#look at that completely straight curtain of glossy brown hair???

[live-from-flaturn]

Not to be a controversial 2009-era emo kid, but Bill Kaulitz and Gerard Way walked so Jeff Satur could run. 

Also, I will give Jeff all $200 of my savings to do his hair like this ONE TIME. Just once, please, it would be incredible.

[sinisternymphette]

fade into you - modern au!levi

because...I've been thinking about him recently... this is just a cute little self-indulging fic I made.. this is the first time I've ever written him so I apologize if he's a bit uncharacteristic. (also I wrote this in 2 am) Two pov's are here!! (use of f!reader)

⎯ 1984, huh. Good read, classic. You heard a gruff voice speak to you, making you look up almost immediately. Your gaze was met with a rather short middle-aged man's cold yet beautiful silver-blue eyes, his lips an unamused thin line which held no emotion in them. He was wearing an apron, which meant he was one of the people working in the quaint little teashop you were in. You tilted your head slightly to the side in confusion, blinking slowly as if you were a feline. However, you soon figured out he was talking about the book you were so carefully holding- 1984 by George Orwell. He was one of your favorite authors, so earlier this week, you were giddy to learn that your local library had more of his works. And so, you had to pick the next one on your list.

a faint ''oooh!'' left your mouth, staring at him and giving him a brief nod as a close-mouthed smile started to form on your glossy lips a little awkwardly. You gave a quick side glance at the menu that laid on the old and rounded wooden table before you met his eyes again.

⎯ Umm yeah, you started, voice vibrating slightly in a sheepish response to the unexpected comment. No one had ever come up to you before to mention the book you were reading. In fact, this was the first time you've caught a stranger's attention, no matter the reason. In a flick of a moment, you looked at the man in front of you up and down- he had short and straight, sleek black hair which was styled in an undercut curtain. He had dark circles under his eyes, something that you could relate to- though yours weren't as noticeable as his. His appearance almost reminded you to a sickly victorian child mixed with a history teacher, especially because of his stature and choice of clothing. He was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under his apron, dark brown trousers with a black leather belt and simple black oxfords.

⎯ I love his books. Animal Farm is one of my favorites- actually. You continued, a slight glimmer in your eyes as you spoke softly in almost a murmur. You placed the book on your lap before bringing one of your hands to brush some strands out of your face, placing them under your ears. ⎯ short, but a masterpiece.

The black-haired man's expression remained the same, though you were also met with a slight scoff. He seemed to be unamused, despite his interest in the beginning. This made you pout faintly, only a little. ⎯ Hm, I can agree with that. he mumbled, cold eyes meeting yours again and crossed his arms in front of his chest. His gaze and tone of voice might have made him seem uninterested and cold, but somehow, he still gave off a somewhat 'welcoming' aura, which was strange- to say the least. You guessed he was one of them closed-off types. ⎯ Did you sit here only to talk about Orwell, or do you actually want to drink some tea as well? he suddenly asked, which caught you completely off-guard. You slowly brought your hands together over the book that was sitting on your lap to fidget your fingers with each other in a nervous manner, a tiny frown forming on your features where once laid a soft expression. Usually, people were easy for you to read- but this man seemed like a puzzle, an enigma. Part of you thought that he was simply an asshole, while the other wanted to believe he didn't mean to come off like that- especially by the immediate reaction he had to his own words, his silver slits of eyes widening by the slightest, a glimmer of regret behind them. Still, you didn't want to assume. ⎯ Oh. That was all what was able to come out for a few moments, disappointment and shock carrying that simple word. You glanced to the side. ⎯ Right. Sorry. I'll be getting an hmm.. Arrowroot tea. Small cup, please. A glass of water with that, too. You were finally able to word something, and despite your attempts at sounding firm like him, you came off more awkward than you wanted to, voice as soft as a feather. Oops, so much for being strong and confident.

His gaze lingered on you for a few moments, silence filling the air around the both of you. ⎯ Mhm. With that, he simply gave you a nod, turned around and walked back behind the counters of the shop where all the brewing equipment and coffee-making machines were, murmuring briefly with the other person working there- A brunette, young woman -who seemed to be some years younger than you- with wide brown eyes and her hair up in a ponytail, wearing an apron like the man's. The woman's gaze landed on yours, though you quickly glanced away, staring right down onto your book. He probably said something rude about you to her, despite the fact that you didn't do anything. You just knew it, you felt it.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted after a few minutes by the sudden sound of him clearing his throat, standing right next to you. You perked your head up ⎯ Here. He placed the warm cup on the table, not bothering to look at you. ⎯ It's 3 dollars. In a swift motion, you opened the zipper of the bag that was sitting on the chair next to yours and pulled out your purse, taking out the pennies of money you owed. Before you were able to turn your back and hand him the money, he placed a small and pretty little porcelain rounded plate in front of you, 2 scones with strawberry jam on it. Strange.. you didn't order those. ⎯ I think you got my order wrong, I didn't ask fo- you spoke up as you turned, though your words were immediately cut off by his husky voice. ⎯ On the house. his gaze softened to some extent, except it switched back to his former one in a blink of an eye. You looked back to the scones, then looked at him again with clear confusion as you gave him the money- your fingers touching his for only seconds before they didn't anymore. Was this because he felt bad about the rudeness from before, or did the girl he was with talked some sense into him? Maybe your hearing was broken. ⎯ Really? you almost blurted out, which caused him to chuff in response, slightly rolling his eyes. ⎯ Yes. Take it or leave it. Despite the roughness that came off with that sentence and the stoic expression on his face, he seemed to have done it as an attempt to hide the way the thin lines of his lips curled up- however minuscule it was. You honestly found it a bit funny and strange, why he was trying to act like such an angry and grumpy little old man instead of just..being normal. ⎯ Uh..thanks, I guess. You replied, rewarding him with a soft smile as you took the cup and brought it to your lips, taking a small sip while you sniffed, enjoying the tea's smell.

⎯ Enjoy your tea. He replied with a brief nod of his head while his gaze remained on you for a short moment before he eventually let out a scoff, though it didn't really seem to be from annoyance, but from something else. You weren't 100% sure though. He then turned away once again and went back to tidying up some tables, occasionally glancing your way. You didn't pay much attention to him though because as soon as he left; you opened your book, took out the lace page marker you had carefully placed in the last page you've been reading, placed it back on the table and got emerged in the story. You furrowed your eyebrows, a sign you were concentrated and not paying attention to your surroundings while you hummed softly to yourself.

Levi walked back to his spot after restlessly cleaning the same table for the past 10 minutes. He had a frown on his face, a dark and gloomy expression as he huffed, using his arm to wipe off some of the little sweat that was starting to form on his forehead. He got behind the counter while Gabi took the task of making the tea, and she quickly turned to look at him as she brewed the order she just got. An amused smile played on her lips, snickering softly which made Levi give her a scowl. ⎯ What do you want, brat. he murmured, bringing his hand to pinch his temples. He was way too embarrassed already, having pulled that stupid little stunt back there and acting like a complete ass to that woman. He didn't even mean to say what he did, but for some reason, the woman made his words get caught in his throat- and it made him confused, it was an unusual thing to happen, a new feeling, so he didn't like that. Still, that wasn't an excuse to act the way he did. And internally, he was still cussing at himself. ⎯ Sooo, did she accept the scones? She asked, a playful glint in her eyes as she waited for his response. Levi sighed. ⎯ What do you think? You see them in my hands? Gabi nodded, understanding what he meant and that it was a warning for her to mind her own business. As much as she loved teasing the old man, she didn't like getting on his bad side, especially if he was already having a rough day. Levi stood there, crossing his arms and leaning over the counter next to the cash register as his gaze traveled through the shop, though his eyes always seemed to land on the woman's even if he didn't intend to. Damnit.

He wasn't sure what caused him to be like this. Usually, he was too focused on his work to even notice the clients he was having. He didn't care about socializing with any of them, or making any new friends. After all, he was already happy with the ones he already had- Falco and Gabi, who were his adopted children, his best friends Erwin, Hange, Miche and Onyankopon, and his dumbass almost-siblings Isabel and Furlan. He didn't need anyone else, nor wanted anyone else. So why was his body acting against his mind?

⎯ She's real pretty she whispered, trying to act discreetly as she nodded towards her with her head, leaning against the wall next to Levi. He shrugged, clearly unamused by her comment as he glanced down, acting as if he was tiding the cash inside the cash register. He didn't respond, just glanced towards the woman's way every few moments. Gabi then left to tend a costumer, a tray on one of her hands with a warm cup of tea.

Some times passed, and you finally got out of the trance-like state you were in as your read your book, head perking up as you yawned softly. Drinking tea always made you sleepy, which was a pleasant feeling. It calmed you down, especially while reading. A content sigh escaped your lips, and you slowly stood up to grab your bag and put your things inside before you fixed your now slightly messy hair. ⎯ Done with your tea, huh. you heard the now familiar cold voice speak up behind you, realizing he was probably waiting for you to finish all this time. You nodded his way, turning fully to look at him correctly. ⎯ Yup, tea and scones were very good, thank you. You replied, your voice sounding more kind now. You looked at the now empty cup in your hand before looking at him, making a small chuckle ⎯ Do I leave this here, or is there a trash can where I can drop this? he shook his head, pulling up his hand in a way of saying no. ⎯ Leave it here. he said with usual tone, his silver eyes looking up and down at you, almost as if he was scanning you. He then took a cloth from his pocket and started to wipe the table clean, no longer looking at you and his expression immediately became stoic again. And so, with that, you started to walk away without looking back. You were tired now, and all you wanted was to go home, take a warm bath and loath on your bed. However, as you were about to open the door, the bell chiming softly, you heard his voice again. ⎯ Will you be coming here again? Your eyes widened as you listened, the tone in his voice almost sounding hopeful, even if it was just a little bit. You turned to look at him one last time, nodding. ⎯ I really liked this place. So yeah, I probably will.

You didn't know, but deep down inside of him, with those simple words you just spoke, a warm and fuzzy feeling stirred in his tummy, even if all he did was nod in response and turn to keep doing what he was doing. A tiny, small, minuscular but content smile almost appeared on his lips. He was glad. Glad that he would see you again, and he couldn’t wait for you to return, as much as he tried to convince himself he didn't.

@sinisternymphette 2024

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

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[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 | ღ | 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || what seems to be a normal rich summer morning with the women who lives across the honeysuckle boulevard from his cottage lies something else. a buttery rich feeling that spreads deep within Bucky’s heart as he takes his neighbor, alongside Alpine to the farmers market for coffee.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || fluffy fluff! ➳ part one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || retired!bucky barnes × neighbor![black//woc]reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3K ➳ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || if you think long walks with bucky and alpine in the sunny countryside are warnings then so be it but there is lots of food mentioned. ღ also reader owns a flower shop, not a warning thought just some info!

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || this version of cherry wine by hozier ღ this version of mystery of love by sufjan stevens ღ

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || eeeeep!!! so this is my first bucky with alpine fluff and i’m very glad to have it be the first for my fluffy mini series that i’m doing for this month! ღ I don’t describe reader too much throughout the story but what is clear is that I don’t specify on skin tone but yes the person in the moodboard is a woc! ღ anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy reading! ღ

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it was a lavish affair when Bucky found himself tangled with you in the bed of a million perennial petals.

clothing falling and bodies twisting themselves against each other in not lust but emotional apprehension. the soft petals of rose, carnation and violet keep pouring like blissful rain, entangling in his hair and in the crooks of your body.

enough to suffocate but enough to make him feel enveloped in the fantasy- the divination of you you you and only you.

for you are butterscotch benevolence that he will let pool like ambrosial nectar in the cavernous hollows of his collarbones. your tears of seventh heaven euphoria trickling onto his skin forming constellations- like the paint speckles on the forlonged artists canvas of his naked soul.

you are honey sunlight oozing from the basin of the candy floss sky, lacing with the shedding petals that continue to powder in their divine scent and morality. his fine pink sheets soft and silky as the rose petals of Heliogabalus, he’d sigh in heavenly pleasure to be buried alive in petals if she was drunk of the love he has for her.

he sees her playing, singing, dancing and bringing her virtuous spring song deep within the glossy shine of her honey hive eyes. love seeping in the melancholy streams leaking through the old creeky floorboards of his home and straight into the chambers of his heart.

so promising yet so grandeur as he feels his chest warm with her very touch, the ivory bow encased in the virtuous flowers of her emblem garden in his hands- he’d think that he was Cupid but oh how he’s been struck by his own arrow in great surprise. straight into the once extravagant chamber of his heart.

the spiraling golden arrow destined to pierce and rip through the tender muscle of breast to the beating vessel that writes a tragic tale of eternal ravishment in the movements of lyrical beats. muttering with languor-glazed lips, he’d keep her love like a an old locket against his chest for it’s what reminds him of home whenever he feels the cold element on his skin.

there are pieces of you scattered in the wonderous arteries of his heart.

nestled in the folds of the beating muscle, take heed.

for that is his home.

y/n is his perennial feelings left unsaid, exquisite pain yet ethereal serenity. his soft bed of roses and his deadly golden arrow, all meant to give his heart hope.

that he was- however it seems the bed of roses and all the lovely elements it holds have come to a staggering pause.

now as the sun hits the past super soldiers eyelids that dream of flower petals and the heavenly vision of you disappear. they flutter open to meet the single stream of sunlight that has slipped past the slit of the sheer bedroom curtains. brightening up the somewhat clustered space of the room with its single golden string.

Bucky sighs in defeat, this is the fifth dream he’s had of you in a month and he was barely pushing past the second week of May. before he didn’t mind the dreams, they calmed his mind while he layed in slumber during the thunderstorms of April but now they were resilient. it wasn’t no regular thing to dream about the women across the boulevard in the haven of flower fields and maple trees.

Bucky knew this but he couldn’t help but not treat these dreams sweetly. they were the definition of sweet torture, you never hurt him in those dreams as he did to himself but it was a pain to know that you probably don’t think of him the same way. for goodness sake ever since he and Alpine moved the only interactions he had with the maiden were just acknowledgments as they passed each other on their daily errands.

he shouldn't be this infatuated with someone who he's only met.

the soft hum of a purr finally awakens Bucky, his cats paw brushing against the half covered skin of his fleshed bicep. it takes a pat or two to make Bucky open his eyes to find Alpines blue hues staring back at his and he gives his furry friend a crooked smile. a chorus of meows welcoming him to another sunny morning in the peaceful and harmonious countryside.

“morning pal, ya slept well?” Bucky smiles as he lazily lifts his hand to scratch the right spot behind Alpines ear.

stretching out of bed till his feet touch the cool wood flooring, following the simple path from the bedroom to the kitchen he pours Alpine his dish of cream and gets started on his own breakfast. whisking hen eggs his neighbors from afar gifted him the day before and toasting the freshly baked loaves of bread he bought specially from the market yesterday.

Bucky normally didn’t take any gifts from anyone, he wasn’t that type of person to feel comfortable with those sort of things but as the days gone by the cheerfulness of the communities welcoming energy towards him has soften his doubt.

eating his simple breakfast paired with coffee, Bucky bites into his buttery egg toast whilst quickly scribbling down his to-do list for the day. of course there isn’t any tasks that the hundred and ten year old man has to get done but there were things that Bucky did look forward to ever since he settled in a month ago. the country was a lovely peacefulness he had forgotten about ever since he was a boy.

traveling to his grandparents farm away from the city for memorable childhood summers in the sun and fields. turning his head to meet the white linen sheets that draped over the kitchen panels, Bucky can see the herd of brown and black spotted cows from the distance. tapping the pencil against the shiny polish of the kitchen table he bites his lip on what else to add on.

his head lifts up to see through the other window that casts its lovely light against his paper. blue eyes meeting the toffee cobblestone path that led to her cottage, hidden amongst the shrubbery of acorn trees and flower budded bushes. hearing from lots of locals in the cobblestone village near the sparkling sea that she owns a little orchard of peach and cherry trees, a few strawberry patches amongst the vegetation.

it made sense why he sometimes finds a large wooden basket of those ruby fruits at his doorstep from time to time. a card inviting him over for some tea that he would agree to yet he would always call you the next day a stuttering mess canceling it over some important errands. nonetheless it made Bucky's heart swell how understanding you were, sweet just like the ripe fruits you pluck for him on Sundays.

Bucky would make copplers and sometimes pies out of them and if he wasn't so scared of the possibility of being too attracted to you he'd head over to your place so he and him would eat them in your gazebo. but of course he can't do everything his heart implores him to do. was it bad to want to get to know you and imagine what it would be like to befriend you?

maybe do lots more than just befriend you...

sometimes he would find a glimpse of your form in the distance as he headed for the lake neat the lavender fields up north to fish something for dinner. humming while you cared for your flowers, singing to them as you danced along the vintage radio. Bucky could see himself singing and dancing alongside you. caring for your precious tulips, primroses and other beautiful flowers that you sold.

those pretty flowers sweet and divine just as her lips and voice when the two first met, when he arrived in the too expensive car that stood out amongst the scenery. arms occupied with bouquets upon bouquets of trimmed flowers that practically shielded her face, his body ran straight into yours when he got out of his car. flower petals falling with the impact and him apologizing one thing led to another and he helped her with her bouquets all while being stricken when he got a clear look at her.

a clear look at you.

lovely in your sundress that flowed beautifully against your bodies soft planes, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that made him start to stutter. something about you that made his heart bloom in a recherché flower he still can’t understand because he can still hear the velvety tone of your voice speaking your own name when giving each other’s your introduction.

from there on out a glowing ember of clustered stars burned in the pit of his belly when you spoke his name and he spoke yours. it was soft and innocent as the flowers in your arms but the introduction was cut off far too short for Bucky's liking but he promised you a coffee when he was completely settled in. having to do something so he could see you again cause oh how he wishes to hear you speak his name again and again and again till the flowers sprout, bloom and decay with each coming season.

maybe he should pay you a visit and bring up that coffee...

the music from the radio filling the bright cottage kitchen sweetly alongside the birds singing their song outside. Alpine takes his seat across from him, yawning over the new day that brings nothing but lazy laps and baked fish treats. forking a few honey drizzled raspberries in his mouth, Bucky walks to the front door and just in time the daily paper plops down on his feet from the passing paper boy whipping through the grassy roads on the shiny steel of a ringing bicycle.

bending down to retrieve the newspaper, he passes through the sidewalk of petunias and violets till he reaches his mailbox. the wood creaky and the metal rusty but the daisies that sprinted around the opening was a pretty site to see before Bucky grimaced at people from the outside world wanting to invade his privacy. grabbing the letters before smelling the sweet daisies, Bucky looks through the letters one by one. ripping some that had no use for to be used as fire food for his fireplace, grunting that even though he’s away from the tabloids and cameras there are still people eager enough to want something from him.

a soft voice from the distance pulls him out of his annoyance, it makes his eyes lift from his dreaded mail to the women a mile away singing her song as she reaches her mailbox. Bucky can’t help but look at her from afar; and maybe Alpine knows this to as he watch his lovesick owner admire the maiden from the kitchen windowsill.

with some obscene fortune he notices you checking your mailbox as well. heart pacing in his chest, he wishes he didn’t go outside before showering and at least brushing his hair for your waving to him from the distance.

“hello hello Bucky!” your sweet voice exclaims and it just adds onto the heaven that is the morning it makes his cheek hurt from how much he’s smiling.

“hello hello to you y/n. how is the shop coming along?” Bucky shouts and his heart sinks when you wave him over to you.

despite his mind telling him to not pursue closer his heart makes him walk his way to you standing next to your Valentine shaped mailbox. his worries slipping away when there's a underlying comfort in your posture and aura, alluring like the bees are to the flowers. welcoming and warm and he can't help but feel that way every time he's near you.

speaking of you, its reassuring to also know he wasn't the only one to wear pajama's out since your still in your blue silk nightgown. matching silk slippers adorning your feet, you sip from your tea cup as you read what he believes to be a Cosmopolitan.

“it’s coming along great, thank you! a bit slow the first week but that’s how any business starts but I just received my tenth loyal customer and i’m more than certain i’ll be selling lots of flowers today.” you spoke as you smiled to yourself then up at him.

checking your mail, Bucky’s surprised that you have quite a handful of letters and boxes. all written in lovely cursive and packaged nicely, almost like love letters and gifts. it makes Bucky’s heat sink, knowing that he might not be the only one who’s fallen head over heels for you. by all means you probably have the whole village under a spell with just the way you smile alone but he wants to see that smile the most.

he wants to be the reason for that smile.

“that’s sounds wonderful y/n, maybe I could stop by and pick a pretty bouquet or two," you only smile wider upon those words and much to his excitement you even brush your hand against his.

"oh really? have a special someone in your life who needs some loving?" you perk as you open an envelop but the question makes Bucky's throat dry on how he should answer.

you seem like the type of maiden who loves an honest man- yes, he should be honest.

"well... there is this one special lady." Bucky lingers and that makes you snap your attention away from the letters in your hands. voice dying in your throat at those words and heart beat hitting pause.

"I always thought Alpine was gonna be the only one to get to my soft spot- we sleep in the same bed together," he stops to laugh a bit, rubbing the back of neck with his metal arm and you laugh along with him.

"how is Alpine? i'm noticing he's getting into a routine with sleeping in my chamomile beds in the afternoon," you smile and bring your tiny tea cup to your lips. "would you care for a cup Bucky? this just so happens to be chamomile,"

"Alpine is doing good and thank you for bringing that up I was beginning to wonder where that rascal has been leaving for. will have an important talk to him once I get home and- I was going to ask you something," Bucky speaks while admiring how your thick lashes curtain your honey hive hues as you sip the steaming golden liquid.

no one should look that beautiful just drinking tea yet here he is, breathless on the simple action. if he truly wanted a cup he'd wish to drink from your tiny cup, to press his lips upon the porcelain rim where yours once brushed against. drink the sweet sunshine to experience the closest thing to your honey kiss...

"don't worry it's alright! I love looking over at him when I have tea at the back patio, he's quite a lovely guest. very well mannered, and yes Bucky is there anything I can help you with?" you cannot deny that your heart is practically skipping beats in your chest, fast and lively like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, for someone who has done the simple thing of asking someone out for couple hundreds of times a hundred years ago from now it’s a disappointment that he’s lost his touch. however you don’t seem to notice or care but that doesn't mean he should give up. not when you're right here glowing in your morning dew radiance, anticipating the next words to slip past those lips.

it's now or never.

"h-how do you feel about that coffee I promised? today? I have a few errands to run in town and I was wondering if you would accompany me- on my errands... if that doesn't bother you,” Bucky rambles to a stop and he's thankful you're still smiling that closed lip grin against the porcelain of the cup.

"yes Bucky I would love that! there's a coffee cart near the shop I work at but what about your lady? she wouldn't mind us going out for coffee, would she?" you speak as you gather your letters in your arms. glancing up at Bucky to receive some conformation and Bucky bites his lips.

"I don't think she'll mind. in fact... I think she would love me to go out once in a while. I have a habit of only going out when necessary, coffee with you wouldn't hurt,"

"that's perfect, i'll see you at twelve then Bucky. you can help me open shop to," you smiled and Bucky returned an even warmer one back.

filling your heart with a rush of liason, like a tea cup filling with tea. something meant to be full and warm, embraced with someone's touch and lips as they drank each fluttering honey glazed sensation they have for one other.

something that seems to be happening right now before they break their strong eye contact, wiry- crooked smiles still embellishing their sun-freckled faces.

you wish you could kisses each one off his clean shaven cheeks right now, slightly rosy but oh how it would feel like peach skin against your lips.

Bucky wishes to kiss yours, the shine of your lips the form of heart shaped clouds and he just can't seem to get his head out of the amorous blue you cast him into.

"i'll be seeing you in an hour Bucky," you draw before walking away with a cheeky wink, your eyes still locking with his before you get to the rosy sunflower porch.

"and i'll be waiting for you doll,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading part one! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this join my taglist to be notified of my future works! ♡♡♡

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[jamespotterthefirst]

Caress (Adam x f!detective)

Pairing: Adam du Mortain x f!detective (Emilia Miranda) Word count: 1.1K Warnings: None Summary: The detective got a new haircut and Unit Bravo is quick to notice, some more than others.

Author’s Note: Hi, I’m Bree. I just finished TWC and was left with a lot of feelings. It’s been days and I haven’t stopped thinking about that option to change the detective’s hair in the book 3 demo. So here we are. 

Thank you @aestheticartsx�� for pre-reading! 

The Detective's heartbeat flutters wildly, like the wings of a desperate, terrified hummingbird. Adam can hear the erratic rhythm even before Unit Bravo strides into the station that morning. 

They pass the officers and staff whose names he hadn't bothered to learn, the drumming of her pulse reaching a fever pitch. It becomes evident that Emilia is nervous, even terrified, of something. By the time they reach her door, his mind has conjured a multitude of scenarios where her safety is compromised, each more horrifying than the last. 

Adam quickens his stride, every nerve on high alert, his muscles coiled with concern. 

Until his eyes land on her. 

Her back is to them but even then, he can immediately appreciate the difference in her appearance. The curtain of long, glossy hair that once rippled down her back in the most maddening way is gone, for the most part. It is replaced instead with a blunt sheet of waves that barely reach her chin.

 Adam feels a sharp, inexplicable pang of loss at the absence of tantalizing brown waves. And then she turns to face them, the full effect of sharper cheekbones and a graceful, long neck halting his steps. 

Felix wolf whistles. “Em, you look—” 

For the first time in a long time, even Felix is speechless. 

“Hot.”

Shell shocked, everyone turns to Mason, already seated in his dark corner, a plume of smoke swirling from his cigarette. He shrugs, unabashed about the brief compliment. 

Felix nods in solemn agreement. 

“More than hot.” His fingers make a faux photo frame, inspecting Emilia through it as though she was a piece of fine art. “Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before.”

Emilia lets out an unrestrained bout of laughter. Adam revels in the sound, incredulous that he once found it irritating. 

“I never should have sent you that meme,” she says to Felix, though the rosy bloom of her cheeks indicates she's flattered. 

“You look lovely, Em,” Nate informs her earnestly before taking his usual seat. 

Emilia gives Nate a grateful smile that makes Adam's insides twist with longing. 

A short silence ensues and everyone's attention falls on Adam, no doubt awaiting his reaction. 

Except he has no words. 

“It's…” he begins, his voice sounding gruffer than usual even to his own ears. 

Immediately, he amends that last thought. He could think of many words, in many languages, that could begin to pay homage to her. They would fall short, never encapsulating her incandescent charm or her arresting beauty, but for a second, Adam wants to spend hundreds of years trying. 

The detective visibly takes in a breath through parted, pink lips as she waits for the end of that sentence. Her heartbeat picks up again and it dawns on him that this is what she was so nervous about. 

Adam's teeth clench together, masterfully stifling the wave of emotion she effortlessly draws. 

“... Practical.”

Emilia's expression falls, her gaze moving away from his with a resignation that makes his stomach clench painfully. 

“It is,” she says in a small voice. 

The words feel like a blunt knife. 

She doesn't look at him once for the duration of their meeting, even when he offers brusque input from his spot by the window. By the time their time together draws to a close, Adam's crossed arms dig into his chest, every nerve ending aware of her every move. 

“You really do look great, Em,” Felix is saying with a simper as he prepares to leave. “Don't mind Adam, though. He's only upset he can't fantasize about pulling your hair from—” 

The murderous look Adam throws the younger vampire cuts the words short. Instead, Felix dissolves into a wicked laugh before following Nate and Mason out of the office.

Adam begins to follow, too, but he stops at the door. Shoulders pinched with tension, he turns to face her, despite his better judgment. Her gaze clicks with his, paralyzing him on the spot and charging the air around him with crackling energy. 

The silence is heavy, deafening. 

Then, Emilia glances away, busying herself with some documents on her desk. An errant lock of hair falls across her face with the movement and Adam's fingers curl at his sides. 

“Is there anything else, Commanding Agent du Mortain?” 

The use of his professional moniker is expected. Yet, that doesn't ease the sting of hearing it. 

“Not at all, Detective Miranda.”

She barely nods in acknowledgement, already making her way to the exit with a purposeful gait. “Good. If you'll excuse me, I have to meet with Verda about—” 

Her words stop abruptly when Adam remains fixed on the spot, blocking her path out the door. 

Their considerable height difference has her staring straight at his chest. Beautiful, soulful brown eyes move to his neck like the delicate, featherlight caress of a lover. By the time her gaze reaches his eyes, Adam's mouth is dry, his skin feeling too tight for his body. 

He swallows with much effort, unable to look away. 

They remain like that, mere inches apart. Emilia searches his expression, desperately hoping to find something. 

“It suits you.”

The words leave Adam before he can stop them. 

“What?” 

“You hair.”

Emilia blinks, unsure of what to say. 

Having her so close that her breath brushes his skin is pure torture for Adam, his body aching to pull her closer still. Before reason kicks in, he reaches out to her, his fingers brushing away that stray piece of hair. 

The detective sucks in a shuddering breath but she doesn't move away from his touch. Instead, her eyes flutter closed, long lashes casting shadows across jutting cheekbones. 

Adam's fingers move to the plane of her cheeks, tracing a path so delicate, it's as if he's afraid to scare her away. 

In a way, he is.

He is terrified she will realize just how undeserving he is of her. 

His eyes follow the movements with as much intensity, enraptured by how right their skin looks, pressed together. The pad of his thumb reaches the corner of her mouth, aching to travel the swell of her bottom lip. 

“Emilia, Verda is wondering—Oh.”

The officer called Tina comes to an abrupt stop a few paces behind Adam. 

“I'll be right there,” Emilia calls to her friend. 

Adam opens his mouth though he is unsure what to say. It doesn't matter because the detective has already averted her gaze, her spine straightening with quiet dignity. 

Perhaps she knows that had it not been for her friend's interruption, Adam would have retreated, as he always did.

author’s note: Thank you if you read this! 

Tags: @aestheticartsx,  @kat-tia801, @lady-calypso, @fictional-affections, @alyssalauren , @rav3n23 , @aworldoffandoms , @gryffindordaughterofathena , @missmiimiie , @danijimenezv​ , @canigetanawwjunk​

[heli0s-writes]

Eat the Rich*

Summary: You’re just a girl in a bar way above your tax bracket and Ransom  really doesn’t care for what you’re wearing.

A/N: There are no spoilers for the movie. But, there IS... Smut. Dirty talk. Class warfare in the form of hate-fucking. 2.9k words of FILTH. I need to be exorcised for this. Thank you @evanstarff​ and @tropicalcap​ for sending me straight to hell.

The entire lounge seems to turn when you enter. Eyes slide back and forth your way, mid-conversation mouths dipping into low frowns. Amidst the old-money frat boys from Cambridge, Beacon Hill Barbie socialites, and Downtown business young bloods, you’re a flagrant contrast in ripped jeans and an old hoodie.

A favorite hoodie. An incendiary hoodie.

The kind of hoodie that is worn with pride around these West End parts. Even the group you arrive with tried to hackle you out of it— bachelorette party decorum, they cried, will you please take that thing off?

Your cousin might be marrying Silverspoon Asswipe and stringing herself up pretty next to all his call-girl friends, but you are a Jamaica Plain girl through and through and you will not stuff yourself into a glitzy cocktail dress before this hoodie.

She waves her hand at the hostess to distract her from your outfit, rustling the satin sash over her glossy sweetheart neckline, “Reservation under Prentiss; it was booked this morning?” And then a sharp look at you as if to say, you made the reservations, right?!

Duh. Your eyes respond when the hostess begins to lead your party back. You follow the tail end of the throng, veering off towards the bar; the miasma of Chanel perfume is enough to gag, and the cigar smoke is only a tiny bit better. Not like they’d care or even notice.

“Do you have PBR?”

The bartender stutters and before you can make him any more uncomfortable, a deep voice from beside you nips it in the bud.

Broad shoulders turn until you see his face. Amused, with a single raised eyebrow, mouth just barely tilting up at one corner. Mid-thirties and extremely well-groomed. Slicked back brown hair and classic Ray Bans hang from the collar of his sweater. Too handsome for his own good with the unmistakable swagger of someone grown up filthy rich.

“She’ll have the Glenfiddich. Neat.”

Certainly smug enough to butt in like you’re old friends.

“Will she?” You ponder defiantly at the pursed lips nestled over a strong jaw.

His own thick crystal glass is easily tipped into his mouth when he takes a too-large swig. Signet rings on two left fingers glimmer, and with a low exhale bordering a growl, he hisses through his teeth, “Yeah. I think you will.”

Bold blue eyes roam over your top and the statement printed there for a second before he scrutinizes your face. Then, purposefully—and knowing that your eyes are on him-- he looks back down to the swell of your chest.

A hum of approval before he faces forward again, only giving you his side profile.

“Wow,” you scoff, “Dick.”

The grin that splits his mouth for a second looks angelic if angels could be full-grown men with full-grown egos to match. “Close. It’s Ransom.”

Amber sloshes when the bartender returns, and you chance a sip because even your pride isn’t stupid enough to pass on a free glass of Glenfiddich.

The whiskey bites for a second before rolling smoothly down your throat. There’s an inherently superior taste to these luxury drinks, but you pull a face all the same, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Ransom chuckles, head turning just a tad as he looks to you from the corner of his eye.

“You making a statement with that thing on, or what?”

“You’re the one making a statement with that ladies wool scarf from Drake’s.”

Ransom jerks to you fully now, attention snatched by your wit as he leans in, “Where’d you come from, little girl? Not everyone walks into Carver’s dressed in rags.”

He really is a piece of work. When you tell him your neighborhood, as expected, he snorts with disdain, but his eyes fall back on you again, highly intrigued. “There’s more to you, isn’t there? My scarf, that attitude. Someone taught you a thing or two, didn’t they?”

The single-malt mouthful is singing in your veins and if your confidence was thinking about simmering down for a second, it’s forgotten itself inside the furious swirl. The hand around your empty glass clutches just a tiny bit tighter.

“Oh, come on,” Ransom waggles two fingers for another round, “Let’s see, I’m thinking… blue-collar parents, siblings, maybe with shared rooms in your dilapidated Jamaica Plain home?” A tap of his finger to that pink bottom lip too damn pretty to be on his wretched face, he pretends to mull a thought over.

He looks you up and down, taking just enough time to where you feel violated under his gaze, “I know: Public college. Two-year community. Working a day job in Back Bay made you bitter, didn’t it? Hence, statement piece.”

“Asshole,” you snap, unraveling at the seams with rage, and the bartender quickly flits away again, “Full ride to Northeastern, four years with honors. Back Bay can’t fucking afford me.”

You don’t know how he does it, but his derisive silence incenses you even more. He couples it with a slow flick of his tongue over teeth, flagrant staring, and the piercing blue of his eyes spotlight a trail—across your shoulders, down your arm, jumping from your fingertip to your thigh, and then it dips between.

Every inch of your body prickles alive with reaction, so naturally, you spit, “Fuck you.”

Ransom’s smile grows until it nearly looks genuine, but then the sharp points of his canines sink right into your gut.

“When?”

There is something ugly and incredible simmering behind his thick curtain eyelashes. A clear ocean grows stormy, sizzling like a cruel tempest rushing to life. The yellow gaussian blur from dim scone lights suddenly cast shadows over his sharp nose.

He slaps too many bills on the polished ebony and the swish of his scarf flicks over your knee when he stands. Ransom towers over you, light pink flush of inebriation and excitement growing hotter on his sculpted cheeks. He leans in, the open flaps of his overcoat falling around your shoulder, threatening to swallow you inside all his dark.

Low timbre and dusky spice goads, “Put your money where your mouth is, scholarship; that sweater’s not all talk, is it?”

Dick!

-

Big hands yank the hem up over your head for a second before something changes his mind. The heavy steel door is latched twice over and he’s pushing you into it with his imposing frame. Your skull hits the metal as his knee parts your thigh, leg shoving itself up in-between until you’re on your tip-toes, with nothing to do but land on him. The heat of it rushes all the way up to the top of your head, pouring from your mouth in a choked mewl.

Ransom rucks the top over your breasts until the words scrunch up at your collarbones and you think it must bring him some masochistic satisfaction to know their unforgiving glare:

Eat the Rich

His warning chills your spine.

“I’m gonna fuck that line from your brain. Fuck it right out.”

He yanks everything south of your waist to your ankles and pulls himself free from his pants, effortlessly tearing a condom from inside his leather wallet and slipping it on. Between the time he gets your bare ass on the counter and the sound of the rubber snap, he’s already branded a purple streak onto the side of your neck and you’re embarrassingly wet.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see his length rising from beneath his cable-knit. Bright pink and angry, and so goddamn thick it makes you whimper. Ransom smothers it with his demanding and hungry mouth, impatient at being empty, stinging with whiskey and force. He’s probably never waited on anything in his life and within a short fifteen minutes of meeting him, you know that to be true.

Not a care in the world is given as goosebumps break out all over your arms.

He spins you into the sink countertop and then the two of you are staring at each other in the mirror’s reflection. His hands return to your hips with a bruising clutch and those thick fingers begin to rub the slick between your folds all over your thighs. Fucking A-- It’s good. Idiot rich boy does have the Midas Touch.

One long leg kicks your jeans completely off, sole of his shoes stomping all over them. He’s unforgivingly large and he knows it because everything about Ransom Drysdale is a statement: his clothes, his attitude, his dick. There’s a joke in here somewhere about him being the very epitome of it, but he’s glaring at you with that pretty bottom lip stretched between perfect white teeth and maybe you can forgive the fact that he’s leaving boot marks all over your jeans and bruises in the shape of fingerprints on your back.

“Tell me,” he teases, slipping one finger in, the metal of his ring pressing up against your clit, “Tell me you’ve had it like this before.”

A slow roll of his hips against your ass, letting the weight of his cock pressed hot and tight between his body and yours. You find yourself inching higher, micro-movements attuned to his, staring but unseeing at his face, buzzing with the raw need to be clenching around more than one finger.

“Not like this, not off Glenfiddich, in Jamaica Plain…”

And without thinking, because there isn’t much to think about, you hiss, “Oh, fuck you!”

Ransom chuckles into your ear because your voice breaks just a tad and he’s going to win this fight. Claws and teeth out sharper than knives, he bites down on your shoulder and slips in another finger. The distinct sensations—soft, slippery, strokes and the sting of his teeth—are scrambling your brain.  

He grips himself tight, pushes in with uncharacteristic restraint, and you’re so desperate and aching for it all you can do is push back and pray the sound you might be making isn’t loud enough for everyone in the damn place to hear.

You stifle a grunt with his next languid stroke and Ransom raises an eyebrow, “What? You suddenly shy now?”

It might be just a restroom, but it’s one of the nicest places you’ve ever been inside. Carver’s cigar room’s private single occupancy nook and he’s usurped it to screw you senseless. As if reading your thoughts, he rolls his eyes and continues, glaring at your half-lidded reflection.

“Who gives a shit?” Then, another smirk, “If you’re gonna scream, get my name right.”

Your belly is quivering from the pressure, holding yourself together as best you can before he takes you to pieces. The grooves in his rings cut into your skin. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers crawling up your chin to shove inside your mouth.

Like everything else he’s ever wanted in his life, he’ll own this, too.

And then it’s only punishment. Ransom twists your hair around one fist, other forearm pressing like an anchor on your sternum, wrist shoved through the neckline, hand splayed open and clutching your throat and it goes nearly all the way around. The reflection of your panting mouth and bouncing breasts matching his every thrust is lewd and vile and so goddamn good.

“I bet you fuck on top, don’t you, scholarship?” He releases your throat to pinch your cheeks together, tipping your head derisively, making you nod yourself stupid—awful and humiliating but it unexpectedly thrills.

“Bet you’re too proud to ask.” He makes you nod again, “Bet you want someone to fuck you open just like this—all filthy and sloppy—“

And he doesn’t have to make you agree that time, you’re already limp in expectation and your reflection, damn her, she nods.

He’s still fully dressed, coat swaying to cocoon the both of you in what is probably a hundred thousand dollars. His watch, his rings, his fucking boxers. That stupid cable knit sweater.

A yelp leaks out with your orgasm- unexpected and high and quick, like a wounded animal as you tip your head back onto his shoulder. He doesn’t stop, even for a second. Ransom thrusts deeper, and on the cusp of your second undoing, he licks an errant bead of sweat down the back of your neck.

“You got one more. Yeah, that’s right— one more— God, your pussy loves it. Squeezing me fucking good.” He’s sick. He’s sick and Jesus Christ, aren’t you, too? “Yeah. Push back on my cock. Fuck yourself with it…”

He guides your fingers to your clit with his free hand and begins to rub in motions. Your eyes flutter when he breathes into your ear, “There you go, scholarship, you’ll never get dick this good again—so go ahead and be selfish. I wanna see you all fucked out, fucked stupid, coming all over my dick.”

With two fingers sluiced with your spit, Ransom crams them up next to his cock and you can’t believe how he did it so easily but maybe you can. Yes, filthy and sloppy and never like you’ve had before. Your hands grip the counter top so tightly the tips look white and bloodless and the strained coil inside snaps clean in two.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! God!”

You slump backwards, fingertips to toes shocked tingly numb, boneless and empty of all thought, but he holds you up with ease. Ransom shushes your gasps, paws your breasts and fluttering sternum, runs his hand over your face and throat. The pinch of his fingers returns to your cheeks and he drags his other hand from inside your pussy up into to your mouth. Slick and dripping, a little rubbery from the condom, but otherwise just like yourself.

“Well, look at that. Aren’t you just…”

He pauses to view your blissful face, covered in a sheen layer of sweat, head resting on his shoulder, slanted just enough so that the tip of your nose brushes his jaw. A quick laugh, strangely knowing and a bit sweet or maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, before he turns cold again.

“Make good on your slogan. Get on your fucking knees.”

His hand looks ridiculous, big and strong and wrapped around the best part of him, completely filthy with you smeared over his fist and you slide to your knees, forehead resting briefly on his knee. His pants have fallen around his ankles, boxers still midway, and you’re so exhausted you can hardly do much more than give him a light kiss to his inner thigh—God knows why—before you peel the rubber off.

It lands into the toilet and you obediently stick out your tongue, still panting to catch your breath as Ransom aims toward your open throat. “There you go,” he groans, fisting himself, “That’s it. Don’t let a single drop go to waste.”

And you don’t.

-

“So,” your old mentor asks, familiar low drawl of his voice crackling with the tone of a lifelong smoker, “What do you think?”

A hum passes through from your end as you think about all the ways Ransom Drysdale Thrombey pulled you apart and in all the ways you’ll probably think about for at least a couple of months.

“He’s exactly who you think he is.” You rock back and forth on your feet near the curb, “Disrespectful…” Scholarship, Ransom’s voice sneers, “Selfish…” Who gives a shit? “Manipulative.”

Well look at that… aren’t you just… And the glimmer of those big blue eyes half-crazed with lust and control, drinking in your reflection in the mirror, makes you clench up right there in the parking lot.

“You think he’s a killer?” Blanc asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” You reply, “Depends. He takes what he wants when he wants it… Could care less if he burns the world down with him. You divine the rest.”

Benoit Blanc’s frustrated sigh is all the response you expect him to give. This case with the Thrombeys really has gotten him all twisted up. He wouldn’t have called you for a favor if it didn’t. Of course, when he asked you to check Ransom Drysdale Thrombey out, he’ll be at Carver’s tomorrow around ten, he probably had other scenarios in mind…

“Well,” he mumbles, “Thanks again. These people sure are hell to be around. Give the new Prentisses my best, won’t you?”

You say your goodbyes and tuck your phone back into your pocket, shifting with a wince when the soreness between your legs throbs again. With a sigh into the dark autumn night, you shove your hands inside the center pouch of your hoodie, keeping your head low but still wary enough to find your Uber.

Ransom left you in the restroom about ten minutes ago, sitting on your haunches, still trying to remember how your lungs work. Right before the door shut, he had turned around and gave you one last smirk, pointing right at your top with glee. “How’d I taste, baby?”

Blanc needs to be careful, not that he isn’t— because he always is, as nutty as his brain works, he is. But Ransom is the only Thrombey you’ve met and if there are ten more of them… Blanc would do good to watch his ass and maybe get some extra help.

A jangle disrupts the quiet when you begin to play with what you’ve taken. Jagged metal edges. Heavy iconic insignia laying benignly in your palm before you tug it out.

Idiot. Good dick or not, an idiot is an idiot is an idiot— especially his kind. Didn’t even notice you slipped these right out of his coat pocket. You swing the ring around your flexed pointer in swift, angry circles, keys clanging together before your hand shuts it up.

With a hard wind of your arm back, you fling the set long into the night, satisfied when it lands behind a building some distance away.

Ransom Drysdale, you think, enthusiastic smile growing on your face as your ride pulls around the corner, have fun looking for those tonight.

Dick!

-

Ransom tags: @mermaidxatxheart @dumbubblegum @sapphirescrolls @gothambrat @southerncross47 @bubblegumpeeeach @fiercephantasmagoria @saliarheva @amberakawolfie

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[first-and-last-neocount]

Whumptober Day 3

Now we’re really kicking into high gear on the AUs. This is one of the two AUs for which I’ve written multiple Whumptober fills; this one I’ve been referring to in my head as the Happy Families AU, which is only barely sarcastic, because most of my headcanons for this AU are sickeningly sweet domestic fluff. There’s a few darker bits, though, and that’s what ended up in these fills. 

A couple of notes on this AU setting: Jenseny survived her attempted martyrdom, she ended up leaving the Eastern Continent with Damien and Gerald due to the extreme social unrest there and the lingering prejudice against adepts, and after dealing with Calesta the two of them adopted her. Similar to another AU I’ll be showcasing among these fills, the fae is still Workable and Gerald still has some of his Hunter traits; I’ll go into more detail on my headcanons surrounding that whole topic on a later day, when my head isn’t splitting open from a migraine, which it is currently giving its best shot at. 

Day 3 - Theme Chosen: “Who did this to you?”

“Jen? What's wrong?”

Damien was no adept, but he didn't need to be. He knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the yard. On any other day, his adopted daughter would have been bolting out the front door the moment she heard him reining in his unhorse at the gate; her school let out an hour before he got home from work, and she was invariably waiting, bubbling over with stories about her day. Today, however, the yard had been empty except for the dozing form of their pet weiler, a massive brown-and-black beast named Marchosias that Gerald had picked out – and named – as a puppy two years ago. When Damien unlatched the gate, the dog lifted his blocky head and whuffed once, before rolling over and going back to sleep; reassured that nothing was too terribly awry, Damien had stabled his tired horse, then gone in search of his daughter.

He found her in the sitting room, curled up on the window bench with her homework spread in front of her. She was still wearing the sky blue blouse and ruffled indigo skirt she'd had on when he dropped her off at school that morning, but she'd taken her hair out of its thick braid and let it spill over her shoulders; bent forward over a heavy textbook in her lap, it hung like a curtain, partially shielding her face. Her legs were tucked up alongside her on the cushion, and the position of the door relative to the window meant that Damien was seeing her in profile, limned by the watery autumn sunlight outside. She only barely looked up at him, a sideways flash of her dark brown eyes before her gaze returned to the book in front of her, but her expression was calm and her voice steady when she replied.

“Nothing's wrong, Dad. I just had a long day at school.”

Damien frowned, leaning against the door frame for a moment. Jenseny still didn't look up at him, strangely avoidant; she seemed to only be focusing very hard on whatever she was reading, but the lack of a smile combined with her studiedly level demeanour made a hard knot of anxiety start to form in his gut. He waited a moment, picking his words carefully, before he spoke.

“If something's bothering you, Jen, I'd like to talk about it... but I understand if you don't want to, and you don't have to give me any details if you'd rather not. I'd prefer you to be honest with me, though, so I know it's not something serious.”

Halfway through turning a page, Jenseny's hand froze in midair. The knot in his belly tightening, Damien waited silently. After a moment, Jenseny let go of the page and allowed it to flutter back into place, dropping her hand to rest on her leg where it was tucked up beside her. Damien could see her gnawing on her lip, just a little, her internal war more than obvious; he held himself still, wanting desperately to cross the room and pull her into a hug, but resolved not to pressure her while she made her decision.

Then, hesitantly, she finally turned to face him. She swung her legs off the cushion to do so, sitting upright properly – and as the far side of her face came into view, Damien gasped.

“Jen.”

There was a large, misshapen bruise blooming over her left cheekbone, dark and damning against her warm ochre skin. The facade of calm finally cracked, and Jenseny's lower lip began to tremble, her eyes welling up with a glossy sheen of tears. His heart breaking, Damien was across the room in a few strides, sinking onto the window bench next to her and putting his arm around her; instantly, she sank into him, burying the uninjured side of her face against his shoulder as she muffled a sob. Damien smoothed a hand over her dark curls, the first sparks of fury warring with the sorrow coursing through him.

“Sweetheart, who did this to you?”

For a moment, Jenseny was quiet, though Damien could feel the damp heat of her tears soaking his shirt. When she started to speak, her words were soft and muffled.

“Some of the other kids in my class... don't like me because I'm an adept. They say I shouldn't be in Sheva, because the Forest makes people like me go crazy. The boys mostly just avoid me, and that's fine. I don't need them all to be my friends. Some of the girls, though...”

Of course. Damien felt those sparks of fury start to catch, growing and brightening in his chest. The prejudice of mankind knew no bounds, after all, and even living on a world where the planet's very lifeblood seemed determined to kill them hadn't changed that. He and Gerald had known, when they debated where they were going to live, that there were risks in every answer; Gerald was more than capable of Working a protection that would keep Jenseny shielded from any of the Forest's influence, he was its master after all, but any adept living so close to Jahanna's borders was bound to draw a curious eye or two. They had decided it was worth it, for the distance it afforded from the cities where the Church kept a closer watch, but they had recognized even then that it was far from a perfect solution.

Perhaps more surprising, that the first outright aggression had come from a girl – but it sounded as if it had been more than one, and maybe it wasn't that surprising after all, given how vicious teenage girls could be when emboldened by numbers.

“What did they do?” Damien murmured.

Jenseny pulled in a deep breath and straightened up, wiping at her wet eyes as she choked out the words.

“They cornered me after class. There were five of them – they're the most popular girls in class, they always hang out together. They were making fun of me, saying that I'm going to go crazy too, that I'll probably wind up jumping into the river like that poor man last year... but then, one of them said that I might take somebody else with me.” Jenseny paused for a moment, drawing in a shuddering breath. “The whole mood shifted, I could See them all getting angrier – and they were scared, too. I could feel it pouring off them, and I was so afraid, because it felt – it felt like it used to, in the cities, on the nights when they...”

She trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the thought, but she didn't have to. Damien felt as if an iron band was squeezing his chest. He knew exactly what she was referring to; those horrific nights, on the Eastern Continent, when the governors of the cities had staked adepts outside in the forest to act as bait for demons. He could only imagine the atmosphere of mingled terror and bloodlust that must have accompanied that practice, and for Jenseny's classmates to be in that same state...

After a few steadying breaths, Jenseny went on. “One of them, the girl that always bosses the others around, said I should leave. That I need to get out of Sheva, and never come back, so I won't make any trouble for normal people.” She shut her eyes, pain flickering over her expression, and Damien felt the first true flames of fury igniting in his heart. “Then they were all shoving me, and one of them tripped me – I didn't see which one – and I hit my face on the side of the flowerbed when I fell.”

When she opened her eyes again, they shone with fresh tears. “I ran straight home, but I didn't – I didn't want to make you and Papa worry. I know it hasn't been easy adjusting to living here, especially for Papa, not having his books or his workrooms anymore... we're all just finally starting to settle in. I don't want us to have to move. I don't want you to be worried every time I'm at school, either. They were all so angry at me, though... I don't know if I can just go back and pretend nothing happened.”

Damien had to close his own eyes for a moment, overcome. God. She's been through so much, and still, her first thoughts are for others. Was I ever that selfless? If I was, I've forgotten what that felt like. Age and loss have made me selfish.

And then. Selfish enough to be willing to do almost anything, to protect my family.

Drawing in a deep breath, Damien opened his eyes and met his daughter's worried gaze steadily. “We're not going to have to move, Jen. And those girls aren't going to hurt you again. I need you to give me their names, though.”

Jenseny's eyes widened, and Damien wondered what she saw, as her eyes flickered over the air around him; he knew she was reading the currents, Seeing the reflection of his emotions in the fae. At last, she whispered the question he'd known was coming.

“What are you going to do?”

“They won't get hurt,” he said quietly, answering the question that she really meant but hadn't quite asked. “But they also won't ever hurt you again.”

Jenseny considered that for a moment. Then, quietly, she gave him the names of the five girls.

“Thank you.” Damien opened his arms for a hug that Jenseny gladly leaned into, then pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her curls. “Why don't you go call Marc in for dinner, and then you can help me make our famous family spaghetti, how does that sound?”

Jenseny's eyes lit up. “That sounds great!” she exclaimed, her natural cheer finally breaking through the melancholy that had gripped her. She kissed his cheek, then bounded off the window bench and headed out of the room. At the doorway, she paused with one hand on the frame and glanced back, her smile falling into something smaller, warmer, and profoundly meaningful.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Then she was gone, around the corner and out the front door, calling enthusiastically for Marchosias. Hearing the dog's booming bark in response, Damien smiled and closed his eyes, reaching for the link that lay between his own soul and his husband's. Currently quiescent, but always present, and only ever a thought away.

Gerald?

A moment later, he felt a warm thrum of acknowledgement, mixed with a thread of concern; Gerald's hours at the city's Historical Archives weren't much different from Damien's hours at the hospital, and it was rare for them to communicate through the link during the work day unless something fairly urgent had happened.

I'm just finishing my last lecture of the day. What's wrong?

Damien opened his eyes in time to see Marchosias go bounding by the sitting room door, an entirely too-large blur of black and brown fur skidding across the polished wood floor as his own enthusiasm exceeded the friction of his paws, Jenseny following after him in a burst of laughter. Damien smiled more widely, and directed another thought down the link.

Tonight, after dinner, we're going... out.

He felt a burst of surprise from his husband, shifting into anticipation and curiosity; Gerald's focus on the link grew, and Damien felt his husband's mind slide against his own, picking through his recent thoughts for an explanation. He offered up the memories of his conversation with their daughter, and felt a flicker of understanding and recognition.

I see. Yes. I couldn't agree more.

As the thoughts intertwined with his own grew dark and hungry, Damien stood and headed for the kitchen to start dinner. He and Gerald might still have their ideological differences, but there was one thing they agreed perfectly on.

No one was ever going to hurt their daughter. Not without answering to them.

[gongju-juice]

8. Once Upon a Southern Night

The Wrath of Nature

Warnings: Fighting, the usual, language

It was a cold, damp morning when they arrived. Nature seemed to acknowledge the supernatural army’s presence, for not even a bird or cricket made a single chirp in the golden morning. Beside you, Jasper, your family, your friends, Zacarias, and the wolf tribe stood. You held your boyfriend’s hand, trying not to tremble from pure fear and the billowing wind that was so oddly cold this late in the spring. 

And when you saw her, your terror quadrupled. 

Her olive skin lightly sparkled in the morning rays, thick, black hair cascading elegantly down her bare, uncovered shoulders. She was dressed like she could be headed to Florida for vacation instead of the chilly environment that was Washington. Her piercing red eyes found yours, and your heart quivered in response.

Preston was even more unnerving. His hair had been let down, straight and free which covered his ears. He wore a long black coat that stopped at his mid-thighs as well as a wide-brimmed hat and leather black boots. He was eerily relaxed for a person who intended to go to war. 

Behind them were the newborns. They sauntered in the shadow of the trees, their glowing eyes full of hate and pure instinct. Some were young—looking no older than the age of fifteen. Others appeared to be in their late twenties. But none were over the age of thirty.

“Friends,” Maria called, but her voice was barely loud enough for you to make out. She was having a private conversation with the wolves, one she did not intend for you to hear. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen some of your faces. You, especially, Jasper. It’s been—what? Just over a century now.”

“Take your newborns and leave,” Jasper advised. “We left on a mutual agreement that you supported my search for tranquility. Does that agreement no longer stand?”

She tsked. “Jasper, Jasper, ever the romantic. You never liked violence, did you? I may be immortal, but a hundred years is still a long time. And besides, the Captain made such a tempting offer.”

Preston walked a few paces forward, his heels crunching in the soft grass. “I’ve waited forever for this. I thought my Camille was gone forever, that is, until I heard of a little baby being born in New Orleans. You wouldn’t believe how fast news spreads in the Crescent City.”

“So why didn’t you take her then?” your mother demanded. “Before I adopted her, before she had the chance to fall in love with Jasper, her mate?”

“I had to get my thirst under control. Living completely unrestrained is so satisfying, but when it comes to associating with humans, it’s impossible to stay decent. I didn’t know at the time that witches could change, but if I did, trust me, you or any of you rotten Cullens would have gotten to her first.”

Your breath caught in your throat. And to think this man had known about you along.

“That’s right, Jasper,” he chuckled, much to Jasper’s dismay. “I was watching from afar—every birthday, every school dance, and every vacation. You think she belongs to you? I know her inside and out, 19th century and 21st century. And when I was finally ready to bring her back with me, you just had to interfere.”

“You disgust me,” you spat. “You couldn’t win me over properly, so you had to become a perv. I will never love you.”

He lifted his head in the air, his dark eyes closed. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

The newborns behind him began charging, and those around you met them, alabaster limbs meeting alabaster targets. The young vampires were faster, stronger. But the Cullens and your friends’ combined experience forced them back until they could be dealt with individually.

In front of you, Zacarias and Ava worked hard keeping the waves of bodies back. It was then that you noticed the small, determined girl standing in between Maria and Preston. She looked no older than ten, someone who must’ve been easily manipulated to do their bidding. But one thing for sure, she was definitely a witch. And a powerful one at that.

“I should do something!” you cried. “I’m a witch, I can fight!”

Jasper held you back. “Your skills are not up to par. If you go out there, you’ll be killed. Or worse, Preston will get to you.”

Suddenly, a pale white arm came flying past you. Emmett barreled near carrying a decapitated body. His bulging muscles sparkled from the effort.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll have him ‘em all in no time.”

But that’s when Maria broke out of her formation. She wrangled Alice by her throat, her dainty legs swinging in the empty air. 

“If you won’t face me, then I’ll make you come.” 

“Alice, no!”

Jasper sprung towards them, his lightning speed barely registering in your mind. Alice’s face was contorted, the sickening crack of her neck like shattering glass. Maria smiled menacingly.

But before he could get there, his body was gripped in an invisible force that froze him in place. His amber eyes were completely overcome with a blue glow. Zacarias and Ava both worked to free him—Ava concentrating on Maria’s steele grip and Zacarias focusing on the tiny witch’s magic.

The hair behind your ear fluttered, you felt his cold breath in its stead.

“I told you. You are mine, you will always be mine.”

You tried to propel yourself away, but he snatched you by your arm, pulling you across his shoulder like a sack of rice. It was futile to fight like you did, to beat your fists on his back and kick your legs. But nevertheless, you struggled in vain.

“Y/N!” your mother called, but she was thrown down by a newborn so hard, her torso shattered from the force. And Ava, she tried to get to you, but the little witch wrapped her in blue light, her powers and range of mobility completely incapacitated. Meanwhile, Zacarias tried to hold the front for both the vampires and Maria.

This is it, you thought. Back to your chains. Preston would not give up his tirade. His muscles tensed and you sensed he was preparing to run. Before he could do so, however, a line of sun-tanned bodies emerged from the thick throes of the forest.

He stopped, his eyes widening in rage. “No! No! We had a deal!”

The first one to speak had long, gray braids covered in beads and ribbons that fell down her back. Her skin was golden brown and covered in elaborate tattoos which stretched down her arms. 

“The deal was that you’d take care of the girl, restore her back to her proper time. That was the only reason we allowed Maaliyah to come with you. But then we learned your true intentions—and no witch would ever bring you back to the 19th century.”

He shook his head, placing you on the ground beside him. “We belong together, Queen Lovie. In the 1860s. Help us restore the timeline, we don’t belong here.”

“No,” she said, “you do. You’re a vampire, you aged as a vampire should. But she was de-aged and taken to this time and century. She will go back, but you will stay.”

She waved her hand, and you were blinded in white light.

You looked around and you were standing in the Oakleigh mansion’s library. A wall of books lined the wall, silk curtains fluttering from the afternoon breeze. In the corner of the room was a crumpled American flag on the cherry wood floor, and up on the wall was the red and blue Confederate flag proudly displayed on the wall. 

You approached the glossy desk, examining the thin papers covering the surface. A broad newspaper, The Mobile Press Register, sat on one of the open bibles. The date at the top read, December 25, 1862.

“It’s you,” you whispered, lifting your eyes. “You’re my mother.”

She was dressed in a servant’s dress, her thick hair unmoisturized and unkempt due to the hard years of work in the fields. But she looked just like you, and she resembled your sister, Ava. 

“For years I’ve watched you from the spirit realm, watching you grow and mature under the care of a stranger. I watched you do things your father and I only dreamed we could see come true.” Reaching forward, she brushed her calloused fingers against your cheek.

You were filled with memories from another life—playing in dirt-floor shacks, braiding the other little girls’ hair with flowers and twigs, singing songs by the riverside on Sunday mornings. It was your life on the plantation, a happy, pleasant life. Your happiness did not solely revolve around Preston, and for years, the two of you encountered a rift from the ages of ten until fifteen. 

It wasn’t until his sixteen birthday did he start looking at you in that way, and it was only because his friends and male family members did it first. He wanted his own girl to call his own, something he could completely control and possess outside the realm of fancy dresses the daughters of wealthy girls flaunted when they visited the estate.

He never loved you—not the way a real man loves a woman. If his desire had a color, it would be blazing red. But Jasper. Jasper’s love was tender like lavender. Gentle and light like cornflower blue.

“I won’t let them undo what I sacrificed my life for,” she promised. “I knew they would try this eventually. That’s why I cast a spell, forever keeping you in the future. I won’t let you come back to this place, I won’t ever let you experience that pain—the pain you felt when my grandchild was lost.”

She waved her hand, and the view of the room began to fade.

“Please, Mama!” you cried, falling to your knees and the skirt of her dress. “I will never see you again! I lost so many good memories of you. . .I don’t even remember your name.”

She kneeled down, placing a feather-like kiss on the top of your forehead. Together, you cried in the receding reality of the room. She was sending you back home.

“Nothing—not time nor man—could take you away from me, baby. I will always be in your heart, even if you can’t quite remember it all. I would rather you hold on to the feeling, the love we had, rather than the details. Take that love and give it to Carmine, to the Cullens, and to Jasper.”

You opened her eyes, and she was gone. Elizabeth. Her name was Elizabeth.

“That damned woman,” Queen Lovie laughed mirthlessly, her hands resting on her hips. “She just don’t know when to quit—even after death. Well then, I guess if the Goddess would have it so, there’s nothing we can do.”

“But what about us?” Preston shouted. “The deal we had?”

“There is no deal, don’t you see? If she would have you, then by all means, I wish you a happily ever after. But it seems she hates you as much as you hate yourself,” Darla, Queen Lovie’s attendant, snapped. “And the witches have nothing to do with that.”

Maria’s grip failed, and Alice came bouncing to her feet as she ran away. Now the playing field was unequally matched. The newborns, in the meantime, were slaughtered by the Cullens and friends, it was just Maria and Preston on the opposing side. 

“It’s over,” you said. “You lost. Accept it, and move on. Life isn’t over, Preston. You have centuries to change your ways.”

He hung his head, fists curled at his side. He lunged.

You held him in mid-air. Your meeting with your mother completely empowered you. You were not some scared little girl. He did not own you, and he never would.

“I could kill you. Nobody would ever miss you. Nobody would ever care. But your life is not mine to claim. Every creature is subject to the wrath of nature, and you will meet that same fate.”

He shuddered violently before his eyes transformed from its vibrant crimson to their river gray. His brilliant pale skin became darker and darker until it was naturally tan, and the inhuman strength once residing within him gradually drained away.

“What. . .what did you do to me?”

“I made you human,” you explained. “To reflect on your actions. No matter what, if a vampire ever tries to turn you, not only will you die, but they will die too. You’re going to spend the next seventy or so years of your human existence regretting ever threatening my family. Since you blame Jasper so much for your vampiric life, you can thank him for delivering you back out into your second human life.”

He fell to the ground, coughing at the sudden impact. Maria’s wild eyes flashed at you, weighing her options. But you knew and she knew; she couldn’t get away.

“But you, bitch, I’m sending you straight to hell.”

When it was over, everybody rushed to their loved ones, throwing their arms around them, holding them close. The emotions were too much, you cried into Jasper’s chest as he cradled you. You refused to put him through the pain of killing two of the closest people in his lives. Yes, the Major would relish in their deaths, but Jasper—your Jasper would feel their pain. He would never be the same.

He didn’t have to say anything, but he professed his love for you as he held you quietly in the midst of the celebration. You were finally together, obstructed by no one or nothing. He reciprocated your emotions which multiplied twice as much, which then came back to you once again. It was a never ending cycle of love and joy, you felt high off of it.

“She really is the most powerful witch there is,” Zacarias said, breathlessly. “Her mother passed on her powers. She. . .teach me for crying out loud!”

Your mom, Carmine, wrapped you and Jasper both in her strong embrace. You didn’t feel the loss of a mother, but the addition of another. One to watch you on Earth and another to watch you in heaven.

One more chapter left and it’s sMuT.

Be safe mah bois, and remember: Black Lives Matter

@frozenhuntress67

Part Six  Part Seven

[angelguk]

» breakfast in bed - jeongguk scenario

Jeon Jeongguk - BTS

words - 2.6k

genre - college!au, smut, established relationship, drabble

warnings - oral sex (fem receiving) / switch!jeongguk / baby boy is just whipped for the way you look in the morning / unprotected sex (use condoms in real life plz) / this was very much inspired by that airport look i love one (1) man

soundtrack - lukas graham, love someone / daniel caesar, beauty & essex

gif credit: @ggukbwi

“Why are you watching me sleep?” You mumbled out, voice still rough in your throat. The words felt heavy falling from your mouth, tongue still asleep, but with the morning sunlight streaming into Jeongguk’s bedroom your body was slowly waking itself up. It didn’t help that you could feel his gaze raking against your skin, even with your own shut tightly.

“I’m not! Your face isn’t that gorgeous,” Jeongguk huffed back, rolling closer to you. A delicate press of lips against the back of your neck tenderly drew you away from the embrace of slumber. You felt a wave of heat pulse underneath your skin, responding unconsciously to touch you’d become accustomed too and yet still managed to overwhelm you every time you were near him. Another kiss, this time harder and leaving a tepid print of his mouth on your skin. You could feel the smile on his mouth as he moved to murmur in your ear, fingertips grazing gently against your bare arms. “But good morning love.”

Your eyes fluttered open, greeted by sinewy muscles enclosing around your waist, Jeongguk’s half-lidded eyes gazing at your as he moved into to press a kiss on your forehead. You revelled in his touch, twisting around so you could slot yourself against his bare chest, the movement of his muscles as his arm tightened around you sending a rush of warm to your core. Jeongguk always slept as naked as he possibly could, foregoing shirts and pants for loose boxers and bare skin. You never objected it but sometimes it worked against you – like in the morning when you really needed to get out of bed but instead all you can think about is how warm the bed is with him in it and how carved out the thighs entrapping you were and whether not Jeongguk would let your ride them before breakfast.

“Neither are you,” You murmured into the downy pillows, lips twitching into a smile when you felt him press his mouth against the crock of your neck once more, his hips bucking gently against your own. “Good morning babe, shouldn’t we get breakfast?”

The hand around your waist snaked down towards your crotch, fingertips lightly caressing your thighs. “Breakfast is right here.”

You choked out a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” Another kiss to your neck, one that had you stretching in order to give him more access. You couldn’t help but melt into him, your mind was not fully alert and the only thing you could focus on was the way he turned your nerves into fireworks and sent your skin aflame with the slightest touch. And he knew what he was doing because his fingers slid up your thighs, pulling aside your underwear.

“How are you always this wet?” Jeongguk was devouring your neck, lips nipping at your sensitive skin while the pads of his fingertips coated themselves in your slick, slowly parting your folds and dragging themselves right up to your clit.

“My boyfriend is a sex maniac, what do you expect from that.” Jeongguk flicked your clit in retaliation, sending a tidal wave of desire straight to your core, coupled with the press of his erection against your ass, the familiar knot in your gut was forming rapidly.

“And yet I’ve never heard you complain.”

“I don’t mind-” You arched into his bulge. He’d dipped two of his fingers into your pussy, his groan muffled into your skin. You’d gotten used to the stretch Jeongguk’s fingers gave you and yet it still took your breath away – how his hands could elicit such a response from you’d never know.

“I thought you wanted to eat me out?” You whined, thighs covered in your slick as Jeongguk’s fingers snapped into you.

“Relax baby, I’m getting there. I want you to come on my fingers first.”

Jeongguk was probably going to get what he wanted, judging from the way your thighs occasional twitched when the pads of his fingertips pressed against that familiar spot inside you. You were wantonly moaning now, your little gasps colouring the air and sending a rush of blood straight to Jeongguk’s already hard cock.

You looked so pretty like this, hair still a mess and eyes fluttering shut with every snap of his fingers into your cunt. Waking up beside you in the morning always made him feel emotions he could never put into words. He wanted to wrap you in his arms forever but he also wanted to eat your out for hours. Just because you happened to look especially cute in the morning. But he’d never tell you that, at least not outright.

“Jeongguk,” He’d curled his fingers, pressing them into that spot with every thrust into your pussy. He was coaxing the orgasm right out of you. You found yourself coming apart after he found his way back to your clit, rubbing it in a way that had ripples of pleasure rushing to your core.

“F-fuck.” You ground into his hips, the curve of his cock slotting right in between your ass. You could feel the drip of precum leaking from him, the fabric of his boxers getting in the way. Those should have come off moments ago. But Jeongguk hadn’t touched himself, just watched you with darkened eyes has your sloppily rode his fingers until your high ebbed away.

“Was that good?”

You huffed, walls fluttered around his drenched fingers in response, evoking a smile from Jeongguk that had you aching to kiss him.

“Come – come here,” You fingers reached out for him, legs feeling like mush underneath you as flipped yourself around in order to get your hands on his dick. His fingers slipped from your cunt, leaving your empty and needy but you knew something would be filling you soon.

His own hands stopped your movements, a satisfied grin on his face as he rose onto his knees. A second later he was in front of you, pushing your back into the duvet and spreading your legs apart. Your underwear was tugged off before you could blink but Jeongguk’s stayed on despite the fabric stretching in protest. You wanted to reach out and pull it off for him but the look in his brown eyes as his gaze slithered down your body held you still.

“Baby, take your top off,” He was yanking at the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from his closet last night. You obliged, gladly stripping it off, leaving your body complete bare, illuminated by the warm rays of sun filtering in through closed curtains. Jeongguk’s mouth was your breasts a moment later, enclosing your nipple in a wet warmth that reigniting the buzz that had been firing underneath your skin, toes curling into the sheets when he playfully nipped at them.  Your hands found themselves raking through his soft mahogany tresses, yanking whenever he’d drag his tongue a certain way against your sensitive nipples. The groans slipping from his throat made your thighs twitch with need.

Then he glanced up at you, eyes wide and dark with desire with his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples. He pulled off with a wet plop, moving up to mold his mouth against yours.

Kissing Jeongguk was an activity you’d never get tired of. Sometimes they were rough, with teeth clashing and harsh nips but this one, in the glow of the early morning, was something else. He coaxed open your mouth, warm tongue sliding against your lips until you returned the favor, intertwining your mouths together. When he pulled away you could feel the press of his mouth against your own, lips still buzzing.

Jeongguk’s lips trailed down your chest, leaving your skin vibrating, until his mouth landed on your cunt, tongue slipping between the folds, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight of Jeongguk between your legs was something you wanted to be engraved on your memory. His tousled brown hair vaguely obscured his eyes and your hands moved forward, yanking the hair back as he dragged his tongue across your pussy. Undeniably, Jeongguk was very very skilled at eating you out, he knew how to alternate between short quick flicks that left your back arching and long strips of his tongue that had you're grinding your pussy into his face. And he didn’t mind making a mess – in fact he preferred it when he left your legs with his mouth covered in your slick.

At this point you were a mess, your fingernails scraping against his scalp as you whined with every press of his lips against you. Jeongguk loved it, the way you’d buck against tongue, the sounds you’d made as he unravelled you with his mouth. That was probably why he loved eating you out so much. You sounded so wrecked and it made him ruin you even more.

“Jeongguk – ahhah” Your hips were moving on their own accord, his fingertips clasped around your hips holding them down. He could tell your close again from the way your chest heaved with every haggard breath you took in and the occasional flutter of your walls every time he slipped his tongue into your soaking core.

You whined in frustration when he pulled away, glancing down to find his eyes wide and blown out, and mouth glossy with your slick. He grinned, the bed dipping underneath his weight as he shuffled forward, your legs still spread apart, pressing his hard clothed cock against your pussy.

“Fuck, baby you’re so wet. So fucking wet, you’re killing me.” Jeongguk’s mouth found yours once again, his hips snapping into you as your fingers dug into his back.

You hummed, pulling away when you felt his boxers rubbing you the wrong way. “Take this damned thing off.” You dug your fingers into the fabric, impatiently ripping away at the fabric, until Jeongguk gave in, rising up so you could pull it down his thighs. He immediately kicked it into the corner of the room, leaning back down to slip his cock in between your folds.

You didn’t expect the groan that left his lips as they slotted right back against yours. His weight forced you to spread your legs further apart, giving him more room to coat his dick in your essence. His thrusts we controlled, almost as if he was holding himself back given the telling tensing of his muscles underneath your fingertips.

“Condom?” He asked, pulling away to reveal his swollen pink lips. His hair was a royal mess and his face was flushed, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head. Your period was relatively close anyway. The sigh Jeongguk gave as he rutted against you sent another wave of want dripping out of you.

“Can I come inside?”

“Depends on how good you fuck me,” You retorted. You were aching for something inside you and while you enjoyed the way Jeongguk looked grinding his cock against your pussy you’d much rather have him inside you.

He cocked an eyebrow, pausing his ministrations as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Is that a challenge?”

“I never said it like that but take it that way if you want to.”

He huffed indignantly, yanking you towards him. “If you can keep quiet I’ll pull out but if you make noise I get to cum inside.”

“Deal.”  

Jeongguk was guiding his cock down your pussy to your fluttering core, pausing to gather some of the slick and rub himself down before he realigned himself and thrust into you in one harsh motion.

You bit your lip, holding back the surprised moan that slipped from your throat. He glanced up, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as you sunk down on his cock, the stretch making your stomach cave in longing.  

“Look at you,” Jeongguk commented, shallowly thrusting, the pads of his fingertips on your clit once more. It wasn’t hard for the searing warmth that had ebbed away to resurface once more, leaving your skin tepid and humming underneath his hands. “You take my cock so well, baby girl.” Another series of thrusts, this time with more purpose, had your fisting the bed sheets around you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jeongguk leaned forward, forcing your legs open so that he could pound into you from an angle that had you biting your tongue as your hummed out your moans. His mouth found the spot on your neck that he’d been working at earlier, tongue pressing into the sensitive skin as his cock thrusted into your wet cunt.

“Tell me how much you love this baby. I know you do,” His nipped at your neck, hands now holding your hips up as he fucked you. “Come on, I know you want to.”

“Fuck you Jeon Jeongguk,” You ground out, trying to level your breathing.

His laugh melted into your skin, hips stuttering to a pause. “Baby please, I really want to cum inside you. Just moan.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes but you kept your mouth shut. He glanced at you, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Oh, so we’re really playing it like that.”

You nodded, dragging your fingers across the nape of his neck, reeling in the way he leaned into the touch.

“Bet.”

In a second, Jeongguk had you folded in half, hips brutally slamming into your own as he fucked you into the mattress. It took all your will power to not scream out his name. His cock was slamming right into your that spot and oh-

“Fuck! Jeongguk-uh! F-fuck!” Waves of pleasure floated through your system, leaving your back arching in vain attempt to bring him closer. But Jeongguk was already so deep – so fucking deep into you and you didn’t know where you ended and he began.  “Baby, please - please, just make me cum. I c-can’t take it.”

Jeongguk pressed his mouth against your neck, his smile evident. His thrusts became more erratic, wilder as his hips stuttered into your own, his groans and sighs not lost to your ears. You involuntarily flexed your walls around him, his wrecked groan leaving you dripping all over his cock. You could feel him twitching against your, aim getting sloppier with every snap.

His fingers joined his motions, rubbing against your clit until you were whining and mindless bucking into the feeling, the building wave within your core crashing down with one particular direct thrust into your pussy.

“Fuck.” The world felt loose as your melted into the bed beneath you, toes curling as Jeongguk kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. He found it a moment later, hips coming to a jutting halt as he pressed himself into you, almost as if he wanted to mold your bodies together, spurts of cum hitting your inner walls as he groaned into your ear.

He rolled off a moment later, eyes closing as satisfaction melted through his body. His hand came to rest upon on your stomach, tracing idle patterns as you scooted into his arms, cum dripping from your pussy.

“Now I have to go and shower,” You muttered. “Just because you wanted to nut in me.”

His eyes cracked open. “Sit on my face, I’ll clean you up.” You paused, momentarily considering a third orgasm when your stomach grumbled. Jeongguk laughed, chest rising against your own. “Or is breakfast more important?” He asked with a soft smile on his face.

“If you’re fast we can go to Jerry’s for pancakes afterward,” You offered, pulling his face closer to yours so could press a kiss against his mouth.

“I’m fine with that.”

You moved, getting on your knees so that your sling your legs around Jeongguk’s face when a knock on his bedroom door had your froze you in your steps.

“Um.” It was Namjoon. “Could you keep it down, some of us are trying to sleep.”

Jeongguk’s laugh against your thigh had something warm and gentle blooming in your chest, a content smile unwittingly painting itself on your face. His tongue licked a gentle strip against your pussy, the taste of both of you slipping into his mouth.

“Try and stay quiet this time baby.”

[paisley-print]

CHAPTER FIVE: THE POISONED

CHAPTER ONE: THE HUNTER / CHAPTER TWO: THE HUNTED / CHAPTER THREE: THE STARVED / CHAPTER FOUR: THE JAILBIRD

-

Synopsis: Ino and Din search for a way to cut through the mountains...however it might not be as easy as they were expecting. 

TW: Graphic images of child illness 

-

Neither one of them spoke after they woke from their slumber. Two more wake cycles to go, then sunlight for the next three. Ino preferred the sunlight. At least it wasn’t completely dark - the sun sat low enough in the horizon to allow a small strip of pink to show for most of the day.

The village was much quieter than it had been a few hours ago. It was still early in the wake cycle though; the others were probably still sleeping. Physically, Ino was happy, she was clean and fed, but mentally she was more confused about her feelings than ever. 

The Mandalorian ducked into a shop while Ino stayed outside to admire a stall that sold fabric. After he realized she wasn’t following, he peeked his head out.“Hey, stay where I can see you.”

“Yes, father.”

“I’m serious.”

She enjoyed seeing him get a little annoyed “I’m sure you are!”

He shook his head and disappeared into the shop. Strings of beads clinked together as Din parted the curtain in order to enter. The space was small, artifacts, traveling gear, and leather maps were all covered in a fine layer of dust. 

The shopkeeper emerged from a room in the back. “Is there anything I can help you with today, sir?”

Din wasted no time “I need an orbak and a guide to get over the mountains.”

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow “for what reason?”

Din was careful not to give him any more information than necessary. “I’m traveling to the capital.”

“There is a popular route around the mountains. ”

The Mandalorian shook his head and made a sweeping gesture with his hands. “I don’t have that kind of time.”

“There is one man you can ask but…” the shopkeeper trailed off, finding it hard to put into words.

Din placed both hands on the counter and leaned forward a little “but what?” 

The shopkeeper lowered his voice. “I have not seen him for the past few weeks. His daughter - well, she has taken ill.”

“What if I were to speak with him?”

The shopkeeper was certain, “he will not go.”

“It’s for the princess” The Mandalorian interrupted “a direct order from the king.”

Eyes shifted from the wall of beskar to the golden-haired princess sitting on the stoop outside the shop. One hand was resting on her knee, propping up her head, while the other was idly tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick. 

-

“Where are we going?” Ino panted, half jogging to keep up with him. 

The Mandalorian glanced from the parchment in his hand to the rows of houses deeper in the village. “To speak with the guide and see if he can take us through the mountains.”

A two story cottage matching the number on the paper stood in the very back of the settlement. At first glance, it looked as if no one was home. Once they got closer, however, slits of amber shining through closed curtains gave away the presence of someone inside. The Mandalorian breezed up to the door and landed two sharp knocks.

There was shuffling from within, then a creaking as the door was pulled open. A man of average height and slightly above average weight was standing at the threshold. His jet black hair was styled into braids that reached his shoulders. He looked tired.

“Can I help you?” He asked cautiously.

Din was not a man of formalities. “I was told you can help us on our journey.” 

Upon hearing the word ‘us’ the man turned his head to look at Ino, then he immediately bent at the waist as a sign of respect.

A pink blush formed across her cheeks. 

The man stood up straight again and began stumbling over himself, trying to craft an apology that he felt was sufficient. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize - you here, it wasn’t something that crossed my mind.”

Ino stepped forward to assure him. “It is completely understandable, sir. Do not worry.”

“Rowan, your grace. You may call me Rowan.”

“Rowan” Ino smiled.

Rowan addressed the Mandalorian again, “what was it you needed assistance with?”

“Crossing the mountains,” Din responded. 

Rowan scratched his head and turned to look at something inside his house. He was visibly upset by the request. “Your grace, under normal circumstances it would be an honor to assist you. However, my daughter is quite sick and I would not feel comfortable leaving her for that long a trip.”

“Maybe we can help,” Din responded.

Rowan thought it over for a moment “I fear that it’s a rather unsettling sight. I would care to spare the princess from such an image.”

Ino spoke “thank you for your concern, but I believe I can handle it.”

“Of course your grace” and with that Rowan stepped aside to let them into the house. The cottage was small but extremely tidy. There was a kitchen to the left and a sitting area to the right. Across from them was a staircase that led up to the second level.

Standing in the kitchen was a woman much shorter than the rest of them. She dried her hands on the fabric of her apron while walking forward to greet them. Soft brown curls spilled out from the kerchief atop her head all the way to her lower back. She didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see the m. “Your grace” she said and gave a polite curtsy.

“This” Rowan said, placing a hand on the woman’s lower back, “is my wife Thea.”

Din rested his hands on his belt and tilted his helmet towards the woman. 

Ino could tell that he was getting antsy “may we see you’re daughter miss? We've come to help.”

Thea’s expression did not change. She wasn’t cold towards them nor was she friendly instead her presence was void of emotion entirely. “Right this way” Thea led them over to the sitting area, the logs in the fireplace cracked and popped as they passed the grate.

The girl, only fourteen, laid completely still on the sofa. Her skin took on a marble like appearance, bright blue veins twisted themselves across pale glossy flesh. Her eyes were open and clouded from the inside. The most horrifying feature however was her mouth; stuck in a completely silent state of screaming.

“What is her name?” Ino asked.

“Isabel” Rowan responded.

Ino was the first to move. Din’s arm twitched in a weak attempt to stop her as she knelt down beside the girl. Ino listened to the girls breathing, then took two fingers and placed them gently on her neck, feeling for a heartbeat…. She was very much alive. “How long has she been like this?”

“A little over a fortnight” Rowan responded.

Ino gently fixed the blanket she disturbed, then returned to a standing position. “I assume you know what from?”

A look of shame crossed Rowan's features. “Yes,” he said finally “I- never intended on-”

Din turned to address Ino “wait, you know what this is?”

“I do” Ino confirmed. “Poisoned. The nectar of a flower called Trorn.”

Rowan began to sob. “The vial I had collected- it broke open in my satchel. Later that day, I asked Isabel to retrieve my notebook from the bag, she cut herself on the glass. It was a mistake I-”

The Mandalorian straightened and placed a hand on his holster. “Why were you collecting poison?”

“I know,” Rowan said “it is not an honorable trade for a man to take -”

The Mandalorian repeated his question again, slower this time. “Why were you collecting poison?”

Rowan took a breath “to fulfil a request.”

“From who?” Din demanded. 

“In truth, I do not know. Someone high in the capital.” Rowan confessed. “I do not do this often, I promise you. Only once in a blue moon for a sum worth my while.”

Din gestured to Isabel, “was this worth your while.” 

Ino stepped in to save the room from spiraling into chaos. “There is an animal that produces a venom that, in small quantities, can reverse the effects of Trorn. This animal is…. rather difficult to capture. They live in caves and usually exist in large pacts.”

Thea spoke “and these creatures, they live close?”

“If there are caves around, possibly. It is rather hard to say for certain.”

The Mandalorian had enough of this. He started for the door “come on.”

Ino knitted her brows together and followed him. “Where are you going?”

The Mandalorian crossed the threshold of the front door. “Back to the pub, I’m sure there is someone there willing to take us.”

Ino balled up her fists and turned around in a flurry of skirts to respond to the family, “we will help you get the venom.” 

Din halted his stride and turned to face Ino. He leaned over her shoulder, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “What are you doing?”

She matched his pitch, turning to face him “they need help.”

Din maneuvered himself in front of her and forced her to march backwards, leading her away from the front door and around to the side of the house. He wanted to make certain that nobody heard them. “Have you forgotten what we’ve come to do?”

 “It can wait,” she protested. 

Din was having none of it “the longer we stay in one place the more dangerous this all becomes. There are hunters crawling all over this planet looking for you. The word is already out that you are here it’s only a matter of time before they find you. Besides, you heard him, he is working with them-”

“He is a desperate man who is narrowly managing to scrape by- that does not make him a villain. Balthar has his champions coat their swords with Trorn before duels. All of them. He gets pleasure from it, that has nothing to do with me. I cannot in good faith continue on if I know Isabel is stuck like that. Imagine if it was you? Besides, I think it would be wise to collect our bearings and figure how we are going to take Balthar down before we charge the castle on our two-man crusade.”

He hated how stubborn she was, for once he wished she would listen to him. Din couldn’t explain it, he just had a terrible feeling about all of this. “You are not obligated to save everyone. It’s too dangerous-”

Ino shook her head “Why does everyone always say that to me? I am so done with that excuse. I am fully capable- in-fact if it wasn’t for me, they would be fishing our bodies from that ravine right about now.” She took a breath to calm herself down and looked him square in the face. “I want to be something more than just a delicate little flower everybody is obligated to wait on. If I stand by and let this girl suffer, then I am no more deserving of the crown, then Balthar or the hundreds of selfish kings that came before me. Including my father. Please. Allow me to earn the respect of my people.”

How could he deny her that? He searched her eyes for a moment…. those goddamn eyes. Large, pleading, recklessly optimistic. They held enough power in them to make entire armies surrender with just one glance. Din Djarin was only one man, he was always going to lose. “Promise me something.”

Ino nodded.

“You will listen to every order I give you when we are in there. There is no room for mistakes. Got it?”

Ino beamed at him “I promise.” She would have hugged him if she could.

Din smiled beneath his helmet as well. “You are going to need to change out of that dress- go see if they have a pair of trousers you can borrow.”

Ino skipped back into the house. He watched her go, then turned his gaze upwards to the pink sky. Grogu would have loved her. The two of them together would have made an unstoppable pair. Din wondered what kind of Jedi magic the kid was being taught and how much his powers had developed since they had last seen each other. How long had it been now? Half a year or so...He hoped Grogu was happy.

“You too argue like Rowan and I.” Thea was framed in the doorway, holding a basket of damp clothing. 

The Mandalorian cleared his throat “It is my job to keep her safe.”

“And yet you hurt her.” 

Din narrowed his eyes at her “how do you mean?”

She shifted the basket from one hip to the other as she approached.

“She will rule Atlas- it is her fate. Just as it is the fate of the Mandalorians to travel and right the wrongs of the galaxy. Your paths have crossed briefly, but what will happen after you arrive in the capital?”

“She will marry the king,” Din said without hesitation. He was getting weary of this woman. 

Thea smiled, set the basket down, and started to clip the fabric to lines of twine. “People here will maintain their facade of ignorance when it comes to the dealings of our royals. However, we are not so stupid as the nobles choose to belive.” A warm wind tunneled through the rows of houses and made the clothing on the line billow outward. “There are very few people who view Balthar as our king. We stand with Princess Leucothea. Her reign will usher us into an age of peace and prosperity. Something we have not seen in many years, unfortunately. There is a storm approaching, and I bid you let it pass, do not stand in its way and allow it to falter because you are too brash with your feelings. The girl has endured nothing but misfortune all of her life. Every single person who was tasked with protecting her failed. If you truly care about her, you will not allow her to become attached. It will only serve to make her heartbreak that much more severe.” Thea picked up the now empty basket and turned to him again. “I am making a meal for you all before you leave. Would you prefer I left yours in the spare bedroom?”

“Yes” Din mumbled “thank you.”

“Of course” Thea bowed her head and made her way back inside. 

[agent13thepretender]

Accidentally deleted my fanfic preview lol

I accidentally deleted my fan fic preview so here it is again. I am almost done with the story, however and will probably post in on AO3 and FanFiction.net. Please give me some feedback, especially with characterization. Obviously everyone has their own perception of different character and this is mine. Enjoy!

Fandom: MCU (Irondad and Spiderson)

Title: Home Videos

Summary: Peter has a dream where he’s in a movie theatre watching Uncle Ben’s home video of the day he was born. As he watches, a familiar voice announces himself and Peter Parker finds Tony Stark smiling in the seat next to him.

                                                             o0o

 Peter Parker found himself sitting in a soft, red plush chair, facing a black screen partially covered in red velvet curtains. He could see a few rows of matching red seats scaling down in front of him, all empty. Turning, Peter saw the seats rising behind him were also empty. The small projector window above glowing faintly. He sat back in his seat, brows furrowed. He was in an older movie theatre, completely empty, with non-reclining seats and yellowed lights. Peter could see patches of discoloration on the red fabric-covered walls and the chipping back paint of the handrails. 

    The lights began to dim into a soft glow as the curtains slowly pulled back. With a quiet click, the black screen illuminated into a stunning white that made Peter’s eyes squint to adjust to the sudden brightness. He was relieved when the screen became gray static and a gentle buzz filled the auditorium. A loud, dull click sounded and the screen became a scene of blurry green trees. The image was shaky and glitched slightly. There was a digital time tag at the bottom right corner that read:  August 10,  2001.

    “Is this thing on?” A soft but gruff voice mumbled close to the camera. Peter felt his heart twinge in his chest at the instantly familiar voice. The camera moved sharply and the screen was filled with a middle-aged man with brown hair and brown eyes behind red-rimmed glasses. Ben Parker was gazing at the camera with eyebrows creased closely together. 

“The red lights on, it’s recording.” Another man called off-camera. 

“Oh!” Ben said before grinning and making a few funny faces at the camera that made Peter smile. 

“Ben, you’re gonna break the lens with that mug of yours.” The other man sounded closer and Peter recognized it as well. The camera moved to confirm that it was his father, Richard Parker. He was standing with his hands on his hips, squinting in the late summer sun. He was smiling brightly as the breeze swept through his curly brown hair.

Peter heard Ben scoff behind the camera. “Your mug ain’t much better.” Ben shot back. The camera rotated and Ben’s face was captured in an unflattering angle. “Let’s hope my niece takes after Mary.” He loud whispered into the camera. 

The camera quickly readjusted back to Richard who gave Ben an unimpressed look. Ben snorted as he zoomed in to Richard’s face. Peter found himself chuckling with him.

“Are you done? Or do you want to wait another nine months to meet my kid?” Richard asked with fake annoyance. The camera was still zoomed in to his face and caught the small smile at the end. 

“Yeah, yeah, lemme just shut this off.” Ben’s voice trailed off. 

The clip soon cut off to the footage of Richard walking in a hospital hallway. “Nervous, Ricky?” Ben asked calmly.

Richard turned to the camera and smiled shyly. “Maybe.” He confessed.

“Why?” Ben’s voice was hushed but sincere.

Richard stopped and stood in front of his brother, disregarding the camera. “‘Cause it’s a kid! They’re super fragile, get sick a lot and about a billion things can go wrong.” Richard whispered. “I don’t have a degree for this.”

Ben hummed thoughtfully. “I hear girls are even more difficult. Good luck, Doc.”  Ben chuckled at the glare Richard was throwing at him.

“What’s all this about a girl?” A low voice announced. Peter’s head whipped to the seat next to him. The young boy’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, his throat closing tightly at the sight of the person seated next to him.

 All that could escape Peter was a pained gasp of surprise.“Mr. Stark?”

Tony Stark turned to look at the boy with a broad grin and a bucket of popcorn in his arms. His dark eyes shining behind a pair of old school red and blue 3-D glasses. “Hey, kid!” Tony greeted Peter, just as he always did. 

Peter’s eyes were wide with disbelief but they quickly turned red and glossy. The crushing waves of grief made Peter double over his seat, gasping fast and shaky breaths. Tony sprung forward in alarm and placed a familiar heavy hand on the boy’s back.

“Hey, hey! Its ok, kid!” Tony exclaimed, tossing the popcorn away. He got out of his seat and crouched down next to Peter while expertly rubbing circles on his back. “Shoot, maybe surprising you like that was a bad idea.” He mumbled.

Peter’s body was shaking with the sudden and intense emotion. He took shuddering breaths to try to calm himself down. He concentrated on how real and warm the hand on his back felt.

“It’s ok, Peter,” Tony said softly, a tinge of sadness washed over his voice. 

Peter gathered himself with deep breaths and turned to his former mentor, the hand never leaving his back. He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Tony removed the 3-D glasses without turning away from the boy. His eyes were dark and warm just as Peter remembered them. 

He turned away to rub his face. “This is a dream, just another dream.” He mumbled to himself.

Tony quirked his head a bit. “Another dream?” 

Peter sighed. “Yeah, that’s all this is. I’m aware now so I’m probably going to wake up soon.” He said in distress. 

Tony shook his head. “This isn’t a dream, kid. At least not a normal one.” Peter looked at Tony skeptically and received a sympathetic expression in return. “I’m actually here.” 

“How!? How are you possibly here!” Peter cried. Tears finally fell down his face as he stared at the uninjured face of his dead mentor. “If this isn’t a dream, is this an illusion? A hologram? Beck’s dead so I don’t think that could be it.” 

“Pete,” Tony cut him off. “This is none of that stuff. To put it simply, I guess you could call this a Limbo of sorts.”

“Limbo?” Peter said, alarmed. “Am I dead?” 

Tony chuckled slightly as he shook his head, patting Peter on the shoulder. “No, you’re not, kid. Jeez.” 

Peter stared at Tony’s smiling face. There was some sadness in his eyes but no shadows or bags of exhaustion under them. His face was relaxed instead of the tension that was frequently lined on his brow. He looked younger, at peace. 

Sighing, Tony sat back in his seat. “We’re essentially in a pocket of reality where I, a ghost, can Jacob Marley one person,” Tony explained. “It’s like an I.O.U from the universe since I literally saved it.” 

Peter nodded his head, mulling it over in his brain. “You’re here ‘cause you used the Infinity Stones.” He concluded.

“Basically.” 

“You’re really here? With me? In my mind?” 

“Triple affirmative.”

“Why?” Peter asked softly, confused.

Tony shrugged casually, an amused smirk on his lips. “Because I wanted to see you.” 

“Are you going to see Pepper or Morgan?” 

Tony took a breath, his face was momentarily stricken at the mention of his wife and daughter. “No. I can only do this once.”

Peter’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “Shouldn’t you be doing this with Morgan? She’s your daughter, I’m sure she’d want to see you. To talk to you again.” Peter pleaded. “Or Pepper! She was the last person to talk to you. They miss you, they need you!”

“The one who needs me most right now is you, Peter,” Tony stated with conviction, his hand landing firmly on the young boy’s shoulder. “And you’re the one I wanted to see most, too.” 

The boy stared at him in confusion, his brown eyes still shiny from tears. “Me? But, but why I’m not…”

“Family?” Tony finished. Peter stared at the older man, his lips drawn tightly in a straight line as more tears spilled from his eyes. Tony stared back at the boy, sniffing slightly as his own emotions were bubbling forward. He knew this would be the last time he would ever talk to Peter like this. Every emotion and instinct he restrained when he was alive had been his greatest regrets. “Yes, you are, kid.” 

[mama-m1na]

Apocalypse: Chapter 19

~~~XIX~~~

It was around noon when Cloud and Rhamina began eating their lunch that consisted of whatever leftovers they had found in the fridge since neither of them were really in the mood for cooking.

Tifa was the first of the other females to wake up, walking down into the kitchen with squinted eyes and a massive headache that earned her a pitying smile from the younger ravenette from where she sat.

"How you feeling, Tifa?" the eighteen-year-old asked, securing her hair into a ponytail with a black butterfly clip as the brunette took a seat on the opposite side of the ex-SOLDIER with a groan.

"Like I just got hit by a truck," the twenty-year-old woman replied as she hid her face in her hands, the younger female standing up to close the curtains closest to the dining table to help with the headache.

"Well now you know to never play drinking games with us ever again," the ravenette chuckled as she heated up some food and brought her a glass of water, earning a small thanks in return.

"Yeah, but the both of you drank as much as we did or maybe a little more," Tifa started, eyeing the couple as they seemed perfectly fine and unaffected by the heavy amounts of alcohol they consumed the previous night, "I don't understand how neither of you are feeling miserable right now."

"It's all the mako," Cloud said, giving the explanation for himself with a shrug as he glanced over at his very hungover friend, "it increased my alcohol tolerance, same thing with all the other SOLDIER's."

"I honestly don't have a definite explanation for me," the younger female said, also with a shrug and a bright smile on her lips, "But I guess it would probably have to do with my powers."

"I see... How lucky," Tifa groaned as she just laid herself face down on the table, enjoying the cool temperature of the glossy wooden surface.

The ravenette bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to say something along the lines of 'That's rough, buddy', instead deciding to focus on what was left of her meal and ate it in silence.

Once everyone was finished with their meals, the eighteen-year-old took care of the dishes as the blond stood up from his seat and moved to fasten his buster sword to its usual spot on his back.

Setting a newly filled glass of water in front of the brunette, Rhamina gave her an encouraging look as she said, "We're going to be out for a bit so take care of yourself and the others... And remember to stay hydrated."

"Alright, will do when they wake up," the woman sighed as she tried to return the teen's usual smile and gave the pair a small wave, "I'll see you guys later. Stay safe."

"We will," the teen replied as the pair walked to the front door where she took a few moments to put on and properly lave up her black combat boots before they set out on their short journey.

For once, the sun was out and shining down on the usually depressing looking island, something that the teenager wasn't used to, but she didn't complain as it wasn't too hot outside yet.

"You're looking for Knov again, right?" the male asked as he followed the teen down the dirt trail into the forest she was so familiar with, "How are you planning on trying to find him exactly?"

"Oh we won't be the ones finding him," she chuckled with a closed eye smile, that would concern him if he didn't really know her, "If anything, he'll be the one to find us if he so chooses. This is his forest after all."

"Great," the male huffed as he shook his head with his arms crossed over his chest, causing the female to look back at him with a raised brow.

"What did he actually say to you?" she questioned with her head tilted to the side, slowing down to fall in step with the blond, "I know he can be very blunt about new things coming into his territory."

Before the male could make his reply, they came upon the clearing with the pond in which he and Kerstin had found the eighteen-year-old last time they came out to the forest; and as if waiting for their arrival, the large forest spirit just sat by the edge of the water, looking in their direction as they appeared.

"Knov!" the teenager called as she rushed forward to greet the large canine, her human companion hanging back a couple of meters as he just watched their interactions from where he stood.

The wolf bowed its head towards the girl as the ravenette reached up to pet him and bury her hands in the creature's soft, fluffy, fur, not that it minded whatsoever at this point in its existence.

The twenty-one-year-old huffed at the canine's reaction, knowing that if the female weren't there to supervise them, then he would immediately turn fangs and claws against the human male.

"I see that you've finally awakened completely this time around," the deep, disembodied voice spoke as the female pulled back in surprise with a look of slight confusion on her soft features.

"This... time?" she echoed, tilting her head to the side, "Are you meaning to say that we've met each other before? As in, met in a previous life? Because I don't remember that at whatsoever."

"We have... However, my name at the time was 'Berkrut' not 'Knov'," the wolf replied, a look of recognition spreading slowly across the eighteen-year-old's face, "And I never took up a form like this in that life."

"I guess that makes sense," the female chuckled, earning a raised brow from the blond as she turned around to look out over the pond and fully take in the serene atmosphere that it offered.

As if sensing the male's confusion, she said, "In one of my past lives, I was born into a pack of Lycans, those who had the power to shift into wolves, and the one that was known as Berkrut was the alpha of our pack."

"A strong leader and a fierce warrior," she continued, turning around to face the blond with a proud smile on her face, "He was someone that everyone in the pack looked up to."

"Do not forget that you were a fierce warrior as well," the wold spoke with a huff as he leaned down to nudge the girl on the shoulder, "One of the best in the pack, besides me of course."

"Maybe, but only up until that one Harvest Moon," the female shrugged, earning a deep growl from the canine as she calmly walked over to stand next to Cloud with a neutral expression on his face.

"I still regret not being able to shred those humans on the spot," he snarled, once again sparking a new confusion in the human male that had stayed quiet throughout this entire encounter.

"What happened?" he asked, looking over at the ravenette who stood to his right as she worked to redo the ponytail, making sure that the clip was in tightly and that her hair didn't fly into her face again.

"There was a human village close to our village that didn't exactly like being neighbors with a pack of wild and monstrous Lycans," she explained, "But we had a treaty that basically explained that no harm would come to them if they left us alone and left us with enough game to hunt while staying out of our territory."

"Of course, some humans decided to ignore that treaty and ventured into our hunting grounds anyways," Rhamina continued, "and of course seeing as they violated the treaty, they were immediately killed."

"The humans took it as an unwarranted attack even though they were given many warnings," Knov huffed, golden irises glowing slightly, "So on the night of the nearest Harvest Moon, they attacked out own village with the intent of at least killing all of our pus, if not the entire pack."

Cloud's eyes narrowed at the arrogance of the villagers described, they reminded him heavily of the arrogant people who worked in the higher ranking departments of the Shinra company.

"We, of course, fought back and there were no deaths amongst the pack, but the humans had those among them who could wield magic tools, so many of us were gravely injured," the ravenette explained, "including myself."

The blond could feel the rage building within him as he just looked at the flat expression of the female telling the story, knowing those memories were not good ones.

"They took my eyes," she continued bluntly, as she turned her head to glare at the ground below her, "Physically tore them out of my skull and left me ties up on the ground in hopes that I would just bleed out and die... That nature would finish me off as they ran from the rest of my pack that were coming for me."

"That's... disgusting," the male scoffed in response as a scowl formed on his usually stoic face.

"It was, but we were able to bring them to justice quite quickly," Knov spoke, eyes narrowing at the memories of how many in his pack were injured that night, "We held no mercy for them after that."

"It was quite satisfying to hear that the entire village of humans was wiped out at the time, but it was a shame that I couldn't participate," the eighteen-year-old sighed as she shook her head in disappointment before pivoting towards the wolf, "But that's behind us now and I came to ask you something, Knov."

Facing the large canine with a serious expression, she asked, "How long have you known that I was Death?"

"Since the moment you first stepped into my territory as a child all those years ago," he replied without missing a single beat, "How could I not know your true identity, when your soul remains the exact same as the one I was guided to upon my own passing as a physical mortal being."

"True," Rhamina chuckled with a shrug, "Almost every being present in every world in existence, has come to me at least once, almost every being has lived a life in the past before they are reborn into the beings they are in the present."

"Kind of like you, Cloud," she spoke as she faced him as she faced the man, "You've seen me once before you came to this world, but unlike the others, that was the only time you've come to me."

"Huh?" the male hummed as the ravenette leaned forward to look straight into his mako-contaminated irises as he tried to keep up with the concepts that she was explaining to him.

Brown irises speckled with metallic, golden, flecks as they bore straight into the male's very being.

"Your soul is new, hun," she continued in a soft tone as her hand reached up to cup his cheek, providing him with a familiar warmth that he had become comfortable very with, "This is your very first life you're living right now."

With that information in the air, a bitter taste refused to leave her mouth as she thought about the situation that the male was thrown into and what she had seen when she first looked into his memories.

She then clicked her tongue in annoyance as she turned away, thinking, 'It's his very first life and he had the lack of being drawn into this mess of a world... What the hell are you thinking fate?!'

While Cloud sensed the sudden irritation that had grasped the female, he didn't know what he could say as he still tried to comprehend the information he was given a few moments prior.

"Child," Knov said, catching her attention once more, "I believe you brought the man with you for a reason, did you not?"

She turned to the blond with a small, worried, frown before saying, "I did, but I'm not sure you would want to see anymore. I'm sure this has been quite a lot for you already."

At the male's silence, the female sighed and said, "I'm sorry, this whole thing must be like a whole bombshell being dropped on you."

"I didn't mean to-" "No, it's fine," the twenty-one-year-old spoke, cutting off the female's nervous rambling as she looked at him with widened eyes, "I want to know more about this."

Soon enough, the girl's look of shock melted into a bright smile as she reached up to the new pendant that hung over her heart, where the bell used to be.

"Alright then!" she chirped before black ice began encasing her figure again, but once she was fully covered it broke away to reveal her true form, dressed in the form-fitting clothes that Mandallyth wore, accented by her vulpine appendages flicking and moving around in her new surroundings.

"This is my 'true' or 'God' form," she explained as she flicked some of her hair back over her shoulder, the nine tails moving calmly behind her, "It's like my execution form got a major upgrade, but in all honesty, it is my original form."

"The only reason I can stay in a human form for so long is because of my talisman," Rhamina continued, holding her pendant up as Cloud stepped closer, "It temporarily houses a majority of my powers until I'm back in this form."

"And why is that?" he asked, having to look up to maintain eye contact since her boots had five-inch heels on them.

"Because, well... human bodies are a bit... fragile," she started, eyed darting around at the trees and various greenery as she tried to find the right words to explain what she wanted, "they just aren't meant to handle the power of a god... It's like filling a balloon with water, fill it too much and it would eventually pop."

"Then why don't you just stay in this form?" the blond questioned with a shrug as he noticed the female's tails softly wagging behind her at the attention she was getting.

"While it would be much easier if I did, it wouldn't be such a good idea in this or any human-inhabited world for that matter," the ravenette replied as she shook her head, "Many have a grudge against Death and I would rather not deal with them at this point in time."

The male let out an amused huff as a small smile appeared on his face, asking, "That's pretty lazy for a god, isn't it?"

"Maybe to human standards, but I'm actually putting in the effort to live unlike the other gods that just watch from a different dimension," she chuckled with an equally amused grin on her face.

"Speaking of which," she mused before snapping her fingers, a purple magic circle appearing in the air beside her.

From the circle a deep bark echoed out before a large, much larger than Knov, the creature came forward to stand next to the ravenette.

"This is my mount, Kanon!" the female chirped as she pat the beast's shoulder, seeming completely unfazed at its intimidating presence.

The creature stood well above the height of the three present and appeared to be some kind of fluffy canine with black, grey, and white fur to accompany its icy blue eyes.

On its back was a piece of cream-colored fur to keep it comfortable with the saddle and while it was fully harnessed, that didn't stop her from glaring down at the human male that stood across from them.

Noticing the beast's behavior, the ravenette held her arm out in front of its chest as she said, "Kanon, this is Knov and Cloud... They're my friends of mine."

Kanon let out a huff before lifting its nose to sniff the air and immediately all of its fur stood up as its eyes narrowed, baring its teeth at the blond.

"Cloud, back up!" the female ordered as she held onto the creature's reigns and as her tails moved to block the beast from moving forward.

"What's happening?" he asked, doing as requested as he prepared to draw his buster sword.

"I'm pretty sure she can smell me on you and vice versa," the female explained calmly as her mount continued to struggle against her hold with loud growls, "She obviously doesn't like that."

'Well she'll have to get over it,' the male thought with a scoff as he watched Rhamina fully stand in between the two with her tails fanned out so that they couldn't see each other at all.

"Kanon, honey, I want you to be able to stay out of the pocket dimension, but you have to behave," he heard her say from behind the wall, You can't just eat anyone you don't like."

This resulted in a loud bark from the canine before a sigh left the female's mouth.

"Do not use my own saying against me! I don't actually eat people!"

A small smirk appeared on the male's face as she continued talking to the beast, noticing that she sounded like a mother scolding her child for misbehaving.

When she lowered her tails she was still holding onto Kanon's reigns and the beast was still glaring at him, but she was sitting down.

"So what is she?" the male asked, earning a warning growl from the canine as he took a step forward, Rhamina gripping tighter onto the reigns in her hands.

"She is one of Death's Reapers," Knov answered, nodding in respect towards the larger canine, "Death spirits tasked with guiding and protecting souls as they make their journey to meet Death."

"They are very loyal and protective, "he continued as the other spirit sat a little bit straighter, "Very good for what they are tasked."

"Yep, Kanon is a good girl most of the time," the ravenette cooed as she scratched the side of her mount's neck, "but you can't be eating my friends all the time."

Kanon only responded by dropping all of her weight onto the female next to her, earning a yelp as she was suddenly pinned to the ground by the weight of one of her Reapers.

Her pointed ears flicked in annoyance before she looked to the blond with a pout on her face as he met her gaze with an amused grin.

"I don't know why you're laughing, Cloud... She still wants to eat you," she huffed as Kanon rested her head on the female's stomach, "She's just trying to distract me so she can get the chance."

"I'd like to see her try," the blond replied as he locked eyes with the canine.

"Cloud, no. Please don't challenge her," Rhamina warned as her tails moved to remove the large canine from her form, "I'm serious, she's my mount for a reason."

"I don't doubt that," he shrugged as the ravenette stood up, shaking her head even though she was quite amused.

"We should probably start heading back to the house," she sighed after looking up to see how much the sun had moved since they came outside.

"Alright, Kanon," the female spoke as she turned to the canine, "you're going to have to do the thing because you're not going to fit through the door like that."

The Reaper rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly stood up and let black smoke surround her figure.

When the smoke cleared, a large Russian Bear Dog stood where the mount would be with blue eyes looking up at her master.

"Good girl," the ravenette praised before a soft purple light engulfed her form once more before she stood once again in her human form.

"Ready to go?" she asked as she turned to the twenty-one-year-old with a bright smile on her face.

The male nodded and the teen turned to say goodbye tot he forest spirit before they began walking down the path with her walking in between Kanon and Cloud.

It was mostly quiet on the walk back, save for the random comments the female would make as they walked, but none of them really minded.

When they finally got back to the house, it was around three in the afternoon and everyone else was awake.

"Mina, what the fuck is that?" Tijarah asked as she was walking over to the kitchen, pausing only when she saw the canine that stood at the height of the owner's waist.

"This is Kanon!" the ravenette introduced, placing a hand on the dog's head, "She's a death spirit!"

"Mina, that thins is a full ass bear," Sam commented from her spot on the smaller couch, earning a snarl from the canine.

"Keep talking shit and you're going to lose a hand," the older teen warned as she unlaced and took off her boots, gaining a small bark of agreement from Kanon as she placed them to the side where no one would trip on them... hopefully...

"So I get that she's a death spirit, but why is she here right now?" the younger Filipino questioned as Cloud and her Sibling walked over to sit at the second couch.

"She's my mount like I said earlier," the older female said with a shrug as she tucked her legs underneath herself and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Excuse me?" the dark-skinned teenager asked, momentarily choking on the chips she had just started to eat, "she's your fucking what?"

"You mean you ride that thing into battle?!" Kerstin exclaimed, pointing at the dog who was laying on the floor by the ravenette.

"Yeah, this isn't her only form, dipshits," the eighteen-year-old stated as she looked up from her phone to see the shocked looked of her siblings, "I just needed her to fit through the door and in the house."

"Wait, do we have mounts too?" the green-eyed female asked, shock turned to excitement when the ravenette nodded her head.

"Of course, we aren't called the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse for nothing," she shrugged in response, "Although, Tijarah was the only one with an actual thing that resembled a horse."

"What do we have?" Kerstin asked with her voice laced with pure enthusiasm, as Kanon merely rolled her eyes at the familiar souls.

"Kerstin, you had this giant lizard thing, Sam had a lion with fucking bird wings, and Tijarah had this huge as, jet black, carnivorous horse," Rhamina replied, causing Tifa's eyes to widen with slight worry.

"You can only summon them when you get your shit together though," she continued, looking over at the older female with a sympathetic smile, "so go and do that first before you bring about chaos with your mounts."

"And how exactly do we do that?" the Mexican asked as she typed something into her phone.

"You'll get clues if you pay attention," the ravenette replied, "but for sure the rest of you will have to wake up soon... Once one of us wakes up, the others are sure to follow shortly afterward."

The rest of the day passed like that until everyone got ready for bed and went up to their respective rooms.

Cloud wasn't exactly happy about it, but Kanon had wormed her way into his room before he could close the door, so now she just sat on the floor by Rhamina's side of the bed with what looked to be a smirk on her face.

"At least she isn't trying to take your spot on the bed," the female chuckled as the male laid down next to her with a huff.

The blond said nothing as he wrapped his arms around the girl's waist to pull her closer.

"Honestly though, I'm really sorry about her attitude," she whispered as she curled up against him, "she doesn't really like anyone."

"I don't care," the male huffed, "as long as she's able to protect you and doesn't get in my way, then it doesn't matter."

A smile crept its way up onto the female's face as her eyes closed, whispering, "I love you, Cloud."

"I..." the male started, looking at the girl in his hold with a soft look in his eyes, "I love you too."

The ravenette tensed, feeling her face heat up again as her heart started pounding against her chest, but she soon relaxed again as a giddy feeling filled her being.

The next morning, the blond felt a little warmer than usual, but it wasn't unpleasant until he felt something swipe across his back.

His eyes snapped open in alarm as he jolted slightly, causing the eighteen-year-old to wake up as well.

"What's wrong?" she groaned, still slightly sleepy, as blue eyes caught onto what he had felt.

Cloud let out a sigh as one of the female's black tails retracted to lay across the female's lap, one of her ears twitching as she yawned.

"Your tails," he said, pointing to the various appendages attached to her upon seeing her confused glance.

Following the male's finger, the teen's eyes widened with a small gasp before she reached up to the top of her head to her vulpine ears.

"Goddammit," the hissed, sitting up and ignoring the amused look Kanon gave her from the floor as she willed her inhuman parts to vanish.

"I'm sorry about that," the female sighed as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, one strap of her camisole slipping off of her shoulder, "That just happens apparently."

"It's fine, they just surprised me was all," the blond shrugged, looking over at the ravenette who had raised a brow at him.

"So you're fine with the fluff blanket?" she questioned with an innocently curious gaze, tilting her head to the side.

"I guess, but are you really calling it that?" the male shot back as he stretched before removing the blanket from himself and standing up.

"As long as my sisters don't catch wind of it then ti's fine," the teen replied, reaching over for her phone, "I will not tolerate being called fucking cute."

In response, the large black and white dos, let out a huff as she rolled her eyes, earning a glare from Rhamina.

"Oh shut up, Kanon, you're a literal fluff ball!"

~~~Fin. Chapter 19~~~

Masterlist

[shorthaircutsmodels]

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It's not easy, but if you think it's really too hard, we'll bet that a few of your (understandably) blocked memories will come back to you. Selena Gomez new haircut Picture: you're 12 and you're rocking new braces (with neon-coloured tyres, of course) and after washing up you go down to the hairdresser's seat and ask for a classic Bang-drumroll, please round ends. You know, for volume. We knew you'd remember. It was Bouncy. Fluffy it was. And it left an impressive and almost gravity-defying gap between your face and your hair. Most notably, round bang ''was favoured by Rachel's older, more polished. Selena Gomez hair stylist Sister-the supermodels of the' 90s, including Linda Evangelista and Christy Turlington. Classy. Fast forward a few decades today and the round Bang is officially back. Selena Gomez has been a style icon since her breakout role in Wizards of Waverly Place in 2021. How to get Selena Gomez hair But while her keen sense of style hasn't changed, her hair certainly has. The 25-year-old has tried everything: long and straight, short and curly, with blunt bangs, a sleek bob, pink extensions and even full blonde. Selena Gomez hairstyle 2020 Here's a look at the full spectrum of styles the" rare " singer has rocked over the years. Half fluffy hair is an excellent option for everyday use. He has appeared in many interesting films and has fans all over the world. Selena Gomez hair color Apart from much work in recreation areas, he also gets involved in a lot of charitable activities. She has the courage to try out a variety of hair and she creates them incredibly. Here you will introduce some of her super. Selena Gomez hair care Stunning hair, from which you can choose out to suit yourself. Selena Gomez Hairstyles 2020: braided long hair Selena Gomez combs her long straight golden blonde hair into a gorgeous ponytail full of fun and smoothness. Selena Gomez facial hair Gorgeous and natural smoky cat eyes add a sexy touch to her bright and charming face. In addition, sweet cotton candy pink lipstick also massively matches her make-up. We love Selena Gomez for a number of reasons: chameleon. Selena Gomez hair blonde Her beauty trends (her slate blue contacts gave us a strong urge to try), established hook's ability to deliver the perfect parting song, and, of course, Pinterest-worthy, shiny head of hair. 26 yesterday. in honor of her birthday, we collected. Selena Gomez hair clips 21 of her favorite hair moments of all time from the pop star. From low chignons to Victoria's Secret-worthy waves, keep scrolling to see the most stunning Selena Gomez hair moments of all time. Selena Marie Gomez is an American singer and actress. Selena Gomez hair style Gomez began her career on the children's television series Barney & Friends. He rose to fame by playing the lead role of Alex Russo in the Disney Channel series Wizards of Waverly Place. Selena Gomez hair long Selena Gomez is a great hair inspiration because she constantly changes her hairstyles and they all look gorgeous. From light blonde to dark brunette hair colors, hairstyles are often simple but never boring. Selena Gomez is officially famous for her chart-topping music. Selena Gomez long hair But is increasingly becoming a fixture in the world of #hairgoals, as well. She went super long on the lob, and flirted with everything in between. But now, Selena has unveiled bold new chops, and I don't think we've seen her hair like that before. Selena Gomez hair colors Here's a reminder of where her hair has been back a few weeks: related: it's official: she's from a Selena Gomez beauty brand Sweet, dazzling, young and yet. Selena Gomez hair curly Whether it's about her relationship with Justin Bieber or her new dress for a magazine cover shoot, she's always buzzing. She is a very sweet, beautiful and elaborately dressed celebrity. His style is often simple but never boring or repetitive, and so has his hair. Selena Gomez hair bangs We have seen Selena experiment with her hair over the years and we also love seeing her trying new ones. How about we take a look at Selena Gomez hairstyles. Selena Gomez curly hair Gone are the short days and cold weather. Which means it's time to give your hair an update, hun. I have a hair appointment scheduled for next week, but Selena Gomez already looks like a new do punch Beat me. I'm not mad. Selena Gomez haircut bob During Selena's last appearance on the Kelly Clarkson show, she sported a haircut that resembled the most iconic hairstyle of all time: Rachel. G February February Instagram without a caption Gomez officially debuted her. Selena Gomez hair up 70s shag on Feb. 10. However, is it necessary when untitled hair looks very nice. It's quite rare to see Selena Gomez with long hair these days. So it's always a surprise when we do. Over the years, the 27-year-old actor and singer. Songwriter has more or less done long bob's signature style-but occasionally. He breaks extensions for special occasions. Selena Gomez black hair Case in point: Gomez recently flaunted a stunning waist-length look at a celebratory dinner for her friend, actor Charm La'donna. Over the summer, Gomez kept a long length past her shoulders a bit and gave us Rachel Green with feelings from friends. Selena Gomez hair bun But now, the actress and singer's hair barely grazes her chin, the shortest we've ever seen. 'Gram shares her first glimpse of her new bob,' Gomez styled with the middle part and fluffy, wavy texture, which is shaping up to be one of the biggest hair trends for the upcoming Fall Season. The singer's mermaid hair moment. Selena Gomez red hair I can't get enough" was captured on Instagram Stories by another friend, Raquelle Stevens, who took a shot with Gomez making a kissed face and showing off her new long strands in the soirée. But don't mourn her long locks just yet-the new hair is just a wig. Selena Gomez hair loss The reason Pam Anderson turned her hair into a fairy? He told Ellen DeGeneres that he stole her look. try this technique to reshape your nose using makeup-you don't need surgery.

[fresh-princess-is-here]

Red: Lust and Wrath

Words: 10,300 (ballpark) 

Rating: M+ (nsfw at the end)

Ship: Natsu + Lucy

LIttle plot: Natsu has been Wrath for years, he controls that angry red fire inside of him, keeping it locked up for not only his safety but everyone that surrounds him. That’s before a newly awoken Lust comes crashing through his window. 

"Lord Dragneel!" Wendy burst into the doors, stunning Natsu who was behind his desk, looking at the scrolls that a servant had delivered a few hours ago. He looked up, his brow crinkling at her gasping breaths.

"What's wrong?"

"Attacker. West. They've taken out the entire wing." She informed him, her bright eyes wide in shock, her shoulders hunched as he stood, brow furrowing at her words.

"Attacker? As in singular?"

She nodded, "We can only spot one. They are approaching the main hall at an alarming velocity."

A loud crash made Natsu's head snap towards the windows that were covered by thick, heavy curtains. He walked over slowly, calmly, and pulled them open, raising one eyebrow at the smoke billowing through the courtyard, rubble falling from the surrounding structures surrounding the main part of his mansion.

His head tilted, observing the wreckage before a disruption in the air made him turn around swiftly, grabbing Wendy's elbow and yanking her to the side. In the next few seconds, a large object crashed through the window, taking the walls along with it. Wendy let out a frightened yelp, huddling closer to Natsu who watched the large mass roll blankly - it happened to be one of the park benches that he had placed outside - a few times before thudding against the wall with a deafening crack.

Power swirled through the air, a threatening taste of his curious stranger and Natsu immediately knew that whoever had visited him, didn't come here for a friendly chat.

Of course, from the wreckage they had already created, Natsu had deduced that already.

"Wendy. Leave the room. Go attend to the injured and evacuate to the tunnels."

She didn't argue, her blind, unyielding faith making her one of his smartest followers. She simply left and Natsu pushed his hands into his pockets, watching as a figure crawled through the hole.

Her hair was long, a shining pale blonde mass of waves, and she wore all black, which seemed to illuminate her pale, glossy skin.

"Welcome to my manor. I assume, by the path you created, you found what you were looking for."

She turned to him slowly, the sunlight bouncing off her voluptuous curves. Her deep brown eyes gleamed with anger and a sweet, but threatening smile spread across her pink, supple lips.

"I must admit, the two, thick security walls gave me a little trouble but I managed."

He smelt the faint aroma of coppery blood and glanced down to her knuckles, silently impressed that she had managed to break through the walls with only her hands. She didn't look like much from the first glance, but the power she was letting off was definitely not normal, and he noticed her strong, womanly thighs, and the aggressive posture of that of a trained warrior.

"Would you mind stating your name? Just so I know who I can thank for the damages."

"Lucy." Her smile stayed, but her eyes flashed with deep rage, as she held out her hand. He focused on the marking there, tilting his head at the curved black line, with a smaller curved sharp line laying beside it.

"Lust has transformed into another, I see. I hadn't realised the previous had died."

"You've managed to seclude yourself off fairly well from the outside world, so I'm not surprised, Wrath." She lifted the hand to her mouth and ran her tongue over her wounds, and he watched, amused and curious when the skin healed over, leaving no trace of the wounds she had inflicted.

"How long have you held the sin?"

"Seventy years now."

"I have been Wrath for much longer than that." He stated but he was sure she already knew that. She cocked her chin at him, her chocolate, warm eyes sweeping over him in a dismissive way.

"I'm sure you know that I don't care if you are potentiality stronger than me. Considering the way I barged in here."

"I don't know anything about you, Lucy. I am curious, of course, but that can be rectified with a simple question. What do you want from me?" He asked, his heartbeat smooth and even, creating a sense of complete calmness through his body. Natsu had many years to practice the art of being ambivalent, mainly because, when he got angry, he truly brought down a wrath that put his name to shame.

"Your heart in my hand would be delightful." She admitted, before giggling softly, running her thumb against her bottom lip with a sadistic glint in her eyes, "Of course, I could settle with just your screams of pain."

Natsu amused himself with the thought that her giggle was the most delightful, yet sexiest things he had ever heard. The previous Lust had been beautiful, but much more shy, subservient in nature mostly.

'Lucy' seemed to be a different breed of that age old sin entirely.

"Lust normally deals with screams of pleasure."

"I'm a multi-faceted being." She shrugged, before looking around his office, her eyes wandering over the scrolls on the floor, the ones that had been thrown off his desk.

"Mind I ask why you want my heart? You must have become Lust when you were around twenty by your youthful look, and I've been here for the last forty years. That leaves your reasons for such an attack, odd at best."

"I have my reasons for doing this. I apologise for the fact I don't care to explain myself to you." She said it politely, an almost blank tone but Natsu knew anger and Lucy had one of the brightest aurae of anger sparking around her body like wild electricity.

She slowly pulled off her jacket, turning to watch the sun slowly begin to set for a few moments before asking, "I assume I have given your people enough time to escape?"

Natsu's lips twitched into a slow grin despite the odd circumstance of a sin wanting to kill him, and replied softly, watching her body closely, "They should be far into the tunnels by now. Thank-you for that consideration."

"I have no interest in killing anyone besides you. Anybody else would be pointless deaths."

"Understandable. You came here with a goal in mind. I admire that." He couldn't help but state because honesty was one of the things Natsu did find particularly appealing in all creatures, great and small.

She didn't seem to be affected by the compliment and placed her jacket down on the upended bookcase neatly.

"So, shall we begin?"

"Whenever you are ready." He replied calmly, but he moved his feet an inch to get into a more defensive stance since he had fought sins before and knew they were not to be handled lightly. Besides the fact Lucy was strong, she could also have multiple tricks that were unknown to him. The previous Lust had been fairly secretive of her powers and spent most of her time holed up in her own home.

Just as he was removing his hands from their place in his pockets, she moved. Her speed was incredible. One second she was metres away, the next, she was grabbing him by his shirt and tossing him straight into the nearest wall. He took most of the hit to his side, recovering quickly and the fight was on.

The next time she came at him, he was ready, throwing his body to the side to dodge, and whipping his fist out to catch her in the jaw. She moved at the last second, the blow only scraping her neck, but the power he had put behind it made the wall crack at the sudden force despite him not even touching it.

She ducked, sweeping his feet out from underneath him before stomping her foot down in a fluent movement. He opened his legs, barely evading that strike that left cracks in the concrete floor below him. She aimed a kick to his knee, and he spun off his hands, pushing his body in a handstand before snapping his foot clean across her pale jaw.

A wave of triumph danced through him when the blow hit, and made her sail across the room, smacking into the jagged half-crumbled wall. She was jumping back to her feet when he ran at her, parrying blow after blow.

She barely made a sound, deflecting some of his hits but missing most of them, obviously used to fighting with her legs and not defending with her arms. He aimed a right hook at her jaw again, but she caught his fist, and squeezed. Bones broke at the impact, leaving pain to rush through his system.

Then with a clean blow, she brought her boot up and kicked at his chest once, still gripping his broken hand. A grunt left his mouth and anger began to simmer up. He ripped his hand out of her grasp, focusing a small amount of power to heal his injuries but broken bones took a little longer than simple flesh wounds and torn muscles.

Natsu leant back, dodging the next kick she lashed out with, before catching her ankle at the last second with his working hand, shaking out the pain of his right while pivoting his body. She weighed nothing to him, but the thud she made when she hit the ground was enough to make a noise of pain leave her mouth.

Then a filthy curse led to a cheap, effective shot at the apex of his thighs.

Now he had to heal a broken pelvis as well.

The anger got warmer inside of him and she reacted to his power with her own flash of magic that soared towards him, slamming into him the same time her fist met with his jaw. He reached out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and brought his knee up, cracking it against her face once, twice.

Another grunt and she was twisting in his grasp, pain and rage dancing on her bruised features. The ferocity in her glare stunned Natsu for a moment before she reached out in a liquid quick movement, fluent in the way her body moved and stuck her hand right through his thigh.

He swore.

Muscles tore apart, the bone broke entirely and blood poured from the wound. He was losing balance, but before he hit the floor with his injured leg, he twisted her hair in his grip even more and swung on his other leg, bringing her head up against the ragged edges of the hole she had left earlier.

The crack her skull made with contact let him know he had probably fracture some part of her skull, and he staggered to the floor on one knee, sending rivets of power all over his body to heal the worse of his injuries.

When he saw her lift her head, messy strands falling around her sneering face, he knew, she wasn't giving up without a fight.

She snapped her palm out, and the power hit him like a live wire, sending him jolting back and sliding across the floor, her hair slipping out of his grasp.

He sat on his knees, glaring at her as she pressed her hand to her head, wincing in pain.

Then she glanced over at him, and a moment of quiet understanding rushed through them.

They had both been testing each other.

"Angry, yet? You realise that I'm going to rip your heart out?" She snarled, letting out a pulse of magic and Natsu stopped healing, leaving the ache and throb on his body because he somehow understood. She was going to be tricky to deal with, and he was going to have to use every bit of his strength.

Besides, once a sin's full power came out, it focused on the offensives. A distraction like healing yourself, even while moving, could lead to a dirt-filled grave six feet under. The thought enraged Natsu.

"Angry, no." He growled back, his power filling his blood, his bones, his soul, leaving him awash with nothing but pure, wrath.

"I'm pissed."

They both sprang to their feet at the same time and collided. Power sparked, shaking the room around them as Natsu slapped Lucy clean across the face, breaking bones and sending her slamming to the floor.

She reached out, grabbing his ankle and using that strength of hers, yanked and slammed him onto the other side of her body. Then using both feet, she kicked at his chin, the force would have made a normal human's neck break apart, perhaps even decapitate.

But sins were a lot stronger than humans.

Natsu didn't let his injuries distract him, flipping onto his feet, before kicking her ribs. She rolled along the floor, a scream of pain leaving her mouth, as he did it again, and again.

They fought viciously, but Lucy never weakened. She grunted, yelled, and screamed, but she would always manage to throw him around, even one at one point, shoving her thumb so deep into his eye, it almost popped. Luckily, Natsu managed to throw her off, before she could take out one of his eyes.

Eyes were the hardest to heal properly and needed time that was not reserved in battle.

Lust obviously knew her stuff.

He was running at her when she grabbed the bench from earlier and with a flick of her wrist, threw it at him. The impact broke his collar bone, a roar of pain leaving his mouth but he pushed past it. She appeared in front of him in a blur but he was ready, hand latching out to grasp her throat and throw her body against a wall.

Her head made an impressive crack in the structured concrete but she kept moving, her body shimmering as more of her power poured out of her, like a flash of lightning. But Natsu was there.

He grasped her throat again, pinning her to the wall, and took a hold of her thigh, breaking the bone under his grip. She screamed, before slamming her head against his, breaking his nose, cheekbone and he felt the searing, agony rippled through him at the fracture to his skull.

His hand clenched around her throat, prepared to squeeze the life out of her, or at least make her faint from oxygen deprivation so he could light her on fire. Then he felt it.

A sharp tip of a blade against his sternum, held there by her blood soaked hands, steadily despite the pressure of not breathing making her throat constrict underneath his hands.

"Tell me why. Why did you come here?" He demanded, pressing against the blade stupidly, but the wrath inside him had taken him over completely.

With little oxygen left, she managed to rasp, "You killed my mother, and my unborn brother, you monster. Your heart for theirs."

Her words sent a shot of cold down his spine, allowing him a moment to think without the pressure of anger on his skull. It also made every part of his body scream in excruciating pain at his many wounds, the adrenaline fighting against the urge to pass out from the sheer torture.

"When? When did I do this?"

She didn't answer, still holding the knife against his body, pressing the blade deeper and he eased up slightly, allowing air to rush into her lungs.

Her body shook but her hands were so steady, ready to cut him apart if she had to.

"Answer me!" He growled angrily, and she glared, her eyes bloodshot, a stream of blood running down from her skull.

"Sixty years ago. You slaughtered an entire village, in one of your tantrums. I saw what you did to that town, to my mother."

Natsu immediately remembered the village. It was one of the last things he had done before his wrath of losing Igneel had ended. After he had killed and demolished that entire village in his wake, he had escaped to here and lived for nothing but calmness.

"How old were you?"

"17." She bit out angrily, glaring at him with such hatred that it made his blood boil but he quickly did the math and it made sense. It must have been just before she became Lust, which was a pretty incredible 'fuck-you' from the universe to him.

"I…" He took a deep breath in, his apology getting stuck in his throat, so he went a different route entirely, "You won't beat me if the only thing that's fuelling you is anger. I am Wrath. It's a given that if you come up against me with your anger, it won't be enough."

"I don't think you'll be saying that when I shove this dagger through your heart."

"I'll heal it."

"Not likely. This is a pure dagger. Blessed by the Pope himself."

Despite all his rage at her, he couldn't help but be impressed and loosened his grip on her throat just a little more.

"You've done your research. But I'll still break your neck before you can break the first layer of skin." He threatened, despite his slowly relaxing grip on her body.

She took a deep breath in, "I'm willing to take that chance."

And when he stared into her vivid eyes, he knew, she was not lying.

"If you are going to kill me, the only way it will happen is if you use your power. Trying to beat me with anger is foolish."

Her big eyes narrowed angrily and Natsu knew he hit a nerve. No doubt, this Lucy, had been called 'foolish' before, considering her reaction to it.

"If you are offering the idea of me using my lust to take you down, I'm going to politely ignore it. I have no desire to fuck you, even if it's for the purpose of killing you."

"Can you do that? Fuck a person to death?" He growled, eyes narrowing and she slowly raised an eyebrow but didn't say anymore. Natsu's wrath was bubbling around inside of him, urging him to snap her neck, to hurt her and the longer he stood there, the wilder those thoughts got.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to find one speck of sanity amongst all the anger, his hand clenching down on Lucy's throat to cease her slight movements.

The tip of the dagger pushed against his skin, threatening to pierce him and he tightened, even more, eyes snapping open with a vicious, heated look.

She glared back at him, her face slowly growing red with the lack of oxygen. Natsu brought his other hand away from her thigh, watching the pain flare between her eyes when he knocked it, probably agitating the broken bone and ligaments inside. Then, he grasped one of her wrists and began to pull it slowly away from his body, keeping his eyes on hers.

Her strength fought him, and he was having a tougher time than he would like to admit but he managed to get the knife away from his heart. As it was slowly moving across his ribs, he pushed against his hand around her neck, keeping her head pinned to the wall as her eyes began to slowly roll back.

Her strength lessened, and he held strong, watching as consciousness slowly escaped her. But at the last second, her hand holding the knife, stabbed forward, slicing into his ribs.

The pain of a holy object sizzled into his skin, making him roar in pain and drop to his knees. She fell also, gasping in a breath, touching her neck with one hand while holding the bloodied knife deep inside him with the other.

Pain made his eyesight blurry, his breathing fast and fire burnt down his lungs, heading straight for the wound she had inflicted. He thrashed a little, which made her rip the knife out and hold it back up, striking down for another blow.

He knocked the blade out of her grip quickly, mind only processing the sheer agony that was slamming against his nerves.

Natsu vaguely heard the sound of the knife hitting the floor before a body crawled over his and two lips sealed themselves against his. He barely felt them from the pain of being stabbed, but slowly, his senses lessened.

She's… killing me.

Using her own power.

If he wasn't dying, Natsu would have been smug that she had listened to him, but the fact was, he was dying. Just like how he could and would have killed her with his anger, she was going to do the exact same to him.

And by all accounts, it wasn't a horrible way to go.

Her smooth, warm lips slid against his, caressing him, moulding her body to his. Slowly, the pain from the holy wound was gone completely, leaving only something like soft electricity rumbling through his veins, her power sucking him dry.

When her tongue lightly flicked and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, his heart stuttered, alerting him that he didn't have much time left. But, fuck, he didn't care. Her smell surrounded him, her touch enabled him, her presence gave him will.

She was everything.

Numbly, he knew, this was part of her powers. He hadn't known much about the previous Lust but rumours were enough to solidify some of the accounts. Lust could make anyone her slave, make them only think about her.

Something like hypnotism and compulsion all mixed up as one.

His eyes began to slowly flutter close, losing sight of her completely, his senses shutting down until the only thing sustaining him was the warm electricity of her. Something he knew, she would rip away as soon as he had no power left.

"I'm sorry." He whispered against her lips just as his eyes slid shut and darkness surrounded him. The last of his life was slowly seeping out of him, but that last flame flickered and then the electricity was gone entirely.

Natsu felt confused, before he passed out, hanging onto the tiny flame she had left.

"Natsu! Natsu, wake up!" Wendy's voice rang through his head, clear as day, making his eyes snap open and his body to sing with pain. Her healthy blue hair was pinned back as she hovered over him, concern in her deep brown eyes.

Brown…

He sat up slowly, wishing he was quicker before asking, his throat rough, "Where did she go?"

"Who?"

"Lust. Lucy. Where is she?"

Wendy's eyebrows crinkled in confusion and worry, her lips pursing, "There was nobody here when I found you. Your office is completely demolished, but the only person in there was you." Then her eyes slowly widened as something like amazement crawled onto her expression.

"Wait. You said, Lust. The person who did all this was a sin?"

Natsu only nodded, looking down at himself with a wince. Every part of his body hurt, but the wound in his side had been healed, only leaving a scar. Normally he would heal completely, scars and all, but holy objects were different. Blessed by someone with extreme faith, and the right credentials, made it the only weapon alive that could leave a scar on a sins body.

"Why did Lust come here? I thought you had an agreement with her that you wouldn't interfere with each other's personal business."

"That was the old Lust. This one is new. All agreements and treaties between sins are null-void if one of them gets reborn." He told her, before sending a spurt of magic to all his wounds, feeling them slowly heal and mend themselves until the pain was gone entirely. He pressed his hand to his head, wondering how he was alive.

Could she have gotten distracted?

Stopped before she could take his life completely?

Or did apologising once loosen her resolve to kill him?

"That explains the message."

Natsu's head snapped towards Wendy, eyes narrowing, "Message?"

She nodded and handed him his coat, which he pulled on after he ripped the bandages off his bare chest. The scar was large against his side, the skin tender and red but it looked like it was gradually calming down. If she had gotten that hit into his heart, he doubted he would have enough strength to sustain it.

Wendy led the way to the courtyard, passing various of his people who were working on the repairs. They bowed as they passed and he did a mental count in his head, sighing in relief when Wendy told him that none had died, but few had come close.

"Anybody else would be pointless deaths." Lucy's sweet, smooth voice echoed through his mind before they turned to the first wall of defence, noting the large hole now blown through it. He also detected that from his office, you would have easily been able to see it, and the message was written on the steel wall beside it.

"We are even. Don't forget."

Natsu walked up to the large, messy letters, aware of Wendy following carefully and lifted his hand up. He rubbed his index finger against one of the letters then brought it to his lips, tasting the dried substance.

"It's her blood. Has anybody else touched this?"

"To my knowledge, no. Why?"

"A sins blood can start a plague of their accounted sin. Just touching it would infect them." He told him, noting how his finger tingled, tilting his head at the magic that prickled against his senses, trying to take him over.

"So, what? If someone touched it, they would need to…have intercourse, immediately?"

"That's a nice way of looking at it. And everyone they touched would become insatiable also. Then everyone they touched would too. Chain reaction. Massive orgy."

Wendy crinkled her nose, taking a step back from the wall, "Ew."

Natsu snorted in amusement, "That's one way of looking at it. Get a priest here to douse the wall in holy water to wash it off. Fix the damages to the outer defences first. And quarantine off this area until it's been cleansed. I don't want to take any chances."

Wendy nodded, shouting some orders as Natsu re-read the message, brewing and rolling those words over slowly in his mind. When Wendy returned, she had a curious look on her features, "What does the message mean?"

"She's telling me not to forget that she had my life in her hands. She could have killed me."

"Why didn't she?"

Natsu smiled slightly, puzzled and intrigued, "I have no idea."

Natsu eyed the goblet of wine curiously, the deep red coloured liquid almost tasting like proper alcohol but losing its flavour by the fourth sip. Wendy stood beside him, arms tucked behind her, a blank look on her face but Natsu could see the excitement simmering in her eyes.

He smothered a laugh, knowing that an event like this would be particularly interested in someone who had spent most of their life on the compound. He was glad he offered her the chance to join him.

Natsu had been to numerous council held balls before. They became tediously fake and uncomfortably boring after a while, but watching someone he knew and cared for the experience it was a good way to keep his mind occupied.

"Wow, look at her hair. It's beautiful." Wendy gushed to him a few minutes later, and Natsu glanced at the woman she was talking about, smiling amusedly at her words.

"Are you envious of it?"

Wendy nodded with a pout, "I wish my hair was that… smooth. And look how nice the colour is!"

Natsu chuckled, "Well, she is Envy. It's only natural you'd find it appealing."

Wendy swerved to face him with an awed look, "That's Envy?"

"Well, she prefers Mira but yes, that's the sin Envy."

"That's so amazing. I've never met another sin before, besides you, of course."

Natus nodded, before offering, "Did you want to meet her?"

"Are we allowed?"

"It's a ball, I suppose mingling might be the proper etiquette." Natsu mused, grinning at her little eye-roll before leading her over to Mira, who was glaring quite ferociously at a woman in a dress very familiar to hers.

"Mira. You look lovely." He greeted, and she turned to him, wearing an annoyed but gracious smile.

"I would look better in her dress. Why didn't I tell my assistant to get more diamonds added to my gown?" She shook her head, disgusted with either herself or the woman, before stepping forward and placing a small kiss on Natsu's cheek.

Then she looked to Wendy with a curious, tight eye, "And who is your friend?"

"Wendy Marvel. She's one of my friends from the compound."

Wendy held out a shaking hand, "It's so nice to meet you."

"Now, why didn't I hold my hand out first?" Mira muttered, before shaking Wendy's hand firmly, growling to herself, "Where have my manners gone?"

Wendy glanced at Natsu, letting out a nervous laugh, and Natsu grinned, keeping his voice low to inform her.

"Most sins have double edged swords. Envy makes other people envious, but finds herself envious of the people around her for one thing or another."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It is child, it is. I can ignore it most of the time, but balls always were my weak-spot. There is simply so much to be jealous of at a function such as this one." Mira stated, her face in a perfect, planned smile but her eyes narrowed at a necklace a woman was wearing as she passed.

"So it's not all the time you feel this way?" Wendy asked, greedy for information.

"I have been Envy for many, many centuries, child. I have perfected the art of ignorance."

"Unless you are at balls," Natsu stated before he downed his drink as Mira sighed, the sound a hopeless, pitying thing.

"Unless I am at balls. Or a hot spring. No matter how much exercise I do, I always find myself seething when I see a naked woman."

Natsu chuckled to himself, placing his goblet on a passing tray. Mira watched him out of the corner of her eye, before muttering, "You'd think that they would have better alcohol at this place. That is one thing I am not envious about."

"It is lacking. They were probably worried about Gluttony stealing it for himself." Natsu agreed as Wendy gasped.

"Gluttony is here as well?"

"All the sins were invited." Mira mused, sipping her sparkling champagne daintily, "However, I was unable to acquire the final guest list and am not sure who accepted and who passed."

"I'll guess I'll just have to take that beautiful wife of yours then!" A wicked laugh met their ears, and they all turned, watching the tall man, grin dangerously at the couple in front of him, "You don't mind do you, I've always had a penchant for sparkling things."

Mira sighed, "Laxus. I was hoping he would reject the invitation."

Natsu smirked a little, "Greed and Envy were always a little… touchy with each other." He told Wendy who watched the man antagonise and bait the angry man and blushing wife.

"They have a history?" Wendy guessed, eyeing the large man who was leanly muscled, dressed in a simple tux, with shoes that glistened in the light.

Mira scoffed at her question but Natsu nodded, sending Wendy a wink, "After a few… arguments, they do not like each others company as much as they once did."

"Natsu, don't spread rumours about me."

"Apologies. They still enjoy each others company, even when they are fighting." Natsu corrected, smirking at Wendy's delighted giggle as Laxus caught a glimpse of a man holding a rather expensive, and fancy looking cane.

They all watched as he ignored the man and walked away, following the cane with a, well, greedy look in his eyes.

"Are there any other sins here?" Wendy asked them both, excited to learn more as Natsu glanced around, unable to spot any. However, Mira sighed and reached down to lift the tablecloth up from behind them.

A shirtless man, dozing underneath the table, hands locked behind his neck, a soft snore leaving his mouth as his chest expanded and deflated evenly greeted their eyes. Natsu rolled his eyes with a small grin as Wendy peered at the man curiously.

"Sloth?"

One of his eyes popped open, and Wendy yelped, jumping back behind Natsu who shook his head.

"You're so fucking lazy. Go find a room or something to sleep in." Natsu kicked lightly at Gray's feet which made the man scowl, before yawning.

"It's not my fault I find your company utterly boring."

He climbed out from under the table, accepting the shirt and jacket Mira gave him, ignoring the gasps of a few party-goers as he dressed slowly, yawning every few seconds.

"He's not that impressive," Wendy whispered, peering out behind Natsu, who sighed.

"I know. He's just a grumpy old man who sleeps wherever he can."

"Go fuck yourself, Natsu. I had a tiring day." Gray left his shirt un-tucked and ran a hand through his lopsided dark hair.

Annoyance simmered up through Natsu's calm mood, "Oh yeah? Doing what exactly?"

"I don't have the energy or patience to deal with you." Gray only murmured, turning away from Natsu dismissively which made Natsu take a deep breath in, settling his annoyance before he would get angry.

"So, we have Sloth, Greed, Envy and Wrath. Four out of seven." Wendy counted them off on her fingers before humming softly, "Do you think any others will show up?"

"They risk the council visiting them at home. They use this ball to keep tabs on us, make sure we haven't gone completely mad." Mira informed Wendy, growling at a little girl who had a bow in her hair, fingers twitching into a fist.

Gray glanced around lazily, his shoulders slouched, hands in his pockets, "Seeing as we are completely mad at our own turf, I would say everyone shows up. There's Pride." He flicked his head across the ballroom and Natsu bristled, noticing the woman who wore that sin like a badge of honour.

Long red hair fell down her back, twisted into tight curls. Her skin was a light tan, flawless and untouched by scars, or marks of imperfection. The dress she wore was a dark blue, a contrast to her flaming hair, and she stood perfectly straight, conveyancing the area closely, from her white horse.

"Now she looks like Pride." Wendy murmured, amazed before asking, "What is she like?"

"Annoying."

"Scary."

"Irritating."

Wendy glanced between the three of them, as they all stared out at her. Mira looked as if she was about to die from envy, Gray kept his eyes slanted, and Natsu just looked upwards, remembering the last time he had seen Erza.

"Let me just tell you, Pride, is one of the only beings in this world that I cannot stand. How dare she walk in here, acting like she owns the place? She doesn't, the Kingdom does. And furthermore, I think we should all avoid her entirely because if I hear any of her pointless, inspiring drivel, I will go insane." Mira growled, reaching out to snatch another flute of champagne, giving a scowl to the waiter who jumped at the sudden movement.

He fled, leaving Gray to sigh.

"You don't like anyone."

"I especially don't like her."

"That's because you want to be her." Gray drawled, an ambivalent look on his features and Mira flushed angrily, the look so odd that Wendy had to blink.

"Don't be absurd, a dead toad would not want to be her."

Natsu rolled his eyes, before an amused, warm voice spoke from beside him, "Look at this. Wrath in the flesh."

He grinned, turning to Laxus who held out a hand, a smirk on his features. They shook, as Natsu mused, "I'm more surprised that you are here. Didn't you get banned from all royal events?"

Laxus shrugged, "Apparently. Yet they send me an invitation anyway." His eyes glided past them, not acknowledging Wendy and tilted his chin.

"Gray, you are looking shit as usual."

"Lack of sleep. Lack of motivation." Gray tilted his chin back as Laxus found Mira with his eyes, slowly raking down her figure. She narrowed her eyes back, daring him to say anything, that would make her angry.

Natsu sighed, knowing that Greed would.

"Mira. Looking ravishing. Green with envy is a great colour on you."

"Not everyone can pull off your thrift shop look, sweetie." She cooed back threateningly, glancing at his newly acquired cane which Laxus just shrugged as if the fact that he had stolen it - and they knew he had stolen it - didn't matter to him one bit.

He looked out at the dance floor to Pride, "You know if we stand here like this, we are basically sitting ducks."

"Good catch. Now if you go away, we have more of a chance of not being detected." Mira sipped on her drink, a smile sliding onto her lips. Natsu chuckled softly, as Gray snorted, leaning against the table behind them. Wendy watched, amazed how these four sins conducted themselves.

With all the power in the world, and they bicker like children.

"Mira, don't try and fool me. I know you missed our chemistry."

"Like the sewer misses the shit, Laxus. Like the sewer misses the shit."

Wendy glanced away from them for a moment, trying to stifle her own laughter at their banter when a figure approaching Pride made her suck in a breath.

"Who is that?"

Natsu glanced away from Mira's ferocious side-glare and out to Erza, where a woman was walking towards her. His heart gave a dull thump, his eyes raking over the long, sleek blonde hair, the creamy skin, and the two dark, captivating eyes that skimmed over people as they passed.

As if she didn't know they were looking at her.

Everyone she passed was staring. Blatantly, losing all sense of manners and self-preservation. Her lush, opulent body was tightly snug in a long pearl gown, glitters of decorations decorating the back. Her own back was completely bare, the dress somehow supporting her curvy chest, the back of it starting just at her hips.

She walked with purpose, a sexy long walk that moved her body in a tantalising way. Natsu's mouth watered as he recognisable the stark contrast of what she wore when she tried to kill him all those years ago.

"That is Lust, child," Mira whispered, also in awe before she shook herself out of it, watching as Lucy embraced Erza in a friendly, dainty hug. The light shined off her skin, illuminating all those features that seemed way too beautiful for sight to perceive.

"I didn't know Lust had been reborn," Laxus stated, his voice a little low but amused.

"Seventy-five years ago now," Natsu informed them, quickly doing the math that it was five years since they had first met.

"She's… different than the other Lust." Gray murmured, his tone ambivalent but Natsu recognised the husk of a man appreciating the view. A wild burst of anger flared through him but he tapered it down, watching as the pair parted, a small, gorgeous smile on Lucy's lips.

Wendy had been quiet this whole time, before she clicked her fingers, "So, that's the sin who tried to kill you!"

Now everyone was staring at him.

He sighed, and Wendy smiled apologetically, wincing a little.

"She tried to kill you?" Mira asked, her tone interested.

Natsu grunted.

"Do you know why?"

Natsu sighed at Gray's question, "I fucked her over in one way or another. Just like I always do."

Laxus snorted, "That's the truth. I stole two priceless heirlooms from Erza's great, great Uncle once. She never lets me forget it."

Natsu thought that killing a mother was a little different than stealing some shit, but didn't reply, grabbing another goblet, wishing there was something stronger. He downed the whole glass, trying to get rid of this sudden arousal that she no doubt sparked and felt anger at himself for letting it get to him so badly.

"Come on. Let's go find some better alcohol." He nudged Wendy, placing the goblet on the table. She didn't argue, only nodded in agreement.

Laxus smirked, "I might join you. I'm sure there are some things that a kleptomaniac like me would enjoy."

"As long as we find a room with alcohol and a couch, I'm in."

Mira sighed, "I may as well come and make sure you don't cause any damages."

"Says the woman who once destroyed a mansion because she hated that they had better walls than hers."

Natsu watched, amused as Mira and Laxus argued over the completely diamond ash-tray they had found. He was fairly certain Laxus only wanted it because Mira did but didn't dare intervene.

Gray was drawling some nonsense to Wendy who was eating it up, something about where he lived in the snow where it was dark sixteen hours of the day.

He kicked back in the seat behind the grand desk, holding the tumbler filled with scotch to his lips when the door opened. It had opened once before but the guards had caught a look of the occupants and pretended he didn't see anything.

The sins weren't denied much, after all.

Erza and Lucy stepped through, bringing the room to a crashing silence. Lucy's eyes met Natsu's and a flicker of something ran through hers before she looked to Erza, raising her eyebrow.

Erza sighed, "I suppose it was getting boring out there. Mira, don't let Laxus take that. It's got a magical tag on it which alert the Kingdom if it's stolen."

Mira grinned and Gray sighed, nodding to Wendy, "Wendy, this is Pride and Lust."

"It's so nice to meet you." Wendy gushed, holding out her hand and Erza shook it. She turned to Lucy, offering it and Lucy gave her a small, sweet smile that instantly made Wendy blush.

She held up her bare hands, "I'll pass. My power affects… people like you in peculiar ways."

"People like me?" Wendy questioned, letting her hand fall as a frown made found onto her lips. Lucy laughed softly, glancing around the room before leaning over, whispering a word that Natsu caught with his hearing.

"Virgins."

Wendy went bright red, stammering something as Lucy held up one hand, smiling apologetically, "It's for the best, dear."

"How did you know?" Wendy whispered and Lucy tilted her head, that same sweet, almost innocent smile on her lips.

"It's sort of my thing."

Erza nodded in agreement, "Lucy has many talents."

Mira frowned, "Did she just compliment someone?"

"As do I, of course," Erza added afterwards, and Laxus snorted, tugging on the ash-tray firmly.

"There it is."

Mira and Laxus shared an amused grin before they began to fight over the object once more. Erza pushed Gray's feet off the lounge, sitting in the place they vacated and Wendy returned to her spot on the floor, settling into to listen to them speak.

Lucy made her way across the room and tilted her head, "Wrath."

"Lust." He replied back, a smirk sliding over his lips, "Been a while."

"Long enough that you've added two more security walls to your fortress." She nodded, walking around so she could lean against the desk opposite him, their legs almost touching. He took a swig of the scotch from the glass he had found, trying not to feel too pleased that she had been keeping tabs on him.

"Did you want to pop by for another visit? You should have informed my guards. I've given you immunity and immediate access to the main house."

She rose an eyebrow, tilting her head with a glint of amusement in her eyes, "That's awfully generous of you."

"I enjoyed your last visit. Thanks for not killing me, by the way."

He noticed how everyone in the room shifted to look at them as Lucy smiled dangerously, her eyes sparkling now. Aware that they were being listened to, Lucy seemed to think carefully about her next words.

"You are welcome. I must say, you put up a fight."

"It's was an excellent strategy. Get me angry, then stab me with a holy object. Just distracting enough to try and suck my life out of my body." He flattered, his smirk darkening at her delighted little giggle. He had thought about the way she had approached the situation numerous times, and that had been the one thing he figured out.

"Wait, you got Natsu pissed, and survived?" Gray asked, bewildered as Lucy smiled, reaching for the glass in his hands. Natsu let her take it from him, and she pressed it to her lips, finishing it off.

"She did," Natsu stated, watching her closely as she placed the glass on the desk, humming to herself softly as she refilled it back up.

"And now you are chummy?"

"I think they are," Wendy spoke, causing Natsu and Lucy to look over at her, as well as the whole room. She flushed but continued on bravely.

"Lucy left a message saying that they were even and that he shouldn't forget. She also didn't kill anyone else within the lot. Injured a fair few, though."

"Apologies but some of it was nature. Two of your men caught one look at me and began to fight each other for my body. Hazards in the job, I guess." Lucy let out a delighted laugh and Natsu suspected the idea of men fighting over her did something great for her ego. And he liked that she was honest about it.

Laxus let out an amused snort, "I like this one. The old Lust was such a prude."

"Really? I thought she was quite wild in her personality." Erza mused before the conversations split off again and Natsu found himself watching Lucy dip her finger into his drink and lick the alcohol off the tip of her finger.

"You are staring."

"You make it awfully hard not too."

She gave him a silky smile, eyes narrowing slightly, "Did I leave a scar?"

He was surprised at the change of subject, but he smirked anyway, accepting it, "Yeah. Do you want to see it?"

She laughed, the same noise that made all those feelings stir up inside of him, "Why, Natsu, are you propositioning me?"

"That's the first time you've said my name."

Lucy stilled before that same silky smile slid across her lips, "Well, trying to kill you was a good bonding exercise."

He chuckled, "You know what else is a good bonding exercise?"

A surprised flush crawled up her neck and a prideful feeling rose up in his chest, mixing with his power and his thoughts, causing his arousal to pitch just a little bit higher. His member stirred in his pants, watching her eyes narrow and slowly move down the length of his body that was still slouched, leaning into the large desk chair.

Then she dipped her finger in the alcohol, brought it up to his mouth and rubbed her index against his bottom lip softly, smearing the liquid there.

He licked his bottom lip, the tip of his tongue sliding along her finger and he watched her eyes twinkle darkly, her lips mouthing a suggestion to him soundlessly.

`nsfw`

Natsu pressed Lucy up against a wall, their lips moving wildly against each other. They had found a small sitting room, just a little down the hallway from the rest of the sins who had given them knowing looks - apart from Erza, she seemed blank but that was normal - and let them be.

Her hands slid up his chest, tugging his shirt out of his pants, ripping the buttons out as she yanked it open. Natsu let out a low growl, sliding his fingers through her hair, grasping the strands as he bit into her lush bottom lip, sucking and nipping until he opened his mouth. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth first and they began to battle, their tastes mingling between them.

Natsu's heart pounded inside of him, surging adrenaline and by nature, anger throughout him but it clashed with her lust and turned red hot, full of electricity. It grew when her fingers lightly brushed against his nipples, then down his chest, sinking her nails into the muscles that were there.

Natsu yanked on her hair with a snarl, arousal mixing with darkness, swirling around his body. She gasped, the noise a small wet sound as their mouths parted as he latched onto her neck, leaving angry red marks, and purple bites. Her hips jumped as she slid her hands up his neck, and into his hair.

He let go of her silky locks in favour of cupping her thigh and lifting it up so that it curled around his waist, bringing their hips together in a flurry of movements that made her moan softly.

She pulled on his hair, disconnected his lips, tongue and teeth from her neck and smashed her lips against his, the force sending them backwards. He hit the side of a couch and fell onto his back, legs over the side. Lucy crawled over him, sliding her earrings out along the way, her hair falling around them in silky, long strands.

He grabbed her thighs to help her along, groaning when she sunk her weight down on him, their hips rubbing against each other. She leant over and pressed her lips to his again, fighting dominance, feeding his anger, his arousal, his everything.

"How many buttons does this dress have?"

"Zipper. On the side."

He reached around to it, sliding the tips of his fingers along the bare skin of her back for a few seconds, enjoying the softness and the shiver she made, her eyes darkening even further. He rubbed against her core for a second, tending to the hardness she had created in his groin.

She became impatient with his soft touches, pressing him to the couch before finding the zipper herself, and yanking it down. The dress lost its form-fitting style, and Natsu groaned at the weight of her breasts against his chest.

They worked on ridding the long piece of fabric together, before she fumbled for his shirt and suit jacket, moaning when his lips began to kiss, suckle and bite along her bare breasts. His cock jumped inside of his slacks at the noises she began to make, and the taste of her sweet skin against his tongue as he traced a circle around her pert nipple, sucking it into his mouth a second later.

Her back arched from above him, pushing more of her breast into his mouth and he opened them, lightly sliding his fangs along the creamy skin. She cried out when his fangs nipped on the edge of her nipple, drawing the slightest amount of blood which he lapped up hungrily, the freshness making his head spin with pleasure and delight.

He pinched her other nipple with his fingers, rolling it with his thumb as she shuddered and writhed above him, hips slipping against his. Pleasure coursed up his spine and her power flared, drowning them both in a sea of ecstasy. He groaned softly, sucking her nipple harder, grinding up into her soft heat that was barely covered by the thin pair of panties.

Her scent was something like honey with an added side of spice.

They both didn't stop when they heard footsteps coming from outside, Lucy seemed to revel in it, and slipped her hand down his slacks, wiggling her fingers to loosen the button before lightly brushing her fingers against his rock hard length. Natsu jolted, a low groan leaving his lips as she laughed softly.

"Too much for you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her teasing tone and slid the hand playing with her nipple down her stomach, between her hips and lightly rubbed her pearl, obstructed from her heat by her thin panties. It didn't stop the low, aroused moan she let out which made his lips twitch into a victorious smirk.

"Not nearly enough."

They teased each other a few times, rubbing, stroking and caressing wherever they could. Natsu groaned when Lucy twisted her wrist slightly, drawing his cock into a firm grip. Lucy shuddered when he played with her swollen pearl.

He was boiling hot, her magic and his reacting to each other, creating something as delicious as sin for half the price.

"You ready for me? I want to take you, so fucking bad." He growled into her ear, slipping a finger into her. She jolted at the intrusion before surprising him and moving her hips down so his finger slid deeper. She was velvet, warm and when she clenched, the tightness sucked his digit further into her.

They both groaned, as Lucy smirked, opening one of her eyes, so she could look down at him, "Are you ready for me?"

He grinned at her, withdrawing his finger before shoving into back into her, his cock jumping at the way she writhed above him. It was a flurry of movement to shove Natsu's pants down with only their hands, while Lucy pinned his upper body to the couch, the leather melting against his bare skin.

He was still wearing half of his jacket, the other side hanging off his wrist, his shirt in tattered shreds after Lucy had given up on removing it sensibly. Once they pushed his pants down his knees, she hovered over him and pressed their lips together, whispering against his mouth.

"Rip them."

He growled lustily, and grabbed the sides of the dainty panties, giving a sharp tug to rip them apart. Her hips jolted, sliding her wet heat against his cock which was still covered by his underwear.

"Protection?"

Lucy stilled, before looking at him with a slow smile, the heat in her eyes dying a little, "Lust can't procreate."

Something tore itself into Natsu, sending shock and sadness through his system as her words registered through him. It felt horrible, knowing that she would never had the chance to have a kid before considering her age, and now she had a deal close to immortality, but still without child for the rest of her future.

Her fingertips smoothed over his eyebrows, and he realised he had been frowning.

"Don't think about it too much." He could practically see that she avoided thinking about it and only nodded, reaching down to pull his cock out, slipping the head against her crotch. She twisted slightly, breath hitching as her eyes fluttered closed at his gentle administrations.

"You better not be going easy on me."

Natsu couldn't help but grin at her husky threat, murmuring back, "Definitely not. Just feeling you."

"I feel good, don't I?"

He chuckled at her cocky, knowing words and leaned forward, pressing his mouth against hers firmly, nipping at her bottom lip until blood rushed and it began to swell. Her tongue flicked along the seam of his, and he opened for her, groaning at the way she expertly moved her tongue against his, teasing, dancing with his own.

He slid one hand from it's place on her hip, to pluck at one of her near purple nipples, gazing at the marks he had left over her chest and neck. She murmured a soft noise, before tilting her hips so the head of his member dragged down her parting, lightly nudging the sensitive numb at the top, before aligning herself.

They didn't speak, their eyes both going down to watch her slowly lower herself onto his aching dick. Natsu growled, both hands falling to her hips so he could dig his nails into her skin, the tight wet warmth swallowing him entirely. She bit her bottom lip, adjusting her body on top off him before sinking down completely.

Her core squeezed him hungrily, and he snapped his hips up, groaning at the mix of the feeling and the noise that came from her mouth. It was a desperate noise, a filthy noise and Natsu wanted more.

More.

Now.

He began to pump his cock up into her, driving into her tight snatch over and over, soon she began to match his pace and her arms pressed down on his chest, sinking her nails into his skin. He growled when they pierced the skin, watching as she watched the blood pool, before leaning down slightly.

"If you taste my blood, you'll get angry."

"Oh, yeah?" She purred, leaning in and his muscles tensed, anger flooding through him as she ignored him entirely. She lifted up her wrist to his mouth, shooting him a wicked smile, her cheeks pink and her eyes hazed, then she pressed her tongue against the blood, lapping up the line slowly.

He brought one of his hands off her hips, pressing into her deep, slowing his trusts before nipping her wrist gently, very gently. He hesitated for a second, before licking against the small puncture wound he made gently.

Ardour flooded him, mixing with his own power, and he spun around, a low growl ripping out of his throat. They hit the hard floor with a thud but he began to flex his hips into her harshly, hands gripping her waist, pinning her to the floor and she gasped, attempting to snarl back but it choked off into a scream of pleasure.

Their power rushed and mingled with each other, twisting around and throwing their bodies into a limbo. Her core tightened around him, sucking him in, drawing everything and he hit the floor with his palm next to her head, towering over her as their lips connected.

Pants and low noises echoed through the room, salacious and loud, as he drove into her faster, feeling his end beginning to stir inside of him. She arched her back, drawing her nails down his sides, and he growled against her lips, pulling away to suck and worry at her tight sensitive buds.

She made a lewd noise before her body seized once, twice, her magic swallowing him entirely. His thrusts staggered for a moment before his anger, mixed with her passion, flared in the heat of the moment, attempting to swallow her. He brought her once more, using only his teeth and cock lodged deep inside of her before falling still, barely holding himself up above her naked, glistening body.

Lucy let out a small contented noise, and Natsu nosed at the bruises on her neck, ones he had left with only his mouth and teeth. They laid there, the moisture of their bodies sticking to the wooden flooring and a thought flooded through his mind, leaving his mouth before he could stop it.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He pulled back slightly, watching her eyes slowly open in a slow blink before she smiled sadly, despite the utterly wrecked look she was sporting.

"Because I know what it's like to not be able to control yourself when it comes to your power." She whispered, lifting a hand up to brush his hair back from his face roughly, tugging on the ends. A jolt of painful pleasure echoed up Natsu's spine, as she placed her hand against his cheek in a soft slap.

"And, when you realised you were almost dead, you could have said anything. I mean, you knew I was going to kill you. I was ready to kill you. But, instead of remaining quiet or promising that the next Wrath would get revenge, you apologised. So I used what little humanity I had left and exercised it."

Natsu gazed down at her, as she let her hand fall down, unabashed at how naked she was, and how her core still continued to spasm around his length. His eyes traced her beautiful features, his chest tightening with some foreign emotion that he ruled off to her natural power over anyone with eyes.

He took a deep breath in, before murmuring, "I am sorry."

"I know, Wrath. Aren't we all."

Her truthful words left a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth which she kissed away softly, reminding him that no matter how much pain he had caused in the past, he had to continue towards the future.

After all, what's a world without sin?

I hope you enjoyed!

Stay fresh friends!

xo freshprincess

[chapitre7]

Between the Lips

Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo [달의 연인-보보경심 려] fanfiction

Wang So/Hae Soo

Modern/War AU

Rated M

Inspired by “Eyes On Me” by Faye Wong

Soundtrack: IU’s 입술 사이 / Between the Lips (50cm)

You can barely hear the clicking of her heels against the floor amongst the chatter of the night. She takes her place behind the microphone stand, her skin shivering with the anticipation of the spotlight. She closes her eyes as the band settles around her, and only opens them once the flash lightens up her eyelids, once the sound fills her ears and her pores, once it’s her cue to start. Her glossy lips part in song and she cannot see, the stage lights are too much; she performs with practiced grace in a brightness that is darkness.

She sings, her notes permeating the cloud of suffocating cigarette smoke, her eyes desperate for solace, darting in ways, through the faces of the audience. She swings her hips in accordance, in sync, both her hands holding the microphone, cradling it, clasped almost in prayer but not, holding it in dear adoration and singing words she had written herself. Her voice follows the crescendo, the swirl of her dress, and every corner of the bar is filled with her, with her presence, with her color and glimmer. The audience claps and cheers and whistles and she smiles her scripted smile.

The entrance song is meant to enthrall, to captivate, to make them rise. Her hand moves up and down the microphone stand, her hips descending, teasing, her dress pooling at her feet, before she stands tall again, looking down at them from her stage, from her pedestal. At that moment she’s Venus, she’s more, she’s Freya, she’s the gap that shows her leg, she’s the beauty mark on her cheek and dominating, narrowed eyes. Her short wig, black velvet and shiny silk, touches her shoulders like the hands of the men that watch her, and in the pause between lyrics she leans her head back in silent contemplation, in glorious temptation, and she feels the strands tickle the skin of her neck and the wolves who want to ravish her. It’s only the first role in her ritual to the moon. The music fades away and she closes her eyes again, her body already walking away, having memorized the routine, the steps, the night. She takes off her wig backstage, and when she emerges with a new melody, she’s a different woman, she’s dark-brown hair that falls down her back, she’s a high-collared, knee-long dress that doesn’t shimmer, she’s the somberness of the after-party, she’s the call to arms of the morning. She sings no more of the smell of cinnamon in dark alleys, luring beast-like men to their profound desires; she sings of longing, of memory, of arms that embrace, that envelop, and her eyes are no longer blinded, no longer lost.

They finally lock eyes for the first time that night. During her opening act, he would sneak glances that she could barely catch, his ears would glow red, yes, she had noticed, even against the overwhelming, yellow glare. But when the veil of temptation was thrown away, her hands and her being making her way through it, parting it like a curtain with the ferocity of her feelings, she could look straight at him. In the room full of soldiers and tension, she saw him, the drink swirling in his glass to the vibrations she gave off, his mouth moving, echoing her as she sang, whispered secrets across space, lips that kissed from a distance. She doesn’t pretend the mic is her lover anymore, her lover is on her tongue, her lover is under her skin, her lover is at the tip of her fingers as she moves her hand forward, reaching for someone that isn’t there. He watches, he sings along. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t be there. On that night, he’s hers, and she sings of him. She sings of someone who is like her, she sings of a far-off place, an unknown future. She mourns the present. Her eyes are downcast and round and sincere. The men no longer whistle, they just listen, they sway. She’s a woman of the war, just like them.

She never takes her eyes off him. She sings of him and she sings for him and she’s afraid that the lights in her eyes are blinding him, too.

He’s awkward laughs that go unnoticed by his peers, by his comrades. He’s embarrassment and loneliness and slow, blinking eyes in her direction. She had watched him from her stage, from the backstage, from the bar. She watches him from every corner of the establishment every time he comes by, every time she has the chance, ever since she noticed him for the first time. From where she stands, she always feels at the center of a storm that could sweep her away if she’s not careful, she’s surrounded by tongues that touch lips, hands that move against thighs in poorly feigned restraint. If she’s caught, nothing would be left of her, no consciousness, no strength, no dignity. She’s a fine porcelain doll dancing in the middle of a maelstrom, a siren luring men to the dark waters of desire, never to be caught. She’s prey and she’s predator. She always walks away by the end of the night.

His eyes are kind.

She writes her lyrics in a dusted room in the attic, she polishes her shoes herself. She learned to sing in key as the owner of the bar sat by the piano, a strict woman who would cut her off and yell, “Again!” Again and again and again until she got it right. Every establishment, every inn, every meal is owned, prepared, and taken care of by a woman. Soon, all that would be left would be women and children, the old and the disabled. They would form a family until the world regained its sanity and the men were welcomed back into their homes and the roles that men set for themselves. Until then, there were women. Working and organizing and leading. Singing courage into the soldiers’ hearts. She writes lyrics in the attic, speaks of the parents she had lost in the war, speaks of the calm in a kind man’s arms, no breath caught in her throat after a nightmare.

He’s the drizzle that falls against the roof, the night wind brushing against her hot cheeks dusted with rouge when she opens her window. She had noticed him one day, by complete accident, her gaze moving from man to man as she sang, stopping on him with the word “love” on her lips. Her eyes lingered on his and her mouth moved to the lyrics, her lips pouting in pronunciation, and he accompanied her. He didn’t seem to undress her mentally, she could spot the process from miles away, but still she felt bare, naked, undone under his gaze, under the melody rocking between them. He leaned back with poise, the uniform perfectly matching the black of his hair, the silver glimmer in his eyes. She chose him as her muse, as the object of her art, of her lyrical affections, and every night since then, she searches for him in the crowd, and she sings for him. She wants to know his name before winter comes. She dreams of his breath against her ear and she longs to know his voice as well as she knows his mannerisms, the downcast look when his comrades ignore him, the resigned lopsided smile when he’s ignored. He always comes with the same men but she feels she’s his true companion, his confidante, all the way from the center of the room to his corner of the world. All the months of his training, all the bruises on his face, all the weight on his shoulders — she was his witness, his friend, his protector, singing odes in his name. In her mind, she calls him Warrior and Beloved. Some nights, he’s just Black — covering her like a blanket, eyes shining like stars. She writes for him, weaves him the novel of her heart.

When she sends him the note, she’s nervous like a little girl on her first night. She isn’t, not a little girl. She had made choices, she had lived. She’s still young, no wrinkles on the corners of her eyes or mouth, but still there are scars on the outside, on the inside. Who didn’t have scars, who didn’t have a story to tell? She wrote for him on a napkin and she called him to her attic, to her tower. It’s pristine clean that night, the only night it had ever been so neat, so welcoming. Waiting. Waiting.

Tomorrow, it will be war. Tomorrow, he will be gone. What tomorrow would there be? What future, what purpose?

His knocking is hesitating, nervous. She takes a deep breath and steels herself. Her heels — her evening heels, her persona’s heels — sound like knocking on the wooden floor, mirroring him, as he always does her. She resonates confidence to him, her back is poised straight, her smile is a rose, open and fragrant and colorful. His eyes take in everything, every detail, every object she owns, her notebooks, her mementos of the past. She guides him to a small table at the center of the room and offers him a drink, which he takes. He’s visibly shaking. She’s shaking on the inside, under the surface.

“What’s your name?” She asks, she’s a master actress, he doesn’t even know she’s been dying to know it for months, for years, for centuries.

“W... Wang So,” he says, he swallows, he smiles. She swirls her glass like he’s known to do, like she knows he does, and she sips her drink ever so slightly, to ease the fire of longing inside of her, lest she bursts.

“Are you scared, Wang So?”

It’s not what he expects, she can see the surprise in the way he looks everywhere but at her.

“I am,” she admits, her arms wrapping around her middle, shielding her, keeping her upright. “I don’t know if we’re going to make it.”

“How many have you lost?”

He’s leaning forward, he’s leaning towards her. She unravels herself, uncrosses her arms and legs, her hands lying between them with the palms up. She’s surrender, she’s survival. She’s young, no wrinkles in her, her hair still long and bountiful and capturing the light of the candles.

“Everyone,” she says, and he’s the only one who can hear, for the first time in a long time, she has someone to listen to her, her voice doesn’t have to bounce off the walls, she doesn’t need to go hoarse to be heard. She thinks he might take her hand, he might sweep her off her feet, but his fingers lie centimeters away from her, they twitch, they take hold of themselves. She looks up and he has the sad smile and the silver eyes and a tint of something else, maybe the flicker of the candle, maybe the reflection of her longing, she can’t pinpoint. He’s a shadow behind the thin walls that trap her, he’s a glimmer at the edge of abyss. She calls it hope.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, and she believes him.

“Will you...”

She’s foolish and needy, she touches his hand with both of hers. He’s warm and she’s so cold.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Ms. Go.”

He’s flushed and she’s shaking her head.

“It’s not my profession, Wang So. I’m a singer and an entertainer, I’m an actress, make believe, but I’m a woman.”

She bends down and takes off her shoes before she walks to his side, before she stands in front of him and takes his face in her hands. If he stands, he’ll be several centimeters taller than her, but he sits there, blinks up at her, reveres her, his hands holding her wrists, ready to push her back or pull her into him.

“Will you call me Hae Soo and stay with me? Will you convince me it’ll be okay?”

She’s placing so much on his shoulders, she can’t help it, she thinks he can take it, she feels he can hold her up for so long, for as long as she wants to. She draws his face close, cradles him, she whispers against his ear, “Won’t you accept me? Haven’t you heard me all this time?”

It’s dead silent that night, when he hoists her up by the waist and her legs wrap around him, when he kisses her. The soldiers lie awake in their beds in fear, the citizens lie awake in anxiety, and Wang So takes her to her bed and kisses her sweetly, steals the words off her tongue, holds her so close they might melt into each other, they might become one and break the laws of physics, the laws of the universe, escape their wretched present, fade away like a song. They don’t. He touches every inch of her skin and lets her burn, she falls into the waters that she owned, she’s a drowning mermaid, head thrown back and hair pooling against the pillow, his mouth on her, his fingers tracing her hips. She flips them over and he lets her, she stands taller than him on her knees, kissing down on him, biting him and marking him, a Valkyrie choosing his soul, urging him forward, she’s falling into him, he’s taken hold of her back like she’s a musical instrument and they move together. It’s better than she had imagined, his voice is deeper, he’s firmer, meeting her on her ends, whispering her name against her ear, a promise, his promise. They barely make a sound, they respect the night, every cry of pleasure swallowed by the other, the hours passing too fast in a blur, she can’t see him with the sweat and tears in her eyes and he wipes them away, he’s always so close she can remember him with her touch, tracing every beautifully crafted line of his complexion with her fingertips.

Hae Soo, known as Go Ha Jin to every other person, writes a new song that night. She writes it on his skin, in half-bliss and half-awake, before he catches her hand to adorn a kiss upon her knuckles.

“Will you remember me?” He asks and it should be impossible that he looks at his more vulnerable then, after she had accommodated him in her, in body and in heart, in memory and in flesh, her lips red and swollen by his making.

“I’ll wait for you,” she promises. It’s a lie she wants to believe.

“You shouldn’t....”

She scoots closer and her nose touches his chest, his fingers untangling the knots at the ends of her hair. She had dreamed of comfort, of arms keeping her close, but it’s her arms that circle him, her leg that sneaks between his, her voice that whispers,

“I’ll be here for you.”

He’s not there when she wakes up and she could almost believe she dreamed it all if she didn’t still feel him on her, more vivid and messy than any dream. They all leave on that day and she lies to herself that it had all been okay, that it would all be okay in the end, so that she doesn’t have to admit her weaknesses and flaws and desires and broken promises.

Hae Soo works and she lives, day after day. Her pen is still for many months, unable to do justice to the poetry he carved on her. She dreams of kindness and his smiles, and he has a name now, Wang So, calling out her name, Soo, against her mouth, singing her songs to her until she falls asleep and wakes up to an empty bed. As time passes, he grows to be more than just a fantasy in her, he lives in her as the man whose spirit she peeked at from the darkness of the bar, he lives as a fragile fragment of her own past, the insecure girl who had to find a way to live after everyone abandoned her. Her voice grows sadder, madam Oh tells her. She thinks she might have matured in the time she spent missing him, wanting to get to know him, wanting to live more than just one night with someone who looks at her like she’s important, like she’s one of a kind, like she matters in this messed up world.

She takes care of children and she takes care of the sick and she cooks and cleans and lives. Until the day she would step upon the stage again, and she would sing with sincerity, from the bottom of the ocean. She would sing so she could breathe. She would breathe again.

They win. They win and she wears her silk, her jewelry, her lipstick, her hair up with a beautiful flower adornment, the stockings making her legs shimmer. She sings to victory, to tomorrow and to hope, and she sings to him.

She catches him, as she always did. A glimpse of black out the corner of her eyes and they face each other from across the room. Her lips move to the lyrics she composed for him, oh darling, her chest arching in song, in his direction, as it did that night, to his touch. He watches her, only one eye visible, the other hidden behind black cloth, but his smile is there, he can’t sing along, he doesn’t know this song yet, but he knows the words between the lines, the way she sways, her hands dancing in the air, beckoning him, calling for his name.

After Go Ha Jin is done and Hae Soo is in her room, she hears a knock. She lets him in. They’re both young but they had lived more than anyone should live, there’s loss in them, it draws them closer, it draws them close, to each other’s arms. She touches his cheek and the eye hidden from view.

“I survived,” he says, and she hears I almost died. “Hae Soo,” he says, and she wishes she had told him, a long time ago, just how much she liked him for the heart that he gave her every time he looked at her, touched her, smiled at her. Seeing through her disguises, through her masks, through the show she put up, all the way to the woman underneath, who so desperately wanted to be loved. She’s not worth it. She would have to be, because she wants him to know, she wants him to feel it, too.

“Tell me about you, Wang So,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck, inviting him for a dance. “Tell me all about you.”

The night is long and they talk until it dies, until morning comes. There would be one more night, and a morning after that.

And a morning after that.

And a morning...

From the top, Hae Soo.

[floweringthewords]

A Father’s Gift.

It’s late but it’s long!! A little Father’s day inspired one shot

~C

I never knew what to be more happy about in the mornings: the sound of soft gurgling and cooing, or complete silence, with only the curtains softly swaying on the wind from the open window.

As long as it wasn’t crying, I couldn’t really complain.

Stretching out and poking an eye open at the crib across from me, I feel the smile form on my face at the site of Stella sitting patiently as she stares me. “Morning, beautiful,” I yawn, getting up to pull on a shirt over my sweaty torso even though I’d probably be showering later anyway. It was unheard of to go one day without one during the summers in Arizona.

I scoop Stella out of her little prison and kiss her head, cradling her over my shoulder and smiling at her mostly dry diaper. “Well aren’t I lucky?” I muse as I raise her over my head, her lips parting in a small gasp from the height. Chuckling, I jostle her to ease her fear and her laugh fills the room.

Making my way down to the kitchen with her, I get her in her booster seat as I sigh, opening the refrigerator and taking in the cool air before taking out her serving of baby mush. Maybe I’d keep being lucky and she’d actually eat it without making a fuss.

I open up the small cup and sit across from her whilst picking up her mini spoon and plopping my half-awake face in my hand. Almost instantly, she made that face that indicated she was ready to start wailing when tempted. 

“Come on, do it for daddy,” I coo, trying to sound at least a bit enthusiastic about the gunk they passed off as food.

Sure enough, she began to grimace and wriggle in her seat the closer I brought the spoon to her mouth.

Huffing, I lower it as her bottom lip puckers. “I’ll give you peanut butter after,” I mutter as if I could reason with her. 

“C’mon, Stell,” I sigh. Her hands flail when I try to maneuver the baby food to her lips because she simply wasn’t having it.

“Fine,” I grumble in defeat, standing to get the box of animal crackers. I could probably feed a cat easier than I could her. 

I let her nibble and drool on her cookies while I make myself something quick and easy. My realm of knowledge didn’t expand much beyond omelets and pancakes and anything that could be fried.

Flipping through unopened mail as I scarfed down my eggs, I pause at the one that says water bill.

Crap. I still had to pay that.

With a sigh, I drop the envelope by my plate and pull out my phone, hoping the late charges weren’t too much. It was a lot harder to remember things now that I was the one taking care of it all. It’s been a while since I had all responsibility fall on me.

Then again, everything’s been slightly more difficult ever since- My phone began to chime in my hand and I answer as my mother’s name takes up the screen.

“Hey, ma.”

“Sweets, how are you?”

That question was harder, too. 

“I’m good, just feeding Stella,” I mumble, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the dissolved cookie crumbs off her chin.

“Were you still going to come over later?”

“Uhh, yeah,” I answer, remembering last minute the promise I made to bring Stella over to see her. I also remembered how she didn’t have any clean clothes. And how I probably need to avoid using so much water to make up for this month. “Just need to do some laundry.”

My mother clicks her tongue. “You know you can just bring it right over and I’ll get it done for you. I haven’t seen my little Stell!”

“It’s not a lot,” I lie, already grabbing my keys and looking for my shoes to head over to the Laundromat. Where was my bag of quarters?

“Just don’t be too long,” my mom tuts me. “I was going to make us a nice lunch.”

“I’ll be there at 1.”

“One?!”

“Bye!” I hang up before she could argue and rush to gather all of Stella’s onesies and put on her shoes, taking her out the door with the clothes she had on. It was clean enough.

~

I got to the Laundromat in under ten minutes and park, getting Stella out of her booster seat with the diaper bag filed with both her and my clothing flung over my shoulder. Pausing for a moment as my eyes land on a long legged blonde in tights, I try to make eye contact and smile, but she was too focused on her phone to even give me a second glance so I merely watch her walk away with a groan. It had seriously been too long. I need to find a onesie for Stell somewhere that said, “No, really, my daddy’s single. Go ahead, ask for his number.”

I grabbed the empty laundry basket with my other hand and walk in, the soft bell ringing over the door. I place the bag on top of the first free washer I could find and sit Stella beside it. She observes as I shuffle through the bag like a maniac and yank out her whites, tossing them in the machine and inserting my quarters. 

Once I heard the water start to run, I take a second to exhale. Something else I forgot to do these days.

I listen as women and kids around me chatter and the machines run. One girl was twirling a coin on the floor and watching it spin, while another boy played a video game. 

I liked the sound of the ruckus. It helped fill the recent quiet in my life.

After playing with Stella and holding her hands as she giggled and danced on top of the rumbling washer, I take the first load out and rest Stell on my shoulder while I put it in the dryer. She starts whining and I sigh, placing her gently on the ground. She was at the phase of starting to crawl and lean up on things, which made for an already adventurous 7 month old.

Throwing in the next wash, I keep an eye on Stella and watch as she tries to prop herself up on the laundry basket but merely tips it over on top of herself. I laugh despite her whining and place it on top of her so that she was stuck inside. It was a dick dad move, but it was so funny watching her try to remove it.

“I think your laundry is trying to get away.”

I turn at the soft amused voice with a grin, stopping in my tracks at the brown pixie-length haired girl. Her lips were a glossy pink and her eyes shone sweetly as she smiled down at Stella.

“U-Uhhh, yeah, it does that,” I chuckle, flabbergasted.

She lifts the basket with a dimpled smirk. “What’s her name?”

“Oh,” I clear my throat and set her on my shoulder. “This is Stella.”  I run a hand through my hair. “May I ask what’s yours?”

Her rosy lips lift, revealing her straight teeth. “Jodi. And Stella sure is a cute one.”

“Definitely one of the cute ones in this room,” I chime back, hoping to God that was obvious and came off as somewhat smooth.

Jodi giggles, biting her lip. “Uhm, so what’s yours?”

“Oh, right,” I mutter, laughing and holding out my hand awkwardly as I bent down to scoop up Stella with the other. She was my best bet right now. “I’m John.”

“Nice to meet you, John,” she muses with a warm smile. “Sorry I totally like zoned in on your baby. I never see a lot of dads come in here with their daughters and it’s kind of adorable.”

My stomach does a flustered flip and I give her a crooked grin. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve kind of been out of the game, you know, since shirts with puke on it aren’t much of a lady killer.”

She laughs, her small nose crinkling in a cute way that makes my heart go haywire. 

“I’d beg to differ,” she hums, making a face at Stella, who couldn’t take her eyes off of her either.

I rub my palm on the side of my jeans and lick my lips. “Could I get a statement? Because everyone I know thinks I have no chance and that I’m gonna die a widow.”

Jodi raises her eyes to me as she raises her brow. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Yeah?” I chuckle, letting Stella tug at my hair.

“Yeah..you can die a widow and a good father.”

“Ouch,” I say with a smirk at her playful giggle, knowing she was kidding and hoping that was a good sign.

We talked for a while longer as we finished our laundry (she brought her next load closer so I could hear her), and I had the freshly warm clothes folded inside the basket while I was about to put in my last wash.

“So is it safe to say we’ll talk again?” I muse, folding one of my shirts down while Stella gurgled and chewed on her downy-scented blanket.

Jodi looks over at me from her pile of folded clothes – which she was way better at doing – and smiles. “I hope so. You’re really sweet. And I don’t think I’d be able to keep away from your little gumdrop anyway.”

I chuckle as pick Stella up from her spot on top of the clean clothes in the basket. Was I a horrible dad for using his child as a woman magnet? It had yet to be seen.

“Are you doing anything later?” she asks me, with a bit of a curious tone to her voice. Fuck, was I just imagining it but was that look…did she want me? “D-dada,” Stella whines, twisting in my arms and I put her back down like she wanted. Swallowing, I force myself to look at my watch, knowing I was well past late to my mother’s. “Unfortunately, yes. But do you maybe want to get coffee tomorrow? Or you can get a try of my homemade instant brewed coffee.” I clear my throat. “Y’know if you want.”

Jodi laughs. “Hmm. I’d like that.”

I feel my chest swell with victory, but almost instantly it’s clouded over by doubt. Was Jodi saying yes to getting coffee or coming over and me making it?

She fusses with her short waves for a moment and smiles, pointing her chin. “Looks like the next load is ready to go in.”

My brows furrow and I look behind me, where Stella was propping herself up against an open machine on top of the basket. I quickly tear her away, cursing under my breath.

“Th-Thanks,” I stammer, still unsure of where this would lead.

“So, coffee in the morning tomorrow?” she muses, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely.”

“Great,” she giggles. Shutting closed the washer and picking up her basket, she makes her way around to my side, cups my jaw with her hand, and presses her lips against mine. “Can’t wait to try it.”

I watch in astonishment as she walks away, her hips swaying and tossing a look over shoulder, pure sultry and out of nowhere.

Fuck.

a year later

“Fuck,” I pant, tossing my head back as my stomach pangs. My forehead was damp with sweat and I had to grip the sheets to keep from yanking on her hair or her whole body on top of me.

“Does it feel good?” she hums by my ear, nipping at it teasingly. Her hand moves swiftly but slowly and somehow knew every single way of making me twitch.

“Please, baby,” I groan as I picture her hot mouth around me. “I-f-fuck I need you.”

"Yeah?" she whispers, running her lips down my neck and turning me into her property. I no longer had any say what she did to me when her heavenly mouth reached my throat.

I squeeze my eyes shut as her strokes get faster. My jaw goes slack and a soft, choked sound comes out, grunting as she guides me closer to my peak. 

"P-Please," I breathe helplessly. "I need to be inside you."

She moans, almost instantly straddling me and sinking down. I hiss from the pure bliss of her envelope of heat. Her face flushes as she rides me, eyes closed and her long lashes brushing against her cheeks. 

My hands rest on her bare back as I press closer, bucking my hips up to watch her bounce further. She moans gratefully and throws her head back while I feel the last bit of self restraint start to leave me and-

I hear the soft wail from the next room, the both of us freezing. 

"J-Just give her a sec-" I muffle, hoping maybe she would settle back in and calm herself. 

"D-Daddy!"

Jodi smiles sympathetically before kissing my cheek and climbing off of me. I fumble for my boxers and rush into the room, hoping it wasn't too obvious that my daughter would question what was in my underwear.

Walking into the room, her tormented face as she cried for me was enough to make my chest ache and instantly frown. 

I scoop her out of her crib and sigh, holding her to my neck. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I hab a b-bad dream," she sniffles, clinging to me tightly. I wince and rub her back as she cries onto my bare shoulders. Her warm tears against my skin were enough to cause a knot in my throat. I hated seeing her like this and I've never seen her like this since she was a baby.

"Shhh, okay, it's okay, sweetheart, I'm right here," I murmur softly in hopes to comfort her. I rock her gently back and forth, remembering how that was always soothing for her. "Daddy's here."

She sniffs and stays quiet, her heaving and breathing slowing down as she pulls back to rub her eyes. I purse my lips and tuck her hair back.

"D'you want Jojo to come tuck you into sleep?" I ask. Her mouth instantly pulls into a deep frown as she nods, her pout quivering once more and hiding in my chest. 

I kiss her forehead repeatedly, just wanting to heal her pain. I saw it in her eyes, I saw it all over again what I couldn't do for her mother and it made me feel like I was drowning. 

How do I explain to my heart that she's still gone? 

I feel a hand on my shoulder and swallow, turning bravely with the tears in my eyes. Jodi's face falls slightly, but she keeps the front for Stella.

"Hey, gumdrop," she says in her coaxing voice, smiling and cooing. "C'mere sweetie. I've got you." 

She reaches for Jodi and I let her take her from me, letting her work her magic as I go back to to the room to catch my breath. I saw her image as clear as day and it clouded all other thoughts. Bright colored short hair and innocent dimples and freckles were replaced by black hair and blue irises and her fingers between mine. 

Jodi comes into the room a few moments later, finding me curled up at the edge of the bed. She sits beside me, the tips of her fingers running along my back as she rests her chin by my neck. “She’s fast asleep.”

I give a small smile, reaching tiredly for her hand and kissing her palm. “How do I manage without you?”

“You don’t.” Her voice was matter of fact, but still gentle and sweet. We stay silent until she rubs her nose against the back of my neck.

"You know you can talk about it with me," she whispers. "It doesn't matter how many times it takes for you to cope with it." 

I swallow the lump in my throat, thick with angst and all too familiar sorrow. Shaking my head, I let the feel of her breath on my skin calm me. “We had our whole lives planned out. We were so happy and then it just- i-it all got taken away.”

My voice and shoulders equally began to shake and her arms wrap around me, cooling the warm dampness of my body. I could feel my chest start to tighten as my vision blurred the same way my thoughts clouded with the vivid memory of her crying out in pain. I looked on helplessly as she stared at me, eyes terrified. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could have known that could have prepared me.

“Not all of it,” Jodi murmurs, bringing me back to the here and now. “You got Stella. She was her gift to you to help you keep going. She’d want you to. She wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

I bite my lip and run my hands through my hair. “It’s so hard. Even when I’m…I’m the happiest I’ve ever been but I still get these waves of missing her.” “That’s understandable, John,” she croons. “You lost someone. I can only imagine that someone being your everything.”

Taking a deep breath, I turn to her and press my lips against her curled hand. “You don’t know how much I…thank you for always being so patient with me. I-I just don’t ever want you to think that I don’t love you with all my being because I still think about her.”

Her brown eyes melt like chocolate as her lips tilt upward. “You love me?”

“As much as my little Stella does,” I chuckle, pulling her close and resting my face in her hair. “Times a dozen.”

She giggles and my heart skips a beat as she looks up at me, her lids hooded. “And I love you,” she murmurs. “And I know a part of you will always love and miss her and have a part of your heart. I’m more than happy to help repair the broken parts that left behind.”

I cup her face, kissing her deeply with all that was left of my little lonely heart. With each breath I took in, I felt all of her running through me, surrounding me from her vanilla scent to the taste of her lips. Jodi grins and wraps her arms around my neck, my own soon following suit around her waist. Her kiss always felt so different from my wife’s. There were subtle differences that set them worlds apart, like how Isabelle would kiss me soft and purse her lips, while Jodi’s was always parted and inviting, keeping herself open to me. Isabelle held me like she never wanted to let go, while Jodi clung to me like she never needed to let go. They both loved me so different. And though I knew I would always miss Isabelle’s way, nothing could replace the love I’d found. But it was still that same kind of love all in the same.

four years later

Glasses clinked all around the room while people yelled across tables, fighting about making toasts. All I could do was laugh as I hold mine up, my other hand holding a small hand.

“Daddy, why are they so loud,” Stella shouts over the ruckus, scrunching her face up.

I look down at her with a chuckle. “’Cause they’re idiots-”

“They’re just excited, gumdrop,” Jodi’s voice answers, returning to the table with her juice box and a plate of food. Stella stares at it with a gasp, instantly reaching for the gourmet ‘kids meal’ fries.

“I still can’t believe Tim finally tied the knot,” I muse as I look on to them sitting at the table, murmuring to each other and looking happy as can be. I faintly remember my first wedding and how Isabelle and I did the same, never paying any mind to anyone else while we whispered sweet nothings. It felt like decades ago.

“I’m just surprised that he was the first,” Jodi says as she props Stella into her lap, munching quietly away at the fries and chicken tender appetizers. “Jared still has yet to pop the question.”

I laugh. “I’ve been telling him he better hurry up before someone else asks for him.”

Jodi scoffs. “Yeah right. If anything, Tessa’s gonna catch that bouquet tonight and be the one to ask.”

“Or someone beats him to the punch,” I imply cleverly, my hearts pounding and the weight in my pocket heavier as I remind myself I couldn’t yet. I didn’t want to steal Tim’s thunder.

Finally, the crowd settles for Eric to make a toast and we all listen on to the ridiculous jokes and memories of our friends, knowing that they’d already been together long enough to know everything about each other. I look over at Jodi and Stella, both of them in similar soft pink dresses and white flowers in their hair.

My heart flutters and I feel a wave of nostalgia and serenity. I’d never felt more grateful to have what I have now. Despite what I lost, I gained a family and a new piece of my heart. I knew Isabelle would have wanted me to have this again. She gave me this. I knew she was looking over me and Stella and knowing that we deserved Jodi.

“Jojo, daddy’s staring at you again,” Stell giggles, outing me blindly.

She looks over with a smile and rests her hand on the table. “Is that so?”

I’m about to respond when Jared stands after the applause, next in line to make his ribs at Tim and Ashley. Jodi smirks and looks knowingly at me. “Oooh, looks like this is it,” she teases.

“Oh I don’t think so.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because,” I chuckle and reach over, brushing my finger over her knuckles.

“You’re next.”