched perfection.

He wasn’t a saint. Far from it. In fact, he was as far as you could possibly get from a saint. But he found himself wishing to be so he could cleanse himself of the images flooding his brain. He wanted nothing more than to be able to actually focus on you in front of him, the words coming out of your mouth… And the cycle began again. It felt like an unending daydream as he guided himself on autopilot through the interrogation.

It wasn't until later, just before you were about to leave that he asked one final, conscious question.

"Are you sexually attracted to me?"

Now, he stood just outside of your bedroom door. He knocked gently, keeping his form professional in case any suspicious eyes happened to catch him. After all, it was almost midnight. He should've been fast asleep in his own bed but instead, he found himself hoping to sleep in yours.

The door clicked open to reveal your beautiful face. "Langdon?" You were shocked to find the man standing there, his coat loosely tossed over his night clothes. God, he already wanted to satisfy you, body and soul. He felt like he was just yours as you pulled him into the room, letting the door close with a thud. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He remembered the rosy blush on your cheeks and the look in your eye when you softly answered him, your gaze dropping to the floor. He simply adored the soft look on your face as you nodded, letting him bask in the warm feeling of lust that slowly engulfed his body. It started in his toes, slowly moving up, up, up until it reached his neck. Michael was in heaven as he released you from the locked room, watching you walk away quietly.

"I wanted to see you." He stated, repeating his mental mantra.

I will not have sex with Y/N. I will not have sex with Y/N. Even if she begs for it, I will not have sex with Y/N.

Your face contorted into confusion as he took a step closer to you, letting his hands rest on your waist. His lips pressed to yours gently, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't take it. Instead, you let your hands roam his body, feeling the soft cotton t-shirt on his torso. He began to play with the band of your shorts, letting it smack against your skin a moment later as he took his hand away. "Let's take off your shirt?"

His tone was loving, and almost questioning. You nodded, breaking the kiss to let him lift the fabric above your head. You could see his bright blue eyes go darker as he looked over you, a small smile on lips. Michael was restraining himself, but from what you weren't sure. You could only imagine the deep, dark things he harbored in his mind.

Somehow, you ended up on the bed, sitting over his lap. His shirt was missing and his hot mouth was peppering sloppy kisses onto your throat, his hand crawling closer and closer to the heat that pooled between your legs. Your fingers found their way to his hair, needing something to keep you here, to keep you from drifting off into space as he tried to push you towards the edge.

You hadn't ever had sex before, and certainly didn't expect to in the post-nuclear winter world. Sure, you'd done other stuff with your previous boyfriends, but you could never bring yourself to go all the way. The one night that you had almost gotten to third base, you just couldn't do it. It felt too foreign, too disconnected. But this... This was far from anything you'd felt before. It was pure bliss as he slid your panties to the side, giving him access to what he needed. He carefully slicked his finger through your wetness before gliding over your clit, making you shiver as a small moan bubbled up your throat.

That sound was music to his ears, just barely enough to drive him wild. He wanted more, and he wanted it bad. He found himself weak as you moaned again. Fuck the mantra. Fuck it.

It felt like mere seconds before he was sliding two of his fingers into you, eliciting more sounds and unholy words to fall from your precious pink lips. He knew that it didn't take much for a virgin girl to come, and that certainly held true for you as you almost came undone under his touch.

"It's ok, baby. Let go." He whispered into your ear, the hot breath sending a chill down your spine. "Come for me."

And with that, he coaxed you gently through your orgasm. He was shocked when moments later you reached for the strings to his sweatpants. They hung loosely off of his hips and you could clearly see the outline of his hard cock. Michael hadn’t expected you to make that move, truly. But he found it attractive, which was unusual for him. He was typically your stereotypical dominant male, but he felt gentle when he looked at you. Kind.

Your hand wrapped around his length, a sharp gasp leaving his lips. How you made him feel was utterly indescribable when your thumb glided over the head, slick with his pre-cum. A guttural groan bubbled up his throat. He couldn't take it anymore. You had officially driven him to certifiable insanity.

In one, swift motion, he managed to have you pinned beneath him. You wore an excited smile and his lips connected with yours once more, but the man pulled away quickly.

"You'll be a good girl for me?" His hot breath on your ear was damn near enough to push you to the edge again. You nodded fiercely. He seemed to approve as he immediately began to pull down his sweats.

It was moments before his cock was buried inside you, his hand gripping yours as he fucked you. His other hand rubbed your clit shockingly carefully. God, it was hard not to moan. Not to scream. Not to succumb and yell his name as loud as you could. Neither of you wanted nothing more than that small freedom. But, you couldn't. Not until you were at the Sanctuary, where he had more control.

"You’re mine,” Michael cooed. “all mine.” His eyes were dark and glittering with lust as he spoke. He was coming unraveled, slowly but surely, and you could see it, but you barely heard his words. You had drifted off into your own world of intense pleasure as he rocked in and out of you. It was almost too much to handle, all of it together. It was nothing like how you had previously envisioned your first time going.

A quiet night with your steady boyfriend after a few months of dating. He’d be soft and submissive, letting you go at your own pace. You’d run through the vanilla motions together before going back to the living room and watching Netflix.

But that had become mundane to you as you watched the man in front of you. His hands had both come to grip your waist, guiding him deeper into you. And with a loud moan of his name, you came around him. Pure bliss washed over you and it was almost too much to bare as he did the same a few seconds later.

Moments later, the two of you laid on the bed together. Neither of you knew what to say to one another, but it wasn’t awkward. You didn’t regret it as you looked into his icy blue eyes. In fact, you found yourself glad that it had happened. That he was the one to bring you to pieces.

“Thank you. But can I ask you something?” He nodded, waiting for your question. You laughed lightly. “Next time can you be rougher?”

He was taken aback by your boldness, initially. But as you ended up curled into his chest, his strong arms holding you close to him, he accepted it. Next time, maybe he’d let you take the lead. He wasn’t sure if he’d like that, as he’d never let another woman try. But with you, he was so fucking whipped that he would do almost anything if it made you happy.

The two of you stayed together like that for as long as you could before you suggested a shower for the both of you to wash the sin of your previous acts off of your bodies. He happily agreed. And with that, your story was over, both of you eagerly waiting for the next time.

TAGLIST: @wa-materasu @cupkayyyke @langdonslacefront @jana-banana-fana @bright-alie @ireneelizabeth01@yeemo-chicken-nugget @noice-smort-no-doubt @tunrida-astaroth @witchyvibesforthesoul @madam-avere @princealiyah @rainhowling @majestichoechlin @depressedinspanglish @killmeplzdeddy @speedyboi-with-daddyissues @alaraallegra @atlaserenman @richiethotzierz @songbirdchains @fanficbiish @wakandaaah @phantomofthegrande @bryandechartisasmolbean @our-mrlangdon @rabeccablake @danhowelltrashnumber1 @bluegoldstarfish1987 @mackenziewilson @missblasphemy @tsuukichan @teenagevampirebouquet @skullchik89 @kdghoul @carriemusings @cheyenneeagle-blog @majestichoechlin

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wickedsingularity · 6 years

Text

Emergency Landing [one-shot]

Fandom: Star Trek Pairings/characters: Jim Kirk x reader (but not really), Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Leonard McCoy, Nyota Uhura, Montgomery Scott, M'Benga Words: 3987 Warnings: Hypothermia, bumps and bruises, blood

Prompt/summary: On the way home from a conference, and just a few hours before Jim's birthday, their shuttlepod hits an ion storm.

Note: This was supposed to be one of the xmas stories, but I felt it didn't quite fit, so I changed it to fit AOS Jim's birthday instead. The story is probably not what people are looking for on here, but it's the kind of story I like to write, more substance. And it came easy to me (the hardest part was finding out what dishes to use for rations) and I'm proud of it. So, sorry (not sorry) it's not a fluffy lovey dovey smutty sugary cliché-fic.

"I'm looking forward to a nice, long sonic shower and a night in my own bed," I said as I altered our course a fraction, hoping it would shave a few minutes off our estimated travel time.

"Me too," Jim agreed. "The temperature in that hall was awful."

Jim and I had been to a conference on Tellar Prime about advancement in warp drives and the impact it has on the Prime Directive. Scotty decided it was better to send his assistant chief engineer instead of going himself, and when Jim told me Starfleet made him go too because of his tendency to disregard the Prime Directive and to act as a buffer between the Tellarites and Andorians if necessary, I didn't hesitate to agree to go in Scotty's place. It hadn't been a vacation by any means. Jim off in diplomatic meetings with other species' captains and representatives and me attending one lecture after another, speaking to the best engineers and professors currently available in the Federation. But we attended a few lectures together, and it was nice to travel somewhere with him and relax in a giant bed in a luxurious hotel rather than the smaller and harder Starfleet beds.

The Tellarites liked temperatures a lot warmer than what us humans were used to on a regular basis. It made me sticky and sweaty and I felt like a magnet for all the dust and dirt in the environment there. Though I had taken a water shower every day, nothing really felt as cleansing as a sonic one.

"How long until we reach our rendezvous point?" Jim asked, swivelling his chair around.

I swiped the panel in front of me. "Three hours twenty-six minutes."

"Too long to wait to eat." Jim got up and I heard him rummage around in a compartment for rations. "Do you want meatloaf with peas and mashed potatoes or deconstructed fish tacos?"

I frowned, checking the sensors, I thought I saw something. "That's all the options?"

"Sadly, yes. We need to restock."

"Let's have the meatloaf then." I couldn't see anything on the sensors, deciding it had been Tellarite dust in my eyes. "Warm it up for me?"

"If you activate the autopilot and come back here and eat with me, sweetheart." He already had one ration warmed up.

I took one last glance at the long-range sensors, still finding nothing, and then activated the autopilot. The second ration was done, and Jim set them up on the seat next to him along with two bottles of water. "One last dinner date before duty calls?" I asked.

He looked up and threw me that blinding smile of his. "Something like that."

I sat down on the other side of the two lightly steaming bowls of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. "Real romantic. In a dull shuttlepod. Dirty and sweaty. With rations and stale water."

"Computer, play some slow jazz." There was a beep, and then the sound of a slow and soothing saxophone filled the shuttlepod. "Better?"

I leaned over to give him a quick kiss. "It was already perfect because I'm with you."

"Trying to get in my pants, Lieutenant?"

"I don't have to try to get in your pants, Captain." Raising one eyebrow, I reached for my bowl and fork and took a bite, swallowing with a scowl. "Need to install replicators in our shuttlepods. The new shuttlepod classes are getting them, so why not."

"The captain approves of this idea." Jim too picked sceptically at his meatloaf.

Even if the food wasn't all that good, it was still full of nutrients and we dug in, talking about the conference, the jazz in the background. It was as romantic as it could get in a small shuttlepod. Until suddenly the entire craft tilted, the emergency lights started blinking red, and a klaxon replaced the music. What little was left of my food covered the back of the seat I banged into and Jim's bowl clattered to the floor.

We both scrambled to our feet, the craft tilting to the other side, and we grabbed onto whatever we could to make it to the controls. I plopped down in the seat and there was definitely something on sensors now.

"Ion storm," I said, raising my voice over the sound of the red alert. "A big one."

"Shields at 70 percent," Jim said. "Warp engine is offline. Impulse engine is online. Life support on auxiliary power." The shuttlepod began shaking violently. "Shields at 57 percent. 40 percent. We need to land!"

"There's a planet about four and a half million kilometres away. Uninhabited. Class P."

"Rerouting power to the shields, laying in course."

The twenty-minute flight was long. We cleared the ion storm after seven minutes and was able to drop the shields and save what little power was left, but the warp engines would not come back online, and impulse engines were hanging on by a thread. Life support would not last us until we reached the rendezvous point. I had already sent out a general distress call and was trying to hail the Enterprise while Jim tried his best to keep the engines online long enough to reach the planet. If we could at least get into the atmosphere, gravity would pull us down and we could use thrusters to hopefully bring us to a not too disastrous landing.

"Reaching atmosphere in two minutes," Jim announced.

"Shields are up."

"Brace yourself."

The shuttlepod rattled and shook, it's nose tilting more and more forward until we were hurtling through the atmosphere like a flaming arrow.

"Hull temperature rising," I warned. "Nearing critical. Rerouting life support to shields."

"Almost there!"

Sweat was dripping down my nose from the heat inside the pod. I kept my eyes locked on the shields and temperature levels, not even knowing what more power I could give to the shields to keep us from burning up. But just as I thought I would faint from the heat, we cleared the atmosphere and saw the icy and snowy surface coming closer and closer. The shuttlepod stopped rattling, and I began scanning for a good place to land. Not that we had much to say in the way of navigating, impulse engines were completely dead now.

"Try to land here," I said, entering a set of coordinates for Jim to navigate after.

He activated the thrusters, but it felt like they did nothing. "I'll just try and slow us down as much as I can wherever this piece of metal decides to go."

The surface was coming closer and closer. I knew it was a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity before Jim managed to get the pod a bit more horizontal just before it crashed into the snow and hurtled forwards. It sounded like the hull was being pulled apart and I was thrown back and forth and side to side and then –

Silence.

It was cold. So cold. A shiver ran through me. Everything hurt. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. Then I carefully pushed myself up from the console with a pained groan. I took a moment to take stock of my body, moving my limbs a little bit. Nothing seemed broken, but I would definitely be colourful with various bruises in a bit. Something on my forehead was stinging though, and I touched my fingers to it. They came away red with almost dry blood.

"Jim?" My voice was croaky. I looked around and saw him hanging sideways over the arm of the chair, unconscious. Ignoring the pain everywhere and shivering from the cold and my heart beating hard at seeing Jim like that, I got up and stepped over, checking his pulse. A breath of relief left me. His pulse was strong if a bit slow. Carefully, I moved him into a sitting position and laid my hands on his cold cheeks. No blood on his face, thankfully, or anywhere else that I could see. "Jim?" No response. "Jim! Wake up!"

He inhaled sharply and his eyes blinked. I immediately planted a kiss on his forehead and laughed a bit hysterically.

"You okay?" he asked, closing his eyes again.

I sat down on the console in front of him. "Apart from a few bumps and bruises, yeah. What about you? Anything broken?"

"Doesn't feel like it." He looked at me and sat straighter, alarm in his blue eyes. "You're bleeding!"

I touched my hand to my forehead again and noticed that whatever was there had started bleeding again. I hadn't even felt the fresh blood run down my face as I was waking Jim. "I guess I am."

"Don't move." Jim stood up, winced a bit and then went straight to the compartment with the medkits. I looked around as he did. The front windows were cracked, the bulkhead was dented on the entire right side of the pod as if we had scraped a pointy piece of rock. Many compartments had opened and rations and equipment laid scattered.

Jim came back again, holding his side, and put the medkit down on the console next to me. He pulled out a piece of gauze, cleaning up some of the blood, before picking up a dermal regenerator for the wound. With every move he made, there was a pained frown on his face and he did most of the work with his left arm, but I didn't say anything as I felt the wound closing up, stinging less and less. He then pulled out a medical tricorder, but I pushed his hands away.

"No need for that, I'm fine now. But you're in pain." I moved to lift his shirt, but he pushed my hands away now.

"Just a bruise, from bumping around in the chair probably. It'll be fine. We need to get our bearings and warm up before we freeze to death."

My teeth had indeed started to chatter. "Right. And set up an automated distress call. Enterprise will have realised we're not going to show up by now and start looking."

Both of us moved a bit hesitantly at first, the cold slowed us down. I tried to find some power to send out a distress call, but everything was completely dead. Jim was pulling out emergency kits, tossing a thermal jacket my way before donning one himself.

"I think we should move out and try to find a cave. There's got to be one. Can't start a fire in here," he said, putting the rest of the rations in a backpack.

"Okay. I'm going to detach the distress beacon and take it with us. See if I can get it working."

Soon, we had packed everything we needed, holstered our phasers and donned the headlamps, wrestled the door open and faced the icy, windy and dark night. We both pulled out tricorders and Jim decided on a course. "This way, I think."

The trek was long and it was made slow by having to move through ten inches of snow. Our boots and pants were not suited for this environment and I felt my toes grow colder and colder with each step. The cold wind made my cheeks and eyes sting, tears falling and almost freezing on my skin. While the cold also made me feel less pain from all my bumps and bruises, I noticed Jim sometimes stiffened up and favoured his right side, his hands rubbing at the side of his stomach. I knew better than to ask about it right now, it would have to wait until we found shelter. And about an hour of walking later, a cave finally appeared in front of us.

"No life forms inside," he shouted over the wind and looked at me, cocking his head toward the mouth of the cave as if inviting me into his house.

I nodded, and we walked inside. The sting of the wind disappeared and the further in we got, the fainter the sound became. Only a faint howling in the distance. I looked around for something to use as kindling as we ventured deeper, but there was nothing but icicles and rocks, the cave just as barren as the landscape.

"I think this is deep enough," I said, coming to a stop, looking down at my tricorder. "Any further and the beacon will be out of range."

Jim agreed and we began setting our things down and wiping snow off ourselves. Then I ordered him to sit down.

"I've seen you wince in pain too many times now, let me look at you." I glared at him in that way I knew he understood it was pointless to argue. I knelt in front of him and lifted his shirt. His entire right side was a flower field of bruises. I gently touched him right below the chest and he shied away with a gasp. "Right. If that's not a broken rib, I don't know what is. You get started on this instead, and I'll get us warm." I dumped the beacon in front of him.

"Bossy," Jim mumbled as I rummaged around in his bag for a pain reliever. When I approached him with the hypospray, his playful grin fell. "No."

"Yes." And before he could get away from behind the beacon and move, I pressed the hypospray to his neck.

"Thanks," he then said a few seconds later, as I'm sure some of the pain went away.

I nodded and started to gather some rocks to warm up with my phaser. And then I took the beacon from Jim and continued trying to fix the damage. Jim moved over to the so-called fire and silence filled the cave.

When my hands were so cold I couldn't feel the textural difference between a metal screw and a piece of fabric, I finally got the beacon to power up. I set it to transmit the same distress call we had sent out earlier and wandered over to Jim who held out a water bottle for me.

"Warm up a bit, sweetheart. All we can do now is try to keep warm and wait."

I took a large swig from the bottle and then sat down next to him with my boots as close to the rocks as possible. Jim laid his arm around me and pulled me closer to his uninjured side. Even though he was probably almost as cold as I was, he made me feel warmer, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, rubbing my hands together.

"How's the rib?"

"Still there. But not as painful. Thank you." He kissed the top of my head.

"I can't believe our stupid shuttlepod broke down just a few damn hours before your birthday," I muttered. "On a class P planet."

"That's my birthday for you, it's jinxed." Jim chuckled and winced in pain.

I blew him a raspberry. "It's not jinxed, dumbass. But I had the chef prepare a birthday dinner for when we got back. I bet Bones and Spock are enjoying it instead right now. And gloating."

"You had him prepare for the entire crew? Were you going to throw me a surprise party? You know how I feel about those."

"No. Just you and me. You said we were going to be off duty when we got back and I wanted to pretend to have a normal birthday for you. Shit just seemed to happen every year before this, something always came up. I was so sure this year would be quiet and uneventful."

"Told you it was jinxed. It could have been worse, though. There could have been drakoulias here."

I blew him a raspberry again before silence fell over us. The day was catching up to me, and I felt drowsy. My head dropped down and I started, making Jim chuckle and wince in pain again. But he got up and pulled out the two thermal blankets we had in the backpack and held one out to me.

"Get some rest. I'll keep watch, just in case."

"It's uninhabited. No life forms. It would be safe for you to rest too. And it looks like you need another hypospray," I protested, but I was already settling down on the cold ground and pulling the blanket over me.

Jim moved the distress beacon closer, wrapped the second blanket around himself like a cape, sat down next to the beacon and laid his communicator on the ground. Then he spread his legs, waving me over. I crawled over and settled between his them, using his thigh as a pillow and draped the blanket over myself and his legs. "Just in case. And in case Enterprise hails us. And it feels like I'm better off sitting. Sleep, love. I'll wake you if I need to rest too."

Feeling the heat from Jim creep into me and his fingers gently combing through my hair, I fell asleep quickly. But it was a restless sleep and I woke up what felt like every other minute, feeling colder and colder every time. At one point, I felt Jim shivering slightly. I looked up and saw his head had fallen back to the cave wall, eyes closed and mouth open.

I sat up carefully, trying not to wake him and reached for my phaser to stun the rocks again. Jim blue eyes were open a fraction when I turned back to him. "You're shivering and your lips are turning blue. Please take another hypospray and lie down with me," I ordered.

He didn't even hesitate. He bent his head back and let me press the pain reliever to his neck and then we laid on top of my blanket and wrapped our limbs around each other, and I pulled his blanket tight around us.

"You sleep now, and I'll stay awake."

Again, he didn't even hesitate. He pressed a pair of ice-cold lips to mine, then nuzzled into my neck.

I don't how long I managed to stay awake for, or how long I had been asleep when a sound invaded my consciousness and pulled me back to the cave. Footsteps were coming closer. I was distracted for a fraction of a second of Jim shivering and breathing raggedly next to me, but the echoing sound of a tumbling rock made me grab the phaser lying near my head and hold it towards the mouth of the cave, desperately whispering for Jim to wake up.

Whoever or whatever was coming, came with bright lights that blinded me. "Who's there?" I called out.

"No need to point your phaser at us, Lieutenant."

"Sulu?"

"To the rescue!"

The light was close enough now that I could see Spock, Sulu and Bones. The latter took in the scene in front of him for a second, then strode over with the medical tricorder already out. "Figures that the two of you managed to crash-land on a deserted planet and almost freeze to death while just flying home from a damn conference."

I untangled myself from Jim's trembling arms, and that finally made him open his eyes. "Check him first," I said to the doctor. "Please."

Sulu and Spock came over and helped Jim sit up. Though he was awake, he didn't seem very conscious of what was happening around him and he looked like he was too cold to notice the broken rib. Bones ran the tricorder up and down his body, a frown on his face. I knelt next to them, too worried about how much he was shivering and how blue his lips were.

"His temperature is at 30 Celsius. And he's got a number of bruises and a broken rib and frostbites. We need to get him to sickbay immediately."

Spock whipped out his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise."

"Did you find them?" Uhura's voice came at the other end.

"Yes. Are Commander Scott able to get a transporter lock yet?"

"Negative," Scotty said. "Ye have to get them outta that cave."

"You're not hypothermic yet," Bones suddenly said. I hadn't even noticed that he had scanned me, being too worried about Jim. "That cut on your forehead needs tending too, you didn't do a good job sealing it up, and there's a number of bruises and frostbites on you too. But nothing urgent."

"Can Captain Kirk be moved?" Spock asked.

"Carefully, yes," Bones replied. The two of them got on either side of the captain and pulled him to his feet, and laid his arms over their shoulders. I helped Sulu pack up our stuff and quickly caught up with the trio slowly making their way towards the howling wind. Jim's head was lolling, he had clearly lost consciousness again. Fear gripped at my heart and the walk out of the cave seemed to take fifty times as long as when Jim and I walked inside.

Finally, Spock and Bones stopped. "Spock to Enterprise. Five to beam up directly to sickbay."

As soon as the howling, bitingly cold wind was replaced by warmth and a sterile smell, several things happened at once. Bones began barking out orders while getting Jim onto a biobed. Sulu took the distress beacon from me and he and Spock hurried out of the room. Nurses ran around with blankets and trays of vials and equipment. One of them herded me onto a biobed too far from Jim, and Bones drew the curtains around his bed so I couldn't even see what was going on. I moved to walk over there, but the nurse pushed on my shoulder and forced me down and put a blanket over me.

"Jim," I tried.

"The captain is being treated," the nurse said. "And you need to get your temperature up."

I glared up at him, but he ignored it. I knew he was right. So, I stopped fighting and tried to relax onto the bed while Doctor M'Benga came over and began scanning me with various devices. He and the nurse exchanged a few words I didn't catch, and then M'Benga began retreating the cut on my forehead and the nurse gave me a hypospray, and that was the last thing I remembered.

A few days later, I came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and feeling clean for the first time since before Jim and I left for the conference, it had taken several sonic showers. I had been discharged from Doctor M'Benga's care after just a couple of hours, the cut on my forehead healed properly, frostbites treated and most bruises gone. But Bones kept Jim for two whole days. But then he was finally let out, given a clean bill of health, and under strict orders to take a couple of days off. Which, I figured, is how he had time to set this up.

There, on the table, was the birthday dinner I had asked the chef to make for us.

"Jim? What is this?"

He stood next to the table, looking proud of himself. "I guess my birthday is kind of over, but you seemed disappointed it didn't go the way you had planned. And it sounded really good to have a quiet birthday dinner with just the two of us. So... I did this." His blue eyes were bright and his smile even brighter.

I strode over and wrapped my arms around his neck, looking up into his happy face. "You really are something, James Tiberius. I love you."

"I love you too." He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, lips so warm and soft.

"And happy belated, handsome. Let me go change and we can eat."

"Do you have to? It'll just take me longer to unwrap you later."

I slipped out of his grasp and hurried away to the bedroom area. "You gotta work for it, Captain," I looked back over my shoulder and winked at him.

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escapingreality1992 · 5 years

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Secret Pen Pals ch. 2

Keira's POV

My alarm went off at 8 a.m. sharp and I groaned as I scrunched up my face annoyed at the early hour. My hair fell in my face as I pushed myself up from lying on my stomach. Unfortunately, I couldn't go back to sleep because a client of mine was coming by to drop off her two golden retrievers to be watched for a week; She'd be here at 10 a.m. and I'd go over a couple things before having to leave the pups in the apartment two hours later in order to meet my friends for lunch.

An outward groan left my throat again, dreading the conversation I would have with them. If they had seen the advertisement for the pen pal event, I was sure that they'd have their own opinions about it. If they hadn't...well either way I planned to keep it a secret from them. I considered myself to be a romantic; to them, I'd be nothing more than a hopeless romantic, the idea that two people might fall in love through letters ridiculous in their minds.

My job was already a joke to them, a disappointing career to anyone close to me. The thing is I enjoyed what I did for a living. Dogs brought me joy to my life and today I planned on taking them for a swim at a local pool strictly for dogs. I released a content sigh thinking about it. In addition, I also wanted to stop by one of those unique specialty stores which sold anything from antiques to dolls, but more importantly the one I wanted to shop in had those instant Polaroid cameras. The reason behind this being that I had wrote Steve about sending him a picture of the coziness of my room, capturing the many blankets thrown across my bed.

Making a mental note to clean my room, I strode to the bathroom to take a shower in preparation for the day ahead of me. I let the hot water pour over my body, taking my time to cleanse it of the sweat that clung to it from the heat of the apartment. Fall came quick this year, meaning cooler nights and I had yet to make a thicker blanket to envelop me in warmth. Once finished with my usual routing in the shower, I stepped out into the coldness of the bathroom; I constantly let the fan run to avoid paint peeling off the walls from the steam that encased the entire room from the hot water. I wrapped a fluffy, light blue towel around my body - my arms and lower legs still exposed to the cool air - and ventured to the warm air of my bedroom.

Making my way to my closet, I chose an outfit consisting of a violet t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers laying it across my unmade bed before grabbing undergarments from my dresser. Slipping those on, I dried my hair, leaving it slightly wet and pulling on the t-shirt and jeans before continuing the drying process. Since I had longer hair, it took a little while for it to get fully dry; I pulled it up in my usual ponytail and grabbed my current read and phone to sit on the couch while I waited for my client to arrive. At 10, a knock sounded at the my door, prompting me to put my bookmark in my book and set it aside to greet Andrea and Mark Peterson, the owners of the two golden retrievers; Jamie age 4 and Sherlock age 6.

"Good morning Keira. Thanks again for watching them. This trip to Paris is very important," Andrea greeted me. They were business partners who were trying to get word out for the wedding cakes they crafted from scratch. Andrea was a petite, 5'2" woman with honey blonde hair and brown eyes, while her husband stood at 6'3" with broad shoulders, dark hair and hazel eyes. They had no children apart from the dogs whom they sort of treated as such. They were humble and our first meeting involved picking out a cake for a friend's - well former friend's - wedding five years ago. They were a sweet couple and had seen my ad three weeks before that wedding, never needing to use my services until a month after; they went to travel to England for supplies for more extravagant decorations for their many delicious cakes. Now in the present, they became a regular client as their business continued to propel forward. They paid well, but it wasn't about the money for me. I loved taking care of each and every dog I watched.

"No problem. I enjoy having Jamie and Sherlock around. You said you were picking them up Saturday?" I told them, taking the leashes and walking the dogs to the couch, setting them loose once my apartment door was shut by Mark, who set down their dog bags.

"Can we pick up Sunday actually? Sunday night if possible. We'll be getting in pretty late Saturday and I have a feeling the jet lag is going to be horrendous," Andrea replied, pulling out her checkbook.

"Sunday is perfectly fine. Are you okay if I take them swimming? I'd be taking them to an indoor dog pool a few blocks from here,"

"Yes that sounds like a wonderful idea. I imagine they might enjoy that very much. If they stay until Sunday, how much more will that be?" Mark stated.

"Only 30 dollars more. Anything else I need to know about this week? Any questions about anything else?" I responded.

"30 dollars? Really? You know what, I'll give you a little more. I think 4000 should suffice," Andrea commented.

"Oh, but I only charge 2000 in most cases," I stated.

"We don't mind. You take care of them so often and so excellent that you deserve a big tip," Mark commented, smiling politely. I returned the smile and rubbed the head of Sherlock who had padded over to me and nudged the fingers of my right hand. Andrea ripped out the check and handed it to me, both owners waving goodbye to both goldens. My apartment door closed again and I turned to the pups.

"What do you say? Want to go for a walk before lunchtime?" I asked them. At this both dogs circled me jumping up to place their paws against my body.

"Okay, okay. First you two have to sit and wait so I can hook up your leashes," I told them, slipping on my sneakers. I grabbed a few poop bags, leashes and keys in the other hand before going outside for a walk. While walking, I couldn't help but wonder what Steve was up to at this very moment.

Steve's POV

Another 5 a.m. run, another training session, and another debriefing on the latest threat. That's how my day began. Not at all exciting, especially with debriefing, which wasn't even about a threat at all. It ended up being a report about the last enemy we defeated, a couple of paranormal entities, which we had to enlist Stephen Strange's help with. What followed the report was Tony discussing plans for an upcoming benefit we had to attend. As he droned on, I found myself aimlessly drawing on a piece of printer paper to stave off my boredom. Well, at least, I'll have something to send to Keira, I thought, focusing on the curvature of a ball of yarn I drew. Funny, I'm letting details of her first letter influence my sketches. Weird how it happened, I thought, a small smile creeping on my lips.

"What do you think Cap?" Tony's voice cut into my concentration.

"About what?" I answered, not even looking up, too involved in sketching out a dog's paw.

"I thought about showing up in my birthday suit and dancing all night," he stated. My pencil froze and I glanced up to see Tony grinning in pure amusement.

"I'm only joking. The theme, Steve, would be dark tones. Not necessarily black tie but shades of gray, black, maybe even white," he stated.

"No white. If you served red wine or colorful cocktails, there would be obvious stains should you spill anything on yourself. Shades of gray? Like the movies? Isn't that a little inappropriate?" I told him, my hand itching to get back to my drawing. Snorts of laughter went around the room as my friends glanced at each other.

"No, not the movies. The benefit is supposed to be formal. I didn't want it to be black tie again," Tony answered.

"Oh, alright. What is this for? Remind me,"

"Saving the world from total destruction and as it turns out paranormal beings. We're giving back to the community as well," Tony explained.

"Of course with a huge donation on your end," Natasha commented.

"We work hard and Stark Industries is doing pretty well in the technology department,"

"Maybe Strange is right. I don't see how that ego fits in..."

I barely registered Nat's entire quip at Tony, resuming my drawing as they bickered back and forth.

"You know Nat and Wanda could be having sex on the table right in front of us and you wouldn't notice. What's got you all distracted?" Bucky asked me, getting my attention by waving a hand in front of my face.

"Nothing. I hate these kind of debriefings. They're important but I find them dull and boring. At least the ones with missions have more excitement," I responded, flipping the pencil to use the eraser, correcting a mistake I made with the dog's body.

"Nothing? Seems like it's something since you've become super quiet. You must be really bored if you're drawing. What is it this time? More monkeys?" Bucky stated. He leaned over to see and I immediately moved another sheet over it to block his view.

"No. It's not finished. I'd rather not let anyone see it right now," I said, causing him to furrow his brows.

"What is it for anyway?"

"No one...I mean, it's not for anything. You know how I get when I'm bored. I doodle things instead of letting sleep take over. Especially in this meeting," I stated, a slight panic coming over me at revealing my pen pal. It's not like I didn't want to tell him but I didn't want anyone to poke fun at the idea. My friends wouldn't judge but I couldn't have them deter me from the exchange anyway. Plus, I wanted someone to talk to - write in this case - about anything I felt like. I wanted to have someone to interact with that wasn't involved in my world. Although I still had a recurring though of Keira already knowing who I am, though re-reading the letter it seemed like she didn't. If she did...maybe she hadn't revealed that fact yet, afraid to drive me away when she could have me to herself. Shaking my head, I tried to shove it away from my mind. Relax, Steve. Have some faith in this girl, I thought. Turning my attention to my best friend, I managed a small smile.

"Honestly it's a silly drawing. I wouldn't worry about it. I don't mean to be secretive about the beginnings of the sketch but I want to make sure it's perfect before I show anyone," I told him.

"That's understandable. That being said, are you sure nothing else is on your mind?"

"I'm sure, Buck. Thanks for your concern," I stated.

"That's a wrap everyone. On your way out of the room, grab a packet so you can review details of the benefit later this week," Tony informed us.

"This week? I thought it was next week," I commented, inwardly groaning.

"If you had been paying attention, you would have already known it's happening this week. Why the long face Cap? Afraid you can't get a date?" Tony mocked me. I frowned, standing up to approach the table where our packets lay.

"I'm not going with anyone. I forgot to purchase a suit to match the colors of this benefit. If you'll excuse me, I must go out and do so. Especially if I'm to be presentable for your taste," I remarked, almost hissing the last part. Tony and I had a different relationship, agreeing on some things, disagreeing on most. Today happened to be a day where the littlest of things could set me off. I could admit stress definitely was a factor, the only thing calming my mood being my pen pal and the eagerness of sending another letter growing in my heart. I picked up the packet, walking out in as much a calm manner as possible. I retreated to my room to place the packet on my desk before venturing out to a department store in order to pick up a suit for the benefit a few days later. After trying on a few suits and deciding on a charcoal gray suit with a tie that matched it, I chose to stop by a small jewelry store and purchased a birthday gift worthy for Keira. Unaware to me, Keira happened to be in the same area eating lunch; our paths wouldn't cross with each other on this day. I returned home to finish the small drawing of a dog playing with a ball of yarn and began constructing another letter for her.

Keira's POV

The golden retrievers and I returned from the walk tired and hungry; I also had sweat that accumulated on various parts of my body, deciding that I needed to take a final shower before meeting my friends. I set out bowls of dog food for Jamie and Sherlock before taking said shower, quickly going through the routine and drying off. I changed into a dark green, long sleeve blouse and black trousers remembering the restaurant we were going to was really nice. Not an overly expensive one you could see the elite dining in but one in which the prices were in a medium range. Pulling on a pair of heels that matched my blouse, I made sure my furry companions had water, giving them both a treat before heading out for lunch with my friends. Since the restaurant wasn't too far from my apartment, I decided to walk to it instead of taking a cab, the subway station out of the question being on the opposite side of where I needed to go. As usual, I ended up being 15 minutes early having to wait on the other three women to arrive. Thankfully, I always carried a book everywhere I went; the current read being about magic and wizards, the genre of fantasy drawing me into its fascinating world.

"Why is it whenever we meet up, you manage to have your nose in a book?" a voice interrupted my reading. The next to arrive was Charlotte Mathers with her red pixie cut, long legs, and green eyes. She enjoyed her job, which happened to be a general manager at a high end retail store. She got paid well, enough to live near Central Park in an amazing, huge, studio apartment, plus she had been born into a family that had a little more money than the average middle class. I smiled, trying not to be annoyed with her comment.

"Well Charlotte, I enjoy reading instead of having my face rooted to my phone," I answered her. Like she even heard me, her face locked onto her phone...this being a normal habit of hers.

"She never escapes from her fantastical world. How have you been Keira?" another voice stated. Oh good. Of course, Lena would be the next to get here, I thought. A woman with long blonde hair, a petite figure that mirrored mine and blue eyes was an accurate description of Lena Morrow. Lena had a job as a receptionist to a law firm. It was rare that she could out to lunch and we enjoyed her company whenever possible. She stayed busy exactly like Jana Elliot, who was the last to arrive. Jana was a nurse which is her schedule almost never matched Charlotte's and mine.

"I'm good Lena. I've got two dogs to watch this week which is pretty cool," I responded to the question, catching Jana's eyes as she walked in.

"Didn't you have one last week? What is it with you and babysitting dogs? It can't pay all that well," Jana greeted us.

"It pays pretty well actually. I keep getting requests from a lot of people who don't mind paying a lot. Plus, I charge 2000 for an entire week. Though for a few days it's only about 1500," I explained.

"Yeah, but you must not have enough to live anywhere nice," Lena commented.

"I live in Brooklyn. It's nice enough and save most of what I earn. Not to mention people give me tips after I watch their dogs. I even charge a little extra for training them if they need it. Sometimes I have the same dog or dogs for two weeks which gets me a lot of money," I stated.

"You're still earning money from doing book reviews right? What do they pay? 1300 per review?" Charlotte asked, looking up from her phone for the first time since she got here.

"Yes. It's more like 1500. Enough talk about my income. I'm hungry," I stated, feeling all the judgment from my friends. I loved them but there time I wondered why they bothered hanging out with me. Their comments seemed to get worse every time we met up, but I didn't want to seem like a hermit staying in my apartment, so I put up with it. They didn't bother me too much; occasionally someone would say something that rooted in me and stung a little but I never showed it until I got back to my apartment. We were seated and ordered spinach artichoke dip as an appetizer until we figured out what to have as a main course. Looking over the menu, I decided to go with a tuna poke, Lena, went with steak, Charlotte chose a salad and Jana went with a club sandwich.

"Did anyone see that advert in the bookstore downtown? An event for pen pals. Sounds ridiculous if you ask me," Charlotte said. My blood froze as Jana and Lena both nodded.

"Who would e-mail a complete stranger? What do they expect will happen? Someone falls in love with another person. Not likely," Lena replied.

"I heard it's supposed to be handwritten letters instead of e-mailing one another," I commented, nervously wringing my hands under the table.

"Oh good. Nothing like going back in time. I wonder if they had anyone sign up. Or maybe if they had any of the Avengers sign up," Lena continued, a scowl on her face.

"Maybe some might say it sounds kind of romantic. Having a connection with someone through letters of course. It doesn't have to be romance though. Some people could meet new friends," I stated. The three of them turned to glance at me; if I hadn't been judged before, then their expression certainly had judgment clearly etched out on their features.

"Did you sign up? You've always been a hopeless romantic. Sweetie, you should go out and meet someone real, not write to someone you can't even see," Jana suggested.

"No. I missed the deadline. As for meeting someone while I go out, it hasn't really worked for me," I snapped. Their eyebrows raised at the anger in my tone and decided to drop the subject. It was a quiet lunch, not much to say; I suppose my annoyance at them prevented anyone from speaking and for the first time I was happy to leave one of our outings.

Returning to my apartment, the retrievers greeted me by letting me scratch their heads, following me around while I prepared for our appointment at the dog pool. I changed into a black one piece, throwing on athletic shorts and a tank top with flip flops and leashed the dogs before exiting my home. This time, I loaded them in car and drove to midtown Manhattan, parking in the garage of the pool building, taking the elevator down to the pool. We would be the only ones there and I could eliminate the lunch from my mind as I swam around with Jamie and Sherlock. I had unleashed them and let them jump in while I pulled off my shorts and tank top, joining them immediately. We stayed there for two hours, swimming and playing, the tension I had melting away.

Packing up at the end of our session, I remembered to stop by the specialty shop that sold the Polaroid cameras for the purpose of keeping an old-fashioned theme to my letters. The shop in particular, accurately named Unique Peculiarities, allowed pets so I toted Jamie and Sherlock inside, browsing the various colors of the cameras, selecting a royal blue one and grabbing some film to prepare for my idea. I returned home and let the pups do their business before letting them loose in my apartment. I set to cleaning up and arranged my blankets in such a way to capture the coziness. I decided at the last minute to snap a picture of my bookshelves and added one of favorite books, Pride and Prejudice, for another picture. Once I got the pictures out the way, I sat down to construct another letter to Steve.

Four Days Later

Steve's POV

I spent most of the week preparing for the benefit and when it came, I still felt like something was missing, or rather someone. Maybe I was lonely and desired a companionship. Even now as I looked around at my friends, I wanted someone to hold, to kiss, to love. Most of my friends had someone; Natasha had Wanda - a surprise to all of us but we supported it - Tony had Pepper, Thor had Jane. The rest of us remained single but I couldn't help but to dream of having someone to care for. I didn't know if Keira would be the one for me. I hadn't even met the woman but still imagined what it'd be like with her.

"Can I get a beer please?" I asked the bartender, sitting down on the stools contemplating my decisions in life. I spent most days avenging the world and missed out on several opportunities to be fixed up on a date. Natasha had tried many times a few years ago but I rejected them all, set on working on missions. There was a brief relationship with Sharon Carter but it fell through pretty quickly and now I regretted not taking more chances with dating someone.

"Everything all right? You seem a bit down," Natasha's voice interrupted my thoughts as I sipped on my beer. I turned, managing a small grin.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking about some things,"

"Relationships you mean. What? I know you too well. Besides, I've been watching you tonight. You look at the couples and there's a hint of sadness in your eyes. Why don't you ask someone out?" she commented.

"I don't know. Sure, I'd like to date but the people I'm around are caught up in this world, avenging it and I don't want someone in the same line of work. I'd like to come home to some who can take my mind off this job. Other people see me as Captain America, not Steve Rogers. It's hard most days, seeing happiness of those around me when I can't provide it for myself,"

"Who knows? Maybe it'll happen to you one day. Don't give up hope,"

"Thanks Natasha," I told her. As the night died down, I wandered outside to get a breath of fresh air, hands in my pockets, the cool breeze of Autumn ruffling my hair. I reached the end of the drive and stopped by the mailbox. Mailbox. We haven't checked it in the last few days, I thought. Keira's name flashed across my mind as I opened the metal box and pulled out a stack of mail. I rifled through it on the way back to the compound. I was back inside the building when I saw it, the letter addressed to me. I set down the other mail on the coffee table and disappeared into my room, my fingers quickly opening the thick packaging of the envelope. I sat down on my bed, unfolding the letter, three Polaroid pictures facing me. One featured a bed with a multitude of colorful knitted blankets, the thickness of the material making me want to bury my body among them. The second picture had a view of three large bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books ranging from fiction to nonfiction to young adult books. At the bottom of the Polaroid she had written - in Sharpie - 'Can you tell I'm a book collector?' followed by a winking face next to the question. A smile crept onto my lips as I picked up the final picture featuring Pride and Prejudice. The the end she had written 'My all time favorite.' Putting the pictures to the side, I began reading, kicking off my shoes and lying back on the sheets.

Steve,

As promised, I've sent you a picture of my cozy blankets. Don't they make you want to climb under them? They're ones for fall but there are more that I'm creating for winter. Definitely needing to stay warm, especially in this city. As a bonus, I've sent you a picture of bookshelves and one of my all time favorite book. I know, these are Polaroids but I thought it'd be kind of interesting to keep an nostalgic theme going here.

Pride and Prejudice is one story I've falling in love with ever since the eighth grade. I love the dynamic between Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy and the love that happened to always be there. I read it every Christmas curled up in bed or on the couch, a cup of hot chocolate, or tea, in my hand. The blankets surrounding me of course. You'd think after a few years of living here, I'd be used to the cold, but I'm still a southern girl at heart and desire warmth.

In my last letter, I realized I forgot to tell you I'm originally from North Carolina. Greensboro to be exact. When I used to live there, we had crazy weather too, one day it'd be hot as blazes, the next cool and comfortable. During the winter, we'd freeze, not used to it. My parents still live there of course, but we don't get to visit each other much. I miss them and I'll be visiting the some time next month and for Christmas, so if you get a letter from North Carolina, that'll be why.

Currently, I'm watching two golden retrievers named Jamie and Sherlock. We went swimming earlier and as I'm write this, my hair is still a tangled, wet mess. I hope wherever you are, you're having a good day. I was until I met up with a couple friends of mine. I think I've mentioned I'm a total romantic. If not, then now you know.

Well that makes two of us, I thought. She already had me wanting to cozy up in that bed as well since I already viewed the picture. The only difference being I wanted to be under there with her. It's only the second letter. Am I starting to crush on her already? Another thought popped up in my head as I continued reading.

Anyway, they saw the advertisement for this event and seemed to think it ridiculous. I rather think this is unique, a great opportunity to connect. Maybe all this could be is a friendship but maybe somewhere out there it could give someone to love. Is it silly? Maybe not ideal? Perhaps, but you never know. Things could miraculously happen.

No, it's not silly. I love the way your mind works, I thought. I sat up to remove my jacket and tie picking up the letter again, settling back on the pillows.

If that wasn't bad enough, they sought out to judge me on my job. They don't think it pays well but you'd be surprised at the amount of people who request me to watch their dogs. Sometimes they also pay to have me train them. Not to mention a side job (which I forgot to mention last time) as a book reviewer. Apparently in this city, it pays well and it's a lot of fun.

The only things that calmed me today was the pool time with the pups and knowing I could come back write to you. I wish that we have met already; I desperately need a hug at the moment. For the time being, I'll just hold the goldens close and pet them. Maybe next week will be better. It'll be my birthday after all. Nothing can go wrong on your birthday.

Sorry for the complaining but I needed to get it off my chest and my mind. Writing and talking is the best way I know how to do just that and since I can't talk to anyone about this, writing to you seems to be my only option. It's the best option, trust me.

Looking forward to your letter,

Keira

I ran my fingers over her name, a longing in my heart starting to grow. I would've wrapped her in a hug so warm she'd never feel sad again. I sighed, getting up and placing the letter and the Polaroids in a box I set aside for this very purpose. I stripped out the rest of the suit, except for my boxers and turned off the lights in my room. I slipped into the warmth of my bed and fell into dreams of one day meeting Keira.

Keira's POV

My week with Jamie and Sherlock wasn't over yet. I spent more time sitting on the couch reading, taking them out on walks or just to their business when they needed it. We went swimming two more days and I collected the mail, letting it pile up, not checking it because I got busy training the pups a few times during the week. Today my phone rang while I sat on the couch, Sherlock in my lap, Jamie on the other end sleeping.

"Hello?" I answered, not checking the ID.

"Keira, it's Andrea. We need to stay another three days in Europe. We've been requested to head to London to check on the shop there. Are you okay to watch Jamie and Sherlock for a little longer?" Mrs. Peterson greeted me.

"Yeah, no problem. I don't have any other dogs coming until next Saturday," I told her her pushing my stack of mail over to get to my calendar. I marked down Jamie and Sherlock until the Wednesday coming up. The pile tipped over, spilling to the floor and I sighed, bending down to pick up the envelopes that fell; my hands paused when I saw the new letter from Steve.

"Great. We'll pay you when we get back. is an extra 3000 okay with you?" she commented.

"Uh huh. Sounds good. Have a safe trip," I said, ending the call and standing up. I hastily threw the other envelopes I picked up back on the kitchen counter, returning to the couch. I ripped open the envelope pulling out a sheet of notebook paper, unfolding it and started reading.

Keira,

I just finished up picking out a suit for a benefit I have to attend later this week. I forgot all about it until one of my friends told me about it during a meeting today. This meeting was dull and boring, not exciting like others. In the other letter you sent, you wanted to know a favorite memory of mine. I don't have many but I always remember the one when my best friend made me ride on a roller coaster at Coney Island which made me throw up. Gross, I know, but it's the one that comes to mind first. That and the engagement of another friend of mine. He had never been happier than in that moment. Another thing about me is something we both have in common. Reading is a favorite thing I love to do. Other than drawing. Speaking of, I sent you a drawing this time. I mentioned I doodle when I'm bored. So, this took place during the meeting.

I stopped briefly to pull out the piece of paper that got stuck in the envelope. I unfolded it and smiled at the pictured of a realistic looking dog pawing around a ball of yarn. He was definitely talented, the details standing out and catching the eye. I looked back to the letter and continued to read.

It's not much but it made me think of you. Your job sounds interesting and I'm pleased you're following your passion. Now, things I like to do for fun besides reading and drawing are going out with my friends to a bar. We tend to have a good time. I like running and going to the movies, even though I'm behind on a lot of them. I love the smell of coffee in the morning and the smell of rain whenever I go out in it. The rain is almost tranquil and I feel I can escape among those tiny droplets. You should see my mood during a thunderstorm. I'm very calm throughout it. I love watching the lightning in the dark with the curtains drawn.

Oh, we'd definitely get along then, I thought, touching my free fingers to my lips.

The description of your blankets makes me want a creation of yours. No pressure though. We're still strangers after all. Your description of yourself, however, makes me want to see that lovely face. You're beautiful, though I haven't seen you yet. If we ever get to the point where we'd want to see each other in person, I know I'd have my breath taken away. That's only my opinion though. I hope this benefit goes well. I'm not going with anyone but sometimes I get this lonely feeling. I want someone to hold and to love but I haven't found the right person yet and the people I'm around are in my line of work. I;d love to come home to someone who doesn't deal with the same things I do. I would love someone who could pull me from it, to distract me from it, if only for a few hours.

I don't mean to sound sad but I feel as though I can tell you anything and not get judged for it or at least not pushed into anything. This a good way to open up indeed. To tell someone about things you wouldn't normally share with even your closest friends. I want to hear more from you. Your favorite movie? Your ideal date? Your ideal day? Maybe your favorite memory? Anything. Everything. I hope the drawing brought you joy today.

Write to you soon,

Steve

My smile spread wider at the words on the paper. A thought popped in my mind that very instant. The thought being that I might start to like him only not in a friendship way. Though the friendship was off to a good start, other feelings began to dance around in my heart. Try not to fall in love with him yet. It's too early for that, I thought to myself. I folded up the letter and the drawing, sliding them into the envelope carefully and set it aside, continuing my book well into the late night, Steve on my mind. I made a mental note to get a frame for the drawing as I got up from the couch, allowing both dogs to join me in my bedroom. I changed into pajamas and slid under the coziness of my sheets, drifting off into dreamland.

#avengers #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #marvel #pen pals

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edourado · 7 years

Note

Not to overbear u with Kastle writing prompts, but can u please write a Kastle coffee shop au? (Karen the bookstore barista and Castle looking for good coffee and a new Jack Reacher novel) I don't think anyone has done this which is surprising because coffee is Frank's lifeblood, lol.

Hello, hello! I’m sorryyyy, it took so long! I was supposed to have answered this one like one day after you sent it, but, you know, life.

Here it is, though. It’s really fluffy, because I need fluff, like alot of it. I do sincerely hope you like it. Let me know.

Much love ♥

Espresso and caramel

He first walked in there looking for one specific novel. After reading the synopsis on a magazine on the subway, he was interested, and walked in this small bookshop near his apartment to look for it.

He found a copy fast enough, it wasn’t difficult. But then he sat down to read it, on the counter of the small café on the very back of the place, and it felt like he got the story by the middle of it.

“That is the fifth book”, came a voice from behind the counter.

Looking up, Frank saw this woman, blonde and blue eyed, smiling at him, a pot of coffee in her hand.

“Coffee?” she asked, her long hair in a low braid, tucked casually but neatly over her right collarbone.

With a nod he hoped didn’t look too foolish, Frank returned her smile with a smaller one, the one, he had been told, was charming.

“There are twenty two Jack Reacher books”, she continued, bringing a white cup to him and filling it with coffee that smelled delicious. “The latest one just came out this year.”

“You a fan?” he asked, noticing a small ink stain on her chin, as if she had chewed on a pen recently.

“Not really. We had a signing when the book came out, I organized it.”

“A signing, huh?” he took a sip of the coffee and looked as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear after setting the pot back in it’s place.

“Yeah, my grandmother is very well connected. She called James and asked if he would like to have a signing here the day the book came out, he was all too happy to agree. This place was packed, I don’t even know how the walls didn’t give.”

Looking at him with the air of someone that just caught themselves at something, she offered another smile, this one with a hint of self consciousness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. You just looked a bit… Confused.”

Frank closed the book and set it by his coffee.

“I was confused”, he admitted, taking another sip. “I know nothing about this, I read a note about it, thought I’d give it a try.”

With a shrug, she picked up the coffee pot again to fill the mug of a lady that sat on the corner of the counter, reading a thick novel.

“I can help you sort it out”, she offered, smiling at the woman, who smiled back at her. (“Thanks, Karen”, she said), “If you’d like.”

When she was standing beside him in front of the shelf he had found the fifth book, he looked at her while she looked at the volumes.

It has been a while, since he had seen a woman that left him speechless. Beautiful women were not hard to find, it was hard to find an ugly one, but fuck him sideways, this one might not even be human.

“Ok”, she started, eyes focusing on the books in front of them while his inspected her face. “Do you want to read it in chronological order, or in publishing order?”

Frank doesn’t answer, because he’s busy trying to decide if he had ever seen a woman more beautiful than her, ever. She looks at him and he shrugs.

“What do you think?”

She was smiling again and then picking one up from the shelf.

“I’d go with publishing order. If he published them like that, it must mean they should be read at that order, don’t you think?”

Trying not to shrug again, he picked up the book she offered him, and gave her the one he had picked up for himself.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He went back to his seat and she offered him a slice of pecan pie to go with his coffee and his book. Frank found that her voice was a good soundtrack for his reading, talking to the waiting staff, customers, with a woman he assumed was the grandmother she had mentioned, who was the owner of the bookshop. It carried him through his reading, and, before he knew it, he had to go back home and walk the dogs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, paying his bill.

“I’ll be here”, she offered. “It’s Karen, by the way.”

He knows. People have been calling her around him, familiar. She made conversation, served coffee and pie, cake, hot chocolate for children and lattes for teenagers. Black coffee for some. For him. Black coffee and a smile, every time. Sometimes, when he moved to stretch a bit, she would peek and check the page he was in.

“Frank”, he offered, and she nodded once, cocking her head and turning back to go back behind the counter.

“See you tomorrow, Frank.”

He got home wondering if he had spent the afternoon in another dimension, in the company of someone who was not real.

.:.

He was almost finishing the seventh book when when he noticed something different about her.

Her greeting smile wasn’t as bright, she stopped leaning in to read over his shoulder, didn’t ask if he wanted more coffee, just poured more every time she noticed his cup was almost empty. When she asked if he wanted carrot cake, her voice was smaller.

He couldn’t really tell what was different, or if something was wrong, but then, while she finished slicing a very nice smelling cake, her grandmother came behind the counter.

“Matthew called”, she said, in a small voice Frank heard only because he was paying attention. “Again.”

Karen sighed, apparently annoyed.

Ah. Explained.

“You’re not gonna call him?”

“I did”, she answered, short, losing the remaining grip she had on her temper. “We talked. There’s nothing else to say. I don’t wanna talk to him.”

The knife hit the plate under the cake at the word “talk”, as if to emphasize the finality of her decision.

“Alright, dear, alright”, sighed her grandmother, patting her on the shoulder and walking to Frank. “Hello, Frank” she greeted him.

“Mrs. Page how you doing?” he asked, closing his book.

“Good, good. Enjoying the books?”

“I am. She makes me read a different one in between these.” He motioned to Karen with his chin and was glad to see a small smile breaking her otherwise grim expression.

“Oh?” she turned to her granddaughter. “Which ones?”

“Just one”, Karen offered. “’New York Stories’.”

“Hmm”, she nodded, looking back at him. “To cleanse the pallet, heh?”

“That’s what she says.”

With a polite, affectionate smile to him, she turned back around and raised a hand to caress Karen’s cheek.

“Your hair’s gotten long”, she said, and Karen looked at her with the air of a little girl who had been caught stealing from a cookie jar that was meant for her anyway.

The older woman got inside the kitchen and the door swung behind her.

“I like it” Frank offered, if only to make her let go of that sad look, even for a moment. “The longer hair.”

Karen looked from the kitchen door and back to him, sustained his look for a few seconds, and he was happy to see a smile stretch on her lips.

“Do you want cake?” she asked, already turning to pick up a plate for him.

“If I take everything you offer me”, he said, draining the last of his coffee. “I’ll get as fat as I can get in no time.”

She turned to him with a teasing look in her face, a hand on her waist.

“So you don’t want cake?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

Turning back, she picked up the plate and placed it in front of him, offering him the fork with a twist of her wrist.

“You see the chocolate chips?” he raised his brows and she lifted her shoulder, charmingly. “I placed them myself.”

“Wow”, he said, sarcastically, happy to see her teeth, this time, when she smiled. “Practically a baker yourself.”

He ate and he read and he drank the coffee she filled his mug with. He pretended to read while she rested her elbows on the far side of the counter to look at a kid’s phone while he showed her something or other.

She was loved by those who frequented her grandmother’s book shop and café. It helped that she knew people by their names and memorized their favorite orders and their birthdays.

Still. Even as she smiled and joked, Frank saw the little sighs and how the smiles dropped every time she turned around and didn’t have to speak to anyone.

It made him wonder if she smiled at him just as she smiled to everyone else or if she smiled like he smiled at her - because she couldn’t help it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked when he got up to leave, like he did everyday, now.

“I’ll be here”, she replied, but he didn’t like that small, less than bright smile. Not at all.

.:.

She put the eighth book - The Enemy - in front of him when he sat down at a table on a Friday, because the counter was full. Men with laughter a little louder than the usual tone of the small café, but not enough to warrant a complaint, even if he could see all the other customers were not too happy with the newcomers.

“I’ll be right back with your coffee”, she said, almost in a intimate whisper, and turned back around with a wink.

Frank was watching her move around and serve coffee and pie to the men on the counter, not liking the polite smile she gave them, finding it nervous and on edge. Not a sincere smile at all. At the very least, the blonde, slightly plump suited man on the very edge of the group seemed to not irk her.

“You know”, said a voice suddenly by his side. Mrs. Page sat on the chair by his right on the square table. “It is not everyone that… Fits here.”

Frank looked at her, her blue eyes, very similar to Karen’s own, looking back at him.

“I thought you wouldn’t, to be quite honest. But you did.” She looked away from him and towards Karen, who now smiled genuinely at the blonde man. “Perfectly, I’d say.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that, so he just sat there and watched.

“She’s not the same, my Karen. Since Matthew, she has been… Dimmed.”

“Matthew?”

“Ex-boyfriend. They were something to watch, those two. I even do believe he loved her just as much - if not more - than she loved him. But, as you must know, men, they…” she made a dismissive move with her hand. “He couldn’t see with his eyes, but all the same. There was too much around him, in his past, that clouded his vision. She denies it, thinks she’s protecting me, but it’s obvious, isn’t it? She’s hurt.”

They both looked towards her, who now sat at a table with three girls, taking a selfie.

“We have a secret menu, you know”, said the woman he came to see, he now realized, as his own grandmother. “She came up with it. Just for her favorites. But you have to ask for it.”

“You think I’m one of the favorites?”

The woman looked at him and offered a knowing smile. Patting his hand, she got up.

“Ask her about the secret menu. She calls it ‘Karen’s notebook’, but don’t tell her I said that. If I’m very, very wrong, she’ll tell you there isn’t one.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“You’re smart. I think you can figure it out for yourself.”

.:.

He stuck around longer, that day. Intent on seeing the men leave, on seeing his regular seat on the counter unoccupied, he sat there, not really reading, watching her for the rest of the day.

The group of suits left almost at closing time. The bookshop was empty already, there were only two couples still lingering on the tables, nursing coffee and tea and sharing pies.

Frank was about to tell her he was leaving, too, when she took her phone from her apron, listened to what he guessed was a message and then threw the device inside a drawer, banging it shut and taking a deep breath.

“You ok?” he asked, tired of that look in her face. He wanted the smiles again, the light expression.

Karen looked at him and blinked, making a face and a dismissive move of her shoulder.

“Yeah, just… My ex boyfriend.”

“He giving you trouble? You want me to rough him up for you?”

That earned him a blush and and coy curve of her lips.

“You would do that?”

“Just say the word.”

A little reluctantly, she told him all about this lawyer, this guy she had dated for almost a year, but had screwed things up because his ex girlfriend came back in town and hired him for something or other, and she couldn’t prove he had cheated, but she was positive, because he kept lying and hiding things from her, neglecting her, disappearing, missing dates.

“Stupid man”, Frank let out, and she looked at him with such sad eyes he wanted to hold her in his arms and make the memory of this Matthew guy go away.

“He’s actually very smart.”

“No, he’s not.” He moved his head, looking for her eyes, and she looked up from the counter, right back at him, and her throat moved in a way he didn’t know he liked until that very moment. “So. Am I teaching him a lesson or what?”

With a chuckle, she moved and picked up his empty mug.

“No, that’s ok”, she said. “I’ll keep that offer in mind, though.”

Placing the refreshed mug in front of him, she placed her elbows on the counter and leaned on them, and he noticed her hips going from left to right, a distracted sway of her body.

Her braid flew behind her shoulder when she looked back at him while he took a sip of his coffee - it was too late for coffee, but still -, watching him, her eyes a dark blue in the faded light.

“Did you know we have a secret menu?” she asked, whispering, even if the two couples still occupying tables were far from the counter enough to not hear their conversation.

Frank watched her face, a pleasant, eager feeling rising up inside him.

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

“It really is a secret. If you promise to keep it, I’ll let you have an item from it.”

“What am I having?” he asked after a second, deciding it was ok if she caught him staring at her lips.

“Will you keep the secret?” she whispered, leaning a little bit closer, making him lean, too.

He nodded, excited, eager, a little giddy, happy, even, when she pursed her lips, pretending to think, hummed a pondering note, and got back up from the counter, turning around and getting a tall cappuccino glass from the shelf and a tin pot of coffee from the fridge on the corner.

“Now, this is new. I don’t even know if it’s good, yet. You’ll be my guinea pig.”

She put a bunch of stuff on the counter in front of him, measuring and mixing and stirring. When she was done, she turned the tin pot on the tall glass, filling it with the cold drink until an inch from the top, finishing it with a layer of whip cream - not the canned shit he didn’t even like, the one he knew they made right there in the kitchen - and a thin layer of powdered chocolate.

With a look at him, she slid the glass on the counter towards him and then leaned back on her elbows.

“There you go.”

It looked like something a teenager would order. He was not the biggest fan of iced coffee, but, for her, he would give it a try. Hell, he had already decided he wold say it was good, even if he hated it.

Which he didn’t. It tasted of the espresso he liked, only cold and with a hint of caramel. She instructed him to stir the whip cream in before drinking it, and the texture was a pleasant one on his tongue. Bitter and sweet and smooth, cold down his throat. He wanted another sip immediately.

Frank looked at her, who was watching him. When their eyes met, she bit on her lower lip and raised her brows at him.

“So?”

He nodded, licking his own lips.

“Very good, ma’am.”

There it is. A non sad smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Reaching her hand, she picked up his mug and took a sip from it. It made him exhale sharply.

“You know what I call it?”

He just looked at her, studying her face, full on staring and hummed his question.

“Castle”, she whispered, sliding the mug back to him, looking at him, her eyes sucking his in, he made no effort to look away.

“Should I feel proud or do you mean an actual castle?”

She shook her head, dropping her gaze from his eyes to somewhere else on his face.

“I don’t mean a castle”, she said, and then looked somewhere behind him. The last table was asking for the check.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked after finishing the drink named after him and getting up to put his jacket on.

“I’ll be here.”

.:.

He watched her closing the door to the café and walking to the door of the shop. He was sitting on a bench on the other side of the street, waiting for her.

Karen saw him just before she turned the lights off. While she locked up, he got up and crossed the street, coming to a halt by her side, leaning on the window display.

“I thought you left”, she said, smiling at him.

He shrugged.

“I thought I could walk you home. It’s late. You shouldn’t walk alone.”

Finishing with the locks, she squinted at him.

“I can take care of myself, mister”. Putting the keys in her purse, she turned to him and reached for his arm. “But since you’re here.”

She took his arm and they walked together towards her building.

She lived almost ten blocks away from work, so he suggested they stopped by his place to get his dogs.

“They must be going crazy, I haven’t walked them since this morning.”

She agreed easily, making cute noises at the two huge pitbulls that greeted them at his door.

The four of them walked slowly to her place, stopping when the dogs needed to stop, not rushing to cross streets when the signs were blinking, talking of nothing and everything.

“Here we are”, she announced, too soon to his liking, and he watched as she rubbed the dog’s faces in farewell. When she rose up again, the smile she offered him was something similar to the ones he was used to.

Frank was about to say goodnight, or maybe something else, when her phone vibrated, very loudly, inside the pocket of her coat. That made her smile fade a bit, her eyes unfocusing from his.

In a move he would have curbed if her face was a different one, he took a step towards her and reached inside her pocket.

“Your phone is ringing”, he said, low, his face inches from hers, and she looked surprised, but not displeased. When he got a hold of the device, he pulled it out and looked away from her to check the caller ID. “It’s ‘Matt’”, he announced, the name sounding sarcastic in his voice. “I’m gonna hang up on him.”

She let out a voiceless laugh when he answered the call, just to end it right after.

“Why did you do that?” she asked in a low, almost lazy voice, standing there so close to him.

“I don’t want you to talk to him.”

“Why not?”

“You’re talking to me, now.”

When he leaned in, her kiss tasted of the sweet coffee drink she had made up, espresso and caramel. They started slow, almost shy, the kind of kiss that Frank thought he had grown out of after high school. Apparently not.

Karen sucked a breath in when he nipped on a tiny portion of her lower lip, and it was like there were embers in his stomach. After that breath, he clutched her phone in his hand and moved to put that same arm around her, pulling her closer, her stomach touching his, her hands raising and resting, one on his arm, another on the collar of his shirt.

Letting go was not something he wanted to do. Not at all. But, he figured, they were standing on the sidewalk, it was late, she probably needed to get home, he did, too, he had work in the morning.

One of the dogs - he really wasn’t sure which one, so focused he was on the sound she was making, a gentle humming, and the feel of her hands on him - bit the hem of his coat, pulling on him, and he moved his hand to stop them, but he slowed down.

Allowing himself another second of two - or three. Five. Ten. Thirty -, he pressed on her lower back and moved to place a smaller, chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“You won’t talk to him. Ok?” he whispered in her ear, liking how she moved her arm in an almost hug around his shoulders.

“Who?”

Calm down, ego.

“Matt”, he said, sarcastic, again, with another kiss to her lips because - because.

“Oh”, she said, chuckling, giggling, a small, timid huff of laughter. “Yeah, ok.”

“You’ll talk to me, now.”

She nodded and moved, asking for another kiss, and he gave it, of course he did, because her mouth, her eyes, her hands, this woman-

“You don’t think about him anymore”, he demanded, suddenly so possessive, he wanted her mind on him until they saw each other again. “You think about me.”

“Only if you think about m-”

“I’ll be thinking about you”, he interrupted. “It’s already all I do.”

Frank felt her smile in her kiss.

“Go in”, he urged after another minute, placing her phone back in her pocket, because he had to let her go.

He had kissed her lipstick completely off. Her cheeks were tinged a flattering shade of pink, her lips were a tad fuller. With a smile she tried to hold, she whispered a goodnight and turned around with another pat on one of the dogs.

He watched her climb one step, then another, then turn around and walk back to him.

He still tasted coffee on her tongue. He still felt something run down his back at the feel of her.

“What if he calls again?” she asked against his mouth, and Frank was losing that battle against himself. “What do I do if he calls again?”

There was a list of things, on the tip of his tongue, graphic and toe curling, he was ready to suggest them all, whisper filthy, amazing things in her ear, that she could do, but he thought maybe it was too early to say them to her.

“You’re not making it easy”, he said against her mouth, and felt her lips curving in a smile.

“Easy?”

“I’m trying to be a good guy, here-”

“Stop trying”, she said, kissing him one more time and then stepping back towards the stairs, climbing the first three steps and then looking back at him, keys in one hand, the other stretched towards him.”I already know you are.”

The thought “rebound” did cross his mind. While he stood there on the sidewalk, holding his dog’s leashes, Frank thought maybe he should go home, maybe he shouldn’t rush this, maybe he should make sure he wasn’t just a way for her not to think about the other guy.

But then, there was still the taste of coffee on his tongue. Castle, she had called it, even before this, which meant-

He doesn’t really care what it means, he can think about that later. Right now she’s reaching for him and he’s taking a step towards her, taking her hand and dropping kisses to her temple while she opened the door, climbing the steps behind her until they reached her apartment.

He did call again, that other guy. Her phone vibrated and vibrated inside her coat pocket, but neither of them heard it. Frank was busy learning what she looked like under her clothes, learning the ways of her body, how she reacted when he touched her here and there, when he kissed her on that spot and this, the look in her face when she was trying to be quiet, long dark lashes against creamy, rosy skin, beads of sweat on her neck, slaty on his tongue.

The dogs heard the phone. It was annoying, they were trying to sleep under her couch, on that nice rug that felt good under their paws. But the damn phone kept vibrating, until it fell from her pocket on the floor and Max got it in his mouth, dropping it by the bed, to maybe force Frank deal with the thing, finally.

.:.

Morning found him awake, looking at her hair against the pillows while she slept.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on the back of her head, not entirely sure how she was going to react to the fact that he was still here.

To is relief and joy, she stirred awake and turned around, opening her eyes briefly, looking at him, smiling and then closing them again, scooting closer to snuggle against his chest.

“I have to go”, he said, hand running up and down her back.

“No”, was her reply, muffled against his skin.

“I have to get to work”. A kiss on her forehead, another on her cheek, forcing her to wake up and look at him. “So do you.”

“No”. This one was whiny, with an arm around his torso, keeping him close. “Let’s stay here.”

Tempting. Very, very tempting, but he had to get the dogs home, he had to eat something, he had to go to work, he had a lot of things to do.

“How about we have lunch?” he suggested, loving the blue in her eyes when she finally opened them. “And then I’ll stop by for coffee.”Another kiss, because why not? “And then we’ll have dinner.” Another. “And then we’ll come back here, or to my place.”

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll take your clothes off again. And you’ll take mine.”

“And then?”

Positioning himself over her, he got a hold of each of her knees and pulled, one leg on each side of him, making her giggle, dropping to kiss her deeply, too deeply, they had to get up, but not right now.

.:.

He kissed her soundly again three streets away from the book shop. He had to go right and get ready for work, she had to go left and open up shop.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, musing on how difficult it was to let go of her.

“I’ll be here”, she answered, like she always did, kissing him again and walking away. He watched her cross the streets and she turned back to look at him. “Go”, she mouthed, smiling, turning back around.

Frank sighed, trying not to grin like an idiot at seven in the morning.

“Come on, let’s go home”, he said to the unimpressed dogs.

Hour later, after their lunch and quick rendezvous in a public bathroom, of all places, after he got off work and went to claim his place on the café counter, she looked at him with her usual smile again, and a hint of something more.

“Hello, Frank”, she said, as if she wasn’t wrapped around him just a few hours ago, biting on his shoulder to keep quiet. “What can I get you today?”

“I heard you have a secret menu?”

She squinted her eyes at him, dropping her voice.

“Who told you that? It’s a secret.”

“I’m well connected.”

With a look that made him swallow dry, she turned around and made his drink for him. He had three before she could leave, and she stole sips from every single one. Finally, when he kissed her again, removing her coat and lowering the zipper of her dress, he tasted Castle on her tongue.

#kastle #kastle fic #kastle ff #kastlelibrary #kastle fluff #Frank and Karen #Karen and Frank #coffee shop au #Hell's Kitchen Chronicles #answered #randomdcrambles #prompt #writing

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