#if you have a problem! throw it in the deer pit!!!!!

[transangeliccowboy]

throw your landlord in the deer pit!

[liplinerloser]

can I request a short sort of angsty fic with Leon Kennedy when he’s in his alcoholic self destruction era? Thank you

☆ Alcoholic Leon Kennedy x reader ☆

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ :

Angst, alcohol abuse, codependency

A lengthy sigh escaped you as you packed the remainder of your daily belongings from your desk and back into your bag, it had been a long day, you practically grimaced at the idea of going home and having an even longer night.

Coming home after work didn’t feel like the welcome respite you were so used to, being greeted at the door by your favourite rookie cop with that dopey smile plastered across his face. You never admitted it but you found it so cute.

It was nice when it was like that, you thought, making your way down the practically barren streets near your home, the only noise that greeted you back was the harsh stamping of your shoes on the pavement. Finally coming face to face with the dull Matte paint of your front door, and after fumbling around with your keys for an eternity, you welcomed yourself into your cold quiet home.

Leon was definitely Home, he finished way before you which he used to use to his advantage to do nice things for you. A smile tugs at your lips remembering when he had attempted to make dinner, key words attempted. Giggling out loud you recall what monstrosity he had concocted in your kitchen. It was burnt to hell, you weren’t even really sure what it was supposed to be.

You tried to be kinder on him despite the nipping snide comments on the edge of your tongue, he had it rough, his job was constantly whittling away at whatever semblance of himself he had left, you knew to be gentle with him.

“Leon? Have you eaten anything? It’s pretty late but I could make something real quick, or order out”, you called, the desperate voice echoing back around the silent house.

Slipping your shoes off and practically throwing your jacket onto the sofa, you wandered around searching for him. He had a tendency to fall asleep wherever he felt tired enough to do so, so maybe he’d just done that again.

The disappointment you felt when you found him was grating. There was your man, hunched over the dining room table, cans of cheap shitty bear and emptied bottles of god knows what surrounded him. You fought back tears as you approached him, a familiar ache present in your chest.

“Leon. Get up, please.”, despite the fact you tried to sound harsh your voice faltered, as you bit back tears. Gently you approached his side, nudging him in an attempt to wake him, not even an acknowledging sigh.

He had done this so many times, drank himself dumb then looked at you like you were the problem. But you wanted a life with him, you kept holding onto that person he was before. God you missed him, this wasn’t him.

“Leon, I’m being serious.”, there was a grit to your voice, you swallowed the pit lodged in your throat and approached him, prodding his stiff shoulder, eliciting only a groan in response, frustrating you further

You tutted, as if dealing with an insolent child and not your alcoholic fiancé who refused to sober up. muttering an onslaught of phrases under your breath, you cleaned his mess, binned the bottles and the cans, wiped the table down.

As you cleaned the remnants of his mess you couldn’t help a small part of your brain glance at him, quietly begging him to come back. To say everything was fine now, and for him to love you the way he used to.

“What’re you doing…some of those were half full.”, he grumbled back with his sleep rasped voice. You gritted your teeth in response, ‘I clean up after him and I tolerate him and all he can be bothered to ask is why I got rid of his precious alcohol.’, you’d never say that to him. You loved him too much. He deserved patience with what he had been through.

In his drunken stupor he attempted To stand, wobbling like a baby deer, he tried to steel himself but to no avail. He had fallen to the floor with a thud, sat motionless. You could hardly make out the expression on his face, anger? Or maybe sadness?

It was as if something had snapped for you.

You practically choked upon seeing fat tears pouring down his cheeks, not only was he wasting his life away on a drink but he had the gaul to cry over it. It was unbelievable, he’d rather cry over something he could buy again than even try to fix your relationship, or fix himself.

These thoughts had completely worked you up, a familiar lump forming in your throat as you struggled to bite back tears. You just mustn’t have been worth it to him. You forced your head back awkwardly, preventing tears from falling, inhaling breathes like you were on the verge of death. you couldn’t cry in front of him, and show him how he had hurt you? Never.

All you wanted to do was go to him, wrap your arms around his soft hair, press his head into the crook of your neck and rock him, soothe him. But it felt as thought he didn’t want you anymore, he would rather loathe in self pity and wallow than even talk to you about his problems.

It felt as though you had been stabbed with a blunt knife, the man you devoted your life to was crying over alcohol and not the sullen shape of his partner before him.

You dialed the first number on your phone, Claire, you had to get away from this fucking house, from this man. Or this sickly guilt in your stomach would eat you alive.

“Hi Claire, I’m so sorry I know it’s late.. please, please can you pick me up, I’ll explain later-“, pursing your lips as you spoke as to not let the barrage of tears drown your cheeks. You looked back at him, he stared only at the floor, and at his own hands.

He didn’t deserve an explanation, the build up was long enough, he should’ve realised he couldn’t expect you to stick around in a loveless relationship.

Swallowing your tears you turned on your heel, swiftly grabbing whatever belongings you needed for the night before slamming the front door with a graceless thud.

You had left him alone.

He was practically gasping for breath, suffocating from the weight of his sins and his inability to express them to you. His lips pursed as his chin trembled, he felt truly weak.

You had assumed his tears were shallow, crying over spilt beer, in reality as he peered up at you from the floor he had understood what he had become. He mourned for you, what he had put you through.

Sobs racked Leon’s chest harder than any bullet on any of his past missions ever could, each cry echoing off his ribs into the empty chasm of his hollow body.

He tried again to get up, he wanted to pursue you, hold you, apologise to you a million times over. If only he hadn’t drank so much. Leon’s legs couldn’t support him, he tried desperately to crawl to the front door, gasping for breath in a panic.

He was going to lose you. You were going to leave.

You didn’t even turn back to him.

Pausing, he had finally realised these were the consequences. His muscular forearms propped him up on the wooden floor but his vision was becoming hazy, staring at the heavy door, waiting for it to open, for him to see your welcoming figure come to embrace him. The house felt empty without you.

he loved you with everything he could offer but he was pathetic, incapable of dealing with emotional plight, immature and lashing out. he loved you so fucking much. But that wasn’t enough.

fumbling around desperately he reached into his pocket for his phone, he dialed you like his life depended on it. Maybe you’d turn around and come back. You could play house with him again.

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

His fingers practically bled with the ferocity he slammed the digits into the phone, bile rose in his throat at the thought that plagued his mind now. He dug crescent shaped wounds into the flesh of his hands out of frustration.

You weren’t coming back.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 12 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hello everybody. Guess what I have another sad chapter.

What?! No way?!

Yeah sorry!

So I tried to brighten it up at the end cause we are falling into a deep dark pit of depression. Like where did the sun go? I had so much fun writing the Liebgott story and then had to come back to my very depressing OC, bahahahah. I feel so bad these chapters have been brutal. And I’m really sorry to say it’s gonna keep being brutal for like a while more. I have written some sad shit. GUYS LIKE I HAVE A PROBLEM WHO HURT ME?

This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters no hate to anyone involved.

(This is just for fun, but this clip is Skip and Alex, iykyk)

“You see what I got?” Hoob asked me while I dig out my foxhole. I wipe my brow looking at him perched at the edge. He grins at me, looking pleased with himself.

“No. What did you get?” I ask stabbing my shovel into the hard ground and throwing the dirt out of the pit. Hoob pulls out a gun, turning it over in his hands.

“A gun?” I ask. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No Em! Not just any gun, it’s a Luger pistol.” Hoob raises his eyebrows.

“How did you get a Luger? Isn’t that a German gun?” He seems happy with my response, getting himself comfortable. He tells me the story of how he came to be in possession of the pistol. Apparently he and some of the boys ran into a German on horseback, and in the man’s escape, Hoob had shot him off the horse.

“Well that’s certainly impressive Hoob, that must’ve been a good shot.” He cheeses at me, nodding his head enthusiastically, happy with my compliment. I laugh, thinking about how his love language is probably words of affirmation, he is so pleased to be praised.

“You think so?” He inquires, wanting more approval. I turn my attention to him, I place my hand on his shoulder looking him in the eyes.

“The best Hoob!” I grin at the man, his face blushes from my compliment. I giggle at the man, as he gets up from his position, telling me he is going to show the others.

I continue to dig out my hole, happy for the workout as it warms my body. Every now and then laughing as Hoob's cute smile flashes in my mind when I told him he was the best shot.

A gunshot sounds, I crouch down instinctively. Scanning my surroundings, my mind in overdrive already, did that hit someone? Where did it come from? I wait for someone to yell for a medic. I crouch down further, into my nearly finished hole. I open my bag checking I have everything I need. My hand brushes against the soft material of the dress Renee gave me. I stroke the fabric in between my fingers, when will I ever get to wear this?

“MEDIC!” I sit up looking out of the hole, “MEDIC!” I am on my feet rushing over to the voice.

Men crowd around a body, covering him in jackets. My body stutters, as I am about to move forward to help, one of the men leans back just enough for me to glimpse the face of the man lying on the floor. Hoob. I freeze, like a deer in headlights. I can’t take my eyes off of his face.

“LANE! FOCUS!” Lip yells at me pulling me from my daze. I kneel down beside him, looking at Hoob’s leg, blood spurts from the wound, fuck it’s the artery, I have to move fast. I grab a dressing from my bag tying it above the wound, I tie it as tightly as possible. Hoob groans in pain, squirming under my touch.

“Hoob stay still, you gotta hold still for me, ok.” I try to reassure the man. I look around. “I need a stick.” I tell Lip who nods, turning around to find me something. The men around Hoob continue to talk to him, how long did it take me to get to him? How long has he been bleeding? Lip hands me a stick. I place it over the bandage, tying it with the spare material. I twist it around, tightening it. I continue to turn the stick, but blood still pours from the wound. No no, please!

“Lane! Lane!” Buck shouts. Lip’s hand comes over mine, I get ready to yell at him for stopping me, but it’s when I notice the stillness. No groans of pain, no words of support. Just the men looking at me, sadness in their eyes. I look at Hoob, his eyes closed, face grey, lying still. I look down at my hands covered in his blood. I sit back, wiping my hands on the snow. I was too late, not fast enough, not good enough. I stand and turn on my heel, walking back to my foxhole. Wiping the stray tears from my face. I hate this place, how things change so quickly. Just an hour ago he was sitting and talking to me, smiling, happy. Now he lies on the cold ground as the warmth leaves his body, as his friends mourn him. He won’t make it home to tell his family his stories, for them to tell him he is, was, a great shot. Wasn’t fast enough, not good enough! I didn’t notice I was crying until my tears blurred my vision and landed on my still bloody hands.

“Emily.” Malarkey jumped into my hole.

“Huh?” I said looking up at him with my tear stained face. His brows furrowed.

“Oh Em.” Fell from his lips, and that’s all it took to set me off again. He pulled me into his chest, letting me cry.

“It was my fault, I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” I whimper.

“It is not your fault Emily.” He said sternly. Pulling me back to look in my face. “You hear me!” I nodded sniffing. The voice in the back of my mind however doesn’t believe him, a part of me still holds onto the fact it was my fault. What could I have done differently? Not good enough.

“Come on Skip and Penky are waiting for us, I said I was coming to fetch you.” I wiped my face, hoping my eyes didn’t look too red and swollen.

I sit next to Skip in the hole, as Bill crouches down speaking to us. I push the thought of Hoob doing the same thing that very morning to the back of my mind, while Bill speaks. I don’t listen, I just stare at Bill. Watching his mouth move, the subtle pulse in his neck, his flushed cheeks, and breath in the freezing air. Alive. I think they’re all bitching about Dike, which doesn’t surprise me. The worst CO so far, I would say, I mean I think he is the worst he is hardly around to demonstrate it. Bill is worked up. I know we have to go into that small town we now border. Where the Germans hold the upper hand. Bill is afraid to go into that town with Dike leading, rightly so, I would also be shit scared of being led to my death. It’s a suicide mission with Dike, but we can’t change him, not without cause. Plus it’s Winters’ say not ours. The heavy feeling in my body still lingers, it pulls me away from reality, like it can’t handle it. My brain drags me to where it feels safe. Not here, not sitting in a foxhole, freezing my ass off, with the impending doom of death around every corner. I look around at the men I sit with. I take in every feature, saving it to memory. I do this a lot, I find myself doing it more often now. Like a coping mechanism. I think it’s because of my mother, I wish I had studied every feature of her face to refined detail. So that I could see her all the time when I needed to. But I didn’t, and now she fades. So, I will store every piece of these men to memory. I take note of how they laugh, the way their eyes crinkle when they smile, how they speak and joke.

Skip nudges me, tilting his head, his eyes asking me if I’m alright. I nod and smile. Making myself present in their conversation again.

“I know, Bill, all right? It’s me you’re talking to.” Don assures Bill he understands him.

“Jesus Christ! We’ve gotta do all this with a CO who’s got his head so far up his fucking ass, that lump in his throat is his goddamn nose.” Penkala and I chuckle at Bill’s crude statement.

“I like that one, think I’m gonna use it. Mind if I steal it from you?” I joke, making Penkala laugh again.

“Emmy, I know it’s a good one, I came up with it!” He grins at me, I laugh, shaking my head.

“I don’t know about that!” I say mocking suspicion.

Lip arrives, giving a pep talk to the men, trying to make Dike seem better than he is. I understand where Lip is coming from though. It throws everyone into a panic when they start thinking about how bad Dike is, which then affects the whole platoon. Nothing works when everyone is running around like headless chickens. I admire Lip, being able to keep everyone together and with morale, when Dike is god knows where. If it wasn’t for Lip, I’m not sure Easy company would be as good as it is today. Everyone trusts and respects him, I don’t even think he realises it, the impact he has on everyone. It’s hard to keep in high spirits and then bring that energy to everyone else as well. But Lip manages to do it ten-fold.

After Lip and Bill leave we sit and talk, the conversation fading out after a bit.

“Huddle in guys. You want to play a game?” I asked, as we moved closer together, a few eh’s went around the circle. “What do you mean eh?”

“Well it’s just the last time we played one of your games, it was I spy and Alex here had tree as his answer about ten times in a row.” Malarkey recounts the last time I suggested playing a game. I mean I spy wasn’t the best to play, since there was really nothing much to see in the woods.

“Hey, what else is there to see other than trees!” Alex complains, he was salty because everytime he started to say, “I spy with my little eye”, everyone would automatically guess tree before he could finish his sentence and then that would be his turn over.

“And then it ended in poor taste when someone spied a dead body!” Malarkey gives a pointed look to Skip.

“Hey it’s what I spied, that was the game!” Skip protested.

I laugh thinking about how we were all stumped, “D, what starts with D?” We couldn’t guess it so we had Skip tell us, he seemed very proud of himself no one could get it right. “The answer is, dead body.” Then everyone sighed and he was upset because we stopped it there.

“No this one is better I swear!” I reassure the men, who seemed apprehensive at my game ideas.

A beat passes as they think about whether or not they are going to let me explain the game to them.

“Fine! What is it?” Malarkey sighs. I grin, clapping my hands together.

“Fuck, marry, kill!” I say excitedly.

“What?!” The three say in unison, unsure if they had heard me correctly.

“Fuck, marry, kill. It’s easy you name three people for one person to decide out of the three who they would rather kill, fuck and marry.”

“I don’t get it.” Don says looking confused.

“Yeah no me either.” Skip agrees.

“Ok well I will give you an example. Ok. Alex fuck, marry, kill. Dike, Bill and Lip!” I direct the question to Alex who looks perplexed.

“What, no I’m not doing guys, that’s weird, I don’t want to fuck any of them!” Alex exclaims.

“It’s hypothetical. It’s not actually going to happen, just say who you would rather.” I assured him. Everyone sat eager to hear.

“Fine! Fine! I have my answer.” Alex finally says.

“Amazing, let’s hear it!” I prompt him.

“I would kill Dike.” Small giggle’s from all of us. We try to contain ourselves so that Alex can still be heard.

“Absolutely, go on.” I nod.

“I would… fuck Bill and marry Lip.” Alex blurts.

“YES! Yes Alex, omg couldn’t have said it better myself. I agree.” Laughter sounds from the other men.

“Ok now Alex you get to ask one of us three people to choose to fuck, marry, kill.”

“Don, fuck, marry, kill.” I’m giddy just hearing Alex say these words, I giggle.

“Bull, Perco, Cobb.” We all burst out laughing as Don groans. We lean in waiting with baited breath to hear his answer, grins on all of our faces.

“Marry Bull.” Giggling, “Kill Cobb.” Nodding. “Fuck Perco.” Roaring with laughter. “Shut up, you lot.” I wipe my eyes, I’m laughing so hard I’m crying.

“Ok then Skip fuck, marry, kill. Babe, Peacock, Tab.” Skip gawks at him, as we burst out laughing again. I can’t stop the fit of giggles that burst from my lips. Alex and I lean on each other for support.

“Ok, ok.” Skip starts trying to get us to listen, I slap Alex’s knee crying laughing. “Fuck Tab.” He raises his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. I throw my head back laughing, taking down Alex with me. “Marry Babe, and kill Peacock.” We howl with laughter, Don playfully hit Skip.

“What?! We were all thinking it!” Skip manages to say through tears.

“Right, now it’s Em’s turn. Emily.” I nod to show I’m listening while trying to regain my composure. “Us three.” I gawk.

“What!” I protested, I am shoved by Alex and Skip as Don raises his eyebrows like you-better answer-cause-we-all-did.

“OK! OK! I would kill Skip.” He looks so offended crying out a “HEY!”

“I’m sorry but Faye would kill me if I did anything, so I’m best to cover my bases. I would fuck Alex and I would marry Don.” The group aww in unison, making me blush. “Oh shut up you lot!”

We continue playing until we can’t think of any more people to choose from. We were so loud we had caught the attention of the other men around us. Multiple people came to see what all the commotion was about, being very confused why we were all red in the face and breathless from laughing. It was so funny we couldn’t even begin to explain the game to the other soldiers. It was the most fun I think we have had in a while. After we finished my stomach hurt from laughing so hard, same as my face from grinning for hours. Alex had started to lose his voice from cackling. By the end of the game we were so exhausted.

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

Chapter 13

[legend-of-dorte]

Through Flame and Flood - Chapter 1 (Felix x Reader)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Tags: #Angst and Hurt/Comfort #Blood and Injury #Canonical Character Death #Gender Neutral Reader #Enemies to Friends…Frenemies?

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 3178

Summary: Verdant Wind route, Great Tree Moon. Reader (Gender Neutral) is a member of the Golden Deer House by the start of Edelgard’s campaign. Felix was not recruited and thus follows Dimitri to Gronder to unleash vengeful fury upon Edelgard. Stationed between a hill and a hard place, you are unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle.

Notes: This fic will follow the events of Chapter 17 in the Golden Deer/Verdant Wind route, during the shitstorm of Gronder. Scenes of death and injury will be toned down where possible, but take caution all the same. Enjoy! -sir dorts

also available on ao3!

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You descended the field with practiced footfalls, making nary a sound as you closed in on a patch of trees dead ahead. Taking shelter in the wooded grove, you ducked low as the air above thundered with the wingbeats of wyverns and pegasi overhead - airborne soldiers in tight formation. Kingdom? Imperial? It hardly made a difference if they marked you an enemy.

The Battle of Gronder Field was nigh. The rest of your comrades were assembled north of the Airmid River, ready to march on Claude’s signal. You, however, were tasked with a different assignment.

Reaching for the bow strapped to your back, you recalled your Professor’s instructions.

“This concerns the Blaiddyd standard. I need you to keep eyes on whoever is flying it.”

Easy enough, right? Claude had made his position clear by uniting the Church of Seiros and the Leicester Alliance under a single banner. If Edelgard was determined to stamp out any remnants loyal to the Kingdom, it stood to reason that whoever was marching on behalf of House Blaiddyd would throw in their lot with the coalition.

Except that hasn’t happened. From this mysterious group, there were no overtures of an alliance. Even if Dimitri were somehow alive and leading this retinue, there was no way of knowing what designs he had on Gronder Field.

Your professor may as well have sent you behind enemy lines to chase ghosts. Ridiculous, you thought. And yet there was a knot of dread tightening in the pit of your stomach.

If they wanted to play nice with us and gang up against the Imperial Army, they would have said something by now. Sent a message. A hello, at the very least. All we’ve gotten from them is silence.

Silence that was somehow more ominous than Edelgard’s declaration of war five years ago.

Whoever they are, whatever they are planning, it’s obvious they’re not interested in coordinating.

You picked up the sound of faint explosions from the west, followed by the shouts of Imperial foot soldiers and the thunder of their march.

Shit. They’re ramping up already.

Taking position up behind a tree, you motioned for your companion to hurry up and do the same. Poor Marianne - a bishop’s habit was not constructed for stealthy movement through the overgrown field. You stared at her with equal parts pity and frustration as she hurried to your side.

The idea was hardly yours. It was Claude trying to fill in the gaps in his strategy, insuring you and your comrades against all the unknowns.

“Sorry to spring this on you right before sortie, but I need you and Marianne to hold that position east of the hill. If you remember how we won the Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago, then you know the one. I’ll find a way to make us even, I promise.”

No problem, Claude, you thought irritably. But you owe me a week of night patrol duty if I manage to survive this.

Could you even? Aileil had been horrid enough, now here you were stuck between a heavily contested area and an unknown band of soldiers.

Marianne must have sensed your unease, for she wore a look of guilt.

“…My apologies,” she murmured. “If any harm were to befall you, the fault would surely be mine.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any other partner for this task,” you chastised her. “Don’t worry about what might or might not go wrong. Let’s try to support our friends and stay alive.”

“Y-Yes, of course. You’re right,” your companion nodded, drawing in a sharp breath to steel her nerves. “I must focus on keeping everyone safe.”

“That’s right. Just like the last time we were here,” you encouraged her. “Remember how you hid in the foliage and healed our wounds from afar while we took the central hill? And the look on Hubert’s face when you cast Silence on him!”

The glorious Battle of the Eagle and Lion. You and the Golden Deer had won the day. No doubt Claude was banking on that same trick from five years ago, except this time you would provide cover fire and prevent any errant forces pinching the main force from the east. Imperial, Kingdom, or otherwise.

She blushed, ducking her head down lower. “Please don’t remind me. I’m not certain if I could pull it off again. And I don’t know how brave I could be if I were to face off against Hubert now.”

“If we’re lucky, you won’t have to,” you told her grimly, tightening the string on your bow. “Just keep your eyes on the hill and use your magicks on anyone coming from that direction. I’ll keep tabs on the east in case that renegade troop decides to show their faces.”

“The ones marching under the Kingdom’s banner…” Marianne bit her lip before daring to ask. “You don’t think it could be…?”

You patted yourself down, counting the throwing knives stored on your person and making sure they were well within reach. “Dimitri? Dedue? The rest of the Blue Lions? They could be dead in a ditch for all we know…”

“I suppose,” Marianne mused, frowning at your cold remark. She flexed her fingers to keep them from trembling. “But…There’s still a chance that some of them managed to flee the Kingdom. Like, for example…”

“…who?”

Where her gaze was usually timid, there was now a strange intensity as her eyes met yours.

“Like Felix.”

In that moment you fell silent, rapt by a sudden flash in your memory. The clash of a wooden blade. The sand of the practice arena flying from beneath your heels. Dark hair, piercing eyes, and a familiar voice taunting insults that you couldn’t remember but still boiled your blood all the same. Blue skies above and your bruised knees beneath you. Your battered pride. An outstretched hand, unexpected, clasping yours and lifting you onto your feet.

There was a sting in your chest that you knew all too well, though dulled over the passing of years. You shook your head to purge your thoughts.

“Felix?” you scoffed. “Why him, of all people?”

“Wasn’t he your friend?”

A friend who was all too happy to let you know how garbage you were at wielding a blade.

“…I sparred with him maybe once or twice,” You mumbled lowly. “We weren’t even in the same House. I wouldn’t exactly call him my friend.”

“A-are you sure?” Marianne asked, eyes wide with confusion. “But the two of you were always… Back then, it always looked as though-” She cut herself off. “Never mind… I probably got the wrong idea…”

The wrong idea? About what?

You wanted to press the subject further, but there was no time to reminisce about carefree days long gone. Not when the very field you stood upon was about to erupt into a battleground.

“It’s fine,” you breathed, feeling your nerves hitch. “It’s gonna be fine, we’ll be fine. Just follow Claude’s playbook. Break the blockade, rush the artillery station, use long-range fire to suppress the Imperials, cover the advance guard…”

Easy both said and done, right? But luck would have it otherwise.

“… Something’s wrong,” Marianne uttered, her stare intense.

You narrowed your gaze towards the east. “What, the Kingdom army? Are they here already? I don’t see anyone approaching…”

Marianne shook her head. “No. The hill. Something’s different. Did they do something to it?”

You glanced over your shoulder, frowning. Sure enough, there was the central hill, with the artillery station mounted at its apex. Someone was seated there, but you were unable to discern their features from this distance.

“They may have done something with the ballista,” you reasoned, shifting your position to get a better look. “I mean, if they anticipate us coming up the hill, it would make sense to occupy it first-”

Something was making the soles of your boots stick to the ground, like you had stepped in glue. Except the smell of it made your nose burn.

“Why is the ground all sticky?” Marianne asked, lifting the hem of her skirts. There was a black stain that wasn’t there before.

Keeping one eye on the turret, you dared a few steps toward the hill. Quick and quiet, in spite of the strange liquid clinging to your soles. Crouching down, you rubbed your gloved fingers against the ground, catching grass and more of that sticky substance. Was the hill… dripping?

Then it clicked. Your nose stung with the scent of something dark and bitter, like tar. A hint of pine, but also something more noxious. In an instant, you recalled the explosive noises further afield. Your eyes lifted towards the hill and widened as you realized in horror the depth of Edelgard’s scheming.

The entire hillside was slick and glistening - with foul, putrid-smelling, volatile pitch.

Horrified, you turned a heel and darted back into the trees where Marianne was waiting fretfully.

“Get back! Away from the hill!” you hissed. “They’re going to burn it! We have to warn the others!”

You grabbed Marianne’s arm, pulling her along with you. Just as you were wondering, frantic, how to communicate Edelgard’s plan to Claude and the Professor, there was a sudden clamor from the treetops above.

A pegasus descended from the skies, landing on its hooves with an impact that made the ground tremble, majestic wings spread in a threatening stance.

As you fumbled for an arrow in your quiver, a lance was brandished in your direction. Adorning it was an elaborate spearhead that glowed like embers, set with a sigil you had seen before.

“In the name of his Highness, make way!” a familiar voice ordered. “Or die where you stand.”

Marianne’s eyes widened in shock, recognizing the rider before you did. “I-Ingrid?”

Flooded with disbelief, you struggled to make sense of the situation. The pegasus reared, threatening to charge. Instinctively, you shoved Marianne out of the way and darted to the side as Ingrid surged past. Nocking an arrow to your bow, you drew the string back, taking careful aim.

“Ingrid, stop! Or I’ll shoot!” You had no desire to open fire on your former schoolmate, but if she forced your hand…

Suddenly, you picked up movement from the corner of your eye, the sound of someone sprinting through the grass, charging in your direction. You whirled around and let the arrow fly towards your new assailant.

Felix uttered a noise of rage and let his blade fall early, cutting the arrow down mid-flight before it could make its mark. The split-second that followed was just enough time for you to dive towards the trees.

“Try that again and I’ll make you pay!” he snarled, angling his blade for another attack. You ducked behind a branch as he lunged. Steel struck wood instead of flesh, sending bits of bark flying.

Glancing over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of his face. Where there was once a cold smugness, there was something different in his eyes. Anger, loathing, and bitter desperation.

You left him to contend with the fallen branch as you darted back the way you came, searching for Marianne. All the while you prayed, just prayed that he would let up-

The singing of metal filled your ears as something caught your shoulder, sinking into flesh and slicing across. Of course he wouldn’t.

Reaching for your belt, you detached a throwing knife and flung it at him. Felix ducked and brought his arm up. A shield flared with crackling energy, deflecting the knife into the grass.

You let out a cry of frustration. That’s so not fair.

As you braced yourself for another strike, the one that could end you, the temperature around you suddenly plunged. Felix must have sensed it too, for he halted in his tracks. His labored breath turned to mist in the icy air.

This time it was his turn to back away as flowers of frost formed at your feet, snapping the grass underfoot. The earth buckled and burst as massive spikes of ice jutted outwards, forming a treacherous barricade before you.

By your side stood Marianne, panting with exertion, outstretched palms awash in a blue glow. Pride surged in your chest. As Felix deliberated whether to risk impaling himself upon the ice or carve another path forward, your ears picked up the shriek of a pegasus descending from somewhere above.

You stepped in front of Marianne and nocked another arrow, this time aiming upwards. This forced Ingrid to veer away sharply instead of diving at you both. Her pegasus jerked violently in mid-air, coming short of crashing into the trees. Excellent. This gave you enough time to think and-

Something burst through the icy barricade, splitting it apart as though it were a gate dashed upon a battering ram. You brought your arm up to shield your eyes from the flying shards of glass. A towering figure forced its way through the ruined barrier, armed with a lance that glowed like Ingrid’s relic, but like none you had ever seen before.

The crest that flared in mid-air before you, however, you recognized as that of Blaiddyd.

It couldn’t be, you thought, eyes wide. He should be dead.

Yet there he was in the flesh, though he reminded you more of a beast than human. Prince Dimitri of the former Kingdom of Faerghus. His massive shadow loomed as he peered down at you coldly with a single eye. The other was concealed behind a black patch.

At his side was Dedue, smashing down the remaining ice with his great-axe to clear a path for his lord. Felix emerged through the opening, as did Ingrid. All four of them moved to surround you both. Their eyes were filled with menace. But why? These were your schoolmates! Though from different classes, all of you had studied together. Trained together. Laughed and argued over meals in the dining hall. Spent the passing seasons together within the same walls. Why did they look upon you now as though you were an enemy? Scarcely a person, more an obstacle to be cut down?

“Run. Find Claude and the professor,” you ordered Marianne, shoving her away behind you before she could protest.

She tried anyway. “But-”

“GO! HURRY!” you snapped with a forcefulness that sent her running towards the Airmid, as fast as she could manage.

You pitted yourself between Marianne and the former Blue Lions, preventing them from giving chase. As they surrounded you with weapons at the ready, you immediately dropped your bow and raised both arms into the air. Your shoulder blade stung from the shallow cut Felix had inflicted earlier.

“Stand down!” you yelled, thinking fast. “We’re not Imperial soldiers! We’re part of the coalition between the Church and the Alliance! There’s no reason for us to fight!”

You felt the press of cold steel against your neck.

“Drop your knives,” Felix warned, adjusting the grip of his sword. “All of them. I won’t say it twice.”

Daintily, you reached down and plucked the knives attached to your belt one-by-one, dropping them into the grass. All the while you shot Felix a look of pure venom. Asshole.

“We’re wasting time,” Dimitri growled, brushing past without deigning to look at you. “Cut this one down and move. We take the hill.”

Your eyes went wide as you suddenly remembered.

“You can’t,” you warned, turning your head towards Dimitri as far as Felix’s blade would allow. “It’s rigged. Edelgard is going to set it on fire. You’ll never make it to the other side.”

Without meeting your eyes, Dimitri swung his lance at you, stopping short of slicing your chest open. “You claim to be no ally of the Empire, yet you are privy to Edelgard’s plans?”

He snarled her name with a baleful hatred that chilled you to the core. “Which is it?! I’ve no patience for lies!”

“I’m not lying!” you insisted, mustering courage as the spearhead pressed into your chest. “The entire hill is covered in pitch! You can check for yourself.”

You noticed Felix suddenly glancing down at his feet, the same way you had when you first discovered the ruse. Dimitri continued to stare dead ahead towards the hill, paying no heed. His lips curled into a sneer.

“It matters not. We’ll cut our way through the flames if we must. No matter how many stand in our path, Alliance or Imperial, we will crush them all the same. Edelgard will pay for her sins.”

His words left you numb with disbelief. This was Dimitri? The earnest and wholesome boy who treated everyone around him with the highest courtesy, never expecting the same in kind? Or was this the boar you heard Felix muttering about once in passing? Only now did you begin to understand what he had meant that day.

“That’s insane. Claude is not your enemy!” you insisted, too caught up in your emotions to realize that the blade against your neck was no longer there. “We should be coordinating our attacks, not fighting each other like this! Stop and think for a second!”

“Enough! You will be silent!” Dimitri roared, rearing back his lance to deliver the killing blow himself. You stared into the eyes of your would-be murderer and saw no humanity, only torment. Eyes filled with bloodthirst. A monster, depraved beyond all redemption, feasting upon pain and terror in the battlefield.

You wondered how in the world this could have happened. What made him into this thing. How could you have met your end at the hands those who could have once been your friends.

As you waited for death, Felix spoke up. “Hold it. I have a better idea.”

He shoved you viciously towards the hill, almost causing you to stumble. “Why don’t you take the lead? Might make a good shield.”

You sneered incredulously, but did not argue. How kind of Felix to convince Dimitri to spare you, only to march you into the flames. Better than instant decapitation, you supposed.

“At least let me grab my bow.”

Dimitri withdrew his lance and whirled, marching off in the western direction. He had ceased to care. Ingrid and Dedue followed obediently, the same deadpan stare in their eyes. Felix remained, his blade hovering inches above your head as you crouched down to retrieve your bow. Half your knives lay scattered upon the ground, but you dared not even look at them for fear of testing the swordsman’s generosity.

Felix spoke in a low voice, unheard by all except you. “If you see a chance, take it and run.”

You said nothing and straightened your back, bow in hand.

His blade pressed into your spine. “Start walking. Move.”

You obeyed, keeping pace with your captors. Felix urged you faster, forcing you to take point and lead the climb up the hill. You tensed, ready to meet death by artillery fire or burning pitch - whichever came first. Yet despite whatever misgivings you felt in the moment, you had the sense that Felix liked these circumstances even less than you did.

[sleepdeprivedqueer]

Dancing In The Rain

Werewolf!Ace x GN!Reader

Chapter 16

You woke up to a empty but warm bed, it smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked pumpkin pie. It made all your insides warm and comfy, shuffling over to the other side and nuzzling into the pillow. It seemed to make you feel better, it also made you fall a sleep again. You seemed to do this over and over, waking up, inhale the scent and just pass out. Nothing could help whatever you did while sleeping. Even when it came to Ace checking on you, and it really surprised the werewolf.

How you grabbed him with such sudden strength and pulled him in the bed with you, cuddling and curling up to him. Ace couldn't escape, hell he didn't want to, he's never had a animal lay on him. He's heard that it's terrible because they don't want to move, they can't, it was apparently illegal. He now knew that feeling, and he knew it would feel very illegal to move. Looking at your peaceful face, body rising and falling from breathing. He loved it, it was so fucking adorable, just the thought of moving made him feel terrible. Slowly and unsure if it was okay if he wrapped his arms around you, but he did. Holding you close as you nuzzled into his body all so innocently. It just made him really happy and stomach twisting and turning, god it made him feel all weird. But somehow, and for some reason, the fact that you were comfortable in his arms made him really happy and proud. Almost calming as well. Looking down at you sleeping body, trusting him, even after what he did. It made him happy and, made him feel loved.

He snuggled into your hair and tried to sleep himself, Ace got up at least three hours before the sun rise to hunt deer down. It wasn't that hard, only getting hit with a antlers once by one buck. He hanged them up and did the usual thing when you get deer, saving the pelt to maybe use for a coat when winter came back. Breaking the meat from the bones and cutting off any area that smelt bad or looked weird along with the fat. Just throwing it far far away, he would have to go around and out his scent out. Just in case if anybody got too cocky. Then he did another round of cleaning, taking more stuff out of the car and putting things away, trying to get things to work. The hardest thing he had to do, was ignore Isuka that was calling you. The times the phone just rang and rang while doing things, his body just itching to cave in. Eventually he just turned your phone completely off and just continued to work, he got the electric to work. Sadly there wasn't no air conditioner, the only thing that was there was the fire pit.

But from the time he stayed in the little place, the dirt and stuff kept tried to keep it warm, even during summer it was freezing which was a problem. Plus the forecast was usually always rain around the area so it would be cool in the place, even if the air was hot and humid outside. It wasn't always a good thing, but hey, fresh water. Although, he didn't know how you were going to take it that the only fresh water was from the rain to drink, the sink didn't work, but the bathtub did. It was really odd, but hey, at least you got to wash. Just thinking about it made him extra tired and thankfully made him fall asleep faster once he got into bed. Happy that you felt safe and trusted him, it made him feel very loved, it was almost scary.

When you woke up, a very muscular chest was flush against your face, titties on both sides of your head. They felt squished against you a bit, the sound of a steady heartbeat and that fresh fall like smell. A small smile made it's way up to your lips as you felt his chest rise and fall, the little snores that Ace always made. They were so adorable. Laying there for a few minutes, not moving, enjoying the warmth while it lasted because you had a feeling that the place was going to be cold. You started think about all the stories you heard about werewolves. How they're dangerous creatures without any mercy for creatures. How vile and wild they can be. The way they would howl and pray on humans during the night. Movies all about vampires vs werewolf/lycans. They were always made to be the bad guy in almost every story, but, it was so hard to believe.

Preparing yourself to get up and start out the day by maybe looking to find a store near here to buy food. Wiggling a bit in his arms made his body go stiff before relaxing and pulling you even closer. It was squishing you, barely giving you space to breath. Your ribs were being squished and your back even popped. He stunk, it made your nose scrunch up a bit as you tried to scoot back away from him. Because you couldn't scoot back so you scooted down, being careful to not trigger his arms. The thought of being hit while he was sleeping didn't sound good, because it wasn't, from the last time it happened. It was working until you just had to get your head out, and boy was that hard.

Little wheezes left you as you struggled out, it was like Ace was purposely keeping you in a headlock. But you got out, after however long, probably like a half a hour. Taking deep and heavy breaths as you sat up, looking back at Ace's sleeping face. Drool slowly come out of the corner of his mouth. Face was relaxed and squished a bit, it was cute to see him so soft like that. You softly rubbed his head, watching as his head followed your touch. Pushing some stray hair out of his face and cupping his chubby face. It wasn't hard to imagine his puffed out face and lower lip as he poured about it. How adorable, without thinking of it much, you leaned over and pecked his forehead. Not really caring for it, you were tired and just wanted to try and get things done. Standing up quietly and trying your best to tip toe out of the room. The doorknob was cold to the touch which surprised you, the room was actually warm. The floor wasn't even cold, and now that you thought about it that surprised you. But it also scared you, if the room was nice and warm, then would the rest of the house might be cold.

Turning the doorknob and opening it, you were met with the faint sound of rain that was pitting and patting against the roof. Or really the dirt above, and you were right about the rest of the house, it was freezing cold. Looking back into the room your eyes landed on one of the thick blankets that must of fell off. Tip toeing back to the bed you grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around your body. Then softly opening the door once again and walked out, closing it behind you as you looked down the hall. The bedroom was the very last door in the hallway, it was dark and cold, almost like a horror pixel game. Taking a deep breath of bravery you walked down the hall, listening as the rain seem to come down harder. There was another door on your left, but for some reason you didn't want to, you didn't trust it. Which was odd but you didn't question it too much. When you got to the end of the hallway you saw the living room. The place was way cleaner that you remembered. Did Ace clean the area up? No! No way! He seemed to lazy to do that. But you shrugged your shoulders and just continued walking around. Looking at the random little things like trinkets, random little jewelry.

Creaking the front door open to look outside, it was pretty cloudy and rain dropped from the trees and bushes. Squinting your eyes a bit you saw in the little clearing out in front of the house were five, gigantic containers taking the rain. Not only that but there were a lot of FUCKING DEER CARCASSES AROUND THE FUCKING TREES! The opened bodies were on full display, making your stomach twist and turn. Slapping your mouth over your face as you quickly closing the door. Taking deep breaths to calm your stomach and keeping anything from your stomach from coming out of your body. Opening your eyes they landed on the kitchen, your eyes widened once again at the sight of all the meat. What the hell was Ace doing while you were asleep!? There was also some plants on the other end of the counter, looked like some wild carrots, raspberries and blackberries, mint leaves, apples, and kale? It looked like kale, looking at it up close to make to be sure that it was kale. Along with the rest of the things to make sure they were what they looked like. Not anything that was going to be able to poison them.

It all looked ok, thankfully, but the meat was still another problem. Why was there so much cut off meat? You knew Ace LOVED meat but this just seemed like too much. Why would he need to hunt? Wasn't there already food here or at least some canned food? Opening the fridge you were met with a disgusting rotten and mold like smell, quickly shutting it and turning away. Blocking your nose and coughing while gagging as well. Walking away very fast and even throwing the door open to get fresh breath, fresh damp air, it was better than the fucking rotten food or whatever was in that fridge. Taking deep breaths and trying to not throw your all of your organs up.

A sudden crash coming from the woods beyond made you freeze, eyes widened as you scanned the tree lines. The trees were mostly tall cedar trees or red cedar trees. The rain hit the ground with loud thinks, large water droplets, it was getting harder to see. There was a loud yelping sound from from the thick woods, you've heard stories about urban legends that lived in the deep woods. Creatures that smelled of rotten meat, screeched loudly and could mimic voices. You never did believe them, but you never believed in werewolves either but you're staying with one. Closing the door swiftly but quietly, taking deep breaths and slowly walking back. If this was really what you think it is then you were fucked, especially with this meat. Grabbing the meat and looking around to try and see if you could hide it anywhere. The only thing you could think was the bedroom or the bathroom. But when thinking about the bathroom that feeling came back again, so you just went to the bedroom. But then a sudden screech went through the underground house.

It was followed by a long and sorrowful wail of sadness, like some kind of mother crying out for it's child. It shook you to your core, the way it cried and cried and cried like it was calling out for something it lost. But you continued to the bedroom, knowing that when you got there Ace could protect you, right? He was going to protect you, even though you have raw meat in a bowl that's in your hands. He would still protect you. You weren't sure that he fully would, Ace did still have some dog like features. His head would turn from side to when he didn't understand things, sniffing the air and then following said scent that you can't smell, those sharp fangs.

Just thinking of the fangs made every bite on your body suddenly burn and pulse. Leaning against the wall as you took deep painful breaths through your clenched teeth. There was bangs on the door. Someone, or something was definitely there, but when you actually heard the noise, every liquid nearly left your body.

It made a noise of a zombie. A zombie. A FUCKING ZOMBIE!

Every horror film with zombies ran through your head, World Z, Resident Evil, The Walking Dead, Fear The Walking Dead, Zombieland, 28 days later. Every way they moved and screeched, how rotten their bodies were. Not only that, but how they bit into people, how they tore them apart and ate them. Tears started to flow and your knees shaked, was it a fast or slow zombie!? How intelligent was it!? Did the meat attract it!?

More bangs on the door for you out of your thoughts, more painful and hungry groans/screeches came from it. Not wanting to wait any longer you stood up and charged to the bedroom. Opening the door and closing it softly to try and not alarm the rotting monster that you were in the house. But it may of been too late. Setting the bowl in the empty closet and rushing to Ace.

"Ace! Ace!" You whisper yelled as you violently shook him, "wake up wake up!"

"Mmmh, five more minutes luffy-" he went back to snoring.

"Ace! Please wake up! There's a monster, a zombie and it's trying to get in!" You got louder and started to sniff because of the snot running from your nose.

The werewolf shot up from the bed and grabbed ahold of you, a tight hug that blocked your view. All you knew was that he was moving very swiftly.

Suddenly you were shoved under the bed and blocked in with a pillow, blanket along with some kind of rock crystal thing. There was also a flashlight and a, cowboy hat?

"Stay here no matter what, and hold onto that rock or whatever until I get back. I'm going to block you in real good so it looks like there's no room underneath the bed. I'll be back," and with that he out boards all around the bed, even the head of the bed even though it was against the wall.

There was thuds and doors opening and closing, the bangs getting louder and more violent. It made your stomach turn and nearly made you sick. All those zombie movies, what if Ace couldn't beat it? What if he turned into a zombie himself!? A zombie werewolf!? No, don't think of that, you needed to calm down. Taking deep and soft breaths through your nose and out your mouth. Calming your body along with your heart beat while looking around, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. There wasn't much room so it would be hard to stay comfortable. But you tried, fluffing the pillow up quietly and curl up under the thick blanket. Despite being shut in, it wasn't hot or sweaty, just really fucking cold.

But what was odd was that the hat he gave you was warm, like, his body temperature warm. Did he give it to you for that reason or to help keep you calm? Or maybe it would help heat the room up a bit? You weren't sure. But, it was something you've never seen before. Like, how the hell did he keep this hidden from you, along with that damn weird jolly roger tattoo on his back! Ugh, you would ask him about that later-

"Luffy! Stop biting him he's a damn zombie! You're going to get infected yourself, hell I don't even know if you can be infected!"

That was Ace's voice yelling at, a person named, Luffy? Wait, didn't Ace say something about a person named Luffy when you were waking him up?

"Luffy! Wait, hold on! You can't go in there!" Ace yelled closer this time, way closer. Two pairs of heavy stomping footsteps came closer.

"But I smell meat!"

It sounded like a man, maybe a young adult? The bedroom door suddenly burst open as two bodies stumbled in.

"What! Luffy stop! Sabo help me dammit he always liked you better!" Ace yelled at another person.

"What, both of us know we can't stop Luffy from eating meat. Even if it's raw, you used to eat raw meat when we were little, remember that?" Another male said.

"Yes I know I used to, but I was a stupid child! I was teething and hungry and every animal near by smelt good and it made me extra hungry. My senses were kicking in then! It's not my fault!" Ace whined like a child.

It made you giggle, but you quickly learned that you shouldn't have done that.

"Ace, who's here?" The male that was talking before asked in a serious tone. You were screwed.

"No one, it must of been a mouse, or a rat! I haven't been here in the really long time-"

Just then, one of the boards were pulled out and a hand grabbed your shirt. Pulling you out from under the bed, the face you were met with was that of a teenager. Large eyes and a scar underneath his left eye, black shaggy hair, a big large piece of bloody raw meat hanging from his mouth. You screamed, grabbing the board and with all your might you hit him with it. Even when he was down you continued to hit him.

"Hey! Wai-"

"Gah! Luffy! Ace do something!"

"What do you want me to do!?"

A gloved hand grabbed your wrist, turning your attention from the boy to a blonde big eyed older looking boy. Around Ace's age, a large scar over his left part of his face. You screamed again and this time started hitting the blonde with the plank.

You didn't know how long you did that until large warm hands grabbed you and pulled you away. You were kicking and shouting, swinging the plank around till hitting someone.

"Ow! Y/N calm down!" Ace said, suddenly grabbing and plank and throwing it.

"No! Why should I!? They came and grabbed me while you just stood there! You grabbed me really roughly and scared me, especially when they have large eyes!" You cried, eyes closed tightly because you were afraid of seeing them.

"Oooww, Ace, why'd you have them under the bed? That's not a very comfortable place to put someone," the young adult teenager boy said.

"Yeah, why the hell were they under there! We're you keeping them hostage! There's no way you have a lover, absolutely not! You must of been keeping them hostage!"

"What! No they're not my lover!" Ace argued back.

"Then why are you trying to hide them!? Are you afraid that we'll embarrass you infront of them!? I feel offended!" The blonde said with a huff.

"Yeah, it's just like that time you hid all those meat plushies in your closet when we came to visit you."

You stopped your tantrum of fear and opened your eyes to look at Ace. His tan freckled face had a bright hue of red across if it.

"You had meat plushies?"

"No! They're lying! I'm a big grown strong man, psh! Plushies are overrated!" Ace said trying to act cool.

"Yes he does, he has tons of them and likes to cuddle with them all. Some of them smell like actual cooked meat so sometimes he wakes up with stuffing in his mouth because he tried to eat some in his sleep!" The young black haired male laughed. Which made you laugh as well, really loudly.

"What! No I don't, I would never! I have a role to uphold!" Ace argued back and was know the one throwing the tantrum.

"Awh, how adorable, do you want some kind of burger plushie or maybe a fried chicken plushie~" you baby talked to him, scratching under the poor werewolf's chin.

"I don't need any plushies!"

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Tags

@catgirlwannabe @whatamidoing89

[loveandmurders]

Hello, my dear Author. As much i'm in love with baby sister AU, but what about child AU? It's fine, if you don't like it or aren't interested. Please, forgive me for bothering you.

When Lester throws the last deer into the pit, he hears some kind of scream. The sound of crying from this very pit? Nah, he's probably overheated. But Lester's kind heart does not give rest Lester's tired legs. He climbs into the burial ground to look for the source of the sound. Throwing away a couple of small animals, the man finds a squeaking and crying bundle. He cuts open the bag and, Holy God, it's a baby... They are, God grant, a couple of weeks old..? Nope, no, no. He can't. He is not ready for such a responsibility, no, nope. But he, he brings the baby to his brothers. Bo is angry, Vincent doesn't understand. Lester just couldn't. Neither to kill the poor thing, nor to leave. Judging by the bruises on the back and on the back of the legs, the girl was simply thrown out. And now, they are not the Sinclair brothers, now they are papa Bo, papa Vincent and papa Lester. Of course, Bo is wildly infuriating to explain to tourists, that they are brothers, and not what you thought yourself there! Yes, brothers can raise one daughter, do you have any problems? And all the brothers, who speak and contact tourists are terribly infuriated to explain, that this beautiful, young woman calls them "daddy" because they are her fathers! There are only perverts around, my God... And who could have thought, that the history of their Y/n, would play into their hands so much. Most often, people are very sorry, which causes additional confidence in Ambrose. It is very bad to use child as a bait, but it is so effective and convenient. But still, papas prefer, that their angel does not come into contact with future sculptures. They will never let anything bad happen to you.

Hi, I really loved that idea a lot! Thank you for sending this request, it was so fun to write for <3

Tumblr doesn't let me post it as an answer (got carried away so it's too long), so it will very soon be posted on a separated post! Hope you'll enjoy this <3

[westmoor]

of men and horses

It’s a common misconception that Jaskier favours the winter season. 

He likes it well enough, truth be told, and he’ll hardly complain about generosity shown by the esteemed and wealthy that request his presence (and puts him up quite handsomely) at courts and castles to add a dash of colour to otherwise dreary months.

But the life he chose for himself is one of travel and adventure, and as much as he revels in all the intricacies and intrigue of life among nobility, it holds little in competition with life alongside a Witcher.

As such, the first week is always the most enjoyable. Sinking into a cushioned chair in heated chambers after every night after a rich supper, letting the chafes and scrapes of the road fade from his skin and the weariness to seep from his bones. 

An audience of fresh faces, and the ability to take the sidelines and enjoy the layers of courtly drama that didn’t directly involve him (yet.)

New connections to make, old ones to catch up with.

The first weeks are always the nicest.

After that, the restlessness sets in.

His legs, not used to settling, have soon wandered down every hall. No corner of the courtyard left uncircled. The woods, if the estate has any, seems disappointingly void of fearsome beasts.

Most places have stories that he occupies himself with uncovering, some many layers deep, that turn into a song or a story of its own.

This year he’s hardly so lucky.

The lord is an old acquaintance, friendly but drab, and he understands fully why his presence in their midst was desired. The bard seems to be the most interesting thing to pass their land in the past five years or so. These people, Jaskier thinks, have altogether far too few worries.

The first week has barely waned by the time he tires of the confines of the upper class and extends his periphery to the stables and kennel.

He’s come to feel at home near a stable, he finds, though riding was never his sport. A stable is a stable no matter it’s location on the continent, the smells and sounds blending into each other from one to the next.

And then there are the people. Quiet or chatty, but earnest and hard-working more often than not. There is something about the gentle tones and steady hands of men who handle horses that makes to soothe the ache that settles in a Witcher’s bard’s heart in the first weeks of winter.

His hosts keep a good stable, as he had expected, knowing their hobby of not just hunting but breeding and training horses fit for the task. As a result, the yard is teeming with life even when the ground freezes under sheets of white. Seasoned mounts taken out for exercise, greener ones finding their footing, yearlings being taught foundations from the ground.

Jaskier takes to watching them work, in between trading stories and songs and conversations. He is at his core an aesthete, and can appreciate the visage of a fine specimen atop a fine mount even if it’s not within his particular field of study.

He ends up not just watching the riders, however.

There’s a mare. A young deep red bay bought from a trader all the way down in Cintra that autumn. The head groom had sung her praises at first, practically waxing poetic about balanced structure and the ease of her gait, but as time wore on his tone had soured somewhat. 

She is, as one of the stableboys put it, a hellion.

Jaskier adores her.

It has become a habit of his over the past handful of days, wandering down to the paddocks after breakfast to watch an otherwise capable horseman fail to mold her into something more agreeable.

There is little progress to be had, and the workers have already started lamenting the likelihood of her being sold on in spring, too headstrong and too temperamental to suit his Lordship’s preferences.

Jaskier can’t help it. 

Watching her huff at pressure and wheedle her way out of tension, and occasionally deer-hop her way over fences and leaving her rider in the muck, tugs on something rather close to the spot in his heart warmed by the sight of broad-handed grooms humming softly to their favourites. 

He has even succeeded in bribing his way into her good graces, armed with apples and candied sugar, a feat he’s rather proud of.

The downside to this routine is that he spends such excessive time thinking about Geralt, in addition to the time he would normally spend thinking about Geralt, that when he rushes down from the main hall one frosty morning and sees a black-clad fellow in the yard, he very nearly goes right past.

It had snowed in the night, morning cold freezing it to dust over branches and parapets, now drifting down as powder with the gentle breeze. Fogged breath drifts along a stubbled cheek, crystallizing in silvery locks.

The moment between Jaskier’s heart skipping a beat and his mind catching up to reality nearly has him going face-first down the stone steps.

“Geralt!” he exclaims, confusion warring with disbelief but both losing out to joy.

The way the Witcher’s eyes light up at the sight of the bard is enough to drive him closer, stopping just short of throwing his arms around leather-clad shoulders and drawing the larger man in for a hug. 

The relief washing across Geralt’s face at the friendly reception provides all the warmth he needs, however. As unexpected as his arrival is, it pains him to know that Geralt might think his presence unwanted and it costs him nothing to prove those ideas false.

“What a surprise! I must admit I didn’t expect you so soon, though I’m glad to see you still hale after four entire weeks without me.” 

There is a genuine question in that statement, but he has a handful of theories relating to the answer, gleaned from his friend’s disposition and the apparent lack of hurry.

“Roach twisted a fetlock just past Hagge,” he says, and something heavy settles in the pit of Jaskier’s stomach. “Couldn’t make it to the mountains before the storms set in.”

“Oh.” Rifling through his admittedly limited knowledge of animal medicine yields little, but he knows the speed at which Geralt travels, and combined with the tension in his jaw - Roach is hardly a yearling. She has been a Witcher’s companion longer than him. “I’m sorry. Is she..?”

“I left her with a farmer. The one with the werewolf problem.”

Jaskier nods, he remembers it well. A good man, he’d paid handsomely with what he had. His son had been a journeyman at the time, though by now he should be a trained blacksmith in his own right.

There are worse lots for a horse to draw, he supposes. Besides, he wonders how many of Geralt’s noble steeds had earned a retirement. 

“I suppose I’ll have to visit next time I pass that way,” he says, at the lack of better comfort. The lines at the corners of Geralt’s eyes soften a fraction, and he knows it’s right. 

A thought stirs at the back of his mind, like opening a door, just a crack.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Geralt doesn’t look too torn. Resigned, if anything.

Sometimes, Jaskier figures, one just has to try.

“Well,” he says, suddenly decisive, and this time he does step up and clasp a hand over Geralt’s broad arm. “If you’re not too tired - your baggage can wait, I’m sure - and if you don’t mind indulging me, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

[faceachefics]

Tantrum

1st Day of Kinkmas -- Orgasm Denial

Pair: Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Summary: Brahms has been bothering you all day. You decide to punish him for it, but it does not bode well for you.

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: Smut, bondage, dubcon

   Brahms had been in a mood all day. He was a stage five clinger and felt the need to pester you all day. He hardly gave you a moment of peace, demanding your undivided attention. It got irritating real damn quick. You had enough of his inability to take “no” for an answer. You had been scheming a plan to get back at the burly brat, and now was your time to act.

   “Brahms,” You began. There was no need to call for him because he was already right behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. “Care to join me in the bedroom?” Your tone was sultry despite your frustration. He was like a ball and chain while you were trying to do the dishes.

   “Yes, please!” He instantly lifted his head off your shoulder and pulled you toward the bedroom. He was eager to have alone time with you, as if it were an uncommon occurrence. You paced past Brahms and guided him to the same destination. He was offput by you taking control. After all, you were practically his servant considering the numerous chores you had to do by yourself. Though he was never far behind you, he wouldn’t dare do such much as pick up after himself.

   You had one of his doll’s ties. It was already in a loose handcuff knot, and you were waiting for the perfect moment to restrain his wrists. Once you were in the room, you patted the comforter, urging him to take a seat. He hesitantly sat down on the spot as you rummaged through the nightstand drawer. You pulled out the tie, and watched as he tensed up. Brahms wasn’t exactly liking where this was going.

   “I wanna try something with you,” You couldn’t help but grin at the thought. It was silent for a brief moment. He looked down at the floor, questioning whether he should allow you to have power over him. He could easily tear through the seams if things turned sour, so it wouldn’t be that much of a problem, right? If he wanted to stop at any point he could make it happen, whether you obliged or not. He look at you and gave you a reluctant nod.

   A low growl could be heard through his mask as you eagerly slipped his hands through. This was somewhat humiliating. Brahms always had control over the situation, and he always got what we wanted. He began to have second thoughts before the “fun” even began. He squirmed against the restraint.

   “Don’t worry,” You hushed in order to soothe his growing anger. “I’m going to make you feel really good. You just have to be good for me in turn, okay?” You knew you were playing with fire here. Brahms was significantly stronger than you have him credit for. He could rip the tie with no issue if he wanted to. You knew you only had control this time because he was allowing it.

   The sweaty brute slowly nodded. He watched you, waiting for you to make your next move. You started with kissing his mask where his lips would be. He hesitated before leaning into the kiss. He couldn’t actually feel it, but it wasn’t like he was going to take off his mask to do that. Not even for you.

   Your hands slid from his hips up to his shoulders. They traveled down his arms to his wrists. You tugged on the tie while you straddled his lap. Brahms let out a rumbly breath as your hips rolled over his. He hated how tight the restraint was, but he loved your touch even more.

   You went from his “lips”, to his neck, to his collar. Hands scoured his torso and made their way down to his hips. They bucked under your weight, anticipating what was to come. You pulled away to watch his reaction as you traced your fingers over his crotch. The bulge in his crotch was growing, and the lack of friction was unbearable. He shifted around impatiently.

   “Y/N,” Brahms said in a warning tone. “What are you doing?” It was an indirect way of saying ‘You better get on with it before I tear this damn thing apart, along with you.’ There was so much need welling up inside him, and he wanted every last drop of it inside you.

   “I’m taking my time with my sweet boy,” You responded. The trick was to reward him with pleasure, but punish him with the anticipation of it all. Brahms was not a patient man. If you kept going like this, it would be over before you could get to the main event.

   “Please, Y/N,” Brahms whined. “I need you.” He was trying to mask his agitation, giving you a chance to cave before he made you. He had been good for you, so he expected you to be good for him too.

   You stood up and stripped yourself of your clothes. Knowing Brahms, you could not afford to take your time with it. Once you were undressed, you sank down to your knees and unbuttoned his slacks. You freed his aching cock from his briefs and took it into your mouth without a second thought. This sudden sensation of heat and wetness was overwhelming, yet satisfying. He knew you’d come around!

    Bobbing your head up and down his length, you dipped your hand down to your groin. You pleasured yourself as you sucked. Brahms found it hard to contain himself, throwing his head back and thrusting upward to reach the back of your throat. He gained more satisfaction from you gagging on his dick.

    Brahms was close, and you could tell by the fast, shallow thrust of his hips. You tried to hold them in place, but they were damn near uncontrollable. Small chants of your name escaped the mask as he came to the brink of orgasm.

    You pulled your head away at last second, a thread of saliva connecting your tongue and his throbbing cock. Ignoring his combined whines and groans, you pushed him over and straddled his hips. You teased your entrance with the head.

    “Ready, Brahms?”

    “Y-yes! Yes, please!”

    He was like putty in your hands at this point. He wanted to cum so bad. You ruined that once, but he could stand to be patient for his sake. The one thing better than cumming while throat-fucking you was doing so while you were riding him.

    You slowly lowered your hips, pushing him inside yourself. Every couple inches, you would pause to adjust to his size. Brahms had to stop himself from moving his hips up. You felt so fucking good, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Not yet at least.

    You let out a low moan as he filled you completely. He grunted and squirmed. It was frustrating that you wouldn’t allow him to feel you up. He couldn’t grip your hips and leave bruise on your tender skin. You felt absolutely perfect as you were, but he wanted more. Knowing he couldn’t touch you made him want to be even rougher with you, to feel his hand around your throat, to see tears roll down your red face while he fucked you senseless.

    The rise and fall of your hips made him groan. You found it amusing how the beast tried to follow your movement with his hips, desperate to release already. It got to a point where you were both meeting midway, with faster and shallower thrusts.

    “Y/N, I’m going to-“

    You pulled him out before he could finish. That was when Brahms realized this was about more than wanting to tie him up. You wanted to torment him, to punish him. Brahms always got his way, and there was no way in hell that was going to change. Fueled with sexual frustration and anger, he struggled through the cuffs.

    Anxiety brewed at the pit of your stomach when you heard the tearing of fabric. You were fucked (metaphorically and literally). Before you could fully process the situation, you were rolled onto your back and Brahms was on top of you, sweating and huffing like a madman. One hand was travelling up and down your body, enjoying it for the first time in about an hour, and the other on his leaking cock, ready to put it back where it belonged. You whimpered under his hungry touch, looking up at him like a deer in headlights.

    “My turn.”

    He growled as he steadily pushed himself inside you. Now a hand was gripping your hip while the other occupied your crotch. He took much joy in watching your eyes roll at the sensation. It didn’t take long for him to speed up. His grunts turned into snarls as he thrusted into you harder.

    “Br-Brahms, I-“ Your whine was interrupted by a hand on your neck. It was the same hand that was pleasuring you. Brahms was the one cumming this time. You, however, had a long way to go before he would even consider letting you do the same. He made one more deep thrust before releasing, letting out an animalistic growl.

    He slowly pulled out and let his cum leak out of you. He knew you would have to clean it up for him later. The thought made him grin behind his mask. Tears formed in your eyes due to the jarring lack of movement and fullness. Brahms hushed you as he leaned over and pinned you by your biceps. His face was inches away from yours.

    “Don’t worry. I’m going to make you feel really good. You just have to be good for me.”

[bill-y]

INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it,"  a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look.  It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?" 

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a  chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die. 

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both," 

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand. 

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs. 

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . . 

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times. 

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed."  I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.  

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12. 

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

Tags:

@nin3s

[hard-to-be-the-bard]

12 Days of Lester: Part 1

“

It is here

Lester Sinclair x Reader

Prologue:

You’d arrived in town with some friends, though friends was a light term, it was more so that you’d been dragged along, on this stupid road trip, as well as being made to pay for most of the trips expensive.

And now you were camping in some field, on the outskirts of a town that wasn’t even on a map

You were tired, just wanting to fall asleep, but you couldn’t, and you turned over on the blanket, sighing as you looked at the tent roof.

At some point you must of fallen asleep, because when you opened your eyes again, it was daylight.

And everyone else was awake, and you heard someone cry out from afar.

You stumbled out of your tent, to see two of your friends head towards the woods, and you frowned, following after them as you pulled on your shoes.

You reached the edge of the hill, where one of your friends had fallen to the bottom, half stuck in what smelt and from what you could see, a pile of animal carcasses.

Your eyes stung at the smell, as the wind blew it in your direction, and you carefully made your way to the bottom, almost tripping and falling as well.

Your friend was gagging, almost screaming as she desperately tried to wipe her hands that were now covered in a fine layer of grime, and congealed blood. 

Then you saw a truck pull up, and you paused, watching as a man stepped out, heading towards the back of the truck, where another deer lay. Dead.

You presumed this was the man who’d started off this, somewhat impressive, amount of carcasses.

He dragged it to the pit, and threw it down., and your friend decided to speak

“Hey! Don’t you see that? What is that?” They shouted to him, pointing towards a hand sticking out of the middle of the carcass pile. And you almost paused, as the man looks, at all of you, before making his way to the hand

“No way..” Your friend muttered, a look of disgust on her face

“Hey what are you doing man?” Another one asked, an equally disgusted look on his face.

But the man ignored them, reaching forward and gripping the hand in his own, tugging sharply, and it broke loose, and he almost stumbled back, before he lifted it up, waving it at you

“Anyone need a hand?” He asks, and the others say nothing, as you couldn’t help but smile at the joke.

“I’m just foolin’, it ain’t real, see?” He says, and continues to hold it.

“Found it on the side of the road a few weeks ago” But your friends are ignoring him now, turning to the one that fell, and you seem to have been the only one that heard him

“Oh my god are you okay?” They ask the girl that has fallen, and she nods, wiping her hands again. When the man speaks up once more.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asks, and you point behind you answering.

“We were all camping up through those trees” You say and he nods, before one of the guys speak

“Hey, is there a gas station around here?” He asks, and the man looks hesitant.

“Well, I got some gas in the truck if ya need it-” He says, and your friend shakes his head

“I need a fan belt” He informs, and your friends turn to look at him confused, and he tells them it just busted, and the man looks thoughtful

“Bo might have some, runs a station in Ambrose” He says finally

“Where’s that?” Your friend asks again, and the man points

“About 15 miles up the road”

Your friends talk to each other for a moment, arguing about whether they should keep moving and pick one up in the next town, or leave the car. 

You stay out of the conversation, before turning you head when the man talks

“I’ll give you a ride” He offers, and your friend pauses

“You serious?” He asks, and the man nods

“If you like, yeah”

Your friends look between each other, and back at the man, one of them grimaces and you almost frown, knowing none of them really want to go with the man who carries dead animals around, so you sigh

“I’ll go” You offer, and they look at you, almost surprised, and you turn to the man who’s watching you.

One of your friends nudges the other

“You really just gonna let them leave like that? With a man who throws roadkill into a pit for a living?” She asks, and your friend sighs, shrugging his shoulders.

“Fine whatever, I’ll go too” He says, and you head across the carcass pit carefully, making sure you don’t fall, and when you get to the other side you smile at the man

“Thanks for giving us a ride” You say, and he smiles at you, looking you up and down once

“Ain’t no problem”

And so you’re sitting in the truck, next to the man, who’s introduced himself as Lester, and your friend on the other side of you, who’s attempting to role down his window, and Lester looks over at him.

“Sorry about that, trucks seen better days” He says, and your friend frowns, almost rolling his eyes

“Right, yeah, well do you mind rolling down your window?” He asks, and Lester pauses before nodding, still driving

“Not at all, I kinda get used to the smell” He adds, and your friend frowns again

“Really I don’t think I could ever get used to it” He says, and you sigh, knowing he was blatantly being rude, and you speak up

“You can get used to anything if you’re around it long enough” You say, and Lester looks at you, smiling slightly

“Yea that’s true” He says, before speaking again

“If you get ‘em in the morning, before the sun bakes ‘em up, they’re not so bad, if they’re fresh I take ‘em home though, no point in wasting the meat” He says, and you nod, and your friend rolls his eyes this time

“Are we almost there?” He asks, cutting into the conversation

“It’s just up the road, Ambrose used to be a pretty nice town before the interstate came in” He explains, moving his arm so it rests on the back of the seat, just behind your head, and your friends gaze moves to his belt where he sees the knife, and he nudges you, and you turn to look, and Lester notices

“Ya like knives?” He asks, and your friend shakes his head

“No not really” He says

“Tools of the trade, you wanna see it?” He asks, reaching his hand down, keeping one on the wheel.

“No we’re good” He continues, almost shifting towards the door slightly.

But he pulls it out anything, displaying it, and you say nothing, watching the way it glints in the sun. You know he’s harmless, but your friend doesn’t seem to think that

“It’s a bowie, it’s a good knife, will cut through anything” He says, before slamming it into the dash, and you swear you feel your friend jump, as it pierces the dash.

A minute later and he’s pressing on the brakes, looking out at the water in front, and your friend sits up

“What’s going on, I thought you said there was a town up here” He accuses, and Lester looks at him.

“Well yeah, there is, just around that bend, I gotta flip my hubs into four wheel, you mind giving me a hand?” He asks, and you nod, about to slide out of the car with him, giving him a smile, which he returns, but your friend grabs your arm, a little too tight, and Lester notices you wince slightly.

“When’s the last time you were here?” He asks, and Lester smiles awkwardly,

“What you don’t believe me? I just forget this way’s washed out is all” He says, and you turn to him about to apologise for your friend when he speaks

“We’ll walk the rest of the way, you’ve done enough” He says, and Lester almost looks hurt

“Now, why would you want to do that?” He asks, chuckling.

“Look we wanna walk okay, just let us out” Your friend almost demands, and you shake your head at him.

Lester grits his teeth, and he casts you a glance, and then one at your friends hand which is still gripped around your wrist

“Sure” He says, grabbing the knife from the dash and heading around to your friends side, and you curse at him before tugging your hand away.

The door opens, and the knife is back in its sheath, and Lester looks away

“Try and do something nice for someone” He says, and your friend shakes his head

“Look man it’s not like that, we appreciate it” He says, and Lester scoffs, and you feel terrible

“Yeah I can really tell” He says, and your friend gets out, and you follow, almost hesitating.

Your friend is already crossing the water, not caring if you’re trailing behind, and you turn to Lester

“I’m really sorry about him I-” He cuts you off

“Ain’t yer fault, don’t worry about it” He says, giving you a smile, as he watches your friend head towards the town

He won’t feel bad about what happens to him, what he knows Bo will do.

But you.

You were nice to him, offering an apology which he knew you meant, not many people had been nice to him before

He knew he was going to be thinking about you for a while.

You turn to follow your friend, who’s now further up the path, and he wants to stop you, grab your arm and tell you not to follow your friend

But he doesn’t

He let’s you walk away from him, and he watches as you turn back to smile and wave at him.

He doesn’t have the heart to return it

You managed to catch up with your friend, and you both found the garage quickly enough, your friend not bothering to knock and just walking straight in as you paused by the door, and then you see a man come out, talking to your friend, and you see him glance towards you, and your friend turns, beckoning you inside with the shake of his head.

You enter, the door closing behind you

“What size fan belt did they need, I can’t remember” Your friend asks, and you speak

“16 inch” You say, and your friend nods

“Yeah, that” He says, and the man smiles at you, introducing himself

“Bo, I run the garage” He says, and you smile, telling him your name, and you hear your friend mutter something under his breath

You didn’t hear what, but from the look on Bo’s face he did, and he frowned, a brow raising as he glanced at you friend, before back at you

“Well I got some of those back at the house, if you don’t mind following me” He says, and you nod, but your friend looks sceptical

“You keep fan belts at your house?” He says, and you sigh again, it was as if he had to be rude to everyone he meets

Bo turns to him, nodding

“Yeah, I get things delivered there when I’m not home” He says, and you nod, shooting a look at your friend.

So you follow him, listening to Bo as he explains about Trudy and her sons, and you have a feeling that when he said they didn’t live here anymore he was lying, he seemed to know too much about it, and spoke about it so nonchalantly.

When you finally reach the house, he opened the truck door out front

“Hey why don’t you two hop in, I’ll go get the fan belt, and then I’ll drive you back to your car” He smiles

“No actually, we have a friend picking us up where the road’s washed out” Your friend says, and you frown, not remembering that, but figured he must of called them at some point

“I’ll give you a lift there then, least I could do” He says, and you smile at him, thanking him, and your friend asks him if he could use the bathroom.

Bo turns to look at him, before nodding

“Yeah sure” He turns to you and asks if you need to use it, but you shake your head, and you hear your friend mutter something again, but once again not catching it.

And again, from the look on Bo’s face he has, and you can tell it was something insulting, from the expression on his face, but he smiles at you, closing the car door, and heading to the house with your friend.

You sit in the car for a while, and wonder where they are, neither Bo or your friend leaving the house.

And then Bo walks out the door,  and you smile at him, looking behind him for your friend

“I got the fan belt, you guys ain’t in a hurry are ya? Because I wanted to load the truck up with some stuff first” He says, and you nod, smiling, telling him it was fine, before looking back at the house, asking him if he’d seen your friend

“I guess he’s still in the bathroom?” He shrugs, placing some stuff in the trunk, and you nod as he gets in the driver’s side, as you both wait for your friend

But Bo knows he’s not coming out, and as he watches you from the corner of his eye as you wait for your friend, he thinks about what he’d heard him say earlier.

It was clear you weren’t good friends, probably forced along on whatever trip you were on, and he sighed softly.

He didn’t normally think twice about killing people. But you reminded him of Lester so much.

And he’d already received a phone call from his younger brother, telling him of your arrival, and the way he’d almost faltered over the phone as he mentioned you, telling him to make it quick.

You’d been nice to his brother, and now he was feeling bad. Bo knew not a lot of people were nice to his brother, and even if they weren’t as close as him or Vincent, he still care about him.

He sighed once more, watching you, before making his decision.

And his hands were around your mouth and nose, not even giving you time to react as he knocked you unconscious.

---

That was two months ago, and they’d decided to let you live. But they couldn’t let you leave.

And so you lived with Lester, in his small house at the edge of Ambrose.

And you were happy for most of it, there were days when you missed your home before, but Lester always gave you space when he knew you were feeling down, or trying to cheer you up, with jokes or hot drinks

The man had fallen for you hard, and now it was mid December, and he still hadn’t told you how he felt.

He knew one day he’d have too, the feelings he felt for you only growing each day

But he’d worked out a plan.

He was going to kiss you, every day, until Christmas day, where he’d hopefully have worked up the courage to kiss you properly.

And today was the first day, 12 days until Christmas and he took in a deep breath, as he handed you your coffee.

It was early morning, and you’d woken up a half hour before, smiling at Lester, thanking him as he handed you the mug.

“No worries” He smiled, and you could tell he was nervous, but what for you didn’t know.

You smiled at him, sitting down, taking a sip of the coffee, and Lester spoke

“Got many plans for today?” He asked, and you shrugged

“Well, I was wondering, would- would you mind if we got a Christmas tree?” You ask, and his head perked up

“A Christmas tree? Like a real one?” He asked, and you nodded, he thought about it for a moment

“Well, I don’t see why not” He grinned, and you smiled.

And so the rest of the day was planned, you and Lester walking through a field a few miles away, that luckily happened to contain some smaller pine trees.

You’d grinned when you’d found the right one, and Lester smiled back.

And when it was up in the house it fit perfectly.

You turned to him smiling

“We just gotta decorate it now, but we can do that tomorrow” You tell him and he nods

“Well, I think it looks great” He says, and stands by your side.

You grin again and surprisingly pull him in to a hug, thanking him

He pauses, his hands wrapping around your waist in return leaning his chin on your head

“Ain’t no problem at all, don’t need to be thankin’ me” He says, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and he waits for you reaction.

But you don’t pull away, or grimace in confusion.

You wrap your arms around him tighter, smiling into his chest.

You knew this Christmas was going to be great.

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 8

A/N: OKAY YOU GUYS.... NEW CHARACTER ALERT..... 

INTRODUCING: Charlie Hunnam - he fit the idea for this character perfectly so I decided to use his face and name for this new character x

Also lotsss of jealous Michael !!!!!!!!! I loved writing this chapter, it was so entertaining to bring in a new character and throw a spanner in the works. I hope you enjoy it xxx

“We’re going to a benefit event this weekend, for networking. They haven’t seen us show our faces for a long time, and I think it’s about time we do”

That’s what Tommy had announced yesterday at the meeting. Gina had clapped excitedly, exclaiming to Michael how she’d never been to an English ball before.

I, however, could not have been less enthusiastic. Up until now I have not had to deal much with Gina and Michael as a pair. Michael alone is already way to much for me to handle emotionally. Moments I’m around him are spent with a racing mind and heart as I try and figure out what he is thinking. And even in moments where we’re not around each other, my every thought is consumed by him. It has been two days since Michael and I shared that moment in the office, and I’m still recovering. I can still physically feel the pit in my stomach, and the way my stomach dropped when I saw the tears on Michael’s face. I replay it on a continuous loop. And the last thing he said to me has had me completely torn up in an internal battle. He had said he wanted this. And I can’t stop obsessing over whether the use of past tense means that this is not what Michael wants anymore. That he wanted Gina. He wanted to marry her. He wanted me to keep away from him. But maybe he isn’t so sure anymore?

But hey, it’s not like I’m ever going to ask him what the hell he is thinking. What he is doing. What happened. Does he regret it? I could never ask him. Because maybe Michael will never wake up to himself. And there is no way in hell I’m letting my heart get broken twice.  As for Michael, he has barely even looked at me since. Talk about whose avoiding who now. Michael is pretty much doing my job for me. Dipping out of every room quickly when I walk in. Looking at the floor or practically anywhere but at me when we have to be around each other.

Right now I’m stood here trying on 6 different dresses to wear to the races today, growing even more frustrated at how none of them are just right.

I haven’t dressed up in a long time. I was even slightly excited at the idea. But now I just feel defeated. I used to love putting on my best dress and watching Michael melt. The look on his face when he would see me. The way he would whisper to me, letting me know I wouldn’t have the dress on for much longer once we got home.

But no one is looking now.

Sighing, I settle on a floor length, yellow gown. I haven’t worn it yet. I slip into it, feeling out of place and worthless. Funny how everything looked better when it was under Michael’s gaze.

Now I’m just a girl in a yellow dress.

I rush through the rest of my makeup and hair, hurrying out of my apartment just in time for the car that the Shelby’s organised for me. The whole car ride I clutch my purse nervously. I can only imagine Gina will look stunning. And I will have to watch Michael look at her the way he used to look at me. As I see the event grow closer in the horizon, I want to hijack the vehicle and go home. Desperately. But at least Polly, Tommy and Arthur will be there. I can’t let them down. This is important for my job. I need to make moves and network with people.

That’s all I have to do. Just keep my head down and do my job.

I feel completely out of my body as I slide out of the car, expecting my legs to give way underneath me. I head up the steps to the entrance where they will ask for my name and who I’m with. Normally I would show up with Michael and no questions would be asked. We would get a respectful nod from the doorman and be let in without questions asked. I almost wish that I might just fall down the steps and straight into a black hole where I don’t have to go ahead with this. But now it’s too late. I’m greeted at the door by tall men who could do a lot of damage and a woman with a clipboard.

“Isabelle. I’m on the Shelby Limited table” I say abruptly, completely ignoring her warm welcome. I don’t mean to, but my mind is completely in a foggy haze. As she runs her finger down the paper to check I’m on list, I search the room full of people behind the security guards. No signs of Michael or Gina. Yet.

“Not a problem, go ahead ma’am” she nods as the security guards separate for me to walk through. I stare at the busy room ahead like a deer in headlights, composing myself before I set foot inside. Wearing my best fake smile I begin weaving my way through the crowd. I search desperately for the Shelby’s in every face I see with no luck. Knowing my fortune, I’ll probably run straight into Michael and Gina.

But maybe tonight the lucky stars are on my side. As I reach the top of the stair well that will lead into the heart of the party, I scan the room once more. This time, my eyes land on Tommy, Polly and Arthur. With a sigh of relief, I practically fly down the stairs. Not even caring if I trip and fall. I just need to get to my people. Where I feel safe. Tommy spots me, and soon after Polly and Arthur do too.

As I finally reach them I pull her into my arms for a much needed hug. I’m already on edge and I’ve only just arrived. Tonight is going to be fun… When we let go, she holds me out in front of her, looking me up and down.

“Good god girl” she exclaims, shaking her head.

“Do I look okay?”

“Are you fucking joking, you look stunning”

Her compliment steady’s my nerves a little, and before I know it Tommy is reaching out to me. I take his hand and he pulls me in, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“You look beautiful Izzy” he coos, his eyes are warm and genuine “And don’t forget to breathe, eh” He chuckles as he notices my energy. I’m nervous wreck and just about anyone could tell. Right now I feel like a slight breeze could knock me off my feet.

I exhale slowly, nodding at him. No one calms me like Tommy can. He is always so strong. Calm. Steady. Sure of himself. And that rubs of on me every time.

He gives me a quick reassuring wink like he always does, as Arthur butts into the conversation.

“Fucking hell eh,” his rough voice booms as pulls me in for a hug like Arthur always does “Wait till Michael gets a load of this-“

Polly swats at him immediately, hitting his arm with her hang bag.

“Well we won’t have to wait long for that now will we-“ Tommy retorts in a hushed voice as his eyes lock on someone in the distance.

Simultaneously, we all look over our shoulders to see Michael and Gina headed our way. A giant pit begins to hollow out in my stomach immediately at the sight of them. They haven’t noticed us yet as they walk with their arms linked, laughing and talking with each other.

Almost as if it was perfect timing, a waiter greets us, offering glasses of wine. Without thinking I reaching for one, throwing it back faster than I probably should. I can feel Polly’s look of concern as she watches me skull the drink.

“Hello everyone” I hear Gina’s obnoxious accent greet us as her and Michael finally meet up with us.

Mustering up whatever small amount of liquid courage the wine gave me, I place my empty glass down on the table and turn to face them with tight lipped smile.

The second Gina’s eyes fall over me, she transforms from a smiling trophy wife to a stone cold statue. They lock onto me like lasers before raking up and down my body, the same way they did on the first day we met. When her eyes finally meet mine again, she looks absolutely livid. Fuming. I’ve seen that same look on her before.

Possessively, she tightens her grip on Michael’s arm. Michael. I hadn’t even dared to look at him yet. But just like always it doesn’t take long for our darting eyes to meet. When they do, I find that he looks speechless. Frozen. His lips are parted in what I can only assume is shock. As he stares at me, at my body, he looks… breathless. Which is probably exactly how I look right now. I feel wildly uncomfortable, my heart rate picking up it’s pace as he gazes at me without blinking.

Tommy, Arthur and Polly quickly begin talking to ease the tension. They begin complimenting Gina on how lovely she looks. She’s dressed in a tight, silver gown, with her signature fur shawl drapes over her shoulders.

“It’s vintage” Gina smiles proudly, before turning her attention back to Michael. But the smile from her ego being stroked is quickly slapped of her face when she she’s how Michael is staring at me. Her head snaps towards him, looking completely offended that he’s even looking at me. She stares at her husband in bewilderment, but then her head rotates towards me. She clears her throat, which startles Michael. His eyes quickly dart away from my body, his neck growing red under his collar.

“Yellow…” Gina begins raising her eyebrows at me “How sweet, you look… bright”

She knows exactly what she’s doing. Her voice is so condescending its basically dripping with it. And her sweet smile is anything but sweet. It’s vicious. Forced. Tight lipped.

I want to bite back. I want to tell her how much that fur shawl she thinks makes her look expensive actually just looks like something she killed and skinned herself.

But I don’t. This woman has taken everything from me. I won’t let her take my pride. My dignity.

I take slow, calming deep breath before responding to her attempt at offending me with a cool smile. Underneath my skin she might have me boiling with rage. But I would never show her that.

“You look stunning Gina”

Her brows furrow ever so slightly as she fights to control the shock on her face. I caught her off guard. She expected me to strike back. To make a fool of myself. But I won’t let her have that satisfaction.

Then without quite knowing why, I turn to Michael, who looks like he’s about to have a heart attack when I lock my eyes onto his. I can see his stomach doing back flips as he waits in anticipation for what I’m about to say.

“And you have a beautiful wife, you must be so lucky”

And with one last smile, I excuse myself from the group and walk away. I try to walk with a strong stride, as if I’m sure of where I’m going. But I’m not. I’m just walking in any direction that will take me away from them, weaving through strangers as the adrenaline leaves my body. I’m not trying to leave, but I need to catch my breath for a second.

I need fresh air… and another drink.

Somehow, I manage to find my way to a back court yard, full off people smoking to relieve their stress. I’m not a smoker, but it’s still fresh air. And hell, at least I’m not the only one trying to escape the party. I don’t know why they bother coming out here, people are lighting up cigarettes inside anyway.

I find an empty chair to sit in, and I’m relieved to be able to stop for a second and gather myself. I can’t believe Gina. That woman is vile. Vicious. Poisonous. A snake dressed up in vintage dresses. Michael staring at me like he’s just seen a ghost.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a mans voice, asking if he can take a seat. I look up in the direction of the voice and find myself stunned. He is tall, much taller than me even though I’m sitting I can still see that he towers over me. He greets my shock with a warm smile. He seem’s nice enough.

“Uh, yes, of course” I quickly reply, realising I’m just staring like a someone who doesn’t know how to act in social situations.

“Sorry, for frightening you” he smiles sheepishly as he takes a seat. God, am I that easy to read.

“No, it’s fine, honestly, I was just thinking” I shake my head

“Thinking is good” he smirks, then extends a slender hand towards me “I’m Charlie”

“Isabelle” I introduce myself, feeling oddly comfortable around this man. I take his hand in mine and shake it gently.

“I’ll let you continue thinking?” He asks, suddenly looking guilty for interrupting my solitude.

“No please,” I shake my head, urging him to continue talking “That’s the last thing I want to be doing”

“Noted” he grins back “What brings you here, Isabelle”

“To this court yard or to this ball?” I tease, surprised at my own playfulness.

“Let’s start with the ball first then”

“To the ball… Work”

“And to this luxurious court yard?” He jokes, gesturing to our slightly run down surroundings.

I pause for a moment. What do I say? That I just ran away from my ex partner and his new wife? That I’m hiding from them to avoid the suffocating tension between us? Because I think he still loves me but he won’t just admit it?

“The fresh air” I retort sarcastically.

He watches me closely, the glint of a smile in his eyes as the corners of his mouth curl up. He nods, accepting that he’s not going to get anymore out of me than that. But I feel bad. Normally I’m an open book. I love people. But my situation with Michael is far to complex even me to understand, let alone explain to a stranger. Feeling guilty for not giving him much of a decent conversation, I turn to face him directly.

“What about you, Charlie?”

He hums, looking up as he thinks “To the court yard or the ball?”

I can’t help but grin at his quick wit, as he gives me a dose of my own medicine. But clearly only jokingly teasing me, he continues to answer my question.

“Here to support my brother, he runs one of the charities being honoured tonight”

I smile. This man. Charlie. He is sweet.

“To the court yard, however, I have also come to get fresh air. These kinds of events aren’t really my thing”

“You and me both” I nod “Not that we’re getting much fresh air anyway”

He laughs softly, nodding along with me in agreement.

“Do you drink, Isabelle?” He questions

“Only on days that end with Y” I smirk, answering his question.

He beams back at me, seeming almost like he’s not used to this.

“You know I’m thinking a drink at the bar might do us better than this lovely fresh air”

I cock my head to the side, watching him closely. I don’t know this man. Not well, anyway. This isn’t the type of networking I was planning on doing. But when was the last time I did something for me? Michael does. Michael puts his needs first every day. And the longer I look at this man, the longer I realise how absolutely stunning he is. And yeah, maybe I want to have a goddamn drink with him. I stand up from my chair and he quickly follows my lead with a grin. Without a word, he extends his arm to me and I take it, defying every part of me that feels weird hiding any mans arm that isn’t Michael’s. I’m doing this for me.

What ensues is a half hour of drinking at the bar, where we learn more about each other. Every time he opens his mouth I’m taken aback by how funny, intelligent and sweet this man is. He meets every joke of mine with an even better one. His quick wit keeping up with mine like it’s nothing. He says the right thing. The nice thing. The funny thing. His laugh is divine, and I begin to notice his deeply set smile lines and subtle dimples. Everything about Charlie is new. Exciting. I’ve been so fixated, so used to Michael for so long that I find myself in awe of the man in front of me.

I almost forget we are even at an event until a voice booms into the air over a loud and screeching microphone. The voice asks us all to returns to our seats for dinner, before the event properly begins.

“What table are you at?”

“I’m not sure, actually” I reply as I quickly realise I’m not sure where the Shelby’s are seated. Suddenly I see Polly’s face appear in the crowd. She hasn’t spotted me yet, but I can tell she is looking for me. Shit. Panic sets in. I know Polly wouldn’t be mad at me for having drinks with another man. In fact I’m sure she’d encourage it. But I’m not ready. I’m not ready to have her see me with another man. Very quickly, I begin to feel horrible about this. Maybe I shouldn’t be getting drinks with another man. God what am I doing?

“You alright?” I hear Charlie ask and I look back at him nervously.

“Uh, yeah I, I just think I need to-“ my sentence is interrupted by panic as Polly is getting closer and closer.

“It’s alright, you should get back” He reassures me. I look up at him with furrowed brows and nods in understanding, but his smile looks sad. God I feel terrible. But I can’t stay.

“I’m sorry” I apologise in a rush as I hurry away from him, desperate to get back to the table without being seen by Polly.

To my relief, I manage to stalk my way around the crowd and avoid Polly. But once I feel like I breathe a sigh of relief, I’m smacked in the face with another wave of panic. Now I have to sit with Gina and Michael at dinner. I hurry up to our table once I spot it, and slide into my seat so quickly only Tommy notices me sit down. Noticing I’m out of breath he furrows his brows at me.

“Did you run here or something?” he laughs nudging me playfully with his shoulder. I scoff. I practically did, yeah.

“Oh, there you are!” Polly’s voice exclaims suddenly, drawing attention to me. Gina and Michael’s heads both shoot over my way, and it doesn’t take long to get served a disgusted look from Gina. But right now Gina and her bitch face is on the bottom of my worry list. I’m just relieved that I made it back to the table without Polly seeing me with Charlie. Oh god. I cringe remembering how I left him in the lurch at the bar. I all but ran away from the guy while he was half way through a sentence.

Suddenly waiters start appearing from the kitchen doors, serving the dinner to all the guests. Desperate to have something to distract me, I busy myself with the food and try to centre myself again. I let the chatter of the party fall into the background as I zone out, my mind travelling back to Charlie. I made a complete fool of myself. He was perfectly nice. More than nice. He was completely charming. Why did I just run away from him like that. At one point, I happen to catch eyes with Michael, who seems to already be looking at me. His eyes dart away from me quickly trying to pretend like I didn’t catch him looking. But I don’t even bother entertaining him for that right now. This awkward staring game he is playing is getting very old, very fast.

Does he expect me to read his goddamn mind?

Before I know it, dinner is over, and the afternoons festivities begin. The host drones on for many long, painful minutes, most of the time bragging about their generosity towards the charities here tonight. I try not to laugh. Doesn’t the boasting kind of defeat the purpose of the philanthropy? As he finally wraps up his self centred speech I assumed that might all just go back to mingling and forcing small talk with all these strangers, but no. As the band begins to play music once more, the host announces that the ball room floor has opened.

Gina exclaims excitedly at Michael as couples all over the room begin to stand and make their way to the dance floor in the middle of the room.

You’ve got to be kidding me. I look up at the ceiling and to the heavens above. Someone up there really has it out for me.

I watch as Michael forces a smile at Gina as she tugs on his coat, begging him to dance.

“Dance with me baby?” She pouts, sounding like a whining child. I bite the inside of my lip, trying not to scoff out loud. Michael hates being called baby. When we were together, he used to love the way I called him ‘my love’. He had insisted that he could never imagine being called by any other name. Joking that he would change his name legally so I couldn’t call him anything but ‘my love’.

Reluctantly, he places his napkin on the table and helps Gina up out of her chair.

“Excuse us, I have to dance with my husband” she says to the table as she hangs of Michael’s arm, but I know she’s directing that comment directly at me. Everyone nods, excusing them from the table. I try to wipe the look of hurt, jealousy and anger of my face as I watch them join the rest of the dancing couples.

“Thought you might need this” Arthur’s voice says in my ear as he sits down next to me, sliding a glass of wine in my direction.

“What would make you think that?” I reply sarcastically, but give him a grateful smile. For the next few songs I watch them pensively over the top of the rim of my glass. Gina is beaming up at Michael. Clutching onto him possessively every time another woman gets to close. Michael doesn’t look totally miserable either. He even looks like he’s enjoying himself for a few fleeting moments. Of course he is. He’s married. His wife is beautiful. She adores him. What more could he want, right?

After the 3rd song finishes they leave the dance floor and begin to return to the table. I force my eyes down to the ground, to make out like I haven’t just been staring at them for the past 15 minutes.

They only just reach the table, taking their seats, when a males voice says my name from beside us.

In shock at hearing my name, I look up in its direction. My eyes meet with a pair of familiar blue eyes and a gentle smile.

Charlie.

“Would you like to dance with me?” He proposes, extending his arm to me. When he see’s my hesitance he gives me a deep, knowing look. Like he’s been watching this all unfold and he has come to whisk me away. To save me. I should feel embarrassed. Awkward. Another man offering to dance with me when Michael is right there should feel weird. But instead I just feel… butterflies. The good kind. I want to let myself do this. Why not. I don’t have anyone to be loyal to. I have been loyal to Michael since day one. He hasn’t returned that. I don’t owe him a goddamn thing.

Without a word I take his hand, rising from my seat. His face lights up, and he gives me a smile that looks… proud. He squeezes my hand once, before linking my arm with his.

“Thank you” he nods at the Shelby’s respectfully with a small bow “I’ll have her back soon”

I glance over at all their faces as we walk away. Tommy and Arthur watch on like protective brothers, and Polly has a proud smile on her face. She loves her son, but I know she’s thinking how much he deserves to have this rubbed in his face. Speaking of Michael, the look on his face is priceless. He looks hot and angry, his face distorted and twisted half between fury and… hurt.

But I don’t have much time to look at Michael, not while Charlie is leading me through the dance floor until we find a clear spot to stand. He smirks as we face each other. He places one large, slender hand on my waist while the other interlocks with mine. I take a deep breath to steady myself. Another mans touch is so unfamiliar to me. He watches me carefully, reading me like a book. Sensing my nerves, he very slowly and gently pulls me closer to him. Not to fast. But not to slow. How the hell does he know how to do the right thing every time?

Feeling how calm and steady he is has the same effect on me, and I feel my rushing mind and racing heart begin to slow.

“Hi again” he coos softly, smiling down at me.

“Hi” I reply, unable to help the grin that is growing wider and wider on my own face. I follow his lead as we begin to sway along to the slow jazz music that is playing in the background. I frown slightly, still feeling guilty about leaving him.

“I’m so sorry about before” I apologise looking up at him sheepishly.

“Don’t be” He shakes his head, dismissing my concern “Just don’t run off from me while we’re in the middle of the dance floor yea, might not recover from that one” he teases. We both chuckle.

“I’m not going anywhere” I assure him

“That’s fine by me” he bites his lip as we find ourselves getting even closer to one another until we’re pressed right up against one another. As we share a moment just gazing at one another, I can’t help but wonder he came just at the right time. Who the hell sent this man?

Suddenly turns us around in a circle, holding me tight as we spin. Catching me off guard, he lowers me down into a dip. His strong hand supports my back, and my head falls back as I laugh gleefully. When he brings me back up, our faces are so close that our noses are touching. I half expect him to kiss me, to take advantage of this moment. But he doesn’t. He remains a perfect gentleman. I’m completely caught up in him, caught up in our own little bubble when it is burst by the sight of Michael over Charlie’s shoulder.

He is standing with the Shelby’s and Gina, as they’re mingling and chatting with another family. But he’s not paying attention to them. He is glaring at Charlie and I over the top of his drink. He throws it back angrily, before all but slamming it down on the table. I can see his chest rising and falling heavily from here. Michael isn’t even trying to hide his jealously. I can’t believe the audacity of Michael. It’s almost laughable.

“You good?” Charlie asks with concern, noticing that I’m distracted. He also notices Michael as he looks between us. I think for a moment, and funnily enough, I am good. I’m good. Right now, with Charlie, I feel untouchable.

“I’m wonderful” I nod and he smiles with relief.

“Yeah,” he breathes “You are”

As the next song picks up in pace, he dances me around the floor. He spins me, twirling me around, but catches me again every time. We laugh with each other, enjoying getting completely wrapped up in the moment. I completely forget about Michael. In fact, I completely forget anyone else is even in the room until the final song comes to an end.

We linger for a moment, still enamoured with each other while most people begin to leave the dance floor. I feel almost high of the chemistry between us. The host announces that the final song also marks the ending of the evening. He is the first to break our bubble as he begins to let go of me slowly, his hand lingering on my waist before he finally lets go.

“Alright, I think I’ve stolen you for long enough” he chuckles, breaking the tension between us “You can run now if you like”

“I might be to out of breath for that” I retort with a laugh “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“I was just saving my best moves for you”

“Thank you, for…” I begin, but I can’t finish my sentence. Thank you for the dance, yes. But how do I thank him for saving my from a night of torture at the table with Michael and Gina.

“Trust me, the pleasure has been all mine”

“I haven’t had that much fun in a long time”

“Well that makes two of us”

Theres a long, long moment between us. I may not have done this in a while but I still know what happens next. That’s when my nerves begin to return slowly but surely. Can I do this? He is wonderful. Everything about him is wonderful. And the chemistry is palpable. But am I ready for this?

Sensing that I’m uncomfortable, he bows slightly. “I’ll let you get back. It’s been lovely meeting you, Isabelle” he smiles down at me.

I watch as he turns, almost about to walk away when something comes over me. I quickly reach for his coat pulling him back to me.

“Wait,” I say desperately as he steps closer to me “Come home with me”

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS 

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

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[aliceaddellheidde]

His Celtic girl

A/N: This one is for @youbloodymadgenius 1K celebration. It´s first time I´m doing something like that. I lost my grandfather and bunny while writing so I´m sorry if it sucks.

Prompts in bold.

WORDS: 4869

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, smut & violence (graphic), blood, swearing, death

PAIRING: Ivar x OC (Moko)

DISCLAIMERS: I tried to be historically accurate as much as possible. I don’t hate Christians. English isn´t my first language.

Moodboard by me; pics from internet.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Moko from Mokosh – Slavic goddess of fertility & water.

Ivar awakes from his long sleep. His head is hurting like Thor hit him with his hammer. He remembers fighting. Saxon's soldier with dagger. Hvitserk in tears. Grey sky. And then dark.

When he opens his eyes he sees wooden ceiling and small window on his left. „You are finally up.” says voice from his right with foreign accent and when he turns his head that way he sees young woman sitting on a chair by fire, mixing something in kettle. He tries to sit but agonizing pain stops him. „If I was you I wouldn't move. I bet your body still hurts.” It does but he will not tell it to that girl. With clenched teeth he pushes himself up, leaning against wall. „Who … ?” he tries to say - his throat dry, voice raspy. „Who are you?” he asks after few moments. „Moko.” She smiles a little, handing him cup. He watches it suspiciously before he takes it and drinks small gulps. „You have weird name.” he snorts. „Says nameless man whose I found on battle field almost dead. With no one around. Forgotten.” „I'm the king of the world! You stupid bitch knows      nothing!” he screams, throwing cup her way, his calmness turning into anger in mere seconds. „Don’t look like king to me.” she shrugs and turns to kettle again. He´s fuming, looking for something to throw at her. All he finds is fur over his legs. Fuck. Did she see them? „Why am I here anyway? You said I was dead. How I could be when I'm here, hm?” he asks with scorn. She said nothing. „Answer me! Where am I? Where is my brother!” He punches wooden bed under him. „I don’t know. My dog found you and I took you to my home. Now I think it was a mistake.” She was standing with hands on her hips. „I don’t need your help! I can take care of myself!” „Go then! I don’t give damn if you do!” she screams, stepping closer to him. He sees red. „At least I will not have to take care of crippled idiot!” He throws himself onto her but she just swiftly moves away from him, hand on sword. He almost screams from pain as his body hit the floor. Yet he stops    himself, spitting blood her way. Then he finally looks at her properly.

She is short, long dark hair falling to her waist, dressed in light yellow dress with golden armoured corset, belt around hips with few small pouches and sword scabbard. Her widen eyes watching him like falcon. He moves again and she unsheathes her weapon. ,,You are not gonna kill me.” he smirks. ,,No, but I can still hurt you.” They are watching each other for few more minutes before she puts sword away, takes cloth from table and cautiously sits next to him on the floor. He flinches when her hand moves to his face to wipe blood away. „Look, I took you here to take care of you. Once you are healed, you can leave. But until then it's better for you to stay with me.” She smiles when he lowers his head to avoid her gaze. ,,Ivar.” he whispers. ,,I'm sorry?” „My name is Ivar.” ,,You have weird name.” He only chuckled. ,,How about you take bath and I finish food? Then we can talk.” He looks at his useless legs and back at her. ,,Oh, I will give you some privacy.” She turns away with flushed face but he stops her. ,,Wait. I ... I need your help.” He already hates idea of her touching him or seeing him naked but he has no other choice. ,,So now you need my help?” she teases. ,,Shut up.”

She goes for water while he is looking around her home. There is big fire pit in the middle of room, on right side of room is wooden table with different knives, daggers, food, plates, bowls and cups. Next to it is longer lower table with wooden benches and flowers on it. On left side is his bed and then hutch with different herbs, flowers, books and bottles. Ivar never saw material like that.

„It´s glastos. Or how they call it here in Anglia – glass.” says Moko when she comes back with two buckets of water. „We are still in Wessex?” „Sussex. But I always wanted to travel around the world. Meet new people and try new things.” „So are you Christian then?” „Oh Gods, no!” she laughs. „You are not Viking either. Then what are you?” He watches her as she is moving around house. She takes few herbs and puts them into tub and then fills it with boiling water. „I'm from old Celtic tribe called Anartes. We lived in Europe. But one day my family decided that we should move and so we did. I lived here with my parents and brother. But they are all dead. And now it´s my purpose to keep our legacy alive. And what about you Ivar?” „I'm Viking.” „Rus´ Viking?” „No. I´m from Norway. How do you know about the Rus?” „My people had deals with them. We   exchanged animals, food and other stuff.” „Have you ever been in Kiev or Novgorod?” „No. But my father was there once.” „They are Christians now.” „Poor people. How do you know them?” „I had to r… . I travelled there with my friend. But then my brother came for me to fight king Alfred. We had some unfinished business.” „You were talking about you brothers in your dreams. Asking one of them for forgiveness. His name is Hvitserk. Am I right?” Ivar is quiet. „I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe they imprisoned him or he died.” „My brother is not dead!” he screams and she jumps a bit. „You don’t know that.” „I have to save him. Like he saved me.” „You are so stubborn! When I found you I thought you were dead but you were breathing still. I took care of you for three bloody days and you are still wounded. Yet you want to go to Winchester and be hero for your brother?” she wasn't screaming but she was angry. „That´s exactly what I want to do.” he half-smiled. „And how? You don’t have an army. You will never break through their defence.” His upper lip twitches in indignation because she is right. „I can´t leave him there. What would you do if it was your brother?” „Saved him.” „See?” „But not if I was hurt and with no warriors.” „Then we will find some.” „Ivar, these people are Christians and they love Alfred because he won over The great heathen army. They will never defraud him.” „We will see about it.” „In few days I´m  going to Chichester. I can ask if someone knows what happened to survived Vikings.” „I'll go with you.” She sighted and checked water temperature. „I have few conditions if you want to go with me.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „What do you want from me?” „You will sit on your arse and will not try to investigate on your own or try to kill anybody. Deal?” „Deal.” „Great. Now come and have a bath.”

„Earlier you said I´m crippled idiot. How did you know?” Ivar asks while he takes his tunic off. „Well, I had to take your braces off of your legs and I saw them.” He frowns at her. „Help me with trousers. But keep your eyes on my face.” he growls. „Is there a problem I saw them?” she asks as her small hands untie strand from around his hips. „They are hideous.” „I don’t really care about it.” Her brown-green eyes bore into his blue ones. „What do you care about then?” „If I and my animals will be healthy and if we will have enough food, water and home. And overall if I will have long, happy life.” „That´s so deep.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „Stop mocking me. I like simple life.” She helps him into tub, avoiding looking at him, gives him cloth and walk back to kettle. „Have you ever been with a man?” he asks suddenly. „Why?” „You are shy. Can´t even look at me when I´m naked. So I assumes you are still virgin.” he has wicked smile on his face. „That´s not something you need to know.” „Hm, maybe.” he smirks. „I also want to know what is all that.” He points on herbal hutch. „That´s my work. I´m making potions, herbal remedies and different things from it for other people.” „Clever girl.” „Yes, I´m.” She straightens her back and he laughs at her. „What did you put in bath?” „Lavender. You can make oil from it and eat it.” Ivar thoughtfully takes herb from water and bits a small bite. And second later she smacks his head. „Not from that dirty water! That´s    disgusting.” „I don’t like the taste anyway.” he frowns. „You didn’t try my lavender cake.” „I need proper food. Meat. Not some stupid cakes.” „It´s almost ready. Better wash your hair and come  eat.” When he goes out of the tub she hands him clean towel and clothes, averting looking at him again. „Virgin.” he murmurs for himself.

Over lunch – deer with plum sauce – they get to know each other. He tells her about his life, family and wars, hiding some details he´s ashamed of, and is pleasantly surprised how excited she is. „My parents taught me and my brother how to fight. My mother was warrior alongside my father.” „I usually had few my the most trustworthy warriors for my protection. I can´t really move on legs but in hand-to-hand combat I´m perfect.” „Maybe we can learn from one another.” „Maybe.”

After food Ivar meets all her animals and she shows him her gardens. Few metres from them is river with small boat. „It´s yours?” „Yes.” „It looks funny. I was on massive ones. My friend Floki built them. This one here is just joke.” „Ivar I swear that if you make any more stupid comments about my things I´ll leave you outside!” „Oh come on darling. You wouldn't do that. Not after your hard work.” He twirls slowly around his stick and bows. „You even put lavender oil into my hair.” He tosses his braids over shoulder. She laughs so much that she misses how he´s looking at her with goofy smile.

*few days later*

Ivar feels movement next to him and sits with dagger in hand. „It´s just me, you idiot.” says Moko, ruffling his hair on way down. „It´s still dark! Can´t we sleep a bit longer?” he shouts after her. „No. Today we´re going to Chichester so you better come for breakfast.”

In those couple of days he lived with Moko he learnt a lot about her, her people and culture. She was teaching him how to speak in her language, she showed him all her herbs and flowers and her knowledge in fighting, manufacture and farming. He wasn´t really fond of all of those things but he liked how excited she was when she was speaking about them or doing them. And if he tries those things too, oh gods, she even hugs him. It felt good.

Ivar is seating in covered carriage, petting her dog and listening to her singing. They travels for hours now with only one break and Ivar needs to sleep but he can´t. He somehow wants to protect her even when he doesn’t know why and how. „We will settle down here. Tomorrow morning we are in Chichester.” Her voice interrupts him from his thoughts. He looks out from carriage into darkening countryside. „Don´t just stare. Bring the chicken and make fire. If your puny regal ass can do that.” she smirks and starts to build a tent. Ivar is used to it by now, nonetheless he is surprised with how much ease she´s talking to him. He did what he could but that damn fire not and not to burst to life. „I thought you Vikings are fearful people and you can´t even make fire. Want some help?” He blames his shaking hands on cold not her presence. She makes fire in mere moments and then put kettle on it. „We will have chicken stew with vegetable and mushrooms. Is it ok?” He nods and watches with dilated pupils when she knocks off the poor bird. „It´s the last time I can have chicken or rabbit before Ostara.” „Then what?” „Bath in spring water, sacrifice hare and chicken but leave eggs for altar. We will have flower crowns and we will sow few seeds.” „Oh no, no. Leave me out of this. I will not have flowers in my hair.” „It will be fun.” „I doubt it.” „Shush and cut this please.”

Ivar sees stone towers and soldiers guarding big gate into Chichester. They are watching them suspiciously until Moko asks them for direction to market. „Don´t forget your name.” she warns him when she´s helping him out of carriage. „Leofric. I know.” he rolls his eyes. „Try to be more nice. Smile.” He turns to her and smile. Then smirks when she blushes. „I will find us room to sleep and you can put things on table. And leave your hood on.” „Gods woman! I´m not a child.” She giggles and walks away.

„We have room for three nights … Leofric, let him go!” Moko rushes to him and tries to separate him from another young man. „He tried to steal!” says Ivar. „I just wanted to see it better.” protests the other man, still with Ivar´s hand around neck. Moko smacks it and he growls at her but let go. „Thank you milady.” The other man tries to kiss her hand but she turns it palm up. „Return that bottle you stole. You may hurt yourself with it.” She waits few seconds and when nothing happens she jumps at poor man, turns his arm behind his back and yanks bottle from his hand. Ivar watches her with awe on his face. „Get off, idiot.” she spat at pathetic man and they both laugh when he runs away.

„That´s not funny Moko.” says Saxon soldier, walking to them. „Osgar, welcome.” „I see you keep up with tradition.” he snickers. „Every year someone tries something. They knows I can protect myself and my stuff but still.” „And you brought some friend.” He looks at Ivar sitting on stool. „That´s Leofric. I´m taking care of him.” „What happened?” „Bear in forest.” Ivar snorts. „I can say God is with him when he found the best healer in whole Anglia.” „Stop it Osgar!” Moko blushes again. „Rather tell me what happened after battle. Last time you didn’t have time.” „There is not much to say. We captured survivors and turned them into Christians. They live in their settlements. Our king trusts them.” „And you don’t?” He smirks. „I kind of envy those whose ran away. You knows my parents were Vikings, right? I live for day I will leave this land and will live like them.” he says quieter and looks around if someone hears him. „Adventurous Osgar. Any news about their kings?” „As far as I know Harald and Ivar are dead. But one son of Ragnar lives with Alfred in Winchester. I don’t know his real name. But his given one is Athelstan.” „Thank you. And what about your family?” „Good. My little girl is fighting with everyone and my wife isn´t very happy about it. My son still has mark on his face. He´s on guard now and I should replace him. See you later.” Day goes well, some of Moko´s customers comes and after sunset they goes to tavern for good night sleep.

„There is only one bed!” Ivar exclaims when they enter the bedroom. „Afraid of sleeping with me?” „What? No!” He puts their belongings on table, trying to calm down his too loud beating heart. „I'm going to have a bath. You will be ok here?” He nods. She disappeared behind the curtain  and he´s listening to her movements and noises she makes when she dives into warm water.

Moko feels water in the tub move. When she opens her eyes she sees Ivar sitting next to it. „What are you doing?” she squeaks. Ivar chuckles. „What does it look like? I have to wash as well. Or you want me dirty in bed?” She sinks more into water, only her head visible. He puts his hands into water again and his fingers brush her calf. She freezes and he smirks. „Your skin is so soft.” And she's blushing again. But both can play this game. „Will you wash my hair, please?” she asks innocently and his hand pauses in the middle of his face, eyes wide, shining. „Are you sure? I never done this.” Moko moves to him. „Please.” She turns her back to him and he clumsily takes her hair in one hand while the other is putting soap on it. Then he moves to her scalp. „That fells nice.” When he's done he smooths it on her back, his fingers lightly touching her skin. „Thank you. Give me a minute and you can go in as well.” She quickly rinses her head. „Close your eyes.” „Why?” „I have to go out and you can´t see me.” „I saw many naked women.” She glares at him over shoulder. „Fine.” But of course he cheated. He watches as she stands up and puts on linen tunic. After that she helps him in tub, she washes his hair and gives him his clothes.

„I said to the owner of this tavern that you are my husband.” says Moko nonchalantly when they are tuck in bed under warm duvet. „What!?” He sits up and frowns. „So we can have same room” ,,You are little minx.” he laughs and move closer to her. ,,What are you doing?” ,,Keeping us warm.” She turns her back to him, hiding her face into pillow. ,,Good night little minx.” he smiles into dark.

They wake up tangled at each other limbs. Moko tries to get up but Ivar´s arms around her are too strong. He nuzzles her hair and murmurs something. ,,Ivar, we have to go and sell otherwise we will have no money.” He groans when he opens his eyes. ,,I'll come later and brings you breakfast.” ,,You better be quick.” She kisses his cheek, throws her clothes on and she's gone. Ivar is still frozen on the bed processing what just happened.

,,I have bread, meat and wine.” ,,Oh, you are saviour! I'm starving.” He gives her plate with a cup on it. ,,Where is your food?” ,,I ate. Have only one hand free.” He waves with his right one and she grins at him. ,,Is it ok if you work until I finish?” ,,Sure.” He sells few pots and potions already when Osgar comes to them. ,,Hello you two.” ,,Good morning. Do you need something?” Moko asks. ,,Just to say you the news.” ,,What news?” ,,King Alfred will come here in five days to deal with Vikings in prison.” Moko sees Ivar stiffs. ,,Thank you. What do you think he will do to them?” ,,Probably gives them an option between conversion or death.” „And do you know if Viking´s prince will come too? I would like to see him.” He shrugs and goes back doing his work. „We need a plan how to get my brother and leave this stupid country.” „You don’t wanna kill       Alfred?” „Of course I want! But as you said, I need an army. I avenged death of my father on his grandfather and now I´ll avenge my own death on him.” „And rule Wessex?” „Maybe?” „Good luck then.” „You will not stay with me?” „I want to explore the world.” „If you will help me with Alfred I´ll give more treasure than you will ever need for fulfil your dream.” She looks at him sceptically. „Really?” „Word of the prince.” „I will think about it.”

„That one next to king on left is my brother Hvitserk.” Ivar whispers into her ear when Alfred comes to Chichester. „You remember our plan?” „Yes.”

They have to wait until next day but when Hvitserk comes to Moko´s stall she's nervous. He's handsome as Ivar but with lighter hair. They talk about different herbs for his problems and then she takes small dagger from her sleeve. „Prince Hvitserk, your brother Ivar wants you to have this.” „My brother is dead. I saw him fall in battle.” „I can assure you he's alive.” „How can I trust you?” „Because she's telling you the truth my brother.” says Ivar from shadow behind her. Hvitserk flinches a bit and can´t believe his eyes. „You are a witch! This is some stupid trick. My brother is dead!” „You see he's not.” Hvitserk slowly walks to Ivar and then he suddenly hugs him with teary eyes. „You fucking idiot! How comes gods saved you?” „They sent Moko. She took care of me.” Hvitserk looks at her and she smiles at him. „Nice to meet you.”

*month later in Winchester*

Ivar is excited all morning as helps Moko with selling. He sees men Hvitserk told him they are their allies when they walks around courtyard. They planned everything carefully. It took some time to collect enough men for attack to Winchester royal villa.

Once the night falls they moves. Quietly under veil of darkness their backups shoots guards on walls and at the gate and they are inside dim corridor. Hvitserk comes out from his hiding spot in kitchen with few warriors and silently they go forward to king´s chambers. His legs hurt and he's cursing on himself because Moko told him to rest during day but he didn’t listen. He sees her in the front of the group with plaited hair, sword ready for fight, serious look on painted face. Beautiful, clever and dangerous. That's what she is. Hvitserk is next to her eating something he stole from   kitchen.

Villa is suspiciously soundless and Ivar is suspicious. He feels it in his bones. It´s several minutes after they killed guards and until now they didn’t meet any more nor there was horn signal. For sure someone found bodies. But they have to do it. Even if it´s trap.

They reach their destination and Osgar goes first. The room is dark, only light from candles elucidate it. Ivar gives signal to his men and they encircle bed. Another signal and they are penetrating it with their swords. At same moment all other three doors of the room open and Alfred runs in with his soldiers, attacking mercilessly. Ivar watches as his warriors die one by one,        outnumbered. „Fight! Fight!” he screams, killing Saxons on his way to Alfred. Then everything freezes as he watches Moko moving between soldiers like air, sword and axe wet from their blood. One of Alfred´s bodyguards cuts her cheek and she stabs him in the neck, decapitating another one with other hand. Now she's face to face with king. What nobody awaits is Elsewith with sword assaulting Moko. English woman cuts her deep into hip when axe, thrown by Ivar, cuts through her back right after. His raging scream encourages his men. He assaults Alfred with blazing fury, maniac urge in the eyes. He effectively disarms young king, cuts his neck, fresh blood splashes him. Ivar throws himself onto Alfred stabbing him with all his power, shouting in old Norse, breathing heavy air with smell of sweat, dead bodies and taste of iron. Surviving Saxons watch in disbelieve and fear before they meet same fate from his fellow Vikings.

Things happens so quickly after that. One moment he is in king´s chamber, then he´s fighting his way from villa and in carriage fleeing into safety. He can feel adrenaline flows through his veins. Hvitserk sits opposite him, covered in blood too. They smile at each other. Moko´s next to him, patching her wound. „We did it.” he says victoriously and suddenly kisses her. She doesn’t protest and he's happy.

Following three months they are travelling and stealing all over Anglia. After that they build boats for way home. Night before their departure Ivar and Hvitserk are sitting by fire, enjoying peaceful quiet. „Will you go back to Norway or you´ll stay with Moko?” asks Hvitserk. „I don’t know what are you talking about brother. Of course I´m going with you!” „Are you sure Ivar? I see how you are looking at her.” Ivar glares at his laughing brother. „She doesn’t want to stay with me. She wants to travel.” „Then I´m gonna tell her i´ll accompanish her.” He turns to leave when a cup hits his head. „Don´t you dare!” Ivar screams. „Why not? She's free woman. Maybe I´ll ask her to marry me.” Hvitserk walks slowly backward with smirk, watching Ivar crawling on the ground as fast as he can to Moko´s tent.  

She walks out of it at same time as they show up. „Hello boys. Can I help you?” „Ivar wants to speak with you.” Hvitserk blurts out and Ivar hits him in the ankle. „Sure. I just need to get some food.” „I will get it. You two have fun.” „Come in then.” Moko smiles at Ivar.

„What you wanna talk about?” she asks, sitting next to him on bed. „Are you really sure you want to leave Anglia? And travel by yourself?” he asks straight away. „We spoke about it. I have small crew, you know.” „I know. It´s just … I don’t trust them that much. I would like to have you next to me more.” „As your friend, bodyguard or …?” „My right hand.” He looks at her. „And as my queen too, maybe?” She´s quietly staring at him and in next moment her lips are on his, her soft body collides with his hard one as they fall on bed.

His hands are on her hips, pushing her more and more against his prick. She takes off his tunic, her fingers grazing his tattoos. „You like them?” She nods and kisses him again. „Have you ever done this?” „No.” „Let me make you feel good then.” He is nervous like never before but also determined to do it right, to show her he really cares about her. His fingers are trembling when he unties her dress and takes it off. She tries to hide from his curious eyes but he catches her hands, kissing them and putting them next to her. „You are beautiful.” He kisses her whole shivering body until he reaches her warm core. When he looks back at her she's watching him already with flushed cheeks. They hold their gaze when his tongue touches her and she lifts a bit from bed. He's not  stopping her, only diving his head deeper. She's making those small noises he knew were good sign. „Ivar.” she moans his name. „I want more.” He hovers over her, kissing her. „If it hurts too much, you have to stop me, ok? I might not be able to control myself.” „Ok.” „Do you trust me?” „Yes.” He pushes slowly in her tight hole and kisses her tears away. „I'm sorry my Queen.” Her nails scratches his back, leaving bloody marks when he bottoms up. He waits few moments, then moves slowly, searching for any clues of her discomfort. None appears. She even smiles at him slightly. „Feels good?” „Yeah, it´s nice.” „Should I move faster, or is this fine?” „I have no idea!” she laughs. „You are the one with experiences.” „Yeah, right.” He nuzzle into her neck, his hips hitting hers as he quickens and she surprisingly pushes against him.

They are lost in their own pleasurable world, they didn’t even notice Hvitserk when he comes with food. He smirks proudly and walks away.

***

„I never thought I will love someone again but it happened.” Ivar smiles in Moko´s hair as they lies under warm furs, her head on his chest. „You love me?” „Yes. You have bewitched me, body and soul. My Celtic girl.” „I love you too Ivar.”

*next day*

A storm comes from nowhere and Moko´s watching as ship with Vikings is burning from     lightning strike. „Can´t we help them somehow?” „I'm sorry my love. They are probably all dead by now.” But much to his own surprise he can see some men jumping into the sea. „If I´ll die saving those idiots, I´m going to annoy you in Valhalla forever.” „And I will enjoy every second of it, my king. Now go and be a hero.” He kisses her briefly and then shuts orders. At the end they saves ten men but loose control over own boat.

***

„Land! Land!” Ivar hears shouting and stands up to see if it´s really true. „Not really how I imagined my travels but it´s still new land to explore.” Moko says next to him, hugging him. „Our new start my Queen.”

She turns in his embrace as they are looking towards their new adventures.

[nevermord]

Lepus Liberation

This is a fun little gift I did for RedBand.Jackalope! We were just chatting a bit and talking about bunny rescue centers when my muse pulled out a hammer and clonked me on the head, prompting this story! Jillian the Jackalope hears about a less-than-reputable feral bunny rescue center and goes to give them a piece of her mind. However, it seems that the "good" doctor may be breaking a few rules at Trivial Matters once more. Now she's going to show them they can't just use bunnies to get money. She's going to show them in a BIG way. Jillian grumbled under her breath as she sped down the open desert road.  Her blue Jeep Cherokee's engine roared in the relative desert silence as her sandal clad paw pressed down harder on the accelerator.  The heat coming off of the blinding sand all around caused the air to shimmer and created phantom puddles on the blacktop.  Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as her mind kept going back to what she had seen that morning.

The fluffy, white-furred jackalope was practically trembling with anger as she remembered the message she had seen that morning.  A news report on a so-called feral bunny rescue where the owners had no idea what they were doing but somehow operated just within the rule of law.  Half of the poor things were unbrushed, their coats so matted that their fur was falling out in clumps.  Not to mention they hadn't been properly separated so nearly all of the females rabbits were currently pregnant!

She had instantly decided she was heading down there to give them a piece of her mind.  The staff needed to either learn how to watch over the rabbits the right way or take them across town to a real animal shelter where they would be properly cared for.  Exactly how she was going to make them do this was another problem entirely.

She drove along the desert road, her temper began to cool a bit as the warm, dry air from her open window rushed through her soft fur and long, brown hair.  She sighed softly and itched at the stump of her broken antler.  She realized there realistically wasn't anything she could do, and the thought of a face to face conflict with these random strangers was causing a knot to form in the pit of her stomach.  Checking in the rear-view mirror and seeing nobody coming up behind her, she decided to pull over to the side of the road and think a minute.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even hear the loud, droning buzz of the over-sized silvery mosquito as it swept in through her open window.  She didn't even feel it land lightly on the collar of her black t-shirt.  Even the quiet hiss as its needle-like proboscis extended went completely unnoticed.  A glowing green liquid dripped from it as the tiny mechanical monstrosity leaned towards the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

“OUCH!  Damn it!!”  She jumped and slapped at the side of her neck, an expression of disgust on her face as she felt something fairly large crunch under her hand.  Looking down at her palm, she saw some kind of green glop staining her fur and what she thought had to be a crushed bluebottle fly.  What other biting insect looked so shiny and metallic after all, even if it did seem a bit big. She wrinkled her nose as she grabbed a leftover fast food napkin from a pocket on the drivers' side door, wiping the mess off of her fingers.  “Ugh, just one annoyance after another today.”  She tugged at her seat belt grumbling about how tight it had gotten and adjusted it a little as she got ready to turn her truck around and head back towards home.  

As she reached out to turn the key she overshot it by an inch or so.  She blinked, taking a look at her hand, turning it from side to side in front of her.  It looked swollen somehow, the knuckles a little stiff as she flexed her fingers.  “What the hell, am I having an allergic reaction to a bug bite now?”

She leaned over to pop open the glove compartment, her larger fingers fumbling with the latch.  Finally getting it open, she hunted for a mirror to get a better look at the bite mark.  The jackalope was sure she would find some hideous, swollen red welt on the side of her neck.  As she sat back up, she winced in pain as she felt her one unbroken antler rip across the ceiling, gouging a deep tear in the headliner before scraping the metal underneath.  Her eyes went wide as she ducked down a little, getting short of breath as she felt the seat belt constricting her waist a bit more. She threw the driver's side door open with enough force to rock the truck on its springs.  Almost in a panic, she couldn't unfasten the tightening seat belt from around her midsection.  She yanked hard on the fabric and there was a loud snap, sending the poor jackalope tumbling out of the vehicle and onto the hot, sandy pavement of the desert road. She pushed herself up off of the ground, dusting off the sand as she stood.  Reaching out with one hand she slammed the door of the car shut in frustration, nearly causing the vehicle to roll over.  A slight wave of vertigo swept over her as she looked more closely at the still gently rocking cobalt blue truck.  It had always been about nose height on her, her eyes looking right over the top of it.  Now, however it was just shoulder height, and chest height a few seconds after that. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to calm herself and failing miserably.  “Okay.  I shouldn’t panic.  But...  I think I’m definitely panicking!  What?  Whatwhatwhatwhat?!” The slowly growing jackalope took a step back from the vehicle and immediately lost her balance.  The heel of her paw had extended back off of the rear of her sandal as she grew and offered no support as she toppled back and landed heavily on her rump! “OW! Mmmmf...”  She groaned, focused on the pain in her rear for a split second before realizing that the pain in her feet was increasing. She glared down at her paws, already a bit over-sized because of her species and now seemingly expanding by the second.  Her toes almost seemed to be inflating as they were constricted tighter and tighter by the sandal straps. It wasn't long before the tortured leather snapped and sent the soles flying from her big, fluffy paws to bounce off of the side of her truck. The cuffs of her blue denim jeans were rapidly retreating up her calves as the brass button on them snapped open.  She gasped, grabbing at her waist as the zipper tore itself apart.  Looking down, she could see  her t-shirt stretching itself rapidly into a halter top as her poor, straining bra was overflowed by her furry endowments.  There was an almost metallic snap as the tortured support device ended up lying useless atop the rapidly shredding denim stretched across her swelling thighs.

She blinked her big, pink eyes as her vision blurred.  The rising jackalope crossed her eyes to see a tiny pair of glasses lying flat atop her snout.  She leaned forwards a little and they slipped right off, landing with a soft clink atop her dwindling SUV.  Scrambling back away from the vehicle before she grew into it and caused serious damage, the newly minted macro realized that just one of her paws was now larger than the dependable vehicle that had carried her all the way out here just moments ago.  It was just a few seconds more before she realized that she was completely nude. In spite of her thick, fluffy fur keeping the giantess completely decent, she leaped to her feet with an earth-shaking boom, wrapping one arm over her chest and placing a hand over her crotch. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, the deep red blush forming beneath her white fur was easily visible.  

The giantess' shout echoed out across the empty vastness of the desert, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Embarrassment was quickly being overpowered by anger. She had come all of the way out here to give those so called bunny rescuers a piece of her mind.  Now she was in the middle of the desert, naked, and gigantic.  Frowning, she moved off of the road, into the soft yellow sand.  It was actually somewhat soothing to her aching paws as she started stomping her way towards her original destination. It wasn't long before the giant had reached her goal.  The so-called bunny shelter was just up ahead.  Inside the building, a ferret, a deer and a mouse were racing around, trying to catch various items that were falling from various rickety shelves as they were hit by what they thought was a minor earthquake.  As the tremors grew stronger they gave up on trying to save the toppling merchandise and quickly moved outside.  They froze in place as they gazed up at the fluffy giantess standing before them, tapping one massive paw impatiently on the sand.  They were practically throwing one another to the ground as they tried to make a run for it.  

“Oh no you don't!” Jillian boomed, lifting one huge, soft paw and plopping it down on the fleeing wannabe rescuers.  

She pinned them down against the warm sand as she hissed through gritted teeth, “I've been walking through the desert, my feet hurt, and you're staying RIGHT THERE until I get these poor bunnies out of here and to a REAL rescue shelter.”  The gigantic jackalope slowly slid her paw through the sand.  Bunching it up beside her huge foot, she ended up burying the workers partially in a pile of it, leaving their heads and arms free to cough and struggle. She turned her attention to the rickety metal building and shrugged.  Gripping the front edge of the tin roof in her powerful hands she started rolling it back like it was the lid of a huge tin of sardines.  Squinting her eyes as she peered through the gloom, her heart nearly broke as she saw hutches filled with bunnies everywhere, many of them in truly horrible shape. Casting about for some way to carry the poor things, she spied the company van sitting off to the side of the employee parking lot.  Crouching down beside the pile of sand, she grumbled out, “I should squash the lot of you for the way you've treated these poor babies, but instead, you're going to help fix things.”  

She used a finger to carefully dig out the employees who were still struggling in the sand.  “You're going to unlock the back of that van and you're carefully going to secure every last bunny hutch there is into the back of it.  Right now.” It took a bit of time to get everything loaded and the doors shut.  One of the workers, a slinky looking ferret started to open the driver's side door, “So, where we goin'?” Jillian slammed the door shut with a single fluffy finger.  It impacted the van with enough force to cave in the tough metal, making her wince internally.  She would have to be careful moving it with the bunnies inside.  

“WE aren't going anywhere.  I'm taking these poor things to a real rescue and you're all going to learn to care for bunnies properly.”  She gently scoops the van up in one hand, cradling it against her belly as she glared down at them all.  

“Because if I ever hear about this sort of thing happening again?”  She cocked one leg back and kicked the side of their main building.  There was an earsplitting bang accompanied by the tortured shriek of tearing metal.  Without the roof to help hold it in place, the corrugated metal wall shredded apart like tissue paper as her paw blasted through and slammed down inside.  She crushed desks, chairs, and filing cabinets flat against the concrete floor.  Turning her white, fuzzy tail towards the shocked furres and her nose up into the air, she slowly walked off into the desert to the north, her booming footsteps echoing into the distance.

Her towering legs were beginning to ache as it took a good half hour of walking before she reached her destination.  Car alarms were blaring all around her as she carefully picked her way through the suburbs around town.  She laid back her ears, trying to block out the piercing noise as she tried not to cause too much damage.  Finally, she carefully crouched down, lowering the van gently into the parking lot outside the Happy Hutch Bunny Rescue.  As lightly as she could, she used a claw tip to tap on the side of the building.  It was a young dog, a retriever of some kind from the look of it, who stepped outside and very nearly turned and ran right back in before Jillian called out for him to wait. “Hold on, please.  There are some rabbits in the back of this van in pretty bad shape.  They really need your help.” Reaching out, she ripped the rear of the van open, no longer caring about any damage done to the vehicle.  Seeing the shape that the rabbits within were in, he quickly called the rest of the staff on his radio.  The motley assortment of workers formed a sort of fireman's bucket brigade to get the hutches full of injured rabbits inside the facility as quickly as possible. The giant jackalope smiled brightly and sighed, rubbing absently at the stump of her broken antler as she felt that this was a job well done.  She crouched down above the crew, telling them, “Thank you all so much for your help.” Rising back up to her full towering height, she looked down at the van for a moment.  “Oh yeah, you guys might want to call the number on the side of that thing so they can come get it back.”  Shrugging a shoulder, she then carefully picked her way back through the sprawling suburbs and back out into the desert.

It was nearly sunset when Jillian finally saw the deep blue blur of her truck in the distance. Everything as far as she could see was a brilliant orange hue that the sunset cast upon the sand.  She was completely exhausted, her feet hurt horribly, and more than anything she really wanted to just go home. “Wait.  What the hell am I going to do when I get home?  I can't even fit in my yard, much less my house at this size!”

Feeling utterly defeated, she slumped her way closer to the vehicle, then blinked as she realized that it didn't seem to be getting any closer as she approached.  Was it a mirage?  Was she actually lost somewhere in the middle of the desert? Her heart leaped in her chest as she realized the reason it didn't seem to be getting closer.  She was shrinking!  She was finally returning to normal!  Whatever it was that had caused her to grow into a macro must have finally worn off.  She breathed a huge sigh of relief as she picked up the pace, hurrying back to her truck. She reached it just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first chill of the desert evening started to creep in. She stared at the road near her truck in awe.  The pavement was cracked and broken, crushed into the shape of a huge paw.  Her ruined sandals were flung to the side of the road underneath the truck and a few scattered rags were all that remained of her ruined clothing.  

She headed back over to her truck, for once in her life actually glad she had left the keys in the ignition. She was just about to wonder if she should risk driving without her glasses when a soft glint of reflected moonlight caught her eye.  She gave a little whoop of joy as she stood on tiptoe for a second, ignoring the pain in her calves as she grabbed her glasses from the roof of the truck where they had landed earlier and slipped them on. The bridge a little bent, but she could easily tighten them when she got home!  She sighed happily to herself as she perched her glasses atop her muzzle, smiling to herself.  A feeling of contentment and a job well done gave her peace of mind as Jillian slipped behind the wheel of the old blue Cherokee and started home.

The End?

[foxykey]

Unfavorable

HoshixOC

Word Count: 2.3K

Friendly Favor drabble

On second thought, maybe asking Hoshi for such a big favor wasn’t the best idea after all...

A/N: this is just a little drabble that sits between Friendly Favor and the upcoming Party Favor. I guess you could call it part 1.5. Thank you all for the amazing love and support you’ve given this series! Your feedback is wonderful and greatly appreciated as always!

------

Nahyun pushed in through her apartment door, bursting the silence beyond to pieces as she shuffled inside and began setting her things down. When she’d dropped her keys in the bowl by the door, she sighed heavily and covered her face with her hands. Then she ran her fingers up into her hair and paused a long minute, staring at the ceiling.

Nahyun was honestly at a loss. She felt drained, mentally and emotionally exhausted, but at the same time her body was restless. She needed to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. Her limbs were tingling with the need for exertion and there was a whirlwind of thoughts whipping around in the back of her head. They were heavy and overwhelming, but they were so many and they sped by at such speed that she couldn’t even try to pick one out to try and figure it out. Nahyun settled on just taking a shower and getting ready for bed. The hot water had to help calm her and she just needed to slow down and relax.

The apartment was quiet and peaceful. Despite it being past ten at night, she was home alone as it was Jeonghan’s long shift at work. He wouldn’t be back until past midnight or one in the morning so she didn’t have to worry about him whining at her to hurry.

Steam filled the bathroom, billowing from the shower head in plumes. Nahyun stood under the scalding water, relishing the heat raining down on her and soaking her hair.

The shower had done its job of relaxing her, but now the problem was that it had done too well. Now, under the soothing spray, the whirlwind in her mind was beginning to slow and with it came a stream of subconscious thought she had not intended on facing.

Oh god, she had just gone down on her friend. One of her closest friends. On Soonyoung. Soonyoung, Hoshi, Hosh… the guy she teasingly called her little star, who she hung out with almost every day and who made her laugh so hard her cheeks hurt and who went out of his way to drop off her favorite order of coffee on mornings she was running late.

And she had blown him.

Her brain was now vomiting up anxious recollections for her to stress over in vain after the act. She remembered how she’d asked him and embarrassment filled her. She must’ve seemed so pathetic and desperate and he had probably only said yes out of pity. Nahyun thought of how stupid she must’ve sounded, so inexperienced. Thinking back on everything that happened now, so far out of the heat of the moment, it all seemed shameful and unbelievable at the same time. Or… maybe it wasn’t that bad? It couldn’t have been that bad. He’d cum, she had made him cum. So, he must’ve enjoyed it at least to some degree… 

Then, completely and utterly unbidden, her mind dredged up a vivid memory of the sound that had passed Soonyoung’s lips as he’d cum. He had been trying to warn her, in the middle of a sentence. His voice had pitched high, ending almost in a whimper. The thought brought with it a renewed surge of heat.

Nahyun snapped the water off and threw open the shower curtain. She forced herself to stop thinking, to just focus on getting dry, wrapping her hair in a towel, grabbing the toothpaste. As she began brushing her teeth, a small thought about what the last taste in her mouth had been needled at her, but she hurriedly slapped it away and finished rinsing.

Dressing was easily done on autopilot, throwing on her oversized sleep shirt, and while she combed out her hair she counted strokes. Then she meticulously narrated the steps in her skin care routine to herself as she applied the different creams.

At last she was tucked in her bed, staring at the ceiling, willing herself to fall asleep quickly. But that strange pent up energy had returned, crawling outwards down her arms and legs from the pit of her stomach.

Soonyoung’s final plea, ending in a whine played in her mind again. She remembered the addictive sense of power she’d held over him. It had been hot. Even now thinking back on it again it still was. Heat flashed between her legs.

Fuck it.

Nahyun’s hand slipped under the waistband of her panties to touch herself. She was impatient and needy, getting right to the point.

Now unhindered, her brain shotgunned out recollections from earlier that night at incredible speed, fueling her, feeding her desire.

That whine just as he’d exploded in her mouth sounded in her ears again. His dark, hooded gaze watching her work between his legs; she could almost see it through her lashes again. She could feel the weight of him on her tongue. Her mind replayed how his stomach muscles had twitched with restraint, how his voice had dropped into a deep, guttural moan because she was making him feel so good. Nahyun remembered how his hand had tightened in her hair, nails scraping against her skull as he unconsciously tugged. She recalled how roughly he had kissed her, almost eager to taste himself on her tongue. His thighs shaking with exertion. Asking her to look up at him. His head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, sweat dotting his hairline. Lips parted, warning her, practically begging for two contradictory things. And then that whimper. That high-pitched whine and the splash of salty bitterness coating her mouth.

Nahyun came with a gasp, her two fingers swiping gently over her center as she came down. Her breath was stilted, body hot and overtired. Then guilt began itching at the back of her skull for what she had just done. God, if Soonyoung knew… 

She turned to hide her face in the pillow with a whimper and sleep finally took mercy on her soul and consumed her.

---

The smell of coffee hit Nahyun as soon as she stepped into the hallway. She found her roommate sitting at the small kitchen table with a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Nahyun regretted not waiting until Jeonghan had left for his first class. Not that she disliked her roommate, in fact quite the opposite. They were very close and he was easy to be with; equally willing to party down or chill. But Jeonghan was quick and observant, to a fault, and just seeing him filled Nahyun with a strange sense of panic.

Just relax, he has no idea anything is wrong. Nothing is wrong. Just be normal.

She hummed a sleepy good morning and he nodded back. Nahyun filled a mug with coffee.

“If you’re making toast or something, make me one, too, please,” Jeonghan said, not bothering to glance up at her.

Nahyun rolled her eyes. “You’re such a leech.”

“You’re the one who told me I was forbidden from ever cooking again. Plus, I made coffee, pull your weight.”

She let the issue go and began scrambling some eggs to go with the toast. For a long peaceful few minutes there was silence and Nahyun got wrapped up in her cooking. She was just finishing the eggs when Jeonghan spoke again.

“You went to bed early last night,” he said. “You’re usually up waiting for me watching trash tv. Did you feel all right?”

Nahyun panicked for a moment, but finished serving the eggs on toast, reminding herself there was no way he could know. “Yeah, fine. I was just tired.”

It was the millisecond pause that did her in. Jeonghan at last glanced up from his phone to look at her. She busied herself with her task, pretending not to notice. Nahyun swallowed hard and willed the flush of heat down from her cheeks.

Please, please, please let it go. Just let it go, for fuck’s sake!

Jeonghan put his phone face down on the table. “Something happened.”

Goddamn it.

“Nothing happened,” Nahyun said, still not looking at him as she set the plates down and took a seat.

“Something definitely happened. What happened?” he asked, leaning forward to try and look into her face.

She avoided him, ducking her head to scoop up some eggs. “Nothing. What are you talking about? Everything’s fine.”

Wrong thing to say. Jeonghan pushed his plate aside to try and make her look up at him.

“Tell me. Come on, tell me what happened,” he insisted.

“It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing then just tell me.”

“Jeonghan, you’re being ridiculous. I’m fine. I came home last night, I was tired, I took a shower, and I went to bed. That’s it.”

“What happened before you got home? What were you doing?” Jeonghan inquired, digging deeper. “Was it something at work?”

“No, work is fine. It’s not a big-”

“Did you get into a fight with your mom or something? Or, oh! Did your older sister call to give you crap about something stupid?”

“It wasn’t-”

“Oh, oh! You ran into your ex.”

“Jeonghan…”

“No, wait, I know! Maybe-”

“I blew Hoshi!”

There was a beat of silence and Jeonghan sat back heavily in his chair, blinking at her. Nahyun had just blurted it out, but now she sat staring at her friend, waiting for his reaction like a deer in headlights.

“You slept with Hoshi?” Jeonghan asked.

“We didn’t have sex, it was just a blow job. It-” Nahyun cut off and waved a hand as if erasing everything and starting over. “He was doing me a favor.”

“You went down on him and he was doing you a favor?”

“I was at his apartment and we were hanging out and I had been caught up on this conversation I’d had that morning about sex with Jiwoo and Chanmi and he kept asking me what was wrong, so I told him about how I was worried that since I’d never given a blow job before that I might be bad at it and then I asked if I could, you know, practice and he could give me advice.” She took in a deep breath after the run on sentence. Jeonghan just stared at her, not saying anything. She shrugged, acting quite a bit more nonchalant than she felt. “It was just a friend doing another friend a favor. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” he repeated, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s not it.”

“That is it!” Nahyun insisted. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was just… just a-a thing! To get experience.”

Jeonghan eyed her a second longer, then lifted a finger. “First of all, you shouldn’t be worried or embarrassed about not knowing some sex stuff. It’s perfectly okay to learn as you go and whoever your partner is when that happens should be cool with it.” Nahyun gave him an appreciative smile, which he returned. Then he lifted a second finger and continued, looking scandalized, “Second, I’m personally offended that you didn’t ask me to give you blow job pointers. Very rude and inconsiderate of you, to be honest.”

“What? Jeonghan! Gross,” Nahyun said, smacking his hand down. “Why would I ask you to teach me to give a bj?”

“Um, I’m your roommate and your best friend? Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to get anywhere near your dick.”

“But you did want to get near Hoshi’s dick…” he drawled, grinning as he set his trap.

Nahyun floundered for a moment, blushing. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told you it wasn’t like that. It just… came up and he was there and we’re good friends-”

“So are we, but I’m not an option?”

“No. You would gloat and be a total ass about it. I can trust Soonyoung to be sweet and not hold it over me.”

“Okay, again, I’m heavily offended, but…” Jeonghan let the sentence dangle and watched her carefully as he drank from his coffee mug. “So how was it?”

She stood, taking her half-eaten plate up. “It was okay. He said I did good, so, no worries.”

“And after?”

“What about after?”

“Did you guys talk? Did something else happen?”

She swallowed, lingering at the garbage where she was scraping the remainder of her eggs. She remembered him grabbing her roughly and kissing her, remembered how his tongue had felt pushing along her own to get a taste of himself. She shook herself out of it.

“No, nothing,” Nahyun said, moving towards the sink. “I told you, it was just a favor.”

Jeonghan was staring at her back, she could feel his eyes on her. “Nana, come on. You’re gonna tell me everything just stayed exactly the same? You didn’t feel anything?”

She swallowed. Nahyun felt her neck heating up and she thought of what she’d done when she had gotten home last night. “It was just for practice.”

“Nana…”

“I told you, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Didn’t you used to-”

The dishes clattered heavily into the sink and Nahyun turned on her heel to exit the kitchen. “I have to get ready for my class, I’m gonna be late.”

She left Jeonghan sitting in the kitchen, his question only half asked. Nahyun refused to think of how he was going to end it and she didn’t emerge until she had heard her roommate leave for the day, taking his questions with him.

[mattzerella-sticks]

A Dumb Idea (1.4 k, coda to 14x15 “The Last Holiday”, Sam & Dean, Dean/Cas)

(ao3)

They celebrated Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, birthdays, even the Fourth of July. What about the other holidays? What about Valentine's Day?

Mrs. Butters actually had a plan for that, but she left before it could come to fruition. Sam, however, stumbles on Dean and a leftover piece from said plan. Something Dean would rather Sam not see. When he does get a peek as to what it is, well... Dean and Sam have a lot to talk about.

           Sam didn’t intend this. He called Dean’s name, first. Except his brother didn’t react. Head bowed, headphones on as he studied something before him. Music loud enough Sam faintly heard it from the kitchen’s entrance. Easily obscuring his footsteps as Sam approached, curious.

           Moving closer, Sam saw a pencil in Dean’s hand. Wrinkled paper waiting underneath it. Marred with illegible words. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “What are you writing?”

           Dean jumped, headphones slipping off his head. Zeppelin blaring, echoing across the room until his brother slammed a fist on his mp3. “Christ, Sammy,” Dean turned, glaring. Both hands covered the folded paper, pencil forgotten as it rolled away. “Don’t do that! Could’ve had a heart attack.”

           “You have a better chance at going deaf than having a heart attack, Dean.”

           “At least then Eileen could teach me sign language,” he said, bending forward. Somehow maintaining eye contact with Sam. “And we can gossip behind your back with complicated, advanced signing that you can’t do because of your big moose hooves.”

           Snorting, Sam brushed the insult aside. He won’t be distracted that easy. “What are you doing?” he asked, again, “What are you writing?”

           Dean’s lip twitched. His gaze flit between the paper and Sam. “I’m not writing anything.” The pencil, thrown from the table’s edge, landed with a guilty clatter. “Okay, I was writing something,” Dean admit, dragging the page towards him, “It’s… a grocery list.”

           “Groceries?”

           “Yeah, those things you buy?” Dean rose with a nervous giggle, the paper pressed against his chest, “Mrs. Butters wasn’t here for that long Sam, you must remember food doesn’t naturally poof out of thin air. So I set to taking stock of what we needed and… actually, I just finished.” He inched backwards, Sam trailing after him. “Might as well go and get the groceries, now that I have the… the list.”

           Sam shrugged, grinning, “That makes sense.”

           “It does, doesn’t it?”

           A beat later, Sam pounced. Dean, anticipating his attack, spun on his heel. Sam’s chest colliding with his back, blanketing it. But Dean hadn’t considered his next move, because the kitchen island blocked any attempt at escape. Trapped between Sam and it, all he could do was play defense while Sam used every dirty trick on making his brother let go. Because Sam already ran through the scenario in his head, planning for this moment. From the second he saw Dean hide that paper.

           It wasn’t what he intended; Dean left him no choice.

           He tickles, he pinches, and he pulls. Finally, Dean surrenders his hold on the paper. Sam snatches it and bolts, his brother chasing him. “Sammy!”

           “Grocery list my ass!” he yells behind him, skidding around a turn in the hall. Narrowly avoiding Dean’s fist, laughing as he slams into the wall Sam avoided. “Let’s see what you were really writing…” His eyes scan the front of the paper, reading aloud what Dean scrawled in bright red ink. “I never really believed in angels,” he says, slowing, “until I met you.”

           Dean slams into him, both sent tumbling. They lie on their backs, panting, the paper in Sam’s hand with Dean’s creeping closer. Sam feels it go taut as Dean grabs hold, yet he won’t fight further. Perhaps afraid of ruining what’s there. Of the cheesy pick-up line titling his inner thoughts, bookended by doodled wings and a giant, colored heart stamped on the bottom.

           “Really,” Sam gasps, “you got so worked up over that.” His body burns with exhaustion, having overexerted himself. Although not really. Sam should be more concerned with his stamina, except there were other matters that need his attention.

           “Shut up…” Dean’s cheeks were red, from embarrassment, exercise, or a combination of both. “Shit’s personal.”

           “And grade school,” Sam says. He lurches into a seated position, Dean popping up alongside him. Neither letting go, still. “What are you doing writing a Valentine’s Day card?”

           “Why does anyone write a Valentine’s Day card, Sam?” Dean stares at his feet, thinking. The grip on his end goes slack, hand falling to his side. “Read it.”

           Sam hesitates. “Are you sure?”

           “You’ve already seen enough,” he sighs, pinching his brow. “Come on. Do it, before I change my mind.”

           Noting the twinges of irritation threaded into his voice, Sam knows he won’t have long. He flicks it open, first three letters stealing his breath. Glancing at Dean, he sees his brother curled. Physically making himself smaller, like Dean could disappear if he tried hard enough. Sam keeps his initial thoughts silent, saving it for the end.

           Which was the right choice. If the first word were a seed, then the rest of his message was the flower. Each sentence like a petal that together created a beautiful image. Of a secret love. Simmering feelings, strengthening over time. Insecurities laid bare that Sam had expected yet never confirmed until now. A simple plea – a prayer – that leaves him raw, despite the words having come from someone else.

           Sam closes it, wiping at his eyes. “I…” he clears his throat, “Wow. You were planning on giving this to Cas?”

           “Yes…” Dean pouts, snatching the card from Sam. He lets Dean take it. “Maybe, I – I don’t know.”

           “But you wrote it,” Sam says, “Did you… did you mean it? Everything?”

           “Of course I did!” He waves the card about, snarling, “If I didn’t mean it, it wouldn’t be there.”

           Nodding, Sam slides closer. Throws an arm around Dean, tugging him into a loose hug. “How long have you been sitting on this?”

           “On the feelings or the card?”

           “The card.”

           Dean relaxes, leaning on Sam. “A few days now. You were getting ready for your date with Eileen and, well… when Mrs. Butters was still here, she was going on about the next holiday we should celebrate. With Eileen here, maybe invite her over and do a whole Valentine’s Day dinner…” He chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. “And I was eating some of her snickerdoodles, and she looked at me. Clucked her tongue and said how it’d be perfect to set me up with a girl as good as Eileen. I… don’t know if it was because I was in such a good mood, or it was easier, explaining to a stranger, but it all came – it came rushing out. I couldn’t stop myself. Then… when I was finished… y’know what she did? She magicked up that paper and the – the pencil back in the kitchen. And said I should put everything I said down there. Invite Cas over and then give it to him.”

           Sam braves a smile for both of them. “Sounded like it would have been fun.”

           “No,” Dean says, “it wouldn’t. Because then Cas would read my card and… and he’d know how I really feel.”

           “That’s a problem?”

           “It’s a problem if he doesn’t feel the same!” He throws Sam off of him, scrambling to his feet. Sam stands, too. “I have all these big, awful, disgusting… intense, amazing, fantastic feelings for him, but what if that’s where it ends. That for him I…” Dean shudders, body shaking. “I’m just a friend. And this whole time I’ve been imagining more than what was there. Hoping that maybe, the reason we always found our way back to each other, was because we were meant to.”

           “Dean,” Sam starts, cautiously approaching him. Gentle, like he was a wild deer. Skittish, alert for any surprises. “You won’t know if you don’t try… I’m sure that, when Cas sees that, he’ll be happy. More than happy!”

           “You don’t know,” Dean says, lifting the card. Scowling, he holds it on either side. “This was a dumb idea anyway… I shouldn’t have ever listened to her.”

           “Dean, don’t –“

           He rips it. Rips it again. A third time, and many more after that until confetti rains from his fingers. Sam watches this happen with a pit in his stomach, all of Dean’s hard work disappearing in an instant. Resolve crumbling as fast.

           Dean sniffs, swiping his nose. “Let’s… forget this ever happened, okay Sammy?” he says, stalking down the hall, “Got more important things we should be focusing on anyway…”

           He disappears, footfalls echoing until those, too, end. Sam stays, staring at the pile of shreds.

           Sam bends, sweeping them into his hands. Makes sure they’re all there. Then he heads towards his room.

           Cas is due back soon, anyway. If Sam acts quickly, at least some of what Dean wrote can reach him. Enough for them to have the conversation that’s been looming overhead for years now. The clock is ticking, and Sam will be damned if it runs out on those two.

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XXIV. Un Suspiro Acompasado

A/N: Guys I’m back! I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the patience and the kind message, you guys are amazing and I feel lucky you read me x 

BLUE’S POV

My eyes are left adrift in front of the mirror. I’m combing my hair and my makeup is done and I’m wearing the red lipstick Marie got me for Christmas but I’m hardly seeing anything beyond the memories of better times that blurry my vision. It’s only been four days since I know nothing from Harry but they’ve felt like ages.

I hate myself for missing him so bad but the only thing I need to stop myself from crawling back to him is thinking about his indifference. I don’t understand why he was so insisting and desperate for me to hear him out during Christmas and just forgot all about me right after I finally did.

I’d love to say things have gone back to normal, that everything is right back on its place as if it had never happened since he’s not following me around and messing everything up but that just wouldn’t be true. It’s like I lost something that has changed me forever and I just don’t know where to look for it now.

When I’ve brushed all of my hair twice, I open the bathroom door and find Coco going through my earrings. She’s wearing a golden silk dress that makes her look like the human form of a flute of champagne but she gives me a panic look.

“I don’t know what earrings to wear.”

I roll my eyes and try to help her. I suck at choosing jewellery which is why I always wear the same earrings and the same necklace my Mum got me when I started studying Medicine but I stand there in the role of emotional support.

I can see my profile on the full body length mirror in the door of my wardrobe. I’m wearing a black sequin tight dress with long sleeves but backless. There’s a single button that rests over my seventh vertebra where the fabric that covers both my shoulders joins but then there’s no more sequins and no more fabric at all until the dress hugs the lowest part of my back, right where my underwear begins.

It's New Years Eve and everyone’s ready for the new year to begin even though I don’t believe that anybody wants this year to end more than I do.

“¡Niñas!” (Girls!) My mum calls for us from downstairs. “¿Estáis listas?” (Are you ready?”

“¡Sí!” Coco yells uncouthly and I give her a look but she just chuckles. “Me encanta ser ordinaria cuando llevo ropa cara.” (I love to act vulgar when I wear expensive clothes). She giggles. “You should try it, it’s funny.”

I chuckle along with her as we both make our way downstairs. My mum looks like one of our friends with that black dress she’s wearing. Her long black hair is down and naturally wavy and Coco did a very nice job with her makeup; smokey eyes and nude lipstick.

“Estás guapísima, mamá.” (You look gorgeous, mum.)

“¿Qué dices? Tú sí que estás guapísima. Las dos lo estáis.” (What are you talking about? You look gorgeous. You both do.)

Mum’s driving us to our party before she leaves for hers and sitting in the back of the car, I can see how much of a resemblance there is between my mum and my sister. It’s almost scary for my mum looks like a future Coco and I think I can’t wait for Coco to be 57 years old to find out if they’re really alike.

I get excited on the way to the club. I’ve decided I’m gonna have a good time and not think about Harry. I’ve had enough of that and what has to be will be but there won’t be any rushing of things on my part and I’m guessing on his either.

I’m excited to see Olivia. She came back from France in the morning and JJ and Marie are also gonna be there. Marie’s bringing Adam but nobody said anything about Harry and I didn’t ask either and Olivia’s got herself a date with Mario. Apparently, they’ve been talking ever since Jack did the ass move of the year and Ollie seemed pretty excited on the phone earlier.

Coco and I make our way inside the majestic hotel the party is taking place and give our coats to the cloakroom girl. My gorgeous looking sister holds my hand and guides me across the hall and towards the second room where soft music plays around fairy lights. I spot our group standing around a tall table.

I hug my friends. They all look ridiculously gorgeous. Olivia wears her blond hair perfectly straightened and falling on her chest and back over the little precious stones that adorn her silver cocktail dress and Marie wears her signature bun with a little black dress with a see-through neckline that fits her perfectly; sexy but safe, so to say.

Turning around, I see Jason pretending to be gladly surprised by my looks, and I chuckle and shake my head.

“Looking good in that white suit jacket, JJ.”

He smiled.

“I have to stand out, you know? I’m single now.”

“Damn right you are.” I grab a champagne flute from the waiter that walks right behind me. “And I’ll drink to that.”

He laughs.

“Now seriously, you look like you just came out of The Great Gatsby.”

“Except there’s no Leonardo Dicaprio.”

“Except that.” Jason smiles.

“How are you?” Olivia’s hand rests on my lower back and I give her a smile.

“I’m good, thank you.” I frown but smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know.” She shrugs and gives Marie a SOS look. “I was wondering how you were holding up after… The breakup.”

“What breakup now?” I look at Marie.

Her lips part in a small oh and her eyes open wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“You know, Adam and I talk.” She shrugs.

“You mean Adam and you mind everybody’s business.”

“Harry told him you guys were not seeing each other anymore.” She frowns.

I feel a punch on the pit of my belly.

“Yeah, that’s right. We… We aren’t.” But I pretend I am long past it even though they just confirmed what I thought was happening.  

“And you’re… Just okay with that?” Ollie frowns.

“Yes!” Everyone’s frowning. “What, guys? Why are you making such a big deal? It’s fine. I’m just worried I won’t find sex like that in a while.” I fake giggle.

“Was it really that good?” Jason intervenes for the first time in what feels like a very long, very embarrassing interrogation.

“I mean… Never mind.” I chuckle.

“No, it does mind. Do share.”

“It was just the way he… Like kind of worshipped my body, you know, but like all of it.” I shrug. “I felt…”

“Loved.”

“Desired.” I correct Marie but she purses her lips to hide her smile and raises her eyebrows.

I shake my head and try to derail the conversation.

“What about you, Ollie? How are you?”

Ever since Jack said those things about her, she’s been struggling not to bump into someone who already knew. It’s strange how those ridiculous things run like gunpowder but it’s not new that a lot of girls didn’t like Olivia already and I guess this kind of was the perfect way to finally humiliate her.

“I’m fine.”

She smiles for as if on cue, Mario appears with two drinks on his hands and gives one to her. The way her body melted and made room for him surprises me. My God, she’s smitten and she’s Olivia and this is so cute to behold.

“Oh, hello, Indie. Happy New Year. If I had known you were here I would have gotten you a drink. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” I hug him. “Happy New Year to you too.”

He stands next to Olivia but turns in conversation with Jason and I notice Marie is nowhere to be found. Coco and Guido seem to be in their own bubble but I’ll have to go say hi when they don’t look so cosy.

“Where did Marie go?”

“She’s probably with Adam.” She shrugs. “I’m thinking about broadening my horizons.” She goes back to my first question it seems.

“Broadening your horizons? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know… These weeks in France have been wonderful. I was thinking maybe transferring to Paris or something.”

“But like- forever?” I panic.

She shrugs, holding back a little smirk.

“But you can’t leave! I mean, wouldn’t you miss us? And what about Mario? You finally start a relationship and now you’re leaving him?”

“Mario would have to understand. If he didn’t, that would be a total deal breaker. Plus, we’re not even in a relationship or at least not in the traditional kind of relationship. We’re both free humans who-”

“You’re not in an open relationship with Mario, are you?”

I’m not being judgemental. I have no problems at all with open relationships it’s just Mario doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy fitted for that. I mean he told me himself he falls very quickly and I could see how heartbroken he was about Olivia’s rejection so I’m just afraid he’s told her yes because he would take whatever it is she’s willing to give.

My friend nods proudly and I face palm.

“Oh God, Ollie, you’re gonna hurt him.”

“What? Why? Not at all!”

“Wasn’t it your idea then?”

“No, it was, but this is what’s best for us. I’m not in my best moment” her blue eyes beg for my understanding and support- she’ll always have the second “and this will be good for him too. He’s a little too traditional if we’re being fully honest here-”

I disconnect but I let her talk because I already understood. She’s scared because she really likes him and this is just her way of trying to run away from it. Thinking about going to France, having an open relationship… God, she just really doesn’t want to let herself fall in love.

“Why are you smiling like that?” She frowns.

I chuckle and give her a knowing look and she just squints pretending she can’t read my mind at this point.

“You think you’re some sort of guru, alright, I get it.”

I throw my head back and laugh but my laughing cuts short as soon as Harry appears in my visual opening. He wears a black suit with a white shirt and a fucking black bow tie that really makes him look like The Great Gatsby I used to picture in my mind when I read the book.

The air gets kicked out of my lungs with every step he takes because he looks so dreamy and I know everyone has noticed but for the rest of people in this room he’s just a handsome man. He’s so much more to me.

From the corner of my eyes, I watch him greet everybody. He takes a little extra time talking to Coco and that makes me nervous. I don’t want to be a narcissistic asshole but I can’t help considering they might be talking about me. I yearn for hearing him say my name and see how his lips hug the u in Blue when everybody else calls me Indie.

Before I can process what’s happening, he’s stopped in front of me and his green eyes are setting mine on flames. My belly flips and he hasn’t even touched me but it’s like he’s putting all these memories inside my head with that stare and in my mind, all these images are playing… Us in the shower, him making breakfast, us watching a movie, him driving me home…

He doesn’t say anything but I know he likes my dress by the way he’s smirking. He leans in and I feel his warm hand against my bare back as he presses a kiss on my cheek.

“Why are you always so cold?” He frowns.

“I’m an ice floe, don’t you remember?”

“As lovely as usual.” He smirks. “Some things never change.”

“Wait, we’re talking to one another, right? What we’re not doing is seeing each other or so does Marie said because apparently Adam told her you told him. That’s three people, Harry, it takes three people for me to know something I should have known from you.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Well-”

“You’re the one who stopped talking to me.”

I frown. That’s not even true but before I can tell him, Olivia’s hand rests on my shoulder and she almost yells.

“You won’t believe what just happened! Oh, hi, Harry, nice to see you, nice bow tie.” She gives him a smile that lasts a second and then turns back to me. “I was at the bar and this ridiculously hot guy was talking to his friend about you!”

“About me?” I frown. “What do you mean?”

“He literally told his friend ´Indigo Anderson is here, I just saw her´”

“And that’s it?” I laugh.

“He was very handsome.” Her blue eyes widen and I laugh again.

Harry’s still standing there but his jaw is clenched and his shoulders have tensed up. I don’t understand him. He has decided to break up with me, even though there was nothing to break, and hasn’t even had the decency to tell me about it and now he seems not to like that this very handsome stranger knows I’m here? Well, he should have thought twice.

“That’s him!” Ollie says, pointing at the middle of the room with her big grey eyes. “That’s the one.”

Eric Buchanan’s eyes meet mine. I give him a teasing smile and see the corner of his eyes crackle. It’s been a while since Harry doesn’t seem that happy to see me and instead he’s just standing there tensed like a wooden man and I’ve had enough of this so I just make my way towards Eric. He takes the clue and makes his way towards me too so we meet in the middle. Funny how I seem to be unable to do that with Harry.

“Fuck me if it isn’t Indigo Blue Anderson, the soul of every party.” He smiles.

“I’m pretty sure I should be offended but your sarcastic tone is really not sarcastic at all.” I smile back.

“That’s because I wasn’t being sarcastic, miss.” He smiles. “You know I was checking the photos the photographer took at my birthday the other day and he took some while you were honouring me with your dancing” I roll my eyes but he keeps on smiling “and I gotta say they’re pretty good shots.”

“Well your hip movement was kind of hypnotizing” I try mimic his crazy movements and make him blush but he laughs.

“Yeah, wasn’t really talking about that.”

“You’re too flattering, Eric.”

“You remember my name.” He smiles.

“You think I’m an idiot?”

“No” he laughs “I just think you’re way out of my league.”

“Still too flattering.”

He chuckles. I notice his eyes look somewhere behind me and then back at me for enough times to make me curious, so I raise my eyebrows questioningly.

“Trouble in paradise?”

I tilt my neck and spot Harry glaring at us from the spot where he pretends to be paying attention to Mario and Adam and I roll my eyes. I don’t even have to change the topic because one of Eric’s friends pulls from his shoulder and all but yells that they’re taking a group photo. His lips turn upside down as he points at his friend on his back but I dismiss him with a smile and a shake of my hand.

“I will however catch you later.”

“You seem so sure of it.” I joke.

Am I flirting? Oh my God, I think I’m flirting. What am I doing?

My throat is dry. I need a drink. I turn around and I can tell I’m frowning when Marie hands me a drink. I look down at it and realize it’s probably gin and tonic.

“Thanks.” I have a sip. Yeah, Bulldog and Mediterranean.

“Way to go, girl.” Ollie frowns impressed next to me.

“What?”

“That’s probably what you need.” Marie adds. “After all, the quickest way to get over one man is…”

“What? No! We were just talking.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what most people do when they flirt.”

“We weren’t flirting!”

Or at least they can’t know that, they didn’t hear us. Looking over at Eric, I realize he is indeed a very, very handsome man. He’s tall too and his body is just very manly and I think under any other circumstances, I would be attracted to him. I mean- am I attracted to him now? Why wouldn’t I be? He’s objectively very attractive. I don’t want to fall into that path. I don’t want not to be attracted to him because the thought of Harry is still clouding my judgement. Is it true? Am I never going to feel as alive as I did with him? I need to stop thinking these stupid things.

“Can we just stop talking about men?”

“Amen” Jason agrees as he joins us. “Let’s just celebrate that we are still together for the new year and that that is how things are going to be.”

“Amen” Ollie raises her glass and the four of us cling our glasses together for that. “And that we are repeating for the third year Marie’s beach house tradition.”

“Woho!”

“About that though” Marie bites her bottom lip.

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re cancelling.”

“I’m not.” Marie stops Jason right there and he sighs bringing his hand to his chest. “It’s just… I know for the past three years it’s just been the four of us but I was thinking… Maybe this year… Adam could join?”

The three of us just stand there with our lips parted. We’re being unsupportive, I can tell that much; but it’s just… That weekend is always being just for the four of us. It’s The Golden Girls’ getaway and the thought of having a guy joining just… But it is her house.

“I know it might sound strange to you guys but” Marie leans closer to us so she can whisper the next part “Adam and I haven’t… Had sex yet. I think that weekend at the beach… You know with the fireplace, the marshmallows… It might be romantic and it might just be the time.”

“With all of us there?” I horrify. “I mean, he’s probably just nervous or even shy about it, do you think it’s going to help him to have the three of us around?”

“Wait, what if we postpone our weekend away?” Ollie suggests, pleasing no parties involved.  

“No!” Jason frowns. “Come on, this is the perfect weekend! After that we have practice and we can’t just get pissed for three days straight… Come on, Marie, I need this.”

“No, I don’t want to cancel or postpone it. I want you guys there.” She panics.

“What- like an orgy?” Ollie’s eyes open wide.

“No, you maniac!” Marie blushes. “But… Listen, this is getting to me, alright? It’s been very long since I don’t have sex and… I don’t know what to do and Adam’s got… You know… His things… And I might need urgent emotional support, emergency Golden Girls’ meeting in the kitchen, you know?”

Her puppy eyes always work. I bite my bottom lip and almost hear Jason’s wheels turning on his mind.

“I got it.” Jason says. “You know how it would probably be a little awkward for him to spend an entire weekend with his girlfriend’s crazy friends on his own, right?”

Marie nods with sad puppy eyes as if she also had thought about it but didn’t know what to do about that.

“But” J’s brows raise on his forehead “you know what would make it a lot easier for him?”

She shakes her head. I can’t believe we’re letting JJ be so dramatic. This is what he loves.

“Having his best friends around, just like you, and isn’t it such a good thing that his best friends happen to be Ollie’s guy and Harry?”

“I am not inviting Harry.” I interfere.

Jason’s eyes set on me while he gives me a long, hard, severe stare.

“Are you seriously telling me you’re not willing to put your stupid fight away for your best friend to bone his best friend who is also her boyfriend with erectile disfunction?”

Marie shushes him as the three of them give me all their attention.

“Well, fine, invite him. I won’t be going then.”

“What? No, dude!” Marie pleads. “I really need you there.”

“Oh, come on! I’ll pretend we’re fucking if you will” Jason shrugs “because I mean Mario is fun but he’s probably going to be cuddling Ollie 24/7 so it’d really just be you and me.”

“And Adam and me.” Marie raises her eyebrows.

“You two are gonna be boning.”

“Well maybe we don’t do anything.”

“What do you mean? Of course you will! He’s a guy, I bet he’s dying to bone you.”

“Can you just stop saying bone?” Marie scolds him. “He hasn’t… He hasn’t even touched me. And he hasn’t told me about… The… E.D. problem yet…”

“Wait, so then how do you know?” Ollie frowns.

“Harry told me.”

“What? I can’t believe him! Isn’t he supposed to be his best friend?”

“Hey, calm down! That’s why he told me. He was just worried about him… He’s actually a really good guy.”

I glare at her. I can’t believe after all the shit she’s giving me, she’s backing him now that he broke up with me.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Ollie asks.

“To whom?”

“To Adam.”

“I don’t want to put Harry on the spot.”

“Since when do you care about Harry? What the fuck is this, Marie? You’ve been giving me shit about him since I met him and now that he finally broke my heart like you said he would he turns into an angel in your eyes?”

“What did you just say?”

My blood freezes on my veins at the sound of his deep voice stopping my every thought. My breath catches on my throat and I feel dizzy. My body works without processing and I somehow face him so I guess it must have turned. His green eyes are staring into mine and his brows are furrowed. Mario is a step ahead of him.

“Were you eavesdropping?” I accuse him.

“We were going to order a drink and I heard you say my name so I stopped. I thought you were talking to me.”

“And when you realize I wasn’t you eavesdropped.”

He stays silent but his eyes don’t leave mine. My friends have gone so now it’s just him and me face to face and I know there are lots of people around for after all this is a new year’s party but it doesn’t feel that way to me now.  

“What did you just say, Indie?”

My jaw clenches. If he thinks I’m about to humiliate myself in front of him and give him validation for his superior attitude he’s wrong. He decided to end things and didn’t even think it was important enough so as to give me notice so I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it is that easy for him to hurt me.

“I said Marie’s been giving me shit about you since the beginning but I guess she was right after all.” I shrug. “You did use me and then-”

“Use you? How?”

My eyes hold his. He can’t be serious.

“You slept with me whenever you wanted-”

“I thought we both wanted it.” He frowns but I can see the horror on his eyes.

“I’m not saying you forced me, Harry. But the thing is you came and went whenever you needed a fuck and lied to me and then when things got a little complicated you just… Left” I shrug again “Like that, so easy, and you didn’t even tell me-”

His fingers wrapping around my forearm cut my words short as he walks towards the end of the hall. I keep frowning but I don’t say a thing. I wouldn’t know what to say. Instead, I let him guide us towards an empty dinner area where I’m guessing people celebrate happy moments for there’s also an empty stage and an empty bar next to it. Every piece of furniture is covered up with big white pieces of cloth and it feels like we’re standing in the middle of a ghost town.

He finally releases my arm and starts pacing back and forth in front of mine. I stare at him in silence for about a minute until I think this is too crazy even for me.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.” He sets his hands on his hips so his suit jacket folds on his shoulders and his elbows and I can’t help my eyes as they travel don his upper body. God, he looks so good.

“I’m scared.”

“You are scared?” I let out a humourless chuckle.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand?” Now that makes me laugh.

“Indie, I’m serious.”

The staidness of his voice makes me feel young. I swallow my witty remarks and try to hear him. I’ve been feeling like shit and I’ve been blaming him but maybe he’s got something to say too. I lick my lips and stare into his eyes, hoping he’d understand I’m here to listen now. I’m all done with this being mad for no particular reason and feeling like shit about it.

His green eyes burn mine as they look heavily into mine.

“You…” His index finger points at me. “You are so out of my league.”

I frown. What the hell is he talking about?

“This is crazy, you and me, its crazy.”

“I know.” I agree.

“When we talked in the car the other night… After what happened to you… You still listened to me and you fucking comforted me and when I looked at you, you just looked so small and vulnerable and fragile and I… I got scared.” He shrugs. “Because I thought if something were to happen to you, I would… I have been so selfish. I didn’t think how much you’d suffer with a low-life like me but you don’t deserve that, Blue.”

My brows meet and I find myself unarmed as every weapon I had ever held against this man just falls on my feet. I know this might sound like the same old story but I also know, even if he lied to me, that this is Harry speaking his mind out. He’s done that with me before, countless of times, as if he didn’t have a filter and he’s doing it now and it breaks my heart to know this is what’s going on in his mind.

“I don’t want to hurt you, okay? That’s like- the last thing I want but… These last few days I’ve been at Bellamond and I’ve tried so hard not to think about any of this, not to think about you, not to think about how you make me feel but it’s just useless because I always have to come back and you’re everywhere. You’re in my room, you’re in my kitchen, you’re in my shower, you’re just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I’ve thought in my mind countless of times what I would say to him after our talk in his car but those words are just leaving my mind now like birds leave their nests on the winter. I just stare at him. I feel like I’ve never had a tighter knot on my throat.

“We haven’t talked since that night where I told you everything and I thought you were relieved that whatever it is that we have was over because I wasn’t chasing you around anymore and you didn’t contact me either so I thought… But… You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

I can’t help it, the blushing takes over my face and I purse my lips so they stop shaking. Harry gets blurry. No, please, I don’t want to cry.

“Did you miss me?”

I decide biting my bottom lip might make it stop trembling and I nod my head but I don’t look into his eyes.

“The only reason I left was not to hurt you, Blue.” He confesses in a low voice.

I look up at him until our eyes meet. I search for the lie, for the part of him that’s only saying what he thinks I want to hear but I don’t find it. He’s telling the truth, he doesn’t lie; and yet, it doesn’t feel soothing.

I never thought the reason things were going to end between us was because he cared too much. I’ve been thinking about it for days and all these implausible reasons came running to my mind but not once did I think he was trying to protect me. I’ve doubted myself, I’ve doubted him, I’ve doubted this thing we had going on and I’ve thought he’s only seen me like a doll, like a sexual toy, or like something on his shelf he could pick up whenever he was bored and I feel terrible now. He’s been as kind with me as he is with anyone else.

I still don’t know what to say.

“But now, after hearing you say that” he continues “I feel like I can tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I want to do this.”

My heartbeat speeds up to the point where I think he can hear it. My hands get sticky, I feel sweat gathering on the back of my neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I want this.” He declares. “I want to overthink every little thing and I want to invite you to my sister’s birthday party and I want to” he smirks timidly and even though I don’t know what he’s about to say, the corner of my lips curl up too “rely on those closest to me and share their burdens, as they share mine.”

I full on grin when I hear him recite to me the words I apparently recited to him on my sleep what feels like ages ago and he giggles, surely proud that it worked. I can’t believe we’re doing this but I know I’m going to say yes.

I guess this is the way adult men ask adult women to be their girlfriend.

I shut my eyes and squeeze them tight. When I open them, he’s looking at me as if I was about to tell him something awful.

“It’s just about the weed, I know I’m probably making such a big deal out of it but-”

“I told you I won’t smoke again and I meant it.”

“But it’s not that easy.” I shake my head. “I know that, first-hand, and I can’t go through that again, Harry.”

“I know.” He nods and steps closer to me and for the first time since he grabbed me, his hand gently falls on my elbow and my breath gets stuck on my throat. “But I’m not asking you to like be my tutor or anything, Blue” he smiles “I just want you to be my girlfriend.” He smiles.

I chuckle.

“You’re labelling it now?”

“I just want you to be close.” He rephrases and my heart beats harder.

“How is that going to change anything?”

He frowns and looks at me as if I was insane and I can hear on his mind “it changes everything, baby” but instead he just rests his forehead against mine and I feel his hot, minty breath against my cheeks.

“I told you” he whispers “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s enough for me not to do things that will.”

I sigh and cup his cheeks on my hands, lifting his face so our eyes meet.

“One other thing though” I whisper “don’t speak about yourself like that ever again.”

I can hear him swallowing.

HARRY’S POV

Her big eyes investigate mine and I feel my pulse on my neck very close to where her fingers rest. Fuck, I want to kiss her. How can she disagree with me on anything I just said to her? It’s all true; keeping her with me is probably the most selfish thing I have ever done but I’ve missed her so much and it looks like she missed me too so why should I push her away?

I can’t believe I can hurt her. It doesn’t make sense to me that she cares about me enough so that I can break her heart like she said but just thinking that I did makes me feel like I’m not worth the air that I’m breathing. My eyes drop to her lips again and her pink tongue timidly licks them under my mesmerised stare. She must know what she’s doing.

My eyes shift back to hers and it’s a silence way of asking for permission but her hands close into fists on the lapels of my jacket and she presses her lips against mine. I feel the air coming down my throat and every fibre of my body electrifies. My hands find a home on her hips and I cling onto her when her tongue, fearless and tender, pushes inside my mouth and brings the electricity to mine.

She smells so good… It’s driving me crazy. I press my hands against the back of her thighs and hold her up and her perfect legs wrap around my hips. I walk holding her until I sit her down on the empty stage but she lies on her back and pulls me so my body is hovering over hers.

I feel her pulse against my lips as I kiss down her neck and back up to that place she loves right below her ear. She gasps and sweetly moans and I start to feel the lack of blood on my brain. I grind my hips against hers, slowly but firmly enough so that we both feel the friction, and she moans on my ear as her fingers sink on my hair.

Her words resound on my mind. You did use me and then… I’m not saying you forced me, Harry… You slept with me whenever you wanted…Whenever you needed a fuck…

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

“It’s just” I smile in a pathetic attempt at covering my guiltiness “it’s the first time I’m gonna… We’re gonna fuck as a proper couple.” She rolls her eyes but smiles and I peck her lips “I don’t think I want to do it on a dusty abandoned stage.”

She smiles.

“Yeah, we probably should get back to the party.”

“Yes, we should.”

I stand up and hold my hand out for her and for once she lets me help her without a feminist remark. I look down at my pants, I think if I move the right way no one would notice. She fixes her hair as if she could look better and then gives me a smile. The air gets stuck on my throat.

“How do I look?”

“Fucking gorgeous.”

She giggles.

“Hey, H.”

I almost give myself whiplash with the speed I tilted my neck to see her. Did she just give me a nickname? That’s how I sign shit too, with an H, and I just like that she has her own special way of calling me.

“Sorry” she blushes “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Don’t be.” I squeeze her waist. “I like it.”

She grins. Fucking hell, she’s gonna make this whole don’t-fuck-her-that-often resolution very difficult.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I reacted at your sister’s birthday. It was so fucking self-important of me to get mad at you when it was something so… Terrible and difficult for you. It just took me off guard but I want you to know I do not think it was your fault.”

“Don’t apologize for that.”

“No, I do. I do apologize, love. It was not right and I’m sorry.” She holds my gaze. “Do you forgive me?” She smirks.

“Of course, I do.” My voice surprises me as a whisper. “Do you forgive me?”

She just nods. She fascinates me.

When we go back to the party, I try to keep my hands to myself. I don’t want her to ever feel like that again, like she’s just a body that I use to get off; even the thought makes me want to throw up. But it doesn’t matter what I tell her, I’ve tried to explain it to her but I suck at it. I always end up sounding like some sort of sex deprived pervert or some sex addict, so I reckon I’m gonna have to cut the sex part of our relationship a little bit for her to understand it. It’s just… It’s so much more than that.

I don’t know how to put it into words but it’s like I have this need to physically be with her. I guess the fact that I’m aware of how much I suck at the communication department is also adding to the mixture but I feel like there’s only so much I can say, but I can show her what she does to me and I can be close to her, so impossibly close no one else gets to be there.

I’m afraid to tell her because I think it’s not sane and I’m sure she would never approve of that sense of possession I can’t help but to add to it but I just love having her all to myself and I love the way she sounds and the way she touches me and she pulls from my hair because she knows it’s her that’s making me go crazy.

She’s been studying me ever since we came back from our rendezvous. Whenever I glance at her, she’s staring at me and while her attention makes me thrilled, I’m kind of worried she might be having second thoughts. For the love of God, who would have think I would be such a wimp?

I don’t want to mess this up with her.

“Just go dance with her.” Mario laughs.

“I don’t dance.”

“She clearly wants to dance with you.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Well, she knows I don’t dance so...”

“Well, then that’s perfect to make her feel special.” He offers. “You don’t dance; unless…”

He raises his eyebrows like the kombucha girl meme and I finally let my lips curl up. He’s got a point… And she looks incredible in that dress… And I could have my hands on her hips or even kiss her because she’s my girl.

Before I know what I’m doing, my feet start moving towards her. She grins and immediately stands right by my side as if I was the only one dancing with her. She makes me nervous.

“Just know I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never danced?” She smiles.

“I’ve never danced with a girl.”

“Well” she shrugs “you can pretend I’m a boy, if you want.”

I look her body up and down. Right, like I could ever pretend that. I chuckle but I know she can tell I’m nervous. She is pretty good at reading my body. She presses a kiss to my cheek and I already feel like being here and being ridiculous is worth it but then she turns her body so that her back is pressed against my chest and she rests my hands on her hips.

“Just relax, baby.”

She smiles at me before she starts pushing her hips against mine and moving them in circles. I feel her moving against me and watch her smile and I know she knows what she’s doing. I’ve heard this song on the radio before and I know she likes it. I think about the light, for the singer says he’s blinded by the lights, and I can only pity him for if he’s blind, he’ll never get to see this.

Swaying her shoulders, Blue caresses the side of neck before she pushes all her hair to one side on her face, leaving the skin on her cheek and her neck completely exposed to me. I’m sure she can hear my troubled breathing.

“Are you enjoying it?” She asks.

“You’re torturing me.” I giggle stupidly.

“Am I?” She presses her bum deeper against me and my grip on her hip tightens, stopping her. “How so?”

“You look like an angel” I whisper on her ear because two can play this game “but you’re the devil in disguise.”

She giggles and that alone does it for me yet then she turns around and rests her hands on my shoulders before she’s kissing me. I feel my heart beating on the back of my throat. When she’s satisfied, having stolen all the air of my lungs, she pulls back but just the inches enough so I can hear her.

“Are you tired?”

No, but if she wants to leave, I’ll be the first to run.

“Do you wanna go?” I ask her instead.

She just nods but her face makes me laugh. She looks so tired yet so beautiful and sexy it’s ridiculous.

“Okay, then let’s go, babe.”

We walk together towards my car and I reach for her hand. It relaxes my pulse somewhat that she doesn’t pull away. I remember she tried to hold my hand once, when we had just shagged a couple times I reckon, and I pulled away. I guess even back then I kind of knew this was not just sex.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” She smiles.

And that’s the last thing she says until we make it to my apartment. When we walk inside and I close the door behind her, I make my way towards the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. If she hadn’t said what she did about me using her, I would have her against the wall.

I can’t help thinking about the soft skin on her neckline and the sweet vanilla scent she always brings to my nostrils and how intoxicating her whispers can be so I drink more water than I need, thinking that’s going to help holding myself back. From the corner of my eye, I can see her resting her hips on the kitchen island and crossing her arms across her chest.

“What is it?” She whispers.

“What is it?”

“Is it-” She swallows. “Never mind.”

“Is it what?”

I turn around so I can look at her and I don’t like the way she’s covering herself up even when she’s still fully dressed. She’s taken off her coat and that fucking black dress she’s wearing is hugging her figure in all the right places and I can’t help my eyes. But then I hear her take a deep breath and my eyes search hers but she’s not looking at me.

“I put on some weight… It’s just… It’s Christmas.”

My face contorts. I do not know what she’s talking about.

“And that’s something you wanted to tell me because…?”

Only then her hazel eyes look into my own and her self-doubt punches me on the belly.

“I was just considering that maybe… You don’t… Find me as attractive as you used to.”

Her lips set on a line as she stares at me. It feels like she’s apologizing for that, which is beyond fucked up, but the only thing I like about this is that small hint of challenge she’s giving me. I can see Blue fighting Indie, the confident, strong, independent woman in her is telling me I put on some weight and you can go fuck yourself if you have a problem with that; and the teenage girl in her is ashamed that she did. I don’t know which one is winning but I look at her and I see her and I see her lips, full and plump and intense red and perfect and I see her nose, like a hazelnut left under her eyes, and I see her cheekbones and her neck and her chest and it just puzzles me that she could ever think I don’t find her attractive.

“How...?” I can’t find the words. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you feel as attracted to me as you did before?”

“What? Where is this coming from?”

I want to understand her. Maybe someone said something to her, some jealous bitch or something or maybe she’s just putting these ideas on her own mind and that would be a bigger problem.

“Well…” She starts “When we were kissing before, you just pulled away when it started to get, uh, hot, I guess and… You have barely touched me after that… So I’m just wondering… Do you not want to… Touch me like that anymore?”

I shut my eyes, we’ve been over this before and we ended up having sex and she doesn’t seem to get it.

“Do you really think I could ever not be attracted to you?”

Her eyes frantically move between my own as if she was searching for the answer on my pupils.

“It’s crossed my mind.”

“Alright, we need to talk about this.”

She’s horrified and she hasn’t even heard what I’ve got to say. I hope I don’t sound like a creep to her and I hope I can manage to explain this.

“I am trying to hold back pretty hard because you make it very difficult for me but… Uh… After what you said about… How you felt… Used and… That I just came to you when I needed a fuck that’s just not true. I mean obviously you turn me on and you like wake this thing inside me like I just can’t enough of you but that’s not all you are to me. In fact, that’s like the small part. I mean… Sex with you is amazing but… I think it feels so good because it’s not just sex. Am I making any sense?”

She nods her head and smiles.

“I think you are.”

“I… Do you remember when you told me you weren’t okay with me sleeping with other people because it made you feel like just another notch on my belt?” She nods but her expression has changed from happy to embarrassed. “Well, I wasn’t even sleeping with other people. I just…” I shake my head- I messed up from the beginning, didn’t I? “I thought that was what you wanted and I thought if you knew I was only seeing you I’d scare you away because you had said so many time before that you didn’t want a relationship and that it was just sex but it’s not.” I chuckle. “And I get why you don’t get it. I mean I’ve been worried myself that I had become obsessed with sex, you know?”

“Well, are you?” She frowns.

“No,” I chuckle “it’s not about sex, Blue. It’s… You.” I shrug. There, I said it. “If anything, that’s what I’m obsessed with.” I laugh. “I just didn’t know how to tell you, I guess, and the way I knew how was that. I guess what I’m trying to say is- I am…” I take a deep breath, what am I going to say? “Crazy about you and… it’s not just sex, I…” like, love “care about you” I nod, good choice “a lot.”  

She bites her bottom lip but the corner of her lips curl upwards into a smile. She’s nervous and so am I. I don’t know how to do this.

“I care about you too.” She confesses and I feel a weight being lifted off my chest that escapes like chuckles through my nostrils. “And I’m sorry I threw this whole thing at you. It’s just… I had a bad year in high school and I know that’s like so long ago and I’m an adult now and a lot of things have happened after that but I guess it just… Deep down I still have an issue with that.” Her voice croaks and she tilts her neck as if that was going to keep her tears at bay. It does. “It’s not you, I mean it’s not on anything you do, it’s just me. I need to get over that.”

“Okay.” I smile at her.

I feel lucky she shared that with me and I can tell a lot of things have changed tonight. We are actually talking and I feel like she just opened a little window for me to peek at the inside wonders of Indigo Blue Anderson.

“And just to be clear” I add “You look breath-taking and your body is amazing and you should never even consider that I don’t find you attractive. I think about you naked all the time.”

She laughs and her eyes beg for my closeness. I hold my hand in the air for her to take and she does but still doesn’t move.

“Now, come here.”

I lean in closer so I can grab her elbow instead of her hand and pull her towards me faster. I am still grinning when she finally presses her lips against mine. Her kiss is soft but needy and my pulse accelerates as I feel my blood rushing in a frenzy. I squeeze her hips and her tongue pushes inside my mouth making me swallow my own breath as her fingers sink into my hair and she pulls from it.

“I know it’s not just sex” she whispers against my lips “but I want to fuck you.”

Her initiative stirs something inside me and all my blood rushes to my dick. I’ve desired this woman since the last time I was inside her and now I know she feels the same way.

“You know I care about you too?” I ask her.

“Yes.” She licks my lips and drives me crazy. “But now I want you to shut up and give me the attention that I want after you ignored me for days.”

“The attention that you want?”

I think my delightfulness can be heard on my tone. Ignore her for day… She has no idea how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about her, imagining her on top of me, imagining how her sweet voice would sound on my ear if she told me she loves me.

“Yes.” She bites my bottom lip.

“And what is it that you want, love?”

She pulls away so she can look into my eyes and rests her hands on my chest.

“I want you to make me forget about anything that’s not you and for you to touch me and to kiss me without holding back.”

Her words make my blood boil but somehow they bring a strange calm to the rest of the room, like they lifted a weight on my shoulders. My hands are still resting on her hips and my lips are parted. I don’t know what to say to her, she’s mesmerising. She leans in then until her lips brush against my ear and my eyes closed. She whispers.

“I want to feel your hands all over my body and to have you gasping for air on my ear and then I want to feel your fingers inside me until I’m about to cum and then” my hands move down to her ass and she sighs on my ear “I want you to get inside me and fuck me until I can’t see.”

She pulls apart so she can look into my eyes I guess but I can take mine away from her parted lips and the outline of her breasts under her dress. When I manage to look up at her though, my usually timid girl has wild eyes as she looks at me. She pushes my chest slightly so as to get a reaction from me and I feel the luckiest bastard on Earth.

“So what? Are you going to do it?”

She presses kisses down my cheek and the side of my neck and I thank God I untied my bowtie a while ago so she has access to the line that joins my neck and my shoulder with her sweet tongue.

I can’t take it anymore. My fingers sink on her skin as I push her towards the bedroom and I feel her smiling against my skin. Holding her hips, I turn her body around and undo the little button that’s holding her dress around her neck and watch it fall until it’s just a dark bundle on her ankles. She’s not wearing a bra but I already knew that. I circle her and sit down on my mattress with her between my legs and just look up. She’s wearing nothing but a red wine colour velvet thong and my hands caress her belly and the top of her thighs when she rests her hands on my shoulders.

“I’ve been torturing myself with this memory of how you look in just your knickers for a week...” I drink in every detail I’ve missed so much, the curve of her hips, the flesh under the strap of her thong, her navel… “You’re so fucking gorgeous, my love.”

She grins at me and pushes on my shoulder enough so there’s room for her to straddle me and her perfect, soft breasts are inches away from me. I grab her ass and squeeze it on my hand and she moans sweetly. Holy shit, I can’t remember being this turned on with anyone else.

I wrap my lips around one of her dark nipples and my other hand squeezes her other breast and her nails sink on my shoulders as she gasps and moans. I torture her just like she did before with that porn scene in the kitchen and I run my tongue around her nipple and my fingers down the cups of her perfect breasts that fill my hand when I squeeze them. She’s so beautiful, fuck.

She unbuttons my shirt and pushes the fabric down my arms until I’m shirtless. I’d pay to know what’s going through her mind but she seems to read mine because with a pull from her thong, she lifts one knee at a time on the air so I can put it down her legs. Once she’s fully naked, I slide my hand between her thighs and grace my fingers with her wetness. I grunt myself when I notice how soaked she is and I need to taste her so I slip down her body and lie on my back, pulling from the back of her full thighs until her wet slit is on my mouth.

“Oh God!” She only speaks when my tongue darts down her wet folds.

I close my lips around her clit and suck it inside my mouth and hear her gasping over me. She’s so warm and salty and I’ve missed this like crazy. Our eyes meet and the way she’s looking down at me with big eyes and pupils blown away has me grinning.

“Did you touch yourself these days?”

She shuts her mouth but gives me a look as if considering whether to tell me. Her skin over her cheeks and down her neck has tinged pink. I smile. She did and just the image of her lying on her bed with her tanned legs spread opened and her hand on her clit… I press one single finger on her entrance and slip it in just an inch and she groans.

“Don’t play with me.”

“Answer me, baby.”

“Yes, I did.”

I reward her with my tongue licking away where she likes it and she gasps and pulls from my hair.

“Did you think about this?” I whisper in between licks. “Did you imagine it was me?”

“Yes.” She moans. “I thought of you, just you in general.”

It takes me by surprise that she elaborates that much so I grab her cheeks and pull her closer to my mouth as I devour her turning her into a moaning mess over me.

“I thought of your hands” she grants me more “and your voice and the way you smell and how warm you always are…”

Her confession excites me and I want to pleasure her more than I’ve ever wanted to before. I know I could have her cumming in my mouth in a few minutes but that’s not what I want right now. I want to kiss her and I want her to kiss me so I slip down between her legs and take off my pants and boxers in the second it takes her to turn around with a confused face.

She looks so soft and velvety and so fucking sexy… I place my hands on her hips and her belly and turn her around so her back hits the mattress and then I lie on top of her, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss that she reciprocates. Her hands go down my bare chest.

“I love your body.”

I smile. Her complimenting me is rare but I love it. She’s told me she thinks I’m handsome but she’s never complimented my body before. She licks her reddish lip from all the kissing and I grind my hips against her so she can feel how hard I am for her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and I cup her cheek on one hand so her face stays still and I can see her. With the other hand, I grab my dick and align it with her sex before I slowly roll inside her.

“Oh.” She moans as I grind my hips pushing deeper until she’s taken me completely.  

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I love having her without a condom. I didn’t think it was going to be that different, but I can feel her wet and warm and slippery around me and it drives me crazy. I move slowly in and out of her and lift my weight on my elbows against the mattress so I can see her face better as I enter her and her hands move to the lower part of my back where she sinks her nails. Like that she pulls me in closer and tries to get me deeper inside her and the sweat graces my spine like transparent pearls.

I feel our connection like a rush of electricity that runs from the spot where I end and she begins all the way up to my heart and throat and mind. She consumes me and I’m not sure where that separation, that spot where I end, is any longer. We’re one right now and I can’t think of a better feeling.

We move in perfect sync and her hips sink down and drift apart at the rhythm of my thrusts. Her walls clench around me and she moans. I see round droplets of sweat covering her chest and her hairline and she just looks so good and so mine.

“You look so sexy, Blue.” I whisper.

With her eyes still closed, she grins taking my compliment and I have to control myself, to hold the words that are burning my throat. Two confessions in one night are already one too many… So instead I just contemplate the woman underneath me and my hand rests on her neck as I move in and out of her and she bites her lip. When her eyes open, she smiles at me and our eyes lock for the longest time.

“I’ve really missed you.” She whispers and a hint of embarrassment flashes on her eyes when she realizes she’s said it out loud.

“I’ve missed you too.” I reciprocate and she brings my face down for a kiss.

Her lips move down my chin to my neck and her tongue slowly presses against my skin. I growl and sink harder inside her making her gasp.

“Wait” I grab her chin with my fingers and bring her face to mine.

“What? What’s wrong?” Confusion floods her beautiful eyes.

“Nothing, I just want to kiss you.”

I feel her smiling against my lips as I kiss her and move my hips sinking inside her and drifting away slowly but firmly. Everything else disappears; it’s just her and me and that’s enough for me.

I pull from her waist and almost lift her from the mattress so that our bodies are as close as humanly possible. I pull away so that I can look at her again and she gives me a smile that melts me. I look down at her body as my hand goes all over her skin, first her breast and then her belly until I find that bundle of nerves that’s throbbing for me and press circles with my fingers against it.

“Tell me how you feel.” I grunt.

I almost can’t stand the pleasure running down my spine and pressing on the end of my dick threatening to paint her walls white but I want to hold it still, I want this to last and for us to have this moment for a little longer.

“It feels so good, H…” She moans my new nickname and I grunt, pushing harder inside her. “You feel amazing… I feel…” I watch her as I speed up the rhythm, she’s struggling with the words and her voice is so raspy and wet and heavy and I won’t last much longer. “Oh, God.”

Her hand curls against the sheets and she sinks her nails on the mattress as I pierced her against it and move faster and faster in and out of her.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna cum.”

I feel her body tensing underneath mine and her nipples peak against my skin as her walls contort and milk me and I grunt and cum inside her before I breathlessly collapse next to her. We both catch our breaths and I watch her sweaty chest moving up and down until the movements are calmed and then I wrap my arm around her and pull her body closer to mine.