#i was on a boat for 5 hours today. so this is what i thought about to entertain myself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screaminglygay · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER day 1

pairing: siren! natasha x reader

summary: working on a boat sounds like a fun, but what if there is a cold weather?

word count: 3.6k

warnings: heavy manipulation!!!, mind control, toxic dynamic, humping a tail, dirty talk, just smut!, badly written description of what sailors do

an: so the time is here!!!! I’m exited and also anxious, aghh. I’d appreciate any of your feedback and don’t be scared to send me some thoughts! If there are any typos, i sincerely apologize, just let me know and I’ll fix it!

an2: there is a part that was inspired by hp and goblet of fire, i’ve changed most of it, but left some parts, since natasha is siren. felt like it was fitting. and it’s exactly how I imagine natasha’s style of singing.

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

Working on a coast was an incredible experience and for such a long time you were happy to have the oppurtunity to see new things, but most imporantily feel new things.

This spontanious work trip helped you with your mental health more than your therapist in years. You didn´t even mind working alone somedays, since your coworkers had some days shift off. You enjoyed those quiet days, where you didn´t even overthink, you just let your thoughts peacefully be and surprisingly they did the same thing to you.

Seeing things, the old things but with a different font was something you never get tired of. Everything was bigger and prettier. Colorfull sunrises and sunsets, bigger and shiny stars. But when the warm and fuzzy wind was changed by heavy rains and scary thunderstorms, you were really changing your opinion and wishing you were back in your comfy king sized bed, watching another stupid show on Netflix. Not everything was so colorful all the time.

Especially when the weather got cold and nothing was so warm and fuzzy as in the summer. When the first storm came you thought that you can hadle it, alone. You did, but barerly.

But from todays morning, you knew something big is coming and nothing could prepare you for that. You woke up and checked your phone, like you did every signle day and noticed you have one unread message, saying that your coworker, Tobias, can´t make it, because he got sea sick, from all the sailing he did this week. Which is little weird since you´re positive he´s been sailing the day he was born. But even the best of us can get sick sometimes. So youre all alone. You let out a big sigh. You werent mad, no. You were just little scared of the storm that might and most probably will come today.

When you finally got up and looked from the window you could feel that the wind was freezingly cold. Goosebumps begin to form on your arms and neck. The cold feeling seeps through your skin deeper, like a stealthy intruder, sending shivers down your spine. It's an icy touch that grips your body, making your muscles tense.

It´s gonna be a long day.

As always you packed your stuff, fuzzy socks, warm coat, another shirt just in case youll get wet. Lastly you took some snacks and a big amout of soup, hoping your heater wont let you down. And last but not least a lots of tea. As your boss always says "Tea and rum is better than a warm coat." Well you dont have the rum, but the tea will do, at least that´s what youre saying to yourself.

When you got to work, you checked all the papers from yesterday, made sure to know what your tasks will be today. And of course you had to check if the boat is in a good shape to sail the next day. It´s a lot of work, but at least you have a job to do. Not like a week ago, where you just sat and watch as the waves hit the rocks for 12 hours. You noticed that even waves have a simple patterns, its was so hypnotic to watch it hit the big rocks again and again and again.

You slowly checked all the papers to not miss anything important and undeerscore everything that you need to do today. You checked your watch and made a mental note to put the kettle on soon.

Youre working here for about a 5 months now and you still havent figured out your routine. Even though most of the times youre still doing the same job all over again, checking something, writing what needs to be fixed, checking the load, or just watching over the boat, you still do everything at the same time. So sometimes (read it as most of the times) you just forget to do the simple things as taking care of your basic needs. When you and Tobias have shift together, you two kinda take care of eachtoher, but when he´s not there it´s just so easy to forget about it.

But today you did quite good job, after checking the lower deck you came back up to unlock the kitchen and put the kettle on. When youre water was getting ready for your favorite and only tea you had here, you wrote some documentary about the first ship load you had to check. Everything was correct and you were happy that you didn´t have to unpack it and count it manually. Your first break of the day fly past very quickly as you finished your tea, that didnt make you feel warm at all. You put the cup in the sink and went on another round of checking the boat lower deck.

As you stood up something red caught your eye in the distance, you took a few steps closer to the window, hoping you would see better at what it is. It was weird seeing something so bright in the distance, where only the gray waves were moving. But to your disappointment, you didnt got the answer, it was probably some coral from the shore. You shake your head slightly and moved to another task.

When you came up you noticed that it was already dark outside, shockingly it was the same tempetrure as throghtout the day. Which was a positive thing.

How long have I been downstairs? What time is it? I didn´t have lunch... again.

As many thoughts at the same time speed through your mind, you heard something under the boat. You just closed your eyes, taking few deep breaths to calm your nerves. You put down the paperwork and the pen you were holding. Making your way to the kitchen, youve notice that you didn´t even drank much water. Cursing yourself, you drink a half of the bottle right away. The fresh water finally hitting your needs. Refreshing shockwave going through your body. Every cell awaken and all of your sences light up. Already feeling better, taking a moment to make soup and overall just refresh yourself. As you´re finishing your food, you hear it again.

Bang.

This time is was way louder, so you took all of your courage to go out and look what it was. Sometimes you were tought, or maybe you just act before you think things through. You were terrified of the dark and most importantly what´s in it, but this time something made you go out. You were surprised by yourself, but you didnt question it, much.

When you got out you checked the boat, slowly analyzing if something is wrong.

Was it an animal? A fallen brench into the water?

"Hello?" You immidietly cursed yourself. "Im an idiot." You mumble as you walk around. "There is no more pathetic and stupid way to die then just say hello to the dark." You mumble under your breath.

After a while walking around the boat a big strike apeared on the sky. And after few second of a complete silence there was a big thunder coming, that made you run back inside. There it was the big storm you were so terrified of. It was way worse than the last time and you were hoping to survive it.

That´s a little bit dramatic, but your heart was pounding fast, your hands started to shake and even in this cold you very still incredibly sweaty, like if you just ran a marathon in the desert. After few hours of tinkinkng you´ll die, the storm suddently stopped, leaving you all tired and scared at the same time. Until youve heard another sound, it wasnt another bang, it was more like a humming.

Maybe someone from the sailors is here? But they are all men. Maybe someones wife? Again, your thoughts are running milions miles per hour.

The humming sounds so warm, like the old days, back in summer, where everything was colorfull, fuzzy and it felt generally so good in your ears. You stood up and without second guessing you step outside. There was complete silence, not a single person outside, The sun slowly coming out, trying to fight those stromy clouds that were showing the only evidence of heavy storm.

As soon as your hand laid back on the door handle a beautfiul voice start to sing a melodic song. You didnt understand it, it was some language you never heard, but you liked it, your brain might not understand the words, but your body understood the melody. And suddenly you didn´t felt cold, it was the other way around actually. Your cheeks were on fire, like you were running a fever, but you didn´t feel bad, no, you actually felt the best you ever did.

When you turn around you saw her. Unbeiebly beaitiful, goddess looking woman. Her hair was red, not like an apple red, more like a bright fire that is keeping you warm at the coldest nights. Each strand seemed to catch the sunlight that was finally going up, setting her aglow with a vibrant, fiery aura. Her green eyes were pierced at you, she was looking at you, waiting for your move. But you just stood there and watched her, your breathing started to speed up. You tried to remeber evertything about her, but as soon as your eyes fell lower, you noticed how light her skin looked. It reminded you of a fresh marble that was just ready to be cast in. But what caught your off guard the most, was her tail. You´ve never seen aynthing like that and it was very obvious, because youre face made it very well known. It was mixed feeling between shocked and amazed. The siren's tail was a fluid masterpiece, a shimmering blend of oceanic blues and greens. With each sinuous movement, it created a mesmerizing scene.

"Hey sailor." she smirked, her voice sound way raspier than it did when she sang.

"I- I- I´m not a sailor. This is uh not my uh- boat... I just work here." You stutter out, cursing yourself for seeing the prettiest woman your eyes have ever laid on and you ramble out this sentence.

"You just work here? Oh what a pity, I wanted to ask for some help." The red haired frown, which made you feel sad right away.

"I can help! I just... not my boat." You awkwardly chuckled out.

Her eyes immidietly fell back on you. "Oh really? I don´t want to bother since you´re not the sailor of this boat." Her voice sounded so soft, yet harsh at the same time. It was luring you, by every word she said, you felt different emotion each time. A good emotions.

"I mean I´m on a shift now, so teoretically I am sailor of this boat." You smiled, youre pupils were so big and you felt like you were in euhporia.

She smiled softly. Her smile could make a whole army fall to their knees. You knew it, but most imporatnly she did too. But there was only one person she want to fall on their knees. And that person was you.

"Okay then, sailor..." her raspy voice now coming lower to your body, slowly eletrucing you. "I just need a little favor, my tail..." She let out a little whine, completly changing her body language. She didn´t seem so confident, she looked so fragile and sad. And you have to help her.

"Are you hurt?!" You imidditetly walk closer to her. Crouching so youre on the same eye level. She place her hand on yours, looking at you and finally, she bonded. Her touch made you feel cold and warm at the same time. Butterflies flying everywhere not just in your stomach and her eyes. Her captivating eyes has already read you like a whole book. Her eyes were an entrancing shade of emerald, deep and captivating like the hidden depths of the sea. They held an enigmatic allure, with a hint of mischief and ancient wisdom that drew you in, ensnaring your heart and mind.

"A little-" she sigh and looks away. "-maybe you can help me get back, to safety, where no one can find us." The soft spoken woman look at you, making eye contact again, while her hand is still on yours.

"Us?" Your words caught her off guard.

"Yes, us, darling. You know, not all people are kind as you are. Youre the only one who ever made me feel safe. Youre the only one i can trust now. Youre-" she blinks a few times, leaning closer to you. "-youre my saviour. Will you help me, darling? Help us to get to safety? The world is too cruel and we need to decide right now."

This was the task you were waiting your whole life on here. Make sure she is safe, there is nothing else that is more important than this. You nod, still making eye contact.

"I will. Of course!" You nod again, taking this job very seriously, as you felt like you were born for this.

"Say it. Say what you were made to do, darling." Raspiness was now the only thing that you´ve heard. You were less and less interested in your work and your tasks before her.

Before her there was... was there anything before her?

"I will help you. I will help us get to safety." Your eyes scanned her face, hoping these words will help her.

"Thank you my darling, will you follow me? Please?" her eyes were watery, she´s holing back tears and that tears your heart.

"Yes." You say without hasitation.

"Yes, what, darling?" She asks.

"Yes, uh-" suddnely you feel this sensation, your head feels fuzzy and your view is more and more bright. Your words are caugh up in your throat, when you looked at her lips you can see them moving, but your ears cant catch the word she´s saying. But your mind does.

"Yes, mistress." you whisper back as it´s the only thing you can say.

As you closed your eyes for a second, the world around you seemed to blur and fade. The warm feeling never leaving your side.

Time itself shifted, as if you were wrapped in a comforting cocoon. The soft, rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore became a lullaby and there is it was again. Her singing. Her soft and heart warming singing.

When you finally stirred, it was as if you had awakened in a dream. The dimly lit cave, adorned with iridescent seashells and many other decorations, that suited the cave. And there, before you, was a siren of unparalleled beauty, her emerald eyes reflecting the cave's soft luminescence.

"Hello, darling..." she slowly moved towards you "...slept well?" her smirk grew wider as she saw your hand immidietly going between your legs as there was some unbeliveble aching you were feeling.

"I- uh huh" You only nod, not realizing that your hand is going lower on your body.

The siren´s hand falls on your cheeks as she tuck some of your falen hair behind your ear. Not even for a second breaking eye contact. Without second thinking you grab her hands and put them on your body, that was covered in your wet clothes.

"P-please!" Was all you could have said. She just chuckled and squeezed your breasts.

"You don´t even know my name and you want me to fuck you? Aww darling, youre way easier than I thought you would be. So so so easy" She tsked and suddenly, you didn´t felt her hands on you anymore.

"I don´t care!" You yelp as the aching was even worse now. Is this what drugs do to you? You just want more and more and still it isn´t enough.

The siren looked at you shocked, her hand was placed on her chest as a sign of being offended. "Darling, you don´t care what my name is? That´s rude." She pout. Tears immidietly filling her eyes. "And I thought you don´t want to hurt me, yet you´re just like the others." She looked away.

"Wait- No, no, no! Im not like the others, Im sorry! Im so sorry! I want to know your name. Oh gosh I didn´t want to be so selfish!" You grabbed her arm. "Please, tell me your name, I bet it´s beautiful just like you!"

"You think Im beautiful?" Her green eyes falling back on you.

"Very." You nod.

"It´s Natasha." She wiped her tears.

"Okay, Natasha. Im sorry for being selfish, It was really mean, let me make it up to you, please." You felt so sad, like every joy just left your body forever. Like you didn´t even experience a single happy thing in your life. Like everything was just dark.

"You´re right, you did act very selfish and mean. And you should definetly make it up to me, (Y/N)." Natasha seems so small right now, like a small fish in a big dark ocean.

"Anything you want, just please- forgive me." You basically whined at this point.

"(Y/N), you truly hurted my feelings, I don´t know. How can i trust you not hurting me again?" The horrible feeling of guilt is forming not just in your stomach, but also in your head now.

Natasha looked really hurt by your words. And you felt like if you´ll lose her, you´ll lose yourself, forever.

You squeezed her hand. "I will never. How can i prove it to you? Please..." You knew this will work. "... mistress, let me prove to you, I won´t ever hurt you and Im truly so sorry!"

Her eyes shifted, her pretty green color in her eyes just dissapeared and turned into black.

"Take of your clothes. They´re wet, you will get sick. Aren´t you cold, darling?" At her words you did feel the cold breeze. Actually you were freezing.

"Y-y-yeah, Im freezing." You said while your teeth chattered.

"Oh, darling! Clothes off, righ now!" She ordered and you did as she told. "I don´t want you catch a cold!" Her voice was caring, so caring you didn´t think you deserve it, after how mean you´ve been acting towards her.

As you stand there, completly naked the shivering didn´t end, it got even worse and your nipples could cut dimonds now.

"You´re still cold? Oh, darling, come here." She pointed at her tail. "My tail is warm, it´s gonna keep you from freezing to death." Her smile could cure everything negative thing in this world.

Without second guessing you almost jumped at her, your hand wanting to touch her tail, but you stopped yourself. "May I? Mistress?" Natasha just nodded. You hand immidietly touching her tail.

It´s so soft, oh my god and warm! So so warm.

"Sit on it, darling." She take your hands and guided you on her tail. "It will make you warm, so warm, it will end the shivers, I promise."

So you did. You sat on her tail and if you felt tingles everywhere before, then now there are tignles even in places you don´t have. Running your fingers along its sleek, supple surface was like caressing a piece of heaven. Its velvety texture and gentle, soothing warmth enveloped you in a sense of euphoria, as if you were touching a living embodiment of comfort and enchantment, a sensation that melted away all of your less important other thoughts.

Natasha noticed you´re still shivering and put her hand on your hips. "Darling, if you start to move you will stop shivering. Fast friction makes heat and you really need to be in heat now, darling." Natasha was right, her words were exactly what you needed, but you just didn´t know how.

How can I do this? I don´t want to hurt her tail.

"You won´t hurt my tail, darling. I will guide you, okay?" Her strong hands squeezed your hips and slowly made you move back and forth. "Just like that, you´re doing so good."

After a little while you start to get the hang of it and you felt that amazing friction again. Everything started to feel so good, all the lost joy, all the good feeling are back. All the happy thoughts.

"Oh my god- it´s really working!" You screamed.

"I know, darling. I can feel you on my tail. Keep going." She wispered in your ear.

You did. Oh boy, you did. You moved your hips back and forth faster and faster. And at the same time it got easier, maybe it´s the tail, or maybe it´s the fact that your juices were all over Natasha.

You definetly felt the heat.

Few moments before you came and let all of your juices on the siren´s tail, she started to sing again. In the same language you couldn´t understand before, but you can now. It´s like you know the song all your life.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing alone in the dark,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We're gonna take what you'll sorely miss,

But not for long you gonna think,

Let us help, and you won´t sink.

Your life might have been so perfect,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

After the red head stopped singing, she looked at you and finally closed the gap between you two. Your first kiss was a moment of exquisite tenderness, a meeting of souls that overlap the boundaries of land and sea. As their lips brushed together, it was a gentle, captivating exchange of warmth and desire. In that soft, lingering kiss, they found a connection that was as deep and boundless as the ocean itself, a love that defied all expectations and left you utterly in her arms.

"I forgive you, darling." Natasha said and you knew, you found your life task. As she holds you close on her tail your eyes fell back into the warm fuzzy feeling, you didn´t mind be in forever.

Hope you enjoyed first day of KINKTOBER!

Thank you for reading!!!

#adele writes #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #kinktober 2023 #marvel universe #natasha romanoff smut #siren!nat #first day

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notafragilething · 6 months ago

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Late Night Buck & Tommy Ramble: Shit is getting interesting

I honestly thought today was going to be fucking chill with no promo and maybe only a whisper or two about tomorrow's episode. We currently have 21 hours left until the new episode airs and we have so much to unpack because everyone is just out there wilding right now

Get yourself a drink and a snack and prepare yourself. There is a lot to discuss. Minor spoilers for tomorrow's episode in regards to stills and vague-ish comments by people who have seen the episode.

Buck & Tommy Related Chaos:

I'm going to start with the chaos: OLIVER AND LOU ARE DOING A JOINT INTERVIEW that was filmed today for Access Hollywood / Access Daily that will air tomorrow before the episode.

I am in total shock by this because I've been vocal that I didn't even think we'd get more interviews from these two before the season ended. I would have never dreamed that they'd have them doing a joint interview together.

This is a pretty huge (and good) sign, in my opinion. You wouldn't suddenly have two actors going out doing press together unless (from a marketing point of view) you're trying to promote that couple to the audience. This to me really does suggest they're planning on keeping Lou around and pushing BuckTommy.

I've heard crazy speculation about what the interview will be about but it airs before the episode so likely we won't get major spoilers. We'll likely see the two talking about their characters, what it's like working together and hinting at what is going to happen moving forward.

With that said, I'm really curious at how they're going to sell this on the show. We've already seen Ryan hitting the talking point that Eddie is straight in recent weeks, which seems to be an attempt to distancing themselves from Buddie. This interview tomorrow may possibly give us an idea where their heads are at moving forward.

Regardless, I think this is a strong indicator that Tommy isn't going anywhere anytime soon. I know some people are trying to downplay this as happening because Bi Buck was such a huge storyline but they could have easily just had Oliver on the show. Them having both of them makes this about their relationship, not just Buck coming out as Bi and that's a pretty big shift from the marketing we saw around episodes 4-5.

Lou also posted about it on his Instagram and Ryan liked it.

Also I cannot remember a time that they had Oliver doing interviews with his love interest on the show. Can anyone else?

The kiss on Instagram reels continues to do well. It's almost at 1.2 million, sitting currently at 1183k.

General Cast Information:

Let's start simple with the tweets coming out from press who saw tomorrow's episodes. The overwhelming theme with all of them seems to be a warning for us to prepare for some hurt. I'm preparing myself to watch Hen, Bobby and Eddie all go through hell tomorrow based on what we've seen on social media over the last 24 hours. So let's get into that.

Hen: Early today the official Instagram posted stills from the earlier episode where the councilwomen's son refuses treatment after he accident and dies (which leads to Hen being investigated). They then captioned this "A moment from the past can become so pivotal for your future" because clearly they want to hurt us. It also seems like that congress women is in the episode and we see her in one of the stills at the medal ceremony.

Bobby: It seems like he's going to have a nice father/son moment with Buck at some point this episode based on the stills and what Oliver has hinted at. But I think he'll also definitely be dealing with guilt.

Eddie: Dude I don't even know. Between Marisol being at the medal ceremony with him and Christopher and him taking a row boat out with Kim? This is going to get ugly.

All of the stills were really happy and we know that isn't what is happening in this episode so I'm pretty sure they're from the first 15 or 20 minutes. This show has been fucking with our heads with these promos.

We're very, very likely to get a sneak peak sometime tomorrow along with the Oliver&Lou interview.

I might attempt to make a ramble post talking about the interview prior to the episode depending on what time it airs.

So how are we all feeling? Cause I'm having all the fucking emotions.

#911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #firepilot

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drafthorsemath · 9 months ago

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Tooka Dad (Retcon'd with Batcher)

Crosshair x Veterinarian OC Rayla

Word Count: 6.606k

Warnings: None really – Fluff, new relationship, cuddling, bed sharing. Brief descriptions of a stray animal in need of medical attention, TLC, and spaying. Brief mentions of Crosshair’s medical trauma / tomophobia.

A/N: This came to my brain and now it’s words. I don’t know what else to say about it. No description of Rayla’s appearance outside of her being fem and using she/her pronouns. I'm reposting because I love Batcher and now she's included in the story. Season 3 Episode 5 really pushed me over the edge. Batcher loves Crosshair so much. Thank you to @eclec-tech and @lightwise for the encouragement.

It had been months since Crosshair had rejoined his siblings and they found themselves on Pabu. The adjustment had been difficult. It was still difficult. There were many things he wouldn’t speak about. His brothers gave him some space, not pushing too much, but making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. He, Omega, and Tech had spent time together healing physically after all that had happened, as well as healing whatever mental wounds they could. Those were taking the most time, especially for Crosshair.

He didn’t want to leave the house today, but Wrecker insisted (in his own Wrecker way) that he come to the docks and help move some cargo. Crosshair rolled his eyes but got to his feet and followed his brother down to the ocean with Batcher trotting beside him. They spent the morning moving crates from boats on to the docks, but as the sun continued to beam down on them, Crosshair’s eyes started to ache from the light.

“I got it from here,” Wrecker said, knowing his brother’s sensitivity. Crosshair simply nodded his thanks and headed toward some shade where Batcher napped. Before he could sit down, he saw something small scamper away from behind one of the crates Wrecker picked up. He followed the movements and knelt down, looking under a bench that sat under a tree.

“What is it,” Wrecker asked.

A tiny gray tooka kitten peered at them through crusty eyes. Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the little creature could see.

“Tooka,” Crosshair answered. Wrecker knelt down further and smiled at the scared kitten.

“A baby tooka? Aww, Crosshair we gotta take it home.” Wrecker smiled and tried to make space so he could grab the little ball of fur, but the kitten would have none of it and scurried to hide behind the other side of the bench.

“Just wait,” the Crosshair advised. His brother sighed but nodded and got back to work. Instead of sitting on the bench, Crosshair sat on the ground next to it. The next two hours were spent waiting for the animal to come out. He wasn’t going to force anything. Wrecker checked in after he was done with the crates. Although the tooka hadn’t moved, he knew that if anyone had the patience to wait it out and earn its trust, it was Crosshair. Wrecker went home, grabbed some lunch, and brought it back. He silently held out some homemade bread and fruit to his brother and sat next to him as they silently ate with Batcher quietly snoring in the background. The tooka let out a little squeak and Wrecker saw just the smallest tug of a smile on his Crosshair’s face. Eventually Wrecker decided to head home and help Tech with moving some big equipment.

As the time passed, Crosshair thought of his time away from his siblings. How much doubt and fear were in his heart despite deciding to stay on the platform on Kamino. Of the ongoing pain he had each time his chip was enhanced. The absolute horror in his soul when his actions felt like they were someone else’s, but he knew his hands pulled the trigger. He had never wanted to lose control and yet the Empire had him in its grasp and his mind wasn’t fully his own. He’d been so conditioned and the chip only added another layer of complexity. He closed his eyes and sighed as he pressed his hands flat on the ground beneath him in an attempt to center himself in the here and now. Batcher had woken up and sat next to him. He put a hand on the hound and breathed deeply while still keeping his eyes closed. He wasn’t alone anymore. Just as he had this thought, he felt some tiny fluff brush against his hand. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting next to his fingertips. He gently picked up the creature and stood. The tooka didn’t make a sound and didn’t fight as Crosshair walked them back to Upper Pabu. He was fairly certain the lack of fight was only because the animal was fur and bones.

“Tech,” was all he said upon finding his brother working on the Marauder. Tech stood, adjusting his goggles, and raised his eyebrows.

“A tooka,” he replied, “and in a sorry state.”

Crosshair hummed in agreement. Tech knew this was his brother’s way of asking for help. He pulled out his datapad and examined the kitten in Crosshair’s hands.

“There appears to be an eye infection, parasites, and a serious lack of nutrition,” noted Tech. “I could possibly find some food for her, but I cannot immediately find appropriate medication for her ailments. Why don’t you take her to the veterinarian?”

Crosshair sighed. At least he now knew the tooka was a she and some of what was going on with her, but he wasn’t quite sure about a veterinarian. He didn’t want this little girl to be scared any more than she already was and he understood how anything medical might cause her more fear. Then again, she looked miserable and he couldn’t let her stay that way.

“Alright,” he agreed. He didn’t even realize the island had a veterinarian. Tech gave him the location and he headed back down the path.

It had been a long day for Rayla. One of Pabu’s residents had decided to buy a pair of orbaks to help cart goods around and she hadn’t treated anything with hooves since veterinary school. One of them was particularly stubborn, but she liked a good challenge. It was never about forcing something on an animal. It was about reading body language and helping them feel safe enough to get through any needed procedures.

She looked up as a tall man came through the door. She smiled to herself. Rayla had spent time with his brothers since they settled on Pabu and Omega was fascinated with her career choice. They talked about him briefly, but she hadn’t met him yet.

“Hello,” she said with a soft smile. “Crosshair, right? I’m Rayla. How can I help you?”

Crosshair looked at the woman in front of him and then down at the tiny tooka. “Found her,” he said. He didn’t seem surprised she knew his name. There were some people on the island who guessed who he was based on association.

“Just the tooka? Your hound alright?" Rayla asked, nodding toward Batcher.

"Yes, she just follows me." He gave Batcher a nod and she sat down and waited patiently.

"How about you come back to the exam room and we’ll take a look at this little one,” Rayla offered. He simply nodded and followed. Crosshair looked around the room, almost more afraid than the tooka. There were various instruments, and he was sure there were even more in the cabinet. The veterinarian washed her hands and put on some gloves.

“How about we start with a weight?” she suggested, nodding to the scale. Crosshair put the kitten down, almost afraid to let go. She weighed much less than she should. Rayla noted her weight and then suggested a particular food for her. He nodded and moved her off the scale. He couldn’t quite keep his hands off her, trying to keep the contact while the exam was completed for fear of losing her or seeing her scared.

“She’s got an eye infection. I can give you drops for those and show you how to put them in.” He nodded. He noticed Rayla stopped and gave the kitten a little break and spoke kindly to her before looking through her fur.

“She has fleas too.”

His eyes got wide, but he still didn’t pull away from her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Fleas are species specific. Her fleas won’t harm anyone but other tookas. We can give her a flea bath now if you’d like.” Crosshair nodded and let out a little relieved breath.

He held on to her while Rayla filled a small tub with warm water. Crosshair tentatively put the small creature in the tub. While the veterinarian worked the shampoo in and rinsed, he held the kitten and helped keep her head up. The little tooka clung to his thumb with her front legs and Rayla couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s really taken with you,” she said.

“Mm,” was all he let out, but his eyes went soft.

“Are you planning on keeping her or would you like me to find her a hom-“

“No,” he firmly blurted out before quieting his tone again. “I’ll keep her.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, getting a towel.

Crosshair took it upon himself to wrap her up. Rayla showed him how to put drops in her eyes.

“In about a week you could give her a dewormer pill.”

He nodded and followed her out of the room. She gathered the dewormer pill, some food for the kitten - explaining that for the time being she needed food that would be easy on her digestive system - and a lightweight slip lead. Rayla put everything in a bag and handed it to him. Getting out a data pad for her records, she asked if the newly adopted animal had a name yet.

“Vaar’ika,” he said.

“What does it mean?” she asked curiously.

“Pip-squeak.” Just as he said that, Vaar’ika let out tiny peep that made Rayla smile. She entered the relevant information.

“Well then,” she replied, “congratulations Vaar’ika. And congratulations Tooka Dad.”

Crosshair felt warmth flood his cheeks and ears, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He nodded at all Rayla’s directions about the dewormer and a follow up appointment.

As he left, Rayla couldn’t help but think that she quite liked him. He may have said very few words, but he was so expressive. He was easy for her to read and she knew she could trust a man who adopted an ailing kitten without question.

Crosshair took Vaar’ika home. Wrecker had already told Echo, Hunter, and Omega about her and Omega waited at the window to meet this new addition to the family. Crosshair came through the door with Batcher and held the little one close to his chest. She was exhausted and he could feel her little body shake from the stress of the day.

“I want to help,” Omega declared.

Crosshair didn��t say anything as he walked toward his bedroom. He simply nodded in the general direction of the hallway and Omega’s smile grew as she knew it meant she should follow him. Crosshair put the tiny bundle on his bed and started looking for something to make a tooka bed next to Batcher's bed.

“What’s wrong with her eyes?” Omega asked.

“Infection,” Crosshair answered. “Needs to be given eye drops for a few days at least.”

“I can help,” Omega answered.

“Omega,” Crosshair warned. He knew she was excited, but he wanted to approach the kitten’s treatment in a methodical way. He looked at his sister for several moments and then nodded. “Fine, but she won’t need more drops until tomorrow.”

Crosshair shuffled through his belongings in his closet and found an old pair of blacks. He used a spare pillow to make something of a little bed with the blacks as a bedding. He placed the new bed on the floor near his own. Omega watched as the little tooka crawled on the bed closer to her brother. He put her on the new bed and quietly told her he’d be back soon. Omega followed him down the hall and grinned at her other brothers who were all at least a bit curious about their new roommate. While Crosshair grabbed a small plate and spoon and headed back to his room, Omega helped Echo and Hunter with dinner.

Vaar’ika was hiding under his bed, but Crosshair sat down, opened a can of food, and spooned out a little on the plate, waving Batcher away from the tempting smell. He placed the plate of food on the floor and she came out to eat. He smiled while watching her. She had an appetite and he knew that was important in her healing. He retrieved a little bowl of water for her and gave her a bit more food. After she finished eating and drinking, she jumped up on the window and pawed at it. Crosshair pursed his lips and then decided to take her outside. He looped the leash around her and picked her up. His hunch was right. Almost immediately, she found a spot to relieve herself. Maybe he had lucked out when it came to house training.

When finished, she tried climbing his leg and he picked her up. Her eyes were less messy than they were before, and he could make out the way she looked at him. He felt a little glow in his heart at the thought that this creature had chosen him and wanted to be with him. He took her back inside, took off the leash, and placed her back on the makeshift bed. During dinner with his siblings some questions were asked, but no one asked if he would be keeping her. Based on what they saw, they knew she would stay and it would be a good change.

Once dinner was over, Crosshair made his way back to his room to give Vaar’ika another small meal. She ate it quickly and climbed on the window again. He took her out and this time she wandered around a little bit, exploring her new home. He took her back in, holding her in the crook of his arm and heading to bed. He placed her on her own bed next to Batcher, but once he climbed into his own, he could see her moving in the darkness. She made her way up the side of his bed post and purred as she snuggled against his chest. Crosshair smiled to himself and fluffed her hair. Batcher decided she would fit in the bed too and hopped up. She laid down near Crosshair's feet. Crosshair sighed, but wasn't going to say "no." It wasn't long before they drifted off to sleep together.

Crosshair spent the next few days helping his new companion find her feet. They established morning and evening walk routes. He purchased a little pink collar for her, making sure it included her name and his. It wasn’t long before he was comfortable taking her around off-leash. She never wandered too far and for the most part, seemed to like watching this world from her perch on his shoulders. He let Omega hold Vaar’ika when it was time to put her eyedrops in, but he never let Omega put the drops in. Finally Omega managed to wear him down and convinced him to let her try. Crosshair held the kitten, holding her back to his chest and supporting her back end with one hand. Omega approached the tooka’s eyes with the dropper bottle, aiming for the middle of her left eye.

“Omega, no!” It came out a little louder than he meant. He leaned back to pull his little bundle away. He gave his sister a warning look. She looked confused and a little hurt. He took a deep breath and found calm again. Until he had visited Rayla, he wouldn’t have known what to do either. It wasn’t fair to expect Omega to know without help.

“Aim for the corner of her eyes. It’s easier that way.” He offered her a smile and Omega tried again, this time leaving a couple little drops in each corner of Vaar’ika’s eyes.

“Perfect,” he said to his sister. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Omega replied.

He was supposed to give the tooka her dewormer pill, but wasn’t sure he could do it and certainly didn’t expect Omega to. Batcher took her medication without question, but the tooka appeared more stubborn. He remembered Rayla’s instructions as he sat Vaar’ika on his bed and held the tiny pill between his thumb and finger.

“Simply open her mouth, pop the pill in, and hold her mouth closed until she swallows,” Rayla had said. He hadn’t thought much about it since at the time, he knew it was a future problem and he was only focused on eye drops and establishing some routines. Now that it came to it, he looked at his little friend and couldn’t just open her mouth. And what, he thought. Force her to swallow a pill? It reminded him too much of the procedures he and his brothers had been forced through. He remembered thinking a warning before a necessary injection or asking him if he was ready would have helped him a great deal as a young cadet, yet he had never really been afforded that dignity.

He sighed to himself, picked up Vaar’ika and the pill, and marched to the vet clinic. Rayla was just finishing with a client and about to go to lunch when he walked in.

“Crosshair!” She beamed at him, happy to see him with the tooka. “And Vaar’ika. How are you?”

“I can’t give her the pill,” he said directly.

“Did she not want it?” Rayla asked. Many animals had trouble taking medication and it wasn’t an uncommon concern. “Did she spit it up?”

“No,” Crosshair said, revealing he still had the pill in its original form. “I can’t make her take it.”

Rayla sensed a great amount of empathy in him. He seemed scared to hurt this kitten, this small creature he’d already becoming so very attached to.

“She might take it if you mix it in her food. Is she still eating?”

Crosshair nodded.

“Okay,” Rayla acknowledged. “Cut the pill in quarters and put it in her dinner tonight. If she doesn’t eat it all, stop by tomorrow and we’ll see about another way.”

Crosshair nodded again.

“May I?” Rayla asked, hands out to touch the tooka. Crosshair nodded a third time and Rayla petted the little pile of fluff. She purred at the vet.

“I’m glad to see her eyes have cleared up,” she said. “She probably doesn’t need the drops anymore after tomorrow. Just keep the rest of the bottle should she need them in the future. She already looks so much better. She’ll need a few vaccines as soon as you feel she’s strong enough and she’ll be old enough to spay in a couple months. Unless you want more kittens.”

Crosshair froze a bit. He’d assumed that was further down the road, but not this soon. He didn’t want her to get pregnant. He wanted to do the responsible thing for her and was sure Hunter would have a few words with him if there were kittens. Besides, he didn’t want to worry about her going through pregnancy and labor.

“Let’s schedule that now,” he said.

Rayla nodded and pulled up her schedule. He’d be back in a week for the vaccines. They decided on a day for the spaying and she gave him instructions for what to do the night before and day of as far as food and water.

“See you both in a week for vaccines,” she said as they left.

Crosshair held Vaar’ika a little closer to his chest, hugging her before letting her perch on his shoulders. He didn’t like the thought of putting her through surgery or even the vaccinations. He knew they were necessary, but he didn’t want her in pain ever. Still, he knew it was for the best. To help him relax, he took the long way home, chuckling as Vaar’ika hissed at a few moon-yos who tried reaching for her. His thoughts also went to this veterinarian. Most people on the island were nice enough, but he didn’t let anyone close. This person was watching him at some very vulnerable moments whether she knew it or not.

That evening he cut the dewormer pill up into quarters and mixed it into the tooka food. He placed the plate down and Vaar’ika started eating. She paused at one point, knowing there was something different, and Crosshair held his breath. She took a taste and didn’t seem to mind and finished the entire thing. He felt so much relief. That night, like every night at this point, the kitten climbed into his bed and cuddled against his chest while Batcher hopped onto the foot of the bed and they all slept together. When Vaar'ika got up to stretch her feet or if she needed to go outside, he immediately woke up at the loss of her tiny body’s warmth. Then they’d get back to bed and fall asleep together.

Crosshair started finding reasons to visit the vet clinic in the days leading up to vaccination day. The smallest question about changing her food as she grew, asking questions about exercise, and some of the more mundane things. Some questions about Batcher (who, apparently, had already been spayed). He knew that he just wanted to see Rayla and have an excuse to get outside with his girls. Rayla didn’t mind. He always patiently waited if she was already with someone or had an appointment. She liked seeing him and the positive impact the tooka and the sniper had on each other. She let Crosshair say as much or as little as he wanted. She asked questions but knew when to back off. She wasn’t a completely open book, but she shared parts of herself with him too. He got curious and asked how she ended up on Pabu one day after she’d shown him how to make sure the kitten’s nails didn’t get too long. She explained how she left her home world when the Empire started taking over cities on the other side of her planet. She wasn’t going to wait around to see what would happen.

“Smart,” he replied. Rayla smiled sadly. She missed her former home, but knew she was lucky to be here. The threat of sea surges was much less daunting than dealing with the Empire.

“See you next time, Crosshair.”

He let a tiny smile escape and he left.

When he showed up for the kitten’s scheduled vaccines, he was a bit of a mess. He didn’t want her to be upset or hurt, but he also didn’t want to risk her dying of something preventable.

“I’ll be quick and I’ll use the smallest needle I have,” Rayla promised. “Do you want me to take her in the back and just get it over with or do you want to be with her?” She knew some animals did better away from their nervous person, but it was very much a case-by-case situation.

“I can’t leave her,” he replied.

Rayla nodded and instinctively put a hand on his arm. He let out a breath. They went back in the exam room and she weighed the tooka, noticing she’d put on a good amount of weight.

“Would you like to sit and hold her instead of keeping her on the exam table?” the vet asked.

Crosshair nodded and sat down, holding Vaar’ika. A small smile pulled at his cheek and he relaxed as she looked up at him. She wasn’t scared. The little fluff ball was just happy to be with him.

“I’ll be quick. Just two little jabs. Here we go.” Rayla moved quickly and precisely. The kitten let out a couple of squeaks, but nothing too bad. After it was over, Rayla smiled as she heard him quietly telling Vaar’ika what a great job she did. As he was about to leave, Rayla decided to take her chance.

“Hey, not to be too forward,” she started, suddenly feeling very nervous now that she was putting this into words. Crosshair turned back to look at her curiously.

She continued, trying to keep any shakiness at bay. “You’ve stopped by a lot and we’ve gotten to know each other more and I was just thinking… if you want to spend some time together after hours, let me know.”

“Dinner?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Tomorrow?”

“You know when I close.”

“I’ll be here.”

Both felt a warmth radiate over their cheeks as they said their goodbyes for the day. Crosshair carried his little bundle home while his mind ran wild with all kinds of thoughts. He didn’t want to let his nerves get to him and at the same time, he was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Rayla. He had to grin to himself. She liked his company. He hadn’t gotten very close to anyone who wasn’t a clone. There was an understanding with his brothers. He’d grown up with them. Omega was incredibly understanding of everyone, almost to the point of his annoyance, and yet he felt just as close to her as he had anyone in his life. Even with the regs, there was an understanding. Learning about someone in-depth with a completely different background was a newer experience to him, but he found that Rayla embraced each bit of himself that he revealed. Even when he was having an extra grumpy and stressful day, she seemed happy to see him.

The next evening, he left Vaar’ika and Batcher with Wrecker and Omega. They were more than happy to babysit the tooka and hound. They were having a movie night and Crosshair knew each animal would be doing her utmost to steal their snacks. The thought made him very happy.

He tried to pick out his nicest outfit and headed to the vet clinic. He sat in the waiting room and listened to Rayla explain the medication dosage for someone’s pet bird. Rayla joined him a few minutes after the bird and their owner left. She’d quickly changed out of her scrubs and into a simple dress before joining him.

“You look nice,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.”

“I thought I’d try to wear something nicer than my scrubs,” she replied.

“You’d look nice in anything,” he said as heat rose to his cheeks.

Rayla wasn’t sure what to say. She felt seen and beamed up at him. They headed to a quiet restaurant on the other side of the island. While people all tended to know each other on Pabu, they both wanted some time just the two of them so the calmer spot seemed more ideal. They ordered and sat while watching the sun start to set.

“I’ll level with you,” Rayla said. “I’ve talked to your siblings. I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but I want to learn about you from you.”

He simply nodded. “Not much to say,” he replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Rayla asked him some questions, wanted to know a bit about sniping, and how he liked the island. She was also interested in his enhanced skills. The scientist in her was curious, but she wanted to keep it respectful. Crosshair’s comments were short as usual, but as time went by and they ate, he shared a bit more about himself. For now, they avoided the topic of the Empire.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said before taking a sip of his drink. He was much more interested in learning about her than talking about himself.

“I think you already know a lot about me from our earlier conversations,” she answered.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully with a bit of a smile on his face. “Have you always worked alone? You do so much.”

“I had a vet tech until I came here. Actually, I purchased a GH-7 medical droid recently and I’m trying to modify it for veterinary work.”

“Tech will be pleased to hear that,” Crosshair replied. “He loves those kinds of projects. He’ll pick your brain next time he sees you.” Crosshair was pleased too. He saw how hard she worked and felt she needed a bit of a break sometimes. Having an assistant could go a long way in helping make her job easier.

“I’m sure. If I run into trouble Tech’s the first person I’d ask for help when it comes to droids.” She took a couple more bites of food and added, “Of course it helps to have the personal touch and I’ll still be very involved. It’ll just help to have a droid to do some of the more routine and boring things, measuring out and compounding medication, answering comms, billing, ordering supplies, passing my tools during surgeries, and making sure procedures are as precise as possible.” She then told a story about a droid she knew in vet school who was reprogrammed to only want to work on massiffs. A couple of her fellow vet students thought it would be funny for the professor’s droid to randomly refuse to help with other animals during demonstrations and who tried to switch places with other droids so it could work exclusively on massiffs. He watched her with a soft smile on his face while she told this story. As she finished, she paused for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to go on. It was just a silly thing to watch unfold.”

“No, I liked it,” he replied. He didn’t want her to stop. “Dessert?”

She beamed and nodded. They shared a piece of cake topped with all kinds of local fruit. He let her have the last bite but hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they shared a meal. He walked her home and once at the door bit his lip as his eyes darted a bit.

“Could we do this again?” he asked.

“What are you doing on Benduday?”

Each date felt a little more comfortable than the last. His favorite dates were whenever they would go out on a boat together just the two of them. It was incredibly peaceful and gave him the chance to be a bit more open without worrying about anyone else around them.

One evening she was supposed to meet him at the restaurant and didn’t. He’d brought flowers and wore a new shirt and definitely didn’t love the feeling of sitting at the table alone. He thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time where he was consistently seeking the presence of another person instead of solitude or time alone with his pets. Before he could spiral and let too many negative thoughts enter his mind, he decided to check at the clinic. He knew there might have been an emergency that required her attention. When he arrived, the clinic door was unlocked and he saw a light coming from an exam room. He let himself in and sat in the waiting area.

In the exam room, Rayla explained the situation to the worried owner. Her scans indicated a foreign object blocking the stomach and she and GHost – the now modified GH-7 droid – completed surgery to remove the offending mass. She sent the patient and their person home with a course of medication to help. Not long after they left, Rayla came out to find Crosshair dozing in his chair. She walked up to him and kissed his forehead.

“Mm.” He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an emergency.”

“I know,” he replied, standing up and kissing her cheek. “These are for you.”

She took the flowers and kissed him again. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” After a pause and check of the time, she added, “I’ll clean up quickly. Walk me home?”

He nodded and waited as she cleaned off all the equipment and the table in the exam room, turned out the lights, and took his hand. They took their time walking together. It was a pleasant night and both were a little sad they didn’t get to have a relaxing dinner together.

“We should go out after Vaar’ika heals from her spay surgery,” Rayla suggested, knowingly adding, “I know you won’t want to leave her until she’s all healed up.”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be okay,” he answered. “But yes. I’d like that.”

She squeezed his hand and they grinned at each other.

The night before Vaar’ika’s spay, Crosshair was a mess. The only thing that calmed him down was Batcher resting at his feet and the little tooka herself. She had no idea what was coming but was simply living in the moment and in this moment, she wanted to sleep on his chest. He sat in front of a holovid with his family and slowly stroked the her soft fur. They fell asleep together as usual, but the next morning, his jitters were back.

He walked her to the clinic with Batcher at his side. He let Vaar'ika perch on his shoulder, but carried a crate since she would still be drowsy on the way home and Rayla insisted she needed a crate to limit movement while she healed.

“Good morning,” Rayla said as they came through the door. “Ready?”

Crosshair didn’t respond but tried to smile.

“She’s going to do great. I even have my droid GHost ready to go, unless you aren’t comfortable with him assisting me.”

Crosshair simply shook his head that he didn’t mind. “I trust you.”

Rayla took Vaar’ika and the crate as Crosshair tried to decide if he wanted to sit or pace. Her experience said that getting this over with was the best plan. Her voice softened and she tried to reassure him.

“It won’t take long. I’ll make sure she has pain management and that she’s fully anesthetized, so she doesn’t feel anything during the procedure.”

He nodded and sat down. He was not so secretly relieved Batcher sat next to him. He rested a hand on her as Rayla took the tooka to the back to prepare her for surgery. GHost weighed her and drew the appropriate levels of medication. As the tooka went to sleep and Rayla shaved her belly, Crosshair could hear the calm way she addressed his little companion.

“Looks like you’re asleep already. Oxygen levels and heart rate are normal. Let’s begin.” It wasn’t long before Crosshair heard her say, “There’s that little uterus. Tiny thing. Already out. Let’s close.”

Crosshair started shaking but breathed through it. The adrenaline that was coursing through his system all morning had finally started to wear off and it left him feeling a bit dizzy. He sat back and focused on his breathing while he heard the woman he loved talking sweetly to Vaar’ika and felt Batcher's sense of calm. Not long after, Rayla reappeared with a sleepy tooka in the crate. Without thinking about it, Crosshair embraced her as he became overwhelmed with relief.

“She did great, love. She really did. She should heal up perfectly.” Rayla went over care instructions and ended it with “She should stay in her crate as much as possible for the first week. No climbing or jumping. I used surgical glue that has some bacta in it so she will heal faster. Try to keep that cone on her so she doesn’t lick.” Crosshair nodded. “And comm me if anything comes up.”

Vaar’ika slept most of the day. She whined a bit at dinner time and Crosshair let her outside only long enough to relieve herself and then it was back inside before she could go exploring. She seemed like her normal self but was also pretty groggy. He ate in his room so he could watch her and made sure she took her medication and ate enough. That night, he knew he was supposed to let her sleep in her crate, but the drugs from earlier had worn off enough that she knew exactly where she was and didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to sleep in bed with him. She cried until he relented and purred as she snuggled up against him in his comfortable bed.

The next morning was the hardest. She felt an ache at the incision site and it clearly hurt her to move compared to yesterday, despite the pain medication. He tried not to think too hard about it, feeling unsure of when to ask for help and what was normal. She’d had surgery after all, it was impossible for her to feel completely healed in less than a single day. He laid around the house with her, cuddling her close since that seemed to help her stay more comfortable. He was grumpier with his siblings, though. He tried to keep to himself, but once Omega and Wrecker started playing and making a bit of a racket, he took Vaar’ika to the clinic with Batcher following as usual. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was going. He didn’t think it was an emergency, but knew Rayla would be done with her work, barring anything urgent. He sat in the waiting room and talked gently to the little ball of tired fluff laying in his arms. He rhythmically stroked her fur, but didn’t feel her usual happy purr.

“She okay?” Rayla asked, appearing as she finished cleaning up the exam room.

“Not sure,” Crosshair replied.

“Mind if I look?”

Crosshair handed the tooka over to Rayla who carefully turned her over.

“Looks like it’s healing fine. Don’t see any sign of infection. She might just be in a bit more pain than anticipated. I can give her an extra little med patch if you want to try that.”

Crosshair nodded. As Rayla retrieved a patch and cut it down to the right size, she asked, “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a lot on your mind and you look… gruff.”

He didn't say anything at first. Batcher looked up between them, first at Rayla, then at Crosshair, then back to Rayla.

He looked at the hound, shook his head, and let out a breath. “Just worried about her and it’s loud at home.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have some quiet time here. I have some paperwork to do, some blood tests to analyze, and then I’m headed home. You’re welcome to join me if the three of you need a change of pace.”

Crosshair’s eyes warmed and he returned her familiar smile. He sat back down and went back to petting Vaar’ika until she fell asleep. The patch seemed to help her feel better and by extension, he felt better. Rayla worked nearby, looking through her datapad, taking inventory, and updating her notes as she went along. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. It was a good day when there were no major emergencies. She made sure her comm was on, knowing that some days no one needed her until she left for home. She packed up and walked home with the trio. As they headed down the road, she broke the silence.

“She hasn’t slept in her crate, has she?”

Crosshair grinned almost shyly. “She’s used to sleeping with me. She stays still.”

“As long as she’s still. Don’t want her hurting her incision.”

"Batcher will probably invite herself onto any bed or furniture," he added."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

The evening was perfectly quiet. They ate a simple meal and cleaned up together while Vaar’ika and Batcher napped in the armchair. Later, they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Crosshair lifted his arm and pulled Rayla to his side. She laid an arm around his waist while Vaar’ika curled up in the crook of his neck and Batcher slept at their feet. He felt his heartbeat syncing with Rayla’s. She smiled and kissed his cheek before she closed her eyes. They soaked in each other’s warmth and fell asleep.

#crosshair x oc #tbb crosshair x oc #the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #batcher #tbb crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x veterinarian oc #tbb crosshair x veterinarian oc #tooka #star wars #oc #star wars oc #star wars fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction

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annawayne · 2 months ago

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Annaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T^T I hope you're doing alright today! Did you bake anything new recently!

For the writer's ask btw: 1, 4, 5, 8, 12, 14, 15, 23, 27 :3

Do it, tell me all about it! And I hope you have a great week :3 Thank you for blessing us with all your beautiful art and love T^T

Moon, hello (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Thank you a lot for asking, and OH MY, that's a lot, but don't get me wrong, I appreciate your interest a lot T^T

Let me first tell you about baking: I baked only the plum pie recently, and it's already gone... But I plan to bake pumpkin muffins with orange cream soon :3

As for the questions:

1 - the last sentence you wrote

I've already answered this one a bit earlier here, but as I got around to answer your question, here's another sentences that I actually wrote the last one:

"I wonder, why can’t we notice… until we’ve lost it already?"

👀

4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet

Oh, I have this one story idea in my mind, based on this one art...

Can't say much without spoilering , but this story has some angsty development. Like, very angsty.

Other than this, it's also a story about how AruAni met and fell in love, so some kind of strangers to lovers, with a lot of immediate attraction and interest, all set in Switzerland, 1911.

The caption in the original post - "It was the love at first sight" - is a leitmotif of this whole story.

I've been thinking about it while working on this drawing, and I didn't consider writing it, but the more time passes - the more I think that, eventually, I'll write it...

5 - first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

Uhm... Well, I think, the chapter 10 of MYLYSW counts for now, yes? If yes, so here we are:

"How to breathe without feeling the burden of the mission to be fulfilled; how to sleep without all the images of the world through the eyes of others; how to say a word without feeling obliged to remember a promise to come back; how to look at the sun and see in it the beauty of another day borning out of the velvet darkness of the night into the golden sunrise, and not to cross out another twenty-four hours out of one hundred and thirteen thousand nine hundred fifty-five hours of defined expiration of her."

Me and my damn love for the long sentences...

8 - if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Oh, good question! I don't really have a lot of fics, but I think I would love to write for Neverland of (Our) Desires, the Fort Salta oneshot-sequel, where AruAni are caught in feelings and have an awkward-silly conversation about their boat *adventure*, with all these emotions and feelings of having the life ahead of them and not knowing what to do with it... Oh well, oh well, such a potential 🤌

12 - a trope you’re really into right now

Hm... Honestly, I've been into Forbidden Love or Star-crossed Lovers tropes recently...

It's quite canonical AruAni, to be honest, and I just love to think about it in different AUs and canon-compliant too, so yes, I would say these ones! And here a remark, that Forbidden Love/Star-crossed Lovers don't mean that it's a tragic ending - more like obstacles and a lot of angst, which challenge the characters and their love, and how it all develops within the plot.

14 - where do you get your inspiration?

You know, I thought I had a proper answer for it, but when I started typing it, I realized, that, in fact, I don't.

If I'm totally honest - I don't think I even have something special as "inspiration". I have ideas that pop up in my mind on their own, and then, I turn them into story or a moment in the fic, but I never particularly searched for it. I suppose, it's also a consequence of my constant art and literature involving, where I read/observe/study something, so I have this almost never-stopping source of new experience and knowledge, which leads to ideas and inspiration to create my own stories/drawings.

So, I think that my inspiration is constant studying and sources of knowledge.

15 - favorite weather for writing

Answered here :3

23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing

Moon, what a question *sigh*... Let's say:

evocative, raw and poetic

I thought of what to answer you on this particular question because it's a bit difficult for me to evaluate my own writing style, but I also remembered the words I received about it (including your wonderful feedback), and I guess, it helped me to pick these particular keywords.

27 - your favorite part of the writing process

Answered here, too :3

Thank you a lot for your interest and support, Moon, I wish you all the best and take care🖤

#answered ask #ask #my writing #my yellow light in your soft whispers #aruani #aruani fanfic

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alexandra-emerson · 9 months ago

Text

Some Thoughts

(For readers horrified by what’s been going on in fandom who want to help)

Twats

I’m sad that some authors have been pulling their works from AO3, though I totally get it. But I’m not going to add to the “don’t sell fanfics” commentary much. I’m working with a lawyer to get mine taken down from Etsy, and it sucks, but I think this is an opportunity to talk about the fandom community as a whole. Specifically, what you can do to keep it alive and healthy.

I think it’s easy to sit at home, read about this illegal fanbinding drama with interest, run to AO3 to mass download your favorite fics, pat yourself on the back for not buying or selling fics illegally or not adding them to Goodreads, then move on with your life. But I would argue this passive attitude is just as harmful to the community, in some ways.

The Criticism Ratio

You all have probably heard that you’re supposed to deliver compliments and criticism with a ratio of 5:1. This is because negative comments stick in our heads more, so even if you were balancing the good and bad, or giving twice as many good comments as bad ones, the bad ones carry so much weight, they still seem to be winning.

With writing, I would argue this ratio is probably more like 10:1. Because it’s so personal. And most of us are so new to it. And it’s so much freaking work. I timed it once, and one chapter typically takes me 12 hours to write. That doesn’t include editing, or the hours my beta puts into editing. Then, to float all that work out into the world and get negativity back … oof, it makes embarking on the next 12 hours, and the next and the next VERY difficult.

My Experience

I’ve been an author of some popular fics in both the Harmony and Dramione spaces. On the Harmony side, I’ve dealt with personalized attacks, not just against my stories but against me as a person. And when that was going down, there weren’t a ton of fans speaking up on my behalf. I got a lot of DMs telling me those bullies were just the “loud minority” but from my point of view, with my supporters sounding like crickets, they felt like a majority.

(Quick note to my Harmony readers: No I’m never writing Harmony again, get over it, and stop following me to every work I write next to ask me when I’m writing Harmony again. You had your chance to support me, and you fucking missed the boat.)

On the Dramione side, the public spaces are more moderated (thank God) so I’m less likely to stumble upon downright bullying. But this space is overwhelming in how BIG it is and how much conversation goes on about my fics. I always feel like the last to know when there’s some big Tik-Tok boom happening with one of my stories, when a story gets added to Goodreads, when there’s a reddit thread discussing the flaws in ‘Timeless’, when it gets posted for sale on Etsy, when someone popular binds it. It’s very hard to keep up with this giant fandom and it’s too much to handle at times. Which means if people don't send us things directly, we don't see it.

I also get this thing in Dramione that I didn’t get as much in Harmony where people act afraid or embarrassed to reach out to me. They’ll say things like, “I’m so sorry to bother you…” or “I’m sure you hear this all the time, and I know you don’t need to hear it from me too, but your works are great…” I think in Dramione people assume because it’s so big, other people are taking care of things, but that’s not the case. There is a lot of activity, for sure, but not much of that is making it back to the author.

My Ask

So anyway, think about the role you play in fandom. Are you contributing to the compliment bank, or the criticism one? (Remember, abstentions go with the majority. And in this case, every negative experience holds x10 weight).

Good things can be as simple as sending a quick note like, “Just letting you know I thought about your story today” or “Here’s another kudos because I just reread this gem!” It can be correcting a negative comment or review you see out in the wild, so that if the author ever stumbles across it, they see that their people are out there, sticking up for them. Ten people can instantly negate a bad comment with ten positive ones. Then if the author ever finds it, no harm done.

We all know the bad things that harm fandom, so there’s no need for me to rehash them here. But don’t forget that the passive things can be just as harmful. Things like: Rating a fanfic on Goodreads, because it’s already there, and you really want it to count towards your goal. Downloading a story, loving it, and never letting the author know. Reading rude comments online, complimenting yourself for not being that mean, then scrolling to the next thing.

My challenge to fandom is this: Let’s fill that compliment and support bucket so full that when an author does encounter a negative experience with one of their fanfics, they have a giant, fluffy pillow of endless love to fall back on. Let’s make those rare moments of nastiness truly feel like a minority to our creators. It’s not a ton of work. Our fandom is so flipping large, it just takes a tiny comment from each person to keep our community feeling like a fun, positive place to play.

#fanfic writing #dramione fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #dramione fan fiction #dramonie

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ukulelevillainwrites · 1 year ago

Text

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.5k

warnings : panic attack, anxiety, spoilers for lockwood's backstory

content : enjoy this part that has more plot, there's also angst but reconciliation too

taglist : @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : time keeps passing faster it's getting out of hand, anyway i hope you like it !! and thank you everyone for reading and still being there as this fic keeps getting longer and longer

[from Lockwood’s POV]

He slammed the front door on his way out. It was probably loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood. She had crossed a line and it was enough to make the anger he had felt the night before resurface. It wasn’t the fact that she had made everything to annoy him so early in the day, though it had played a part in it. What had set him off was her devising a plan right in front of him as if he was too stupid to notice. She hadn’t been explicit in what she wrote on the Thinking Cloth, but it was obvious that she intended to act on her theories today. And she was going behind his back. She was putting his company at risk and she didn’t even have the decency to be upfront. He thought he had earned her respect. Her disregard for his authority was a slap in the face.

He had gotten used to their fights by now. Even though they had gotten along pretty well for the past few weeks, their relationship had gotten off to a rocky start. But this was different. They had had disagreements in the past where he had been frustrated with her. She was always the one who got truly angry. It had made him laugh on occasions, like the night they met. She had the habit of taking things to heart. But she was passionate, a quality the three of them shared and it was probably what brought them closer. However last night the tension hadn’t been one-sided.

No matter how much he believed he was right, how he didn’t want her nor George to get into any more trouble, he kept wondering if maybe he’d been wrong. What if because of this he had ruined the relationship they had? Maybe he was being selfish indeed. Maybe he should consider their point of view more closely. George had never been the type to hold a grudge. He’d bring some doughnuts on the way home and they’d go back to normal. But y/n… it was complicated. It had taken them much effort to get along, and maybe now all that was gone. He’d need to do more. Get involved. Help her in her plan to stop this Dufour woman.

He stopped walking as the idea crossed his mind. What was he thinking? That was the whole point. It would put a target on their back. They would get noticed by every relic-man related to this case. It would alert the authorities, maybe DEPRAC would get involved. It was the last thing they needed. The publicity he was hoping for would shed light on the great work they did, not getting involved with a less than desirable crowd. And it applied for y/n and George too. Since Fittes didn’t work out for them, they should be doing their best to make Lockwood and Co noteworthy. To put the company on the map and guarantee them the future they were supposed to have. Why was he the only one to see that? It seemed obvious enough.

He went back and forth in his head as he followed the Thames for the next half hour. His thoughts were cut short when he noticed a familiar boat secured near a spot where the river was shallower. Instead of following the sidewalk, he jumped over a fence guarding a flight of stairs and climbed down to the banks. He had to walk a few minutes longer to finally spot a familiar figure. She was crouched down, digging into the mud, like he was used to finding her. He barely had time to walk closer to her that she was already greeting him, like she had sensed him coming from a mile away.

“Morning, Locky. Been a while.”

“It’s been far too long, Flo. I brought you some licorice to apologize.”

It was only when he mentioned the treat that she stood up and faced him. She took them nonchalantly. A wide bright smile lightened up her face after she took a bite.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked, chewing loudly.

“I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing.”

“There’s not much to tell. Business as usual. Except maybe for this new rich old man all relic-men wanna work for.”

“What’s that about?” Lockwood asked, frowning.

“You haven’t heard of the new traffic taking over the city? That’s surprising of you.”

“Oh please, not you too!” He was exasperated.

“What’s with you?” Flo teased him.

“Nothing.”

“I really thought you’d be more invested in all this.”

“A lot of people seem to assume that… What does this particular traffic have that’s so special?” His irritation was starting to show.

“It’s just such a mess that it’s killing people left and right. Relic-men who aren’t cautious…”

“They sort of had it coming.” He cut in.

“…innocent bystanders too. Some people get ghost-touched just by living nearby.” She had gone back to work, digging near the water as she explained the situation in a neutral voice. She didn’t seem particularly affected.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that they start moving dozens of sources at a time! They break into homes, antique shops, cemeteries or whatever potential place with relics they can find and just… don’t secure them at all. They’re being really dumb about it. A bunch of them just broke stuff and ended up with a new visitor.” Her tone had changed when she mumbled those last words. She tried being cautious when she explained further. But Lockwood wasn’t really focused anymore. The world stood still for a moment.

“Just because the guy who’s buying is paying more than the usual market price.” Flo concluded.

He had gone silent. It’s like he was reliving the scene all over again. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“That guy. Who is it?” he suddenly asked with a new determination.

“I don’t know… some posh old man looking to impress his friends I guess.”

“Tell me if you have any more information. Stop by whenever you hear more, alright?”

“Locky, don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have anything to do with this. It wasn’t your fault-”

“Keep me posted, will you?”

With that he started to walk back, more briskly than he had come. This wouldn’t happen in other homes. Not if he could help it.

He tried to ignore the sorry tone he had heard in her voice as he reached the steps that led back to the street. The news hadn’t been what he expected at all. He thought he was simply going to have a chat with an old friend. Instead, the past he had tried so hard to bury was back to haunt him. It had taken him by surprise, but it wasn’t anything to worry about. He had much to do, he didn’t have time to be distracted. He ignored the twist in his stomach as the sound of the source breaking followed by a scream echoed through his mind. He directed his attention to the next step of the plan they would have to follow. George would have to explain everything all over again, but he was sure he wouldn’t mind. And now that he was on her side, y/n would no longer be mad. Everything would be fine. He had everything under control. He mumbled to himself on the street as he thought about what they needed to do next. Obviously Flo was essential to the operation. Without her intel there was no way they could stop the dealings. Especially if every relic-man in the city wanted a piece of the business. They couldn’t target relic-men specifically. They needed to aim higher. George had already offered to follow her. He was probably right. But most importantly they needed to uncover who was this mystery man buying all those sources. They also had to find out why anyone would want to buy so many sources that they singlehandedly affected the entire relic market.

As he neared Portland Row he wondered how he could phrase his apology. He stopped at Arif’s before climbing the few steps leading to the front door. The house was silent. At first he thought he would find them in the kitchen, still thinking of potential links between the information they had like George was used to doing. But when he got down there the room was empty. He looked through the library, their bedrooms, down the basement. No one. He went back in the kitchen, put the box of doughnuts on the table and started reading the plan they had started to write on the Thinking Cloth. He smiled at the poorly disguised acronyms and anagrams y/n had used to hide what she was planning on doing. Though it faded quickly when he read the next line, something about going back to the south of London out of town. He assumed it was where her family lived. She wasn’t just planning on investigating Dufour behind his back then. She was leaving town. She was leaving him.

It was only a matter of time anyway. He should have known it was a mistake when he offered to hire her. It was always destined to end this way or another. Letting her in seemed like a good idea at the time. She needed a job and a place to stay, he needed another member in his team. That’s what he’d told himself. But he might as well have lied to himself all along. He’d been manipulative from the start. He always was, he did everything he could to get his way. And now it was time to pay for it. It wouldn’t surprise him if George went with her. After all, he had been selfish with him too. George had helped him set up his company and supported him when he didn’t have anyone else. And when he asked him for help he turned his back on him. Being left alone was all that he deserved.

He loosened his tie. It was getting hard to breathe. Guilt strengthened its grip on his lungs, contracted them until he choked. No matter how deep he inhaled, he was running out of air. He was falling deeper down a spiral. Memories he thought buried resurfaced, their long thin fingers clinging to him, pulling him deeper. They sunk their claws into his skin, he felt like he was being torn apart. Blurry faces floated in front of his eyes and remained when he closed them. He wanted them to go away, but the thought of never seeing them again broke his heart all the same.

He held on to the nearest chair, trying to steady himself, but failed. Everything was painful. Sitting down, breathing, thinking, just existing was too much to bear. He felt like his body was shutting down, giving up on him too. He knew it had to end eventually. He didn’t think it would end like this, but it was better that way. To leave this world behind.

He sat down on the kitchen floor, his vision blurry. He was staring off into space, his lungs hurting, his breathing hoarse and shallow. All he could see was the ectoplasm burn from the room upstairs. Jessica was glowing in the middle of it, her arms open, welcoming him into the darkness. The ache spread from his lungs to his heart but he also felt relieved. He would join them and everything would be better. She had a warm smile on her face, the one she always wore when she tucked him into bed every night. But she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were focused on something right next to him. He turned to look. y/n’s bag was settled against the next chair, packed with what could be qualified as an amateur surveillance kit at best. He frowned. Why would she leave her stuff here if she had planned on leaving? She wasn’t the kind to travel lightly. She always had a bag full of useless stuff “just in case”. He never understood her logic but he had always seen her with a heavy bag. Maybe she wasn’t gone after all. A glimmer of hope sparked. But then where were they? The ache clenching his heart turned to anxiety. What if something bad had happened to them? The whole Dufour case could have taken a dark turn. Relic-men could have gotten to them. He needed to find them. He wouldn’t leave this world without knowing they were safe.

His thoughts were racing. Adrenaline had replaced apathy. He didn’t know where to start to look for them and with every passing second they could be further into trouble. He frantically read the notes on the Thinking Cloth, searching for any indication of where they might be. His eyes couldn’t focus. He wouldn’t be of any help if he felt this way. He tried to remember the exercise George had made him do that one time he found him in the same state. He closed his eyes and focused on the air coming out of his nose. He breathed in deep, keeping his attention on his stomach rising. Breathe in. Breathe out. He looked down at the table. There was a map with different places circled. He wrote them down and walked out of the kitchen. He intended to check them all, even if it meant walking through every single street of London.

He headed for the door with a new determination. He put one foot outside and was immediately stopped in his tracks. He stood in the doorframe and watched as a car parked in front of the house. A tall gentleman got out and went to open the first backdoor. George got out the best he could with his hands in handcuffs. Lockwood felt instantly relieved. Though it was bittersweet. Seeing his best friend arrested wasn’t what he enjoyed the most. That was until he heard him give the man a piece of his mind before comparing him to an elderly turtle with all the grace George was known to be capable of. Lockwood couldn’t help but smile. They were alright. They were safe. y/n got out of the car shortly after. Though her handcuffs were already off. She slammed them against the man’s chest before heading towards the house. Lockwood realized he should have known better than to worry himself sick over her safety. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and she had already proven that a thousand times. Before George or y/n could cross the iron gate, the man called them back in a voice that seemed unnecessarily loud.

“This isn’t over. Consider yourself under constant surveillance. If I catch any of you out of line I’ll have you thrown in jail. Am I understood?”

Neither of them reacted. y/n climbed the few steps, glaring at Lockwood. If looks could kill, he would have been dead in an instant. She bumped hard into his shoulder as she entered the house and headed immediately for her room. George reached the door. He didn’t look bothered at all. He frowned at him, indirectly asking what was going on.

“We have a lot to tell you.”

---

[back to reader’s pov]

It had been an hour since Barnes had dropped them off. She hadn’t moved from the foot of her bed where she was sitting still. She kept replaying the day in her head, trying to make sense of what they had been told.

The ride to DEPRAC had been a silent one. George didn’t look particularly worried, but y/n had a hard time keeping it together. She bounced her leg fast the whole way there. She was worried they took the accusation from the papers literally. Or maybe they were in trouble because they both tried to break into a supervisor’s office. George would be fine since he didn’t succeed. But she was a criminal. What if she was arrested for good? Was this really how it was going to end?

As soon as they arrived, they were separated. Inspector Wade led George in a different room than her and she was left alone with Inspector Barnes. He sat across from her while putting down a manila folder in front of him. He didn’t open it right away.

“Why were you fired from Fittes, miss y/n?” he asked her instead.

She didn’t know how much he knew about her already. She wasn't sure if the real reason had been written down in her personnel file.

“I broke into a supervisor’s office.” She reluctantly admitted after a few minutes.

“Why?”

“I thought she had something to hide.”

“And what would that be?”

She had the feeling he already knew what she was going to say. He wanted to see if she would say the thing he expected. But she couldn’t tell if he believed her.

“I thought she might be stealing sources.”

“You got that theory from your good friend Karim, didn’t you?”

She nodded, but he hadn’t waited for her answer to continue.

“You see, when I read the paper yesterday I thought that giving the front page to an article that seemed mainly exaggeration was a little excessive. But then later in the day a woman working at Fittes came by to report two ex-agents.”

She actually did it she thought. She couldn’t think of a word rude enough to describe her. She was already picturing herself back in that same interrogation room in a couple of days with a murder charge. Barnes must have seen right through her.

“I need you to remain calm for the moment, miss y/n. I had no choice but to bring you here to interrogate the both of you separately. Though I’ve been through your record and I found it very surprising that someone like you could be accused of such things. You rose through the ranks quickly, got to be part of several leading teams, including Mr. Kipps’, and even won several distinctions. Not one step out of line in your whole career.”

She remained silent. It didn’t mean much that she had been exemplary now, she ended up in handcuffs anyway.

“Something didn’t sit right with me. I could be wrong though. Maybe you’re just talented in more than one way.” She shot him another angry stare. He looked unaffected. “I need to hear your version of what’s going on. So I’m asking you to tell me everything you know.”

“How can I be sure you’ll believe me?”

“You won't know until you try.”

She hesitated. A part of her thought that it might not even be worth it. But on the other hand, she didn’t have much to lose.

She told him everything starting with her growing suspicions. The insistent tone Dufour had when she offered to bring back the source. The meet-up she had witnessed. The chase. The rumors Kipps had told her about. She tried to go into great detail. A voice in her head kept whispering that no one would believe her. But the whisper quieted down when she noticed Barnes listening intently, taking notes and rummaging through the folder he had brought. He took out three pictures.

“Do you recognize any of these men?”

“No… I’m sorry I was far away and I was hiding. I didn't get a good look at them.”

“And where did you say the meet-up took place?”

She took a second to answer. She had a hard time acknowledging he actually believed her.

“Um… It was near the Thames, around Scotland Yard I think.”

“Did you hear anything worth mentioning?”

“Well I did see Mrs. Dufour selling the clock we had taken from Mrs. Overton’s house. I heard her negotiate the share she would take on its price but-”

The other inspector entered the room before she could finish her sentence.

“Sir, I think you should hear this.”

“Excuse me.”

Barnes left the room with Wade, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She was deeply confused and didn’t know how to feel about her situation. There was an official report against her, that part was not good. But the inspector in charge didn’t seem to believe she had anything to do with it. She wanted to think there were some positive aspects, but she doubted she could actually trust the man who had arrested her. She remained alone for quite some time, impatiently waiting. She felt like she had been there for several hours already. Though without a clock or natural light it was hard to tell. Eventually, the inspector came back. He didn’t ask her to finish what she had started to say before getting interrupted.

“Do you have any contact with relic-men on a regular basis?”

“Aside from the time one of them chased me down to slit my throat, I prefer to keep a safe distance.”

He got up.

“Are we done?”

“Not quite.” He didn’t explain further and simply asked her to come with him.

She followed him down a corridor lined with a dozen doors. None of them were numbered. It must not be easy to locate anything in this gigantic building if rooms didn’t even have numbers on them. Barnes selected one of them seemingly at random and opened it. It looked like the same dark interrogation room she was just in. Sitting at the table was George, who didn’t seem to notice them coming in, too busy telling inspector Wade about something that required a lot of gesturing, probably one of the many theories they had been working on since their research. There was an extra chair next to him. Barnes told her to sit down. Only then did George look up and smiled at her.

“y/n! We were just talking about what we learned at the furnaces.” He exclaimed before going back to what he was saying.

The inspectors shared an exasperated look before interrupting.

“Mr. Karim, we appreciate your input but we have more pressing matters to discuss.” Barnes said in a serious tone. “There are strong accusations against you and they are not to be taken lightly.”

“But you believe us?” y/n asked tentatively.

“I believe that you make the perfect suspects.”

She gaped at him while George was outraged, telling them to learn how to do their job. Barnes raised one hand to silence them.

“However… I think there’s more to this case than meets the eye.”

“I’m glad to finally hear you admit it!” George said, leaning back into his chair.

“Thanks to your testimonies we can safely assume that your case is linked directly to the recent surge in relic dealings. Whether you have anything to do with it or not remains to be proven, but so is your innocence. For now I want you to lay low and not do anything stupid.” He turned to George, then to her. “Am I understood?”

Her frustration came rushing back. Yet another person telling her she shouldn’t do anything.

“So someone I saw commit a felony with my own eyes is putting the blame on us and you expect me to let it slide?”

“I trust that you’re smart enough to realize that the stakes are higher than you think. There are powerful people ready to sink you to protect themselves. It isn’t to be taken lightly. One more mistake would only make their case against you stronger. Believe me if you want to get out of this unharmed you’d better take my advice.”

She looked over at George. His expression was inscrutable.

“I also need to drive you home in handcuffs to keep up appearances.”

At first, she thought it was the inspector’s poor attempt at a joke. Her smile faded when he actually handcuffed them.

“Why would you need to do this? We’re not under arrest.”

“I need certain people to think you’re in more trouble than you really are.”

“Does that have to do with my Scotland Yard theory?” George asked.

“Maybe.” Barnes admitted at a volume barely above a whisper.

This morning, George had suggested the idea that the meeting y/n had witnessed happened so close to Scotland Yard, a risky and quite frankly stupid place for dealing stolen relics, because an officer working there was part of the deal. That would explain how Dufour could have filed an official complaint against them without any tangible proof of their link to relic-men. He had a satisfied look on his face and put out his hands graciously to be handcuffed. He undeniably loved to be right. She wasn’t as forthcoming. The idea of being paraded through the building as someone officially under arrest didn’t sit right with her.

The walk back to the inspector’s car had been humiliating. A few people stared at them as they walked by like they were putting on a show for their entertainment. Not only was she asked to lay low, she also had to pretend like she was guilty. It was infuriating. On the way back to Portland Row, Barnes felt the need to remind them yet again to keep a low profile.

“I’ll keep you updated if anything new comes up, but in the meantime-”

“Yeah yeah ‘don’t be stupid’, you’ve gone over that part already.” George interrupted.

y/n remained silent, picking at her handcuffs to distract herself.

Once they reached their destination, Barnes yelled something to maintain the illusion. His acting skills were terrible. Lockwood was standing in the doorframe, smiling. She couldn’t believe him. He was the one to tell her that this whole thing would blow over and that it wasn’t a big deal. Now he saw them getting out of a police car in handcuffs and he was smiling? She bumped hard into his shoulder as she entered and went straight to her room.

The sun was starting to set. She felt numb. This whole situation was getting too much to bear. Maybe she should just go back to her parents’. The thought had briefly crossed her mind this morning. It had been quickly chased by George’s enthusiasm but now that she was alone she considered it more seriously. She’d be away from trouble and rumors there. She would do what she was asked, laying low and fleeing, leaving DEPRAC to handle Dufour. Lockwood would keep his precious reputation intact. He’d have one less thing to worry about. She wouldn’t drag George into her mess. Everyone would be better off with her gone.

She jumped at the rapid knocks on the door to the attic. After a few seconds, the door opened and hesitant footsteps started to climb the stairs. Lockwood appeared. He tried to smile at her. She didn’t smile back. They remained in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. She hadn’t moved from her bed. He was standing awkwardly near the stairs.

“I wanted to see if you were okay…”

“You said to do nothing because it would blow over and the next day I got dragged in handcuffs for an interrogation. How do you think I’m doing?”

“You got out of those pretty quickly…” He joked quietly. “You’ll have to teach me that, it’d be useful.”

She simply stared back.

“I’m sorry. For unsuccessfully lightening the mood and for the way I acted.”

She didn’t say anything. He would have to do a lot more than that to earn her forgiveness.

“George told me everything that went down at the station. I want to say that the positive thing is that this Barnes inspector seems to be on your side. But it might be early to talk about silver linings.”

She raised her eyebrows. No kidding. He shifted slightly closer to her.

“I was wrong. I should have been on your side from the start. I don’t think you should listen to Barnes. Or leave town…”

She hated how he apparently had the ability to read her mind. He took one more step closer.

“George and I need you if we want to stop this. Please help us.”

She remained silent. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Or rather… please forgive me.” He concluded with a thin smile.

She looked up at him and was surprised to see him look so honest. His eyes were softer than they had been the night before. His smile was almost shy. It wasn’t far from his usual grin and yet it felt like it was a world away from what she was used to. She wanted to believe him. She nodded slightly. He relaxed instantly, letting out a long sigh. A satisfied look took place once more upon his face.

“Wait, no.” y/n said, renewing the tension that had left the room for a second.

“No?”

“You can’t just walk in here and perform your usual charming act hoping it’ll work again.”

“What do you mean?” Lockwood asked, confused.

“You know exactly what I mean. You act all sweet and flash your signature smile to get everyone to agree with you. You do this with every client we have. Hell, you even did it to me to get me to work here!”

“What? That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. You acted all nice and sweet-”

“I was comforting you! I was offering my help. I didn’t lie to you or trick you to get you to work here!”

“In hindsight it’s what it feels like.” She finally admitted, dropping what had been on her mind for the past few weeks. There was a long pause. He stared at her in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry you think I’m capable of such a thing.”

He went back downstairs and didn’t bother to close the door.

The relief she felt was bittersweet. The truth was out, and she hoped it would help clear things up between them. Once the tension eased, she would maybe understand Lockwood’s intentions. Though that was a stretch, and she felt terrible, like she had crossed a line.

It was only because she was starving that she eventually came downstairs to help with dinner. George had her chopping onions, Lockwood was nowhere to be seen.

When he eventually made an appearance, they ate in silence. The few times they spoke, they barely said three words or they gestured vaguely. George poured himself a glass of water and Lockwood held out his hand to grab the bottle. She put out her glass but he deliberately put down the water away from her without serving her. She glared at him.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I have ulterior motives.” He shrugged.

He could be so infuriating.

“I learned a little bit more about this whole relic-dealing.” He said to change the subject. “Apparently this whole thing is happening because of one man who is singlehandedly raising the demand for haunted objects. He’s paying handsomely and it’s enough to make everyone go crazy.”

“Then following Dufour would definitely help us learn more about this man.” George answered.

“Maybe… I think we might have to think bigger. To aim for the leaders directly and not just for the leg men. We should probably start by collecting more information about what’s going on in town, in higher society, maybe some events or gatherings that could help us identify this man.”

“Sure I could go back to the Archives tomorrow.” George agreed.

“Yesterday you didn’t even want to hear about this and now we should just follow your every order?” y/n interrupted.

“What do you want from me? I tell you to let it go, you yell at me. I tell you we should get involved and you yell at me again.”

“Because we should always do what you decide!”

“Fine, what do you suggest we do then?”

“I have to think about it…”

“How surprising!”

“Oh shut-”

“Enough!” George slammed his fist on the table. “I’m sick of having to listen to you fight. Apologize to each other and let’s get this over with.”

y/n and Lockwood stared at each other in silence. Neither of them went first.

“Fine.” George said, standing up. “I won’t do any more research then. Until you both apologize, I’m on strike.”

He ignored their protests and went up to his room.

“See what you did?” Lockwood blamed her. “I don’t understand you y/n. I thought you’d be glad I joined you on your revenge mission.”

“You’re so used to getting your way that you can’t imagine things might be more complicated than that.”

“Then tell me what I’m doing wrong! You didn’t accept my apology… I mean, what more do you want?”

“I want you to realize that my career was my life and it was taken away from me. I’ve never felt more powerless than when I got fired and now I can’t even make my own decisions because you decided that you know better than everyone else. And the fact that you don’t even let me decide what to do about something that only concerns me and George…”

She broke off, not sure how to finish her sentence. He didn’t seem sure of what to say either.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more attentive to this.” He sat in the chair next to her. “I guess I always saw Fittes like a prison and couldn’t see how getting fired from there was a bad thing. I’ll make sure to listen to your opinion… if it’s worth listening to.” He winked at her. She felt acknowledged for the first time since her troubles had begun. It wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement. She smiled back at him. Though, she felt like there was more that he wanted to say. He hesitated, not sure how to phrase what he had in mind.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but the relic-dealing case isn’t just about you and George anymore.” He said cautiously. She frowned.

“People are dying over it.” He continued. “Dozens of sources are being stolen from any place that might have something of value and aren’t secured properly. Because of that some of them broke and let out a visitor that killed people nearby.” He looked into her eyes. “We need to stop this, y/n. Some relic-men managed to get their hands on relics that contained spirits that broke free when they mishandled the sources. This type of ghost will kill the first thing it sees as soon as it breaks free.” He grew more passionate as he explained what he knew. He was staring at something in the distance, his gaze focused, like he was looking through a window to the past. There was turmoil in his voice. It was unsettling, he was usually either indifferent or very professional when talking about visitors.

She listened intently, hanging on to every word. She realized she was staring at him when he suddenly stopped talking and looked down at the table. He looked haunted. She had never seen him so vulnerable before.

“How do you want to proceed?” She asked, trying to make him think of something else.

He looked back at her and blinked in surprise.

“I thought you didn’t want to take orders from me anymore?”

“Vulnerability’s a good look on you.”

The faintest blush appeared on his cheeks. He almost looked shy. She didn’t think it was possible for Lockwood to look anything other than proud and annoyingly attractive.

“I hope this isn’t another one of your acts to get me to forgive you.” She teased him. Though a part of it was true. She still didn’t know if she could trust his puppy eyes. She was about to get up when he took both of her hands in his to make her look at him.

“y/n, I need you to know that I never had the intention to trick you or charm or whatever you want to call it. I was always honest and I meant everything I told you.”

She could get used to seeing him like this. She actually felt like she got to see him for who he really was. And she loved this version of him. The real him. She took back her hands at the thought.

“Even when you said I was pretentious and helpless?” She said to ease the tension she was feeling.

“I meant the nice things.” He corrected. He laughed lightly and looked deep into her eyes with the same warmth from a few weeks ago, when he comforted her in the library. She had no idea how he could maintain eye contact with so much intensity in his gaze. She wondered if the oven was still on with how hot the room was getting.

“Though I wasn’t completely wrong when I said you were pretentious.” He winked.

“You’re the worst!” She laughed as she pushed him away and got up to go back to her room.

“I’ll tell George to get back to work on my way up.” She gave him one last smile before opening the door to the kitchen.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. Screaming filled her ears and she was paralyzed with fear. It was coming from everywhere, surrounding her and nulling her senses. At first, she couldn’t see anything. The place was pitch black and horribly cold. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. She had no idea where she was. It looked like some sort of warehouse, with industrial equipment resting under a thick layer of dust. Spiderwebs covered every inch of them and climbed up to the ceiling. That wasn’t a good sign. The screaming intensified. It sounded like a group of teenagers. Her psychic senses, usually sharp even under pressure, were blurry and didn’t give her any indication on what was going on. She noticed a door in the corner of her eye and tried to run to it but her legs refused to work. It was like she was fused in place, unable to move. She panicked as the screaming got closer. But the threat passed right through her. She felt a freezing bolt of energy crashing into her before opening two tall doors wide. A group of agents tried to close them back, they were losing control of the situation. y/n was forced to watch the scene, unable to help. One of them, she assumed the leader of the group, shouted orders that were barely audible above the wind that had risen up. The group went back through the doors, struggling to keep them close. At the last minute, two girls appeared right before they shut. One of them was injured, but she was too far for y/n to see her face. The second girl took off her jacket to tend to her wound. She looked like she was screaming at someone outside but y/n couldn’t see anything from where she was. She desperately wanted to help but her feet did not move. Suddenly the girl looked right at her. It was her. The one who had been haunting her dreams for weeks. She had accusing eyes and said something to her that she couldn’t make out. Then she started screaming. Louder than the wind, louder than the screams of her teammates, louder than y/n’s own screaming.

She bolted up in bed, her throat sore and drenched in sweat.

#ukuwrites #who follows the rules anyway #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co

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buttercream-princess · 2 years ago

Text

Playing The Game

Summary: Y/K and Dean have been secretly enjoying a friends-with-benefits arrangement for some time now, relishing in the pleasure and excitement that it brings. But when Dean unexpectedly reveals his feelings about someone else while under the influence, Y/K is left reeling and wondering where their relationship truly stands. Y/K must decipher between her newfound emotions and unspoken desires what she really wants: lust or love?

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Whole lotta’ ANGST, little bit of fluff, swearing, sexual objectification kink, SMUTTY AF, unprotected sex, quickie, public sex, unholy dirty talk, NSFW, interactive

DISCLAIMER: Every original Harry Potter characters in this story is 21+. My Hogwarts stories are always and only written as a university universe with grown ass characters.

Notes: This one has been sitting in the drafts for awhile. I’m thinking of turning it into a 5 part series because I’m too attached to this Dean at this point (Just like Y/K lol) - he’s so cheeky, I love it!

*Gifs and images were not created by and do not belong to me. All rights go to owners and creators!!

(Not edited | proof-read)

_______________________

You sleepily reach for your phone underneath your pillows and sit up against the bed frame.

You check your notifications; still no text from Dean.

Tired and irritated, you let out a groan of frustration and slump back underneath your covers. All you could think was how much you missed him, it was an unfamiliar feeling borderlining on uncomfortable. You never ached for a response from him, since you always had access to him. You were each other's person, but that now seemed called off. It felt almost unfair how easily he was going on with life without you.

It was a long night of tossing and turning, you were unable to get any sleep. Once the birds began their routine songs at dawn, you knew there was no point in trying to get some shut eye, class begins in a few hours.

You couldn’t even think about studying today, you were bitter and strung up. It was all his fault. If he just reached out to you, that would’ve put your racing thoughts at bay. At this point, even an emoji text would’ve been fine. But no, he was radio silent.

Your argument aside, Dean ghosting you was so out of character for him. Dean always made sure to check in with you, you guys were basically joined at the hip. You and Dean have been good friends since your first week at Hogwarts University. You took up the Magical Fine Arts class as an elective in the 1st year. It was Dean who asked you to be his model for the end of year project, to which you agreed to and along the way, you found yourself spending more time with him than you were studying. Dean was funny, charming and adventurous, just your kind of fun. It seemed he had a strong liking for you too because over time, the two of you were inseparable; wherever you saw him, you were always by his side and vice versa.

But over the last summer, your relationship with him developed into something more physical. It started platonic and friendly but as the semesters passed, your body couldn’t deny his sex appeal anymore. One night at your studio dorm after 2 and a half bottles of red wine, you were both wasted and bonding over your love of muggle music since the both of you were half-blood. That night you went from bestfriends to lovers in private and there was no looking back.

You both agreed to keep it under wraps in consideration of not rocking the boat that was your friend group with Blaise, Lee and Alicia. The odds of awkwardly tinting the group dynamic with your situationship was too much to take a chance on. So for the sake of secrecy, all emotions and entanglements was off the table. It kept your friendship balanced. It was simple and you liked it that way.

As for Dean in the bedroom, he’s incredibly cocky and is well aware of the power he has over you. Although you’ve never casually talked about your attraction to him, he remembers every moan and moment of begging that left your mouth while he turned you out. He always finds a way to remind you just how needy you are for his dick. Most late nights you’d get a text from him, saying, “Can’t sleep. Come over.” and you already knew what time it was the second you got the notification.

Hooking up with him had become a weekly - almost daily ritual so you didn’t usually approach Dean for sex but by now it had been close to three weeks since your last conversation with him and you were almost feral for his face between your legs. He would never go this long without asking you to come over, it was so unlike him.

There was once a whole month where you couldn’t get off eachother. You’d get a quickie in before and between classes, in any private room you could find in the castle. The astronomy tower, the room of requirement, the House Elves restroom. Even in Filch’s office once, which you left in absolute shambles, even staining his desk with dry cum - from the both of you. It was hysterical when he reported the scene in the great hall during dinner. You and Dean forced back fits of giggles with mouths full of food, knowing it was you two who defiled his office while everyone else in the hall was completely oblivious. Sneaking around with him had its benefits, one of them being you had a massive secret that only you and Dean shared, as if it was an inside joke that only you and your favorite person knew the origin of. You could call it special. Sure, hiding the truth sometimes felt like a burden but most times it felt electrifying.

While Dean was AWOL, something fierce was brewing in you this morning. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you were edging on desperation. You were fine with not hearing from him the first couple of days, you figured he was just busy. But once you saw him actively going out his way to dodge you, that was all your mind needed to start jumping to conclusions.

Why was he ghosting you? Did he not wanna hook up anymore? And if so, why?

You blankly stare at your phone while your mind wanders off and pictures all kinds of scenarios for his weird behavior.

You recall the last time the two of you spoke, a late night from a few weeks ago….

________________________________________________________

3 Weeks Ago…

Everyone had just sat the OWLS exams and it was finally done with. This year's OWLS was making up for 40% for your final grade of the semester, the stakes were high. It even ripped Granger a new one. And if Miss Know It All is anxious about a test, you should be terrified. Which of course, everyone was.

Yet somehow you came out the other side of the exam alive, along with your friends, and what better way to celebrate the end of a stressful and anxiety producing test than to get absolutely wasted?

That’s exactly what you and your friends did. Lee and Alicia went off to Hogsmeade bar to celebrate, but you, Dean and Blaise was too tired from a long day of studying to make the trek to town so the three of you shared a bottle of Don Julio in the Griffindor dorm kitchenette. The night was still young and you spent it vibing to music, taking shots and swapping scandalous stories that were only for your friends group ears. It was always good times when you linked with Thomas and Zabini, the three of you were the bestest of bestfriends. You all just naturally clicked with each other and could yarn for hours, which was something worth looking forward to in your day. The night was going good and your stomach was in pain from how much the boys made you laugh, but along the way, the three of you landed on a subject that would change the trajectory of your relationship with Dean…for the better and worse.

“Can we please talk about Fred and Angela? I’ma be all the way real, Fred is punching hardddd man.” Dean exclaims.

Blaise lets out an annoyed moan and perks up from the bench, throwing his hands in the air.

“Finally somebody fucking said it!”

You smirk and raise your glass. Angela Johnson is an etheric goddess walking amongst mere wizards and witches. And Fred is…well, he’s Fred Weasley. Nuff’ said.

“Right?! I’ll bloody drink to that.” You throw back the rest of your mug only to have a few drops hit your tongue. Time for a top up. You scoot off the kitchen top and walk to the fridge, getting some soda to mix with your tequila.

“Look, I love Fred. He’s my best mates brother, Maker bless Ron - the little shit. But how Fred even got a chance with Angie? That’s surely one of Hogwarts greatest mysteries and this school’s packing loads of them cunts.” Dean voices.

You chuckle while fixing yourself a drink, listening in on the boys being messy.

“I’m saying, like? He don’t even know what to do with that, he can’t handle all that.” Blaise says, reeking of jealousy. It was hilarious, you couldn’t hold back the giggles.

“No Weasley can handle a baddie, let alone a black goddess like Angela.” You chime in.

“Exactly. He needs to go for someone like Luna or Pansey, someone in his lane! No offense to them but that’s more Fred’s avenue. Not Angelina Johnson for Merlin's sake!”

You gasp, followed by a chortle. The gossiping behaviour between these two grown ass men was worse than you thought.

“Oh my god Blaise! I know you did not just say that! Not too much on Luna now, that’s my girl. I love that little weirdo.” You insert, jokingly death staring down Zabini. He stares back at you with knitted brows, challenging you. After a few seconds, he blinks and child-like laughter echoes throughout the kitchen from the three of you, laughing at the silly game.

Then Dean loudly clears his throat.

“No but listen, on the topic of Angie…I mean, shiettt, put me in coach. I can handle that.” Dean lowly blurts amongst the laughing.

Silence falls in the room, especially from you. You go mute, processing what he just said.

Blaise snorts.

“I mean you know what I mean? She need someone equipped for the job.”

Blaise daps Dean up in agreement. Both the boys cackle.

Your eyes unintentionally squint and you clench your grip on the bottle of liquor, completely thrown off guard by Dean’s comment. He sure knew how to get a raise out of you. You could hear he was joking, but still, your body reacted on its own accord, knotting up your stomach. You loudly puff out a sigh and plop the bottle back on the bench with a bang.

“Fuck, that was loud. My bad.” You stifly apologize.

“You’re alright.” Dean replies.

“You were saying?” You ask, then clear your throat.

Of course you didn’t want him to. But a sabotaging part of you wanted to see how far he’d take it.

“Look, Angela’s a ten outta ten. Peng as fuck, her body is crazy, and she’s got great banter. I’m first in line when she drops the dead weight that Fred is.”

Wow. He’s playing with fire. You couldn’t believe he’d froth over Angela like that right in front of you. It stinged to say the least.

The two boys cheer glasses and talk more about their thoughts on the couple.

You stir your drink, quietly wheezing to yourself hysterically. Nothing about what Dean said was funny to you, you just couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of him gawking over Angela whilst you were in the room, drunk or not.

Dean glances over to you with the utmost cheeky smirk, cocking up a brow. He was doing it on purpose and it was some kind of emotional torture he wanted to commit to you.

Why was he doing it? What is he getting out of this shit? you thought.

A smug look was locked on his face as he listened to Blaise carry on, but his gaze was focused on you. He watched you closely, seeing if he’d you’d give him any reaction at all, all while stifling back chuckles. Your silent rage of envy was amusing to him it seemed.

As Dean's eyes lingers on you, you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. You remind yourself that this is just Dean being his usual flirtatious self and that he probably didn't mean anything by it. But it still hurts and there was no refusing that.

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tension in the air. Soon the boys stop talking and you can feel Blaise and Dean's eyes on you, waiting for a response. But you don't give them the satisfaction. Instead, you change the subject.

"Talking about the Twins, did you guys hear about the prank that the twins pulled on Filch last week? Filch went off his head, it was hilarious!"

Blaise and Dean both laugh, relieved that the tension has been broken. They eagerly listen as you recount the details of the prank, and soon enough, everyone is laughing and joking again.

The rest of the night you barely spoke. You chuckled here and there, showing face in front of Blaise. But you were distracted, lost in intrusive thoughts. You couldn’t shake off Dean’s opinions about Angela. You were salty as fuck, so by the time it hit 2AM, you bowed out.

“As much as I’d love to stay up with you guys, I need to sleep. OWLS kicked my ass. I will see you wonderful people tomorrow.” You slide off the bench and grab the Tequila.

“Yeah shit, it’s almost 3. I’ll head too.” Dean checks his phone and stands up.

“Fair. But first, cuddle before bedtime.” Blaise drunkenly pulls you into a tight hug and pecks the top of your head. Blaise is the biggest softy, you had no idea how he was sorted into Slytherin.

“Okayyy mummy. Night Blaisey. Love ya” You tease, squeezing your arms around him.

“Night bub. Love you too.”

You pull away and head for the dorm hallway. The two boys hang back and say their goodbyes. You soon hear Dean catch up behind you, following you to the dorms. It was a quiet stroll to the rooms. There were many things you wanted to say but your pride had a tight muzzle on your mouth.

Dean breaks the silence, “He’s a good one, that Blaise.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. Love him.”

The rest of the way to your room was silent. You pass the corridor to the men’s dorm but he stays on your route, following you to the women's dorms.

You scoff.

If he thinks he’s getting some tonight, he’s got you all the way fucked up. You don’t mention him following you though, you figured you’d pop off at him in the room. And boy, was he in for a storm.

Dean laughs, catching your attitude. But he doesn’t say a word because he knew you wouldn't turn him away, you never do. Usual overconfident Dean behavior.

You were steaming all the way up to your door. Your blood wasn’t boiling, it was burning. You were contemplating blowing your cool and letting him have it right now and here out in the hallway. You couldn’t understand in the moment why he had you so vexed over banter but you didn’t care, you were hurting and he needed to know. But instead of blowing up on him, you decided silence was the best treatment to handle Thomas.

You huff back the emotions that were flooding to the surface, your face was heating up with rage - tears were sure to follow soon. You just needed to get inside your room before you let it all out.

You take your keys out of your jeans pocket to unlock the door and place the key to the hole but it doesn't budge. Your hands were shaking and you were on the verge of crying out of pure frustration. You already had a mountain of unexplainable feelings that was rocking your shit, this stupid key was just the cherry on top. Pursing your lips together, you swallow back the rogue wave emotions on your heart while staying faced to the door. You couldn’t let Dean see just how miserable you were over something so minor and stupid.

He closes in behind you. The warmth of his breath tickles your skin as he bends down and leans his chin in the crook of your neck.

“Give it here you goose.” He chuckles.

Taking the keys out of your hands, he unlocks and opens the door on the first try. You grumble cuss words under your breath. Even when helping you, you couldn’t stand him. Not right now, everything he did irked your soul.

You step into the apartment and head straight to your kitchen cabinet. There was a heavy weight of feelings on your chest and drinking it away was the only option. Yes, you were already drunk, but definitely not drunk enough to forget how crossed up he has you.

You slam open the kitchen cupboard door, grabbing the biggest cup you own and quickly fill it up with the Tequila in your other hand. Dean closes the door behind him and walks over to you.

“Woah there, fairy. I think the only thing you need to be drinking right now is water.”

He grabs the bottle and glass out of your hand, chucks the alcohol in your cup down the kitchen sink and fills it with water from the sink.

“Oh, so now you know what I need?”

He turns his head to you, furrowed in brows and squints his eyes. He studies your face, the way he looks at you makes you feel exposed. He knew what you were poking at, he could read every subliminal between your words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to wake up with a hangover in the morning.”

A soft friendly smile forms on his lips, which only riles you up more. Can he not read the fucking room?

“Yeah well, maybe I like waking up with hangovers.”

He snorts and turns off the tap, walking back over to you with the glass of water.

“Maybe you do. Looks like I’m learning something new about you everyday, beautiful. Drink this.”

You place your hand on your hip and stare back at him blank in the face. You weren't doing anything he wanted you to do.

“No, you drink it. And choke for all I care.”

You turn on your heels and head to the bathroom with the bottle of Don Julio still in your hand. He chortles, amused.

“Only if you’re the one doing the choking, baby.”

You grunt at his chirpy attitude, absolutely done with how witty he is. Usually you like it, he always says the right things to make you swoon over him, but now it was just ammo to get under your skin.

You turn on the showers, letting it run hot to steam up the room. As you undressed, you couldn’t help but feel stupid for letting Dean get to you. You take a gulp from the bottle.

With every clothing piece you took off, memories of him kissing that part of your body flooded your mind, accompanied by visuals of him doing that to Angela. It was tormenting. You take another sip from the bottle.

You step under the streaming water, letting it wash over your face. Finally, the tears fall. It felt good. You knew you were crying over something so silly but you didn’t want to compartmentalise, the only way you were getting through this was by letting yourself have a sook and feel everything, something you never did when it came to Dean. Feeling anything emotional towards Dean was something you put off limits from the beginning of your situationship with him, it kept your feelings safe in case things got ugly between you two. But now you were feeling the burn of setting that rule in the first place.

As you stood under the hot water, you let your mind wander. You thought about everything that had led up to this moment. You thought about how you and Thomas had started off as friends, and how things had escalated so quickly. You thought about the passion and the intensity that you had shared, and how it had felt like nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But now, as you stood there alone, you realized that things were different. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had been with other people and could be hooking up with other girls right at this moment, and that he might not have been as committed to you as you had thought, even if it was just friends with benefits. You couldn't ignore the feeling of betrayal that had been gnawing at your heart since you had found out how he felt about Angela.

When you began hooking up with Dean, you had no idea it would cause so much pent up frustration and desire in your body. Sex would help release this energy from the system, but there was an emotional side to things that had you questioning everything. Surely after some time, you began to ask yourself:

“Do I have feelings for Dean?”

Just hearing those words in your thoughts made you angry.

“Fuck!” You yell, “What is wrong with you?!” you ask yourself in frustration.

How could you let it get this far? How could you let Dean work his natural love potion on you? You thought you were better than this. Better than all the other girls who fell for his stupid addictive charm.

Three knocks tap on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes.” You sniffle.

You see him in the reflection of the bathroom glass, taking off his clothes and shoes, all he was left in was a singlet and boxers. He walks towards you and opens the shower door and leans his arm up against the shower frame. You face towards the shower head, not giving him any form of attention.

“The waters getting out.” You protest.

“I don’t care. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmmm.”

He pulls his singlet over his head, tossing it aside and kicks off his briefs, stepping into the shower and closing the door.

Tears were still streaming from your eyes, you stood underneath the flush of the water. You didn’t want to let him see you in tears. A few painful minutes go by and you hesitate to tell him off. Although you were mad with him, you loved sharing showers with him, it was one of the few intimate things that you did with him that wasn’t sex.

You sniffle and clear your croaky throat, it was a dead giveaway.

Dean steps closer under the water, saying a wandless spell to the soap, which placed a dollop of cleanser in his hands. He places both hands on your shoulders, lathering up and covering every inch of your body with the suds.

Dean dials down the water temperature and makes it a sweet warm stream and sways you by your waist from under the water.

He was smooth, even in instances like this. He didn’t need to use spells or charms, he just intuitively had a way with you that always got to your core. He observes you, adjusts his approach and works his magic on you.

“Y’know,” He pulls the hair in front of your face behind your neck and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, “You’re allowed to tell me when I fuck up.”

“Huh?”

“I know I said something that made you uncomfortable, you can tell me.”

You turn your head to look at him, surprised by his admission. He was usually so confident and self-assured, it was refreshing to see him vulnerable like this.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling ashamed of your own emotions.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures you, “We both can just be silent for all I care. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”

He leans in and kisses you gently on the lips, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be held, to feel safe in his arms. But then reality hits you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small shower space.

“No, you’re not here for me. That’s not what it felt like when we were with Blaise,” you accuse him, the anger rising up in your voice, “You just want to keep me around for when you’re bored or lonely. You don’t actually care about me.” you exclaim, accidentally revealing your resentment.

Dean looks hurt by your words, but he doesn’t back down.

His hand slides up from your thighs to your waist.

“I knew something was wrong. You don’t have to act with me. Just tell me what I did.” He calmly says.

His touch goes over your stomach, just above your nether regions, but he doesn’t go further, Dean knew to be gentle with you in the moment.

“Forget it. I’m just trying to shower.” You say, pulling away from his grasp, retreating back to icing him out

He goes to speak but he pauses, you could see on his face that he was calculating his next words. Lost in his thoughts, he says a spell to the body wash again and goes over his body.

You lean against the shower wall, arms crossed, bottle still in hand and looking up to the ceiling. Tears still falling from your eyes disguised as droplets of shower water.

Dean grabs the bottle from your hold and pulls you into the water with him, tilting your head up to his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday and I know you weren't either, so there’s no point in either of us playing dumb. I’m sorry– please believe me.”

You clench your jaw.

“About what?”

“What I said about Angela. It was stupid. I only said it to get a rise out of you.”

Is this shit a game to him? Your emotions just a ploy for him. And for what? Just so he can feel better about himself? You wanted to hear an apology from him but you didn’t expect it to come with the harsh reality of the situation.

“You’re right, it was stupid. I don’t care though.” You lie through gritted teeth, “What does it matter? You were only speaking your truth.”

“That’s the thing. I wasn't. I was saying all that shit just to get a reaction outta’ you and it was beyond wrong to do that. You don’t deserve that.”

You meet his eyes, he looks completely sincere and open but you quickly look away, feeling a small sob build at the bottom of your throat. The liquor had taken over your emotions and was ready to let it all pour out.

“Why Dean? What's the point?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought if I said that, you would’ve said something, anything. Maybe I just wanted to hear you claim m—”

“No, Dean. You didn’t hear me. What’s the point of us?”

He stares into both of your eyes, trying to figure you out. Under his gaze, usually you would melt but right now, all you felt was a sense of grief.

“Right…oh, righttt.” He sternly responds.

He loosens his grip on you and tilts his head, squinting his eyes and licks his bottom lip, a grim smile forms on his lips as he starts to sarcastically laugh.

“Oh. Message received.”

He leans down and places his lips on your forehead, chuckling against your skin while giving you a kiss then exiting the shower, taking no time to dry himself with the towel from the rack.

“When you’re done with whatever this is, let me know.”

You stand there, feeling a mix of confusion, anger, and desire all at once. You can hear the sound of the bathroom door closing as Dean leaves, and you're left alone in the shower, still processing everything that just happened.

You take a deep breath and turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel from the rack. You take one last chug of tequila before placing it on the sink. As you dry yourself off, you can't help but feel disappointment. You didn’t know what you wanted. You were torn between giving him the cold shoulder, letting him feel your anger or to give in, let him right his wrongs and lay up in his arms where you wanted to be.

You swipe your hand across the foggy mirror above the bathroom sink and look back at your reflection, red eyes and puffy eyelids from crying. You knew what the reasonable thing to do was but somewhere deep down, you knew this was an internal issue. You longed to be consistently chosen, whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was an inner turmoil that you had and Dean just happened to be the person who you wanted to act on it. It was unfair to him to put him in such a position without him knowing, but you wanted him to just know what you wanted and to provide it instantly. It was selfish of you but you couldn't help it.

The bitter truth stands - he’s wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t in a relationship with him and he wasn’t officially yours. How could you possibly ask him to do boyfriend things without actually being your man. Which posed the next question:

“Do I want to be Dean’s girlfriend?”

You wince again at the intimate ideas flooding in. But the wonder stayed with you this time, replaying back memories in your mind of Dean’s beautiful smile before he laces you with kisses all over your face. You wanted that, all the time. You wanted him all the time.

You finish drying off and walk to the bedroom, still lost in your thoughts. As you approach the bedroom door you see Dean sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone.

He looks up as you enter the room, and his expression softens. "Hey," he says, patting the seat next to him. "Come sit."

You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat next to him. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth.

"I'm sorry for how I acted in the shower. Actually I’m sorry for everything," he says, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to upset you, I was acting out of line this whole night. I just wanted to make things right."

You turn to look at him, and his eyes meet yours. You can see the honesty in his stare, and you feel yourself start to soften. Just as you open your mouth to apologize, he speaks.

“And look, if you don’t want to be around me right now, I understand. I’ll leave-”

He goes to stand up but you pull him by the hem of his shirt. By now you were more wasted than you anticipated and didn't want to be alone with your intrusive thoughts.

“No. Stay.” You slur out.

Relieved, he sits back down and looks at you in silence for a few moments, a flicker in his eyes.

“God, look at you. You’re so cute.”

He squeezes your cheeks between his hands once before getting up from your bed and walking towards your drawers, opening them and shuffling clothes around.

“What are you doing?”

“Pyjamas. It’s time you go to bed, you.”

You giggle burp. You didn’t want to go to sleep, you still wanted to talk about your feelings to him. But for some reason you found it endearing he wanted to put you to bed without sex being in the context.

Dean picks out a set of comfy clothes and walks back over to you.

“Up.” He orders you. Your towel drops to your feet and he fits your shirt over your head then continues to dress you in your clothes.

“Somni Modus (Bedtime mode).” Dean says a wandless spell which dims the lighting, lights the candles, puffs your pillows and pulls back your covers. You crawl to your side of the bed and Dean joins you on the other side, pulling the covers over you.

He leans on a pillow and props himself up on an elbow, facing you, watching your dizzy drunk self get comfortable in bed, cuddling a small pillow. He smiles, looking at you in awe. You roll over and feel the urge to pour your heart out to him,

“I probably wouldn’t say this to you when I’m sober but I think I-”

He cuts you off.

"Darling, you’re way too intoxicated right now. I promise we can talk more when you’re in the right state of mind. Just come and find me, and I’ll listen, okay? But for now, you need some rest.”

You pout, slightly saddened. There were still some things you wanted to get off your chest. But you don’t argue with him, your eyelids was feeling heavy and the room was spinning the more you tried to stay awake.

Dean tucks you in and kisses your forehead, then heads towards the door.

As he's about to leave, you reach out and grab his hand. "Please don't go," you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He pauses, then smiles softly and sits back down next to you, pulling you into a soft embrace. "I won't go anywhere," he says, stroking your hair, "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and protected in his arms.

As you drift off to sleep, you realize that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay with him after all.

______________________

Currently…

That was the last you heard from Dean. Your memories of the night had a few blanks, considering how much you drank, though you definitely remember how you felt. You spent many days, wracking your brain over why the night panned out like that and why he would promise to listen to you if he was just gonna ignore you in the first place.

You decided when you fully woke up, that was it. No more using your voluptas wand (Pleasure wand) and pretending it was Dean. You needed an explanation, a good fuck and to be on talking terms again and he was the only person who could give it to you. You flicked open his school schedule on your phone, which he had previously sent you so you would know his free periods for quickies or some head in the Elf janitor closet. You two were just that ravenous for each other.

You scrolled to his classes for the day and saw that he had a morning quidditch game against Slytherin. Dean had to be already up at the field, stretching and preparing for the match, he was an early bird.

You stand up from your bed and commit to your decision. You take a brisk shower and dress for the occasion - not showing too much so it shows you mean business but leaving out a little skin for a subtle hint of slutty to show him what he's been missing. Perfect.

It was a cold lengthy walk down to the Quidditch field. No one was awake except for the winter birds, owls and the sun kissing the sky with orange hues. As you neared closer to the male Quidditch changing tent, you went over in your mind exactly what you were going to say to him.

“So, no text? No. That’s lame. Okay, so when were you gonna tell me we weren’t doing this anymore. Ew! that too mushy for 5AM in the morning ,Y/K.” You thought to yourself.

Every sentence that came to conception only made you sound needy and that you wanted him more than you were willing to let him know. But you missed him badly, and you wanted him again for crying out loud! it was the truth. Him finding this out was a risk you were gonna have to take.

You stop out the front of the tent opening and release a big heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

You lift up the material of the tents doors and see the man of the hour. Butterflies swarm your insides. This had to be the first time you’ve ever felt anxious around him.

“Dean?”

He pauses his stretching and turns around. His beautiful cinnamon brown eyes travel from your legs, up to your eyes. He starts walking over to you with rush in his step.

“Right, so I don’t what’s happening between us but I–”

“Well, look who decided to come around.” He finally speaks.

Dean grabs your face into the palm of his hands and pulls you into a haste kiss. His tongue took no time finding yours. The tense from your body drops as you find yourself seeping into his pull, right where you want to be.

The feel of lips and touch felt like feeding an addiction you’ve been weaned off for eons and you’re getting a much needed hit again. But you still had questions. You pull from his kiss and ask away.

“First of all, why didn’t you hit me up? And ignoring me?”

“I was waiting.”

“For?”

“For when you’d make the first move.”

Your mouth opens wide as it forms into a smirk. From the sounds of it, he wanted to be chased by you. So the man has emotional needs and wants besides getting a load off. Who knew?

“Dean Thomas playing the waiting game? Seriously?”

“Oh shut up. I missed you.” he gives you another deep kiss then comes up, “That’s the last time I’m waiting for you to make the call. You almost drove me mad, woman.” his hands slides underneath your skirt and palms your ass cheek in his hand.

You press your body up against his, feeling his member already bricked up. And just like that, gasoline was thrown into the fiery tension between you two like it never left and it felt like pure electricity.

“Please tell me you didn’t jerk off. I want you at your best.”

“Like I said, I was waiting for you. Nothing can satisfy me the way you do.” He says, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites.

You moan in response, feeling the heat rising between your legs. You pull him closer, your hands gripping his biceps tightly.

“We’re gonna need to have a serious talk but I need this first.” You breathe out as your hand slips down to his 9 inch member over his shorts while his hands explore your body.

“Of course. We can talk things over. Do me a favor first, pretty girl? bend over.” He takes your hand, spinning you around and positions you over the stacked bat trunk. You oblige to his request and bend over the case, exposing all of your sex to him.

Dean wastes no time, pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, revealing your wetness. He smirks at the sight, knowing he's the only one who can make you this soaked. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before teasingly running a finger over your folds, making you gasp.

“Please, Dean. Don't tease me. It’s been too long, I can’t wait anymore” You moan out, your body trembling with need.

He chuckles and slides a finger inside of you, pumping it slowly. He adds another finger, hitting all the right spots. He was pumping your pleasure button to new highs, making you buck back against his long strong fingers. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body starts to shake.

“Dean baby, I'm gonna cum.” You whimper out, unable to hold on any longer, and just before you feel the eruption of bliss, he pulls out.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck, “Wait for me baby. I know you miss it.”

And just like that, Dean’s Gryffindor jersey shorts and briefs drop to his ankles, you feel his member hot and hard rubbing against your ass cheeks. He takes his time and slides the tip down between your cheeks, against your asshole, to your hungry flesh. He pushes in slowly and immediately you feel the evidence of his absence. His size hurt like hell but it hurt so good, it already sent you over the edge into climax.

“You kept it nice and tight for me baby, hmmm?”

He dips in deeper, filling you up wholly, hitting your pleasure spot at the back of your pussy, driving you wild. You were gushing all over his dick yet as he pulls back, you feel the friction of your walls wrapped around him like a fitted glove, as if your pussy was designed just for him to fuck in.

He holds the hem of his shirt through his gritted teeth so it didn’t block the view. He wanted to see every motion of your needy cunt taking him whole. He paces himself while adjusting his tip at your entrance again. The tension and anticipation between the two of you was thick and vicious. Both of you knew what was about to go down, once he starts stroking, it’s game over for your precious walls.

Leaning down to you, he grabs a heap of your hair and twirls it in a fist, pulling your head back so his cheek was gashing against yours while he busts his first thrust into you, making your body jerk in intense euphoria. He goes again and again, until he picks up a rhythm. Your bodies rub together in heated unison, stimulating your senses to the nastiest levels possible, as he shoves kisses to your mouth, sucking on your tongue and leaving sloppy kisses on your cheeks and ear, thirsting for your affection. With every stroke, you’re sent into an oblivion of pure ecstasy.

Muffled grunts and mumbles of pleasure was all you could hear. It was killing Dean not to talk his shit. He’s a vocal lover, he knew all the right things to say that would brings out the animalistic freak in you. But in this tent, soft moans and whispers was all he could give you.

You rock your core back against his length, making him damn near lose all control and grip your hips with a tight hook as if he was cautiously trying to steady you. Throwing it back on him was a dangerous game, the control you had over him in the moment was unbearable. He desperately slows down his rhythm, nears your ear and mutters through his breath, “Oh, so you wanna play like that, huh?”

A devilish smile grows on your lips and you catch your breath in the quick spell he’s giving your walls.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You cluelessly respond.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He pants on top of you, nestling his face in your hair, taking in your scent and licking up the droplets of sweat on your back.

“Two can play that game, sweetheart.” He mumbles into your skin.

A half smile forms on his lips as he slams back into you. He chuckles as you begin to lose it under him again, the sight of your unraveling was pure entertainment for him. He was well aware of just how good he puts it on you.

He stands up and spreads your cheeks apart while observing the view.

“I love seeing your pretty pussy take this dick. Why’s that pussy so good, hmm?” He grunts out.

Dean halts and draws back so only the tip is in.

“I said, why is that pussy so good?” he squeezes your face between his hand and turns your head to him, making you look up at him in the eyes as he rams in and out of you, leaving you silently gasping for air. Rolls of the orgasms he gave you just moments ago were still coming over you.

“I think I need to fuck you before every match.”

He picks his pace back up, filling you entirely. Bending down, his lips swipe across yours, teasing your desperate mouth.

“I bet you’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Tearing that pussy up every game.”

You look back to find his eyes piercing into yours as he strokes you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you: under him, stretched and slutted out. He was driving you insane.

You moan in response, feeling his wood flesh you out like there was no tomorrow. The idea of being fucked by him every match was both exhilarating and dangerous. You knew it would be hard to resist him before every match, knowing he had pent up aggression for the quidditch field. It was intimidating how easily he dominated you like this. But right now, all you could think about was how good it made you feel, being his little cum bucket.

“Yes,” you gasp out, “I want you to fuck me every game.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You always spread your legs for me like a good fucking whore, no matter the time or place.”

His features soften and his eyebrows furrow in. He closes his eyes and crashes lips to yours, groaning in your mouth. His strokes deepened inside you to the back of your walls, he wouldn’t dare to pull back a single inch, he wanted to feel all your tightness around him. You clench your pussy lips as he rests balls deep inside you, the pleasure mixing in the pain of his shaft hitting your cervix sent you over once more. You bend further across the trunk, trying to process all the sensations he was giving you, shying from his stroke.

Dean pulls you back, burrying his cock deeper than he was before. You whimper through another nut with teary eyes and slippery sweat all over your body. There wasn’t any words you could fathom that could explain the bliss he was fucking into you.

“Don’t run, baby. Be a good girl, take it.” he whispers, watching your face go through levels of rapture.

He pauses and strokes one more time, steadying himself before giving you another row of toe curling plows. Retracting out and immediately ramming right back in. He continuously rips into you, not giving you a single moment to gather yourself.

“Take it. Take all this fucking dick. I missed this pussy too much. I missed you so much baby!”

His voice cracks into a deep tone, moaning out all his nasty thoughts to you, “You feel so good, you always do. My pretty little whore.”

And just like that, hearing him talk nasty to you sparks the freak in you to life. You start fucking him back, applying all the pressure to his cock.

“Yes baby. I’m a fucking whore. I’m your whore.” You screech out.

You were gone, completely lost in the heat of passion. Dean bought out filthy taboo in you that you didn’t even know had a place in your desires.

“Use me like a fucking toy. I’m just an object for your cum. Nut inside me.”

“Oh fuckkkk.”

His cum shoots against the back of your core. As much as he tried, he couldn’t hold back the roaring moan that left his mouth. You felt his load fill you to the brim as it oozed outside your slit and down the back of your thighs.

“Damn girl, what the…fuck. I haven’t nut that good in a minute…” He weakly pants, his body going limp against yours.

You tiredly chuckle, too exhausted to try to speak, basking in all the high sensations still running through your body.

He doesn’t pull out, he smiles and moves the strands of hair that were slicked against your face behind your ear.

“So that’s what you like? Being my toy?” He inquisitively mumbles between huffs, leaving soft pecks against your bare skin.

You freeze in embarrassment, wanting to hide from his grasp and gaze.

“Oh my g- I don’t even know why I said that. I say stupid shit when we fuck.”

“Well hold on now, who said it was stupid?”

You cover your face in embarrassment with your hand. Sure, the thought of him using you like a fleshlight is enough to make you cum from the thought alone but you couldn’t admit that to him, that was sensitive information for only you, your toys and your spank bank to know. Plus, it would only make him more arrogant knowing how much power play gets you off.

“If you’d allow it, I think you’d make a perfect beautiful tight toy for me.” He caresses your thigh, soothing over the indented marks of his fingers from digging into your skin.

He brings your hands from your face as he hardens inside you, already ready to make a slut out of you again.

You gasp and look at him with widened eyes. “Already?”

“Baby, you actually feel like heaven…can you blame me?” He tilts his head and smiles that cocky all knowing smile.

“You’re such a slut.” you laugh off.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.”

He gives you a kiss accompanied by slow strokes. You coo from the soreness of your walls being worn out but you ached for another round, his sex was a pleasurable craving you would never get enough of.

From a far distance, you can hear a crowd of people chatting and laughing.

“Fuck. Shit. What time is it?” Dean abruptly tugs his full length out of you, pulling up his shorts.

“I’m not sure? I lost track of time ages ago.” You frantically look around you and over the trunk for your underwear.

Dean helps you look around and remembers he put it in the pocket of his shorts when he was undressing you.

“I think you’ll be needing this.”

He gets down on his knees and helps you put the panties back on, wiping his cum away from your thighs with a gym towel from the equipment basket. He slows his pace when he draws his touch up to your hips. You raise your brows, wondering why he stops rushing.

“Dean?”

He lays a kiss on you clit against the fabric and looks up at you with bright eyes and a smirk, caressing the back of your thigh.

“You free after the game? I have a feeling I’ll be needing to use my toy.”

“What? You ask now with people right outside? You know you can just text me after the game.”

He stands up and pulls you by your waist into him.

“I could, but I wanna hear you say it.”

He bites down on his bottom lips, waiting for the magic words. You antsily look at the exit of the tent, ready for players to start rolling in at any moment.

“Dean! They’re right outside.”

He raises his brows, not budging to let go of you. Either he didn’t give a fuck that anyone knew you were fucking or he was just that naturally bold and stubborn. You were sure it was the latter. Either way, you couldn’t resist his charm.

“Yes, I have a free period after your game to fuck.” You submit, coyly smiling and rolling your eyes.

Satisfied, he presses his lips against yours. “Good girl.”

“Okay, now I’m leaving.” you say against his kiss and step away to head for the exit.

“Yeah, get of here ya’ weirdo! Why are you in the male changing tents anyways? Pervert!” He exclaims loud enough for even the people outside to hear.

You halt and turn back at him in disbelief, breaking into laughter.

“You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“You love it.” He chuckles and gives your ass a quick slap.

You scoff. Before you could give a proper reply, the male cohort of the quidditch team enter into the tent.

“Morning Dean…and Y/K?” Ron approaches.

“Left my phone in the common room last night. Good thing Y/K is like totally obsessed with me and knew I had a game this morning.” Dean jokes, mimicking an American valley girl accent, “She came and dropped it off for me first thing.” he shoots you a wink as he makes the sneaky innuendo.

The balls on this guy. Unbelievable. You had to admit, it was fucking sexy though.

“Well that’s the last time I do that. I’ll just let the house elves take it to lost and found next time.”

He laughs. “That’s fair. Thanks anyways bro.”

Bro. Oh he’s really selling it, this guy needs an academy. You’re aware he’s only showing face but for crying out loud, it’s too soon, his cum is still warm inside you. No matter the fuss though, it’s him who’s gonna be moaning baby when you ride the brakes off him later.

You look once over at Ron then shoot Dean a thin lipped smile.

“Don’t mention it, bruv. Just focus on winning, we don’t need any more house points to Slytherin. Knock em’ dead.”

His brow cocks up as he squints, catching all the shade you’re throwing his way. It was written all over his face, he didn’t like that.

“Cheers.” Ron exclaims with a big grin.

You turn on your heels and make for the exit. The way you keep up antics to hide your affair in front of others was Oscar worthy at this point. Although it kept things on the hush-hush, it was exhausting. But my oh my, did Dean hate it. He was a poor example for a fuck buddy. He talked a good game but at the heart of it all, he was sensitive, needed reassurance from time to time and to be claimed out loud. If you knew what it would take for him to stop ignoring you, you would’ve acted on that weeks ago. At least that was the one thing you had over him, you knew Dean Thomas’s secret longing to be wanted and loved.

As selfish as it was, now that you knew his little secret, you now have the upper hand over this situationship. He’s not the only king of hearts anymore; you’re right besides him, sitting pretty on the throne for the queen.

As you leave, you raise your skirt higher, leaving a little cheek out and sway your hips as you exit, giving Dean a cheeky tease. Just enough to make him stiff in his shorts and sexually frustrated. You glance back and see Dean adjusting and tucking away his wood. Laughter erupts from you as you walk out the tent, it was actually hilarious how easy you make him fold.

You were sure you’re gonna catch some heat for it later.

But now after this morning, you realized you like how vexed he gets from your stunts of the need for attention.

Well, solely because it makes him fuck you harder.

#Alfred Enoch fanfiction #Alfie Enoch fanfiction #Dean Thomas fanfiction #Dean Thomas smut #Alfred Enoch smut #Hogwarts fanfiction #black reader smut #hogwarts x black reader #black fem reader #Dean thomas x reader #alfred enoch x reader #alfie enoch x reader #dean thomas imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #black reader fanfiction

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smittywing · 9 months ago

Text

FicBit 11: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

So, I will post this to AO3 later today once I take another run through the formatting and such but I wanted you guys to have this first. Thank you for all the love and support while I was hiccuping this out in pieces! And as always, thanks to @reccea for enabling and betaing and everything.

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Jason knew Tim and Bernard had broken up four days and six hours before Tim told him.

Jason was starting to learn that Tim did things on his own time, no matter what kind of crazy it made Jason.

The important thing was that Tim told him.

“Bernard and I aren't together anymore,” Tim said carefully. “And I thought. Maybe. I could take you out to dinner. On a date.”

“I only put out for lobster,” Jason warned.

“So I don't know if you've heard,” Tim said. “But I have this really good job at Wayne Enterprises….”

“I thought Cannon Fodder made you happy,” Jason said over lobster rolls from a shack in the marina. Jason wasn’t any kind of lobster connoisseur but he was pretty sure this was the best he'd ever had.

Tim was in the process of stuffing the end of his roll in his mouth and had to chew and swallow before he could answer. He scowled when Jason laughed at him.

“I was happy,” he admitted. “Bernard will always be important to me. He helped me learn a lot about who I am and what I want. I might have just stuck to dating girls because… I hadn't been ready to come out.

“But the feelings I have for you aren't…new,” Tim said slowly. Jason’s heart leapt in his chest. He kept his mouth shut. “I knew who you were but I didn't know you. And then you were - gone - and then, well, I didn't think there was much of a chance.” He shrugged and looked very interested in reassembling his sandwich. “I thought maybe that was my only chance to kiss you so I took it.”

“I might be open to giving you a second chance,” Jason said. “Maybe a third. If you make it good.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Tim said, looking up, eyes bright and smile crooked. “You know it's going to be good.”

And Jason had no comeback because Tim’s face was lit up like sunshine and this time he had made it happen, had made Tim feel like that.

“Anyway,” Tim said, because Jason was too busy grinning to answer. “I didn't want to be that guy but I couldn't handle the idea that we might never figure out what this is between us. So I talked to Bernard and we agreed I should uh, take some time and figure things out.”

“He let you go?” Jason asked, because that was fucking stupid of Cannon Fodder.

“More like…he needed me to make a choice,” Tim said. “And I couldn’t do that while wondering ‘what if’ all the time.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck because it sounded like Tim was saying he had picked Jason and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Though he was leaning toward gloating.

“I just. I want you to be happy,” Jason said, biting the inside of his lip. “Even if that means seeing Cannon Fodder at Sunday brunch.”

“Yeah, well.” Tim poked at his sandwich and looked up at Jason, his cheeks flushed. “Turns out I just want you to be happy, too.”

After a stroll around the tiny marina to “walk off” their dinner, Tim invited Jason aboard his boat and led him below decks.

“Can I take that second chance now?” Tim asked and Jason’s breath caught in his throat. It was just a kiss, they'd done it before, and Jason had kissed half a dozen guys when he was stalking the clubs, but somehow he was still nervous.

“I mean, you did pony up for the lobster,” he cracked.

Tim reached up and cupped Jason’s face between his hands and drew it down to him. “Hey,” he whispered and then he brought their mouths together.

It was as good as before, if not better for the longing. Tim’s mouth was sharp and clever and Jason kissed him over and over, unable to pull back. They kissed until Jason’s mouth was dry and he leaned in, chasing Tim’s mouth until Tim’s thumb, pressed against his lower lip, held him back.

“How far did your research take you?” Tim asked and Jason was confused for a moment until he remembered how their conversation in the club had started.

“Nothing that involved taking off clothes,” he admitted. “I kissed a few guys but none of them were you.”

Tim’s eyes went soft and he stepped back just far enough to pull his t-shirt over his head and toss it behind him. He looked amazing, his arms and chest rounded with muscle, but lithe, graceful. He was pale but had a healthy flush down to his abs.

“Should I?” Jason asked.

Tim nodded. “Yeah, if you're comfortable. I think you’ll like this.”

Jason didn't wait to ask what this was, he just dragged his shirt over his head and let Tim look at all the scars that littered his body. They itched under Tim’s intense study and he rubbed self-consciously at his breastbone.

“C’mere,” Tim directed, putting his hands on Jason’s bare waist and pressing back up to his mouth. The heated skin of his chest and stomach slid against Jason’s and Jason gasped with the sensation of naked skin on skin. Tim settled in closer, his palms pushing up Jason's exposed back to his shoulder blades, his arms wrapping around Jason’s ribs and squeezing gently.

“Fuck,” Jason breathed, sensitized and prickling with it, unready for the intensity rising in him. One hand was still pressed against his own chest, the knuckles brushing Tim’s clavicle. He fisted his other hand at his side, unsure what to do with it.

Tim smiled against his mouth and pulled back, bumping his chin against Jason’s. “It feels good, right?” he whispered. “It's not the same with a girl.”

It wasn't the same with anyone and it wasn't just good. It was intimate in a way that was a revelation to Jason and he brought his mouth down to Tim’s again, hungry and needy in a way Jason hadn’t been with the strangers in the clubs.

Jason’s skin buzzed everywhere Tim’s fingers had pressed into it. His knuckles prickled where they pushed into Tim’s chest. Jason twisted his wrist so the pads of his fingers grazed Tim’s collarbone and the flesh of his palm curved over warm skin and hard muscle. He paused, mid-kiss, and Tim murmured against his mouth.

“Yeah, like that. Touch me some more?” And Jason had to oblige.

He spread his fingers, spanning the greater part of Tim’s shoulder and pectoral, his nipple a hard nub against Jason’s palm. He dragged his hand down until he could circle his thumb over and around it. “Is this weird?” he asked because he'd only ever done it with a girl.

“Does it feel weird?” Tim asked, tilting his head up. Jason considered. “Because it feels great to me.”

Jason kissed his naughty grin and pinched him lightly. Tim shivered and pressed himself against Jason’s leg and all Jason could think was, I did that.

Much later (surely much later than Jason’s internal clock told him) Tim collapsed on the bed next to Jason, his hair falling over his eyes. Jason turned his head, pressing his cheek to the blanket and gazing (sappily, but he wasn't going to be the one to say it) at Tim. Tim’s eyes were closed and he huffed a breath upward, blowing his hair a half inch off his face before it fell back over his eyes.

“Does this mean we're going steady?” he asked, lifting his hand to brush Tim’s hair sideways across his forehead.

Tim smiled with that dirty, dirty mouth of his. “If I say yes, do I get to wear your jacket?”

“You can wear whatever of mine you want,” Jason pledged, dropping his hand to thumb Tim’s lower lip. Tim bit him then sucked Jason’s thumb into his mouth. Jason was in the midst of calculating his recovery time when Tim released his thumb with an audible pop.

“So, um,” Tim said. “Now that you've, you know. What do you think?”

“You mean do I still think I’m straight?”

Tim smiled gently. “I think we left that idea a while back.”

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said. “Well.” He considered. “Can I just like who I like? Whatever they are?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “As long as you still like me best.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “That won't be a problem.”

One year later…

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Tim asked as Jason settled self-consciously into the place of honor at his Wayne Manor birthday party. This year, he had taken Alfred to high tea at a hotel in New York City for their shared birthday, and Tim had taken him out to dinner - a real, stupidly fancy dinner, with real lobster and only the briefest of supervillain interruptions.

(But then Bruce said, “Will you come by on Saturday? I promise we’ll keep it small,” and Jason's heart must have grown three sizes that year, because he said,

“Yeah, okay, but don't let the demon brat get me an ant farm.”)

“It's fashion” Jason told Tim archly. “Not that you would know.”

“Not that I would know,” Tim repeated, “from someone whose entire wardrobe consists of cargo pants and black t-shirts.”

Bruce had promised to keep it small and for definitions involving the family, he had more or less kept his word. Dick and Barbara were there, and Tim and Damian, who had been given strict instructions about gifting living beings, but the only other person there was Stephanie. Her gift turned out to be a repeat of last year’s shovel talk.

Tim set a box on Jason’s lap. It weighed a shit ton and wasn't wrapped any better than Jason’s gift to Tim had been.

“I love it,” Jason said, frowning at the mass of brown fabric inside. “What is it?”

“It's a hammock,” Tim said brightly. “For the boat!”

Jason laughed. “You got me something for your boat?” he laughed.

“Well, Tim said, flushing a little across his cheekbones. “I was hoping it might be our boat.”

And Jason had nothing left to say.

#batbrats #tim drake #jason todd #jaytim #jason todd/tim drake #red hood/red robin #red hood #red robin #writing #jason todd's potty mouth #i wrote a thing

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natashasbitxh · 11 months ago

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Finally got to see Peter Pan Goes Wrong in West End with Charlie Russell, Matthew Cavendish, Greg Tannahill, Matthew Howell, Harry Kershaw, Clark Devlin, Jamie Birkett, Chris Leask, Ellie Morris, and Jean-Luke Worrell! They were all amazing, I thought I'd share some of my fav bits! (Warning: There's a lot)

• Firstly, programme stuff: the note from the director basically just being Chris and Trevor arguing like a married couple. Chris being too scientific and Trevor having to remind him it's supposed to be festive.

● Them leaving a note asking if anybody was a flying operator as they didn't currently have one😭

• Robert leaving the children of the Cornley Youth Theatre abandoned in a forest with limited food and knives,to prepare for their performance of Lord of the Flies. NSPCC and police had to intervene, 2 of the children are still missing today (Ben McIntyre and Sarah Cordell)

• Jonathon's interview where's he's practically begging the interviewer to take note he was 'fashionably late', when he was actually waiting for 6 hours.

• Jonathon saying (in the interview), he's been focusing on humanitarian work, such as adopting a child from Ethiopia and a child from Vietnam. And then the interviewer just replied with "That is Brad Pitt. Everything you have just said is about Brad Pitt and not yourself."

• In the cast section, Chris Bean writing "I would like to remind my father that there is a spare ticket at the box office for him if he chooses to show up." That's so sad😭

• Trevor's section ended with "trevorzbeatz/YouTube.co.uk" 😭

• Pip (assistant stage manager) just says: "They call me Big Pip up north. Trevor's cousin. Out and about and that. Nice one." Like okay yh me too Big Pip

• They tried to feed the crocodile an alarm clock😭 (RIP Nadia tho😔)

• Annie left a little note saying she's "looking for a man" and then there's some description of what she's (not) looking for

• A page saying welcome to the theatre, but it is still very much in character😭 "Director Chris Bean always fulfils his promise of giving us a show we will remember for a very long time."

•Pre-show antics: one of the assistant stage managers (I'm gonna guess Pip? Not too sure tho) was walking around looking for a hammer. I noticed that he'd act like he was looking around and then when he spotted a child he'd go and ask them. I thought that was cute🥹

• I couldn't see the wires going through the audience cause I had seats up high, but I did see Robert pulling the end of the wire whilst on stage with the help of an audience member

• Dennis was late I think, ran across the stage from the audience with a bag on

• Lucy suddenly ran off stage, Robert not far behind shouting things like "You have to do it!" (And then later on she ran back on stage,but it seemed Robert got caught up in a convo)

• Now onto the actual show, I thought Dennis singing les mis due to his headgear was pretty funny seeing as les mis was about a door or 2 down

• At one point we were clapping for something (can't remember what, but it was during the beginning Darling Family scene), and Max joined in with the clapping. Sandra had to tell him to stop with a pointed glare and a lil hand gesture

• Every appearance with Robert as the shadow was amazing, I know it's simple but I'm always impressed with the rug pull and the way he lands

• During the bit where there's too much smoke and it engulfs the pirates, Trevor comes to the rescue but does hit Chris in the arse by accident, christrev anybody?

• I will forever love Robert trying to get Dennis to pick up the sword, Dennis picking up the boat paddle and Robert going on a rant about how he's been moving his arms for the past 5 mins why would he need the paddle

• During the interval the lights would still go out occasionally, fun touch

• As Jonathan flew up before crashing down, a banner fell down with Robert holding a bean, a reference of his show Jack and the bean

• Before this, I'd only seen the BBC recorded version of Peter Pan Goes Wrong, so I rlly enjoyed the changes. Such as the mermaids, but I RLLY laughed at Robert being the Mr Bumble in Oliver that killed a child. Especially when he went to be Peter Pan before starting to sing 'Food, Glorious Food"

• The whole poison bit was incredible, Harry's improv was on FIRE. We obvs did the traditional pantomime business which made Chris mad, he very much gave teacher vibes as he sat down on the set and said it was our own time we were wasting. He also complained that this was only the matinée and they still had an evening performance to get to. Then he pointed out how somebody in the audience was hissing, "Nobody goes to a show and says 'Yeah it was good but the person in the fourth row wouldn't stop hissing'" (this resulted in a lot of children hissing whenever he appeared on stage). Then when it got to the poison bit, a child was yelling at him to hurry up, causing Chris to go on a rant about how he didn't even want children there, sitting there on their booster seats. After the child yelled at him multiple times, Chris gave up and told the child to open it for him, which they did. Then as he was leaving, we were booing again and he was like "NO NO DONT BOO ME, IT WAS THE CHILD THAT POISIONED HIM." Then as he exited, he said something along the lines of "blame the child murderer." It was insane.

• Then, when Peter asked who would try to poison him, Tink/Annie pointed at the child that opened the bottle. I think Chris Leask actually had to turn his head downwards and to the side to hide his laughing.

• I've pointed this out before, but I'm so endeared with how worried Chris was when Annie was unconscious. HE KNEELED THERE HOVERING OVER HER BODY JUST LIKE TOUCHING HER FACE, NOT SPEAKING FOR AWHILE. Adorable. Every characters reaction was adorable...sorry Annie

• I just have to say Francis' Cabaret performance to distract us from Annie was amazing. Loved the audience clapping along as well and the rest of the cast looking absolutely shocked and confused

• I loved that we heard a whole marriage fall apart through Dennis' headgear. I want to know more abt them, the husband that took over to help Dennis sounded sweet

• When Lucy slid down the ship in her wheelchair she was flung out and then caught by Trevor in a sort of bear hug, Lucy's legs wrapped around his torso. Trevor was SEVERELY judging the cast HE WAS NOT HAPPY WITH THEM. They're besties ur honour, I thought it was so cute

• Loved Francis' Cabaret performance again during the big fight scene with the set moving.

• Trevor saying something like "You've got to be joking" when Lucy picked up the book 😭

• I wanted to scream laugh at Chris lying in the bed like an ill victorian child as Lucy closed up the story, and then Dennis choosing to lie on the squished bottom bunk

• As Lucy continued to read, Chris, Sandra, Trevor, Dennis, and Max were all checking up on one another in the background. Hugs, shoulder grabs. Guys, I love Sandra and Chris' dynamic so much, Sandra was making sure he got off the bed alright and then gave him a hug

• Of course the whole end song, Max as the crocodile encouraging us to clap

It was so amazing, everybody was fantastic!! My jaw still aches from laughing so hard! Hope ppl found this interesting cause I always love when other ppl share what happened during their show😭

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tbgblr2 · 1 year ago

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Cruising to new life - part 6

As we rose on the third day of the cruise, we managed to catch the sunrise. Just sitting on our room balcony, watching the sky get lighter and lighter was magical. I sat with Jodie hand in hand, snuggled up in our dressing gowns just relaxing and enjoying the moment.

“You know what we didn’t do?” Jodie broke the silence.

“Whats that?” I answered.

“We didn’t book my spa appointment, with everything that happened the other day.”

With that, we resolved that we would sort that out today – likelihood is that with essentially spa appointments free of charge, we may have been too late and missed the boat (I know, sorry, bad choice of words) on it… but we kept our fingers crossed.

As we retreated back into the room to get dressed for the day, Jodie settled on a bikini and a cover up, announcing that today was going to be all about warming her bump under the sun and drinking as many fake ass margaritas as she could handle.

I laughed at her announcement. We had noticed that the bars actually seemed to have a healthy stock of non-alcoholic cocktail recipes on board. We weren’t sure if we could find a margarita exactly, but we were sure we could find something slushy that could do in a pinch.

I settled on a tee shirt and shorts, and with that, we set off for breakfast, already having been awake for a couple of hours, we were both starving. Breakfast itself was quiet – it was still early, and we were thankful we had beaten the rush. As much as were looking forward to meeting our little munchkin that was growing inside my wife’s belly, we had learned long ago that big groups of families with lots of small kids all yelling and screaming in unison was not really something we enjoyed. I’m dreading this little kiddie’s future birthday parties!

We made quick work of our breakfast, and continued up to the family pool area. We had around an hour before the spa opened, so settled back into a sun lounger and caught the morning sun as it rose higher and higher in the sky. Just as I thought I was dozing off, I heard a buzzing next to me. Jodie grabbed her phone and tapped on the screen. “Time to go!” she announced. I realised that she had actually set a timer to get us to the spa as early as possible – she was certainly a woman on a mission.

After giving her a hand up, we left a towel on the lounger in hopes that it would deter anyone from using them by the time we got back – we had found some very nice spots – and headed back down to deck 5. A member of the spa staff greeted us at the door, holding it open as we walked in. The reception area was nicely decorated, plenty of wood and plants – I suppose it was the norm for this sort of thing – celebrating nature, life and all that type of jazz.

Jodie asked about a possibility of a massage, and the receptionist looked through, advising her that all appointments had been booked for this week so far, and she could get a spot next week. She looked a bit dejected, but accepted that at least she was going to get her massage – just had to hope that she hadn’t given birth before then!

The staff were all smiles as they said that they could easily convert a maternity massage to a sports massage if I wanted to take your place should that happen. I honestly think that Jodie’s eyes were staring daggers at the lady as she announced that little titbit of information.

Suddenly the phone rang. The lady excused herself and picked up the phone. After a series of discussions, she announced that one of the other guests had actually cancelled for a session which was due to start in 30 minutes, so she could take that one instead.

I had never seen my wife smile so much. She was elated when she saw the pregnancy test, when she saw the baby for the first time on the ultrasound, and hell, even when we got married, but I seriously think that her smile could have gone from ear to ear at that announcement.

We were booked in, and filled in the questionnaire they handed us about any issues that she may have been having, that sort of thing. We said our goodbyes as she went off for her massage, but as she waddled off down the corridor to meet her massage therapist, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye.

“Is that available for after her massage by any chance?” I asked, pointing at an entry on the board of the spa area. A quick tap on the computer had confirmed that indeed it was – so I booked a 30 minute slot for myself and Jodie for after her massage.

The receptionist beamed “please come here a few minutes ahead of schedule sir and we will send your wife straight over after she is done with her massage.” I thanked the lady and headed back to deck 10 to enjoy the rising sun.

Jodie entered the treatment room to find a seat and a bed. The seat was a little unusual though – it was intended that you would straddle it – there was a hole for the belly and the head – it was so your back could be exposed without needing to lie down. The therapist explained that she would be in that for the first 30 minutes, getting her back and shoulders done, then she would move to the bed for a more traditional maternity massage, lying on her side with a pillow to support her bump.

After a quick check if she would need to be naked – indeed she would need to be – the therapist left the room so she could undress. She bundled up the coverup, and her bikini top and bottoms into the corner of the room, and looked at the chair. It had a paper cover at the bottom where you sat on for hygiene purposes, so she swung her legs over and pulling her weight over on a positioned grab rail next to the chair, slotted her belly into the hole on the padded rest. She tentatively leaned forward so her head was resting in the hole designed for it, the cushioned padding feeling warm to the touch. Between the hole in the back of the chair for her bump, and the slightly tilted forward position it left her head, she was surprised how comfortable it was – her breasts weren’t squashed up against the back of the chair or anything.

There was a knock at the door and a few moments later the therapist entered, smiling that Jodie had managed to get herself situated on the chair by herself. The therapist put on some relaxing music, poured oils onto her hands and told Jodie to relax, as she started moving her hands up and down her back, finding knots and tense areas all the way down her spine as Jodie could do nothing else but groan in appreciation.

For the next 30 minutes, Jodie was lost in her own little trance. The massage therapist moved up and down her back, squeezing and massaging her shoulders and the back of her neck, and then returning to her back once again. Jodie may have even fell asleep at one point, as she felt as soon as she had started, the 30 minutes were up, and the massage therapist was asking her to move over to the bed.

Jodie groaned – partly through enjoying the service so far, and partly as she really didn’t want to move from the comfortable position she was in, but taking the massage therapists hands, she managed to swing her leg back over the chair and wobbly stand on her own 2 feet. Steadying herself for a second, she waddled over to the bed across the room.

The massage therapist advised that she should lay down on the side of her choice, and she would need to move over to the other side after a few minutes – no lying on her back with a bump by all accounts. She chose to lay facing right at first, with the massage therapist laying a blanket over her and tucking it into place so she was fully covered with her head exposed.

The therapist moved over and sat down so she was at eye level with Jodie as she started to massage her face and temple. Jodie admitted it felt strange getting only half of her face massaged, but appreciated the fact that she would have had to lie with her belly to her side – she knew fine well how uncomfortable it was having the full weight of her baby pressing straight down on her insides if she was lying directly on her back.

The therapist moved down to massage her arm and hand on the exposed side, digging her thumbs in the appropriate places on Jodie’s palms to once more have her elicit a groan of appreciation.

Next to be massaged was her belly, though the therapist only used a light touch and didn’t apply any significant pressure, but it was clear that the baby within was enjoying it as much as the mother was, as bumps and pokes continued for minutes after the therapist had left the area, much to the amusement of both ladies.

Finally she moved down to Jodie’s hips and legs, as she massaged her thighs, once more using both hands to press her thumbs into Jodie’s skin, and whilst it was painful for a fraction of a second, the aches soon melted away under the expert touch of the masseuse.

As she moved further down the legs to Jodie’s ankles she managed to ask if that was safe – she’d heard things about ankle massage promoting the onset of labour. The masseuse gave a small laugh but reassured her that it was indeed safe, though once she was actually in labour, it had been suggested that massaging the feet and ankles helped relieve pain during contractions – so to perhaps keep that in mind when the time came.

Jodie managed a quick word of thanks as the ministrations of the masseuse send her lulling back into a blissful doze, thumbs of the masseuse digging into the soles of her feet and rubbing around her heels and ankles – the natural swelling in those areas deserving a lot more attention to relieve the aches and pains of carrying all the additional baby weight.

She was asked to sit up and re-position herself on her other side where it started all over again – face, arms, hands, belly, hips, legs and finally feet. At the end Jodie didn’t even know which way was up and down.

Jodie was given a hand up by the masseuse, who grabbed a clean dressing gown from the shelf next to her and wrapped it around Jodie in order to preserve her modesty as she sat back down again on the bed.

“Now drink plenty of water” she advised Jodie who nodded in turn, managing a dozy sounding confirmation by way of response. She was drifting on cloud nine right now, her entire body feeling ache free and loose. “I understand your husband has arranged a special surprise for you after your massage was finished, so if you’re OK with that, I’ll lead you to where he is waiting rather than to reception?”

Jodie’s attention jumped at that news. She wondered what was planned. Taking a tentative step up from the bed, she grabbed her clothes and followed the masseuse out of the treatment room and down the corridor. As they came to a door, Jodie noticed a sign saying ‘Rasul’ on the door. The masseuse keyed in a code and the two of them walked into a changing room of sorts, evidence of 1 set of clothing was hung up on the pegs, which Jodie recognised as being what I had been wearing earlier in the day – all of what I had been wearing.

The masseuse picked up the loose threads that were going through Jodie’s mind. “Please, when you are ready, you may lay your clothing down here, and take off your robe. Feel free to join your husband in the next room. I will lock the door behind me. Enjoy.” She smiled as she turned and walked out, the door lock clicking into place.

Jodie laid the bundle of clothes she was carrying down onto a seat in the corner of the room and opened the robe, hanging it up on a peg next to my own clothes. Taking sight of the door into the next room, she turned the handle and opened it to find me sitting there, stark naked.

“Come in babe.” I offered with a beaming smile on my face, my gorgeous wife silhouetted by the doorway. I stood up and walked over, cock swaying as I stepped across the room, watching her eyes home in on it and the smile light up on her face.

I took her hand and lead her over to the area I was sitting in – a long multi person bench which was covered in the same ceramic tiles as the rest of the room was decorated in. On top of this bench area were several cushions which were wrapped in a plastic or fake leather style covering which kept them waterproof and easy to wipe down.

“I know you shouldn’t be spending too long on your feet after having your entire body massaged to extreme levels, so please take a seat.” She did as I asked and settled herself down onto the cushion. “I read something about these being offered on the brochure and I knew we had to try it… a mud rasul. Basically what we do is cover each other in these pots of mud…” she noticed the pots now that I was pointing to “… and from there we have fun whilst it dries and moisturises your skin. Then we wash it off.”

“Oh really. What sort of fun do we have whilst its drying?” she asked, her mind already working to consider what I could offer.

“What sort of fun do you think 2 adults could have in the privacy of a locked room and 30 minutes to ourselves?” I answered, my own voice sounding mischievous.

“I can think of a few things you are really good at doing…” she purred at this point, relaxing into the seat as I grabbed the pot of mud and scooped out a large handful, smearing it on her belly. We took it in turns grabbing handfuls of mud from the pot and smearing it over each other’s body, our hands becoming a slippy mess as we smeared ourselves head to toe – well at least Jodie was smeared head to toe – I had to make do with whatever she could reach from her sitting position, but I had plenty of it covered in key spots – including 2 rather interesting hand prints on my butt as she slapped and grabbed.

As soon as we were covered in mud, we moved into rubbing each other and kissing, my hands finding her breasts, making patterns in the mud and playing with her nipples as she begged me to use my hands elsewhere. I did as I was asked, washing the mud off my hands with the jet of water available to one side as she parted her legs, her pussy lips a bright pink spot in the middle of a sea of brown mud.

My two fingers slipped in effortlessly, she was wet and waiting for me. I was grinning as I inserted them, offering “I didn’t know that the massage was that good.” She didn’t respond, just moaned loud as my fingers pushed in deeper, suddenly stopping and hooking them up to rub against her insides, dangerously close to her arousal zone. She was pleading at me with her eyes as I twitched my fingers back and forth, her head lolling backwards as she could do nothing else but moan again in obvious appreciation.

I spent a few minutes teasing the area as her hands roamed my body, eventually jump-grabbing her hands to my hair and pulling hard as her orgasm took over. She was quivering in my hands as I moved my fingers slowly back and forth, each movement setting her off again. She managed to tell me not to stop as I kept on doing the same for a good 30 seconds, she was eventually a panting wreck, managing a weak call for me to stop as she couldn’t take it anymore.

I hadn’t had my fill though. I got her to hold her legs back in a pseudo pushing pose, as I wrapped my arms around behind her breasts, grasping my hands together behind her, tipping her back as I supported her. She was hesitant at first, her only contact with the seat at this point was her ass and she was very concerned with slipping off, but as I thrust into her, her eyes rolled back into her head and any anxiety about moving was lost as I pressed her deeper and deeper into the seat with each thrust.

She pulled on her knees as she felt the next orgasm build, separating her legs more and giving me another fraction of an inch to go deeper, our mud-covered bodies slapping together with slick, gloopy sounds as I trusted back and forth. We had the idea that we were in a semi-public place in the back of our minds, even though the door was locked, but that made it all the more thrilling in the moment. She lost any inhibition as she approached her second orgasm of the session, her breathy moans changing to vocal yells as the feelings inside her reached higher and higher peaks of excitement. Jodie’s enjoyment fuelled me as I reached my climax, my own gasping moans joining hers as she felt the surge of liquid shoot from me and my twitching cock move inside her as it deposited spurt after spurt.

I let her lower her legs down and helped keep her upright as she managed to shakily put them on the ground, both of our breaths coming in panting gasps, exertion from the recent surge of activity enough to leave us out of breath. My own hands were shaky and my arms aching as I grabbed the shower head to the side and suggested we should get cleaned up.

I’d dare say we had as much fun washing off the mud as we had putting it on. The water was warmed to body temperature so it wasn’t unnecessarily too hot or cold, just our hands rubbing against each other. We finished with moving back into the changing room next door, into the shower in the changing room, where we finally found one on the ship which could accommodate both of us and the bump comfortably. Keeping an eye on the clock – 25 minutes of our 30 minute session had passed – we spent the next few minutes towelling each other down, enjoying the soft feel of the exquisite towels that were provided against our skins. I gave Jodie a hand to get back into her bikini and cover up, taking a moment to pull on my own shorts and tee shirt as I pushed the robe she had entered the room with into the wash basket. As we unlocked the door and caught sight of one of the ladies from the spa, she smiled.

“I hope you’re both nice and relaxed now, and I really hope you enjoyed our rasul room. Its unusual to have on a ship, but Mr LeGrand was very insistent that it should be included when the ship was designed.”

“If I see him, ill tell him thanks, it was wonderful.” I replied, my hand gravitating towards Jodie’s back as we waved goodbye to the staff, left the room and headed back up to the pool deck.

We were fully expecting that our reserved beds would have been taken by others since the day was now getting close to lunchtime, but to our surprise, both beds were free. Jodie settled down and sent me off to get her a water – all the exertion taking it out of her, along with the recommendation form the masseuse fresh in her mind. By the time I got back, she was asleep on the sun lounger.

#fpreg #birth kink #birth #pregnancy #labor kink

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