#ok yes i did use a brush on the curls and more or less trace over it. still took me forever to do

[weaverofink]

Another Clara portrait bc I'm kind of obsessed w my new design for her :) everybody better watch out, she's busting out the Irritated Face

[daydreamed-snippets]

TW: Graves. Claustrophobia. Panic Attacks

The first thing the hero was aware of was the sound of their own breathing. 

Measured, shallow, slowly inhaling, and exhaling in the quiet. They breathed in, noting that they were on their stomach and that their ribs expanded unencumbered. Good. That meant there weren’t any ropes securing their arms to their body. That was a small victory in itself.

Still, sound was of little consequence to the hero if they couldn’t see anything. Their power depended on sight, on the ability to stare down a target, and the dilation of irises to push illusions into the target’s mind. With no light and no line of sight, the hero was effectively powerless. Left with a handful of acrobatic tricks, and the uncanny ability to run like hell when things got too hairy. 

Use what you got. 

They could almost hear their cousin’s voice in their head, berating them with that parental tone they carry. You call yourself a hero, for godssake, you can’t always rely on your powers. Improvise.

So the hero curled their fingers against the floor, fingernails scraping across the wood. Ok, maybe they were in a closet, or a crate, or box of some kind. The air was stale, unmoving, and humid. The darkness was oppressive not even the faintest sliver of light to be seen. Defiantly more of a crate than a closet, or else, they surmised, they would be able to see the seam of the door. And the air would be cleaner.

They guessed the supervillain didn’t think them a threat in total darkness, powerless and dazed. Not when the hero was stupid enough to underestimate them as they did. Sneaking into their compound, the hero assumed the element of surprise was on their side. All they had to do was find the server room, and plug in a drive that carried a virus strong enough to crash the supervillain’s whole system. Wiping out the computer’s memory completely. Just slip in and out without anyone knowing. Even if they were caught, they had reasoned arrogantly, all they needed to do was ensnare the supervillain’s gaze, trapping them in a hellish landscape.

They couldn’t realize it then but it was a stupid and reckless idea. They didn’t account for the level of security they encountered in the compound, nor how quickly and how many henchmen showed up when the alarm was tripped. They certainly hadn’t planned much of an exit strategy. The hero just saw red when it came to the supervillain. And when they became surrounded they knew it was impossible to hold everyone’s gaze. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

So the supervillain threw them in a box to rot… or to torture later. 

They tried not to let that crowd their mind as they moved on to other observations, letting out a long, sharp breath through their teeth, frustration evident. But they couldn’t shake the thought that this showed just how green they were to the field of heroics. Only a novice when you looked at the big picture, what an idiotic kid caught up in the…

That trail of thought stopped when they felt their breath blow back on their face like they were mere inches from something. Air caught in their throat. Suddenly they were keenly aware of a consistent rising and falling beneath them that they didn’t notice before. Something solid and soft and nice. They were on someone; their face planted in the crook of a neck. 

The person moved and the pleasantness of warm skin brushed against their nose. 

“Try not to move too much,” the person said, strong fingers tracing up their side in a tantalizing touch. 

A transient moment washed over the hero. Their body going instantly ridged like a deer caught in headlights. Flattening their palms on what they imagined was either side of the person’s head, the hero shot upwards rising several inches before they butted their head against a wooden ceiling. 

“What the hell?!”

“I did say try not to move too much,” the voice came again, the inflection rich, vibrant, and horrifyingly familiar. “Steady your breathing. In my estimation, we don’t have much oxygen left.”

No. 

Gods no. 

They remembered that voice all too well. It often called to them in the catacombs of the city’s slums, laughing when they stumbled over their own budding abilities. Teased when the hero was forced to retreat. Mocked them for shivering under the villain’s frigid powers, like a little whelp left out in the cold, they would say. 

The villain had said a lot of things to them amid battle in a voice as slick and as icy as their capabilities. 

“Wh-what is this? What’s going on?” Arms shaking, the hero forced themselves to perform an awkward plank, elbows bent, rising on their toes so that their body wasn’t touching the villain.

“Isn’t it obvious?” came the courtly reply, and the hero could imagine a sardonic smile play across the villain’s lips. “We’ve been buried alive together.”

Blood drained from their face at those words. No wonder the air felt stagnant and hot. No wonder their breath was shallow, quickly becoming labored. It felt like a weight slammed into their heart and their stomach flopped, threatening to overturn. 

“No. No,” they gasped, unable to catch their breath. “H-how do you know?”

“You’re a heavy sleeper, do you know that?” The villain asked it like it was the most curious thing at the moment. “I woke up shortly after they lowered this makeshift coffin into the ground. I could hear them toss dirt onto it. Luckily this wood is flimsy enough. I managed to put a small hole in the lid with my shoe before you roused.”

Oh.

They just bumped their head on the lid of the coffin they were buried in. 

They just bumped their head on the lid of the coffin they were buried in. 

The villain’s words soaked into their soul, stirring up an unknown and until now dormant phobia. They were buried alive with the villain with no way out, and only minutes of oxygen left. Seconds even. They could feel the CO2 building up, stifling their lungs. Walls pressing in on them. This coffin wasn’t meant for two people, it wasn’t big enough, there wasn’t enough room.

It can’t end like this. 

The hero had only taken the Covenant’s oath months ago. They weren’t really supposed to be an official hero yet. Their request to be recognized as one was a desperate attempt to stop the supervillain’s rampant crime spree in a part of the city the Commissioner didn’t give a shit about. Their training had been pushed off, their commencement a letter in the mail. They hadn’t even stepped foot on the top level of the city yet.

They need to get out. 

 “No, no, no, no, no, no. This can’t—” they rasped, choking.

“I did not say that to make you panic, little gorgon,” the villain said, taunting and saccharine and smooth. Why so smooth? They were going to die here too, didn’t they see that? “Pattern your breathing. You will use up more oxygen if you panic.”

How could the villain be so damn calm? Both of them were in over their heads. Literally. This was it. The hero would die here, in the arms of their enemy no less.

They couldn’t get a breath.

“What are you doing?” the villain asked, perceiving the hero’s rising panic as they dropped their head, forehead pressed against the villain’s chest.

“I can’t, I can’t breathe! It’s too—I can’t—”

“Yes you can, settle your nerves. You’re hyperventilating and that will use up all of our oxygen before we have a chance to think. Listen to the sound of my voice. Breathe when I do.”

No, they couldn’t. It was too hot. They were sweating. Burning up. They were in the pit of hell and there was no possible way they could force air into their lungs. They were going to vomit and suffocate, their descent into death was going to be painful. 

Their hands flew to their collar, pulling frantically at the material that hung around their neck. It was constricting. Tightening like a snake. Moving to strangle them. The hero’s elbows dug into the villain’s sides, earning a swift groan.

“You need to listen to me,” the villain said, but they didn’t. They couldn’t. They needed to get some air, they needed to get their shirt off. They were going to die if they didn’t. They clawed at the fabric, ripping it. It was too hot. It was— 

“I’m going to touch you now.”

Deliciously cold hands skimmed over the base of their neck, pushing back their shirt so skin met skin. A gentle grip pulled the hero’s head up, exposing their throat, sending the hero’s hand skittering away tasked again with the job of holding themselves up. The villain blew out a brisk wind, and the temperature cooled in the coffin considerably. The hero no longer wanted to scratch at their uniform. 

“Lay your hand flat against my chest,” the villain commanded. “Put your weight on me.” 

“What? No…”

“Just do it,” their voice held a different kind of ice to it. The mocking tone is gone. “Trust me for once. Our lives depend on it.”

The hero complied. 

“Marvelous,” the villain murmured. “Now, inhale when you feel my chest rise. Exhale when I do.”

Beneath their palm, the hero could feel the quickened beats of the villain’s heart, contrary to their serene words. They were anxious too, but the villain still kept their breath steady. Their heartbeat being the only tell that anything was amiss. For some reason that made the hero feel better, and they relaxed a bit.

“Hearken to my voice. Breathe in through your nose, fill your lungs until you can’t inhale anymore. Hold it as I do,” the villain said, demonstrating. “Then let it out through parted lips.” 

The hero acquiesced. 

When the villain took a deep breath, the hero mimicked it. When the villain exhaled, the hero did the same. They attuned themselves to the villain, resonated with them. Pushing everything out of their mind except for their placement on the body beneath them. The villain might as well have been a beacon of light in the darkness of that coffin. It blinded the hero as if they could see, brows furrowing at the villain’s nearness, eyes tightly shut. Obeying their voice, focusing on them until there was nothing outside of that sole moment. They became too aware. The villain couldn’t move a muscle without the hero being painfully attentive to how broad their shoulders were, how their ribs flared out, and how their waist tapered to narrow hips. They smelled like sweat and dirt, and some strong earthy soap. Intoxicating. 

Slowly, they guided the hero’s head back to their neck. The two resting comfortably as they did before. “You’re doing lovely. That’s right. Nice even breaths,” they praised, hands leaving the hero’s neck to stroke long fingers through their hair, driving shivers down their spine with a gentle touch. “Can you talk now?”

The hero’s heart ricocheted. They fought once again to get it under control. They hesitantly said, “yes.”

“What were you doing in the supervillain’s compound?”

“How did you?” the hero swallowed, breathing quickening. A cool hand was at the nape of their neck again, calming them. “How did you know I was there?”

They felt them smile against their forehead. “I had my suspicions, unconfirmed as they were, but the way your breathing has changed just now is telling me everything I need to know. Maybe we should do this more often. Cuddle, I mean. I may just uncover all of your secrets this way.”

The hero was silent. They didn’t trust any reply they gave not to have a squeak in it.

“It was a joke,” the villain said, ambivalent, conveying anything but. “You’ll have to admit this brings new meaning to ‘lying with the enemy’.”

They licked their lips, voice horse. “It’s sleeping,” the hero said in a whisper earning a questioning hum from the villain. “It’s sleeping with the enemy.”

“Now there’s a thought.”

Hating the blush that crept up to their neck, the hero decided it was wise to go back to the question at hand. “I, uh, broke into the supervillain’s compound. I tried to upload a virus to their computer. It didn’t work. I was caught. I ended up here.” Duh, the last part was a no-brainer. Their mind stumbled on. “How, umm, why did the supervillain put you in here? I thought you worked together.”

“We did, but we disagreed on certain matters,” they said in a careful voice. This was the first time the hero was aware of it. They shift their head, wanting more. Obligingly, the villain continued. “I assume you found out that the supervillain has been experimenting on the people in the slums as I did. That part of the compound was hidden away from me. I had no idea how many bodies the supervillain had piled up back there. My discovery angered them, and I can only assume their best revenge was to bury me in here with you.” The villain shifted, getting comfortable. “Perchance they thought we’d kill each other in here. It would have been an effective torture.”

“Why didn’t you kill me? You said that you were awake before me. Why not strangle me in my sleep?”

“I needed you alive, little gorgon, not even I can escape this tomb alone.” The villain’s hands came back, stroking as they went. “And I wanted you to trust me. I know our past is...complex, but it doesn’t have to be like that. We can start anew if you want to do that.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“I imagine you want to live, no?” The light teasing in their voice was back. “Well then, we must move now.” The petting stopped, and the hero missed it, much to their chagrin. They shouldn’t get used to this. The villain was still the villain after all. Even though they did help them calm down, diverting a catastrophe. 

The hero could feel the villain tense beneath them as they reached up towards the coffin’s lid and pushed. “We are going to punch and kick our way through the top of the coffin. As I said, I couldn’t do much on my own with your body weighing me down, but if you work with me, we may be able to break the lid.”

“How?”

“You’ll turn around in a moment, and push your legs upward when I kick. We’ll both lift the lid once it starts separating from the rest of the coffin. That’s step two. Once the top of the coffin breaks, the soil will start pouring in. We will need to push the dirt down to our feet. More will pour in and we will do the same with it until this coffin is full and you can sit up. Since it’s a newly filled grave, the dirt hasn’t had time to settle and harden. It will be strenuous, hero, but feasible.” 

The villain paused. “I am going to unzip your outfit,” they said after a moment. Chilly gradually brushed down towards their chest fumbling with the location of the hero’s zipper. “Lift up for me.” The hero found that they obeyed almost immediately. They stopped themselves midway.

“Why?”

“This is step one. We will need to cover our faces with our clothing so we don’t suffocate while attempting to rise from this grave,” the villain explained, calmly, like it was a simple thing. Except the hero was wearing a jumpsuit. An onesie. Not Covenant issued, but something similar. Their cousin and some neighbors pulled their money together and had gotten the hero an upgrade when they had received the commencement letter. They were ecstatic at the time. Now they regretted it. Nevertheless, the villain’s fingers made deft work, drawing the uniform from the hero’s shoulders and shimming the one-piece down their legs, allowing the hero to kick out of it. 

“Now do the same to me.” 

Luckily the villain wore a simple jacket, with a side zipper and a light shirt underneath. The hero didn’t have to fumble much in the dark, though they did have to scoot down, back scrapping against the top as their chin rested on the villain’s stomach just to get the jacket off. With how cold the villain's hands were, it was a wonder they weren’t making comments about how hot the hero’s face was. The hero was sure they were entirely red by now.

Pushing that out of their mind the hero grabbed their abandoned uniform and placed it in the hands of the villain who wrapped it around the hero's face. The hero did the same with the jacket to the villain.

“You’re going to turn, and on the count of three we are going to kick,” the villain said loudly, voice muffled. The hero turned and braced their legs against the lid. Counting in their ear, the villain brought their legs up against the lid. Again and again and again until the wood split, and dirt tumbled in. The hero worked to push most of it down. They punched the lid, channeling their anxiety and their anger into their fists, hands breaking on the wood, blood flowing from cracked knuckles. Hands on their back pushed them, and the hero wrestled to sit up, fighting against the weight of the dirt. Fighting to cheat death. The claustrophobia was almost too much to bear, any moment feeling like they would succumb again.

They broke the surface. 

Clawing at the ground they lifted themselves out with the last of their strength, ripping their uniform from their face, collapsing on the ground mere feet from the grave. The villain followed soon after, comparable to a zombie from a crypt. For a long while neither budged, breathing deeply, staring at the morning sky. 

But soon somebody did move. They were always the first to move. This time, crawling over to the hero, wildly panting. The villain was covered in dirt, hair mused and blood dripping from cuts on their legs—but their eyes. Those eyes were iced, intense, dissecting the hero’s alive. 

With a fright, the hero realized that their mask was removed when they yanked off their uniform. They were exposed, identity laid bare, and in nothing but their undergarments no less. They turned their head, hiding their face in shadows cast by the dawn.

Tsking, the villain’s cold hand shot out, seizing their chin, maneuvering their head the way they please so that their face was turned towards dayspring. “None of that. Not when we’ve been so intimately acquainted,” they said, a honeyed inflection. “Now I get to see the face behind the mask.” They smiled, admiring how the hero’s eyes widened in fright. “I didn’t expect you to be so fetching for a vagrant playing the hero. You always did run away whenever our battles went poorly for you. I’ve never gotten a glimpse before.” 

Drawing themselves up to their knees, the villain loomed over them, bringing both hands to cup their face. Something in their eyes gave the hero chills, all instances of compassion and kindness gone. Replaced by a sick kind of affection. 

Improvise!

Defiantly, the hero raised their chin, staring bolding at the villain’s eyes, willing their powers to trap the bastard in a nightmare. To keep them from doing whatever it was that swept through their villainous mind. 

But nothing happened. They were too weak to call upon their power. Shaking, exhausted, both hands laid useless at their side, crippled. The pain of their knuckles screamed at them, needing attention, needing an outlet. The hero mewled feebly, a single tear streaking down their cheek as the villain’s hand wrapping around the hero’s nose and mouth. They clamped down cutting off the hero’s air supply.

“While I would love to say it’s nothing personal,” the villain said quelling the hero’s jolts and jerks as the latter’s eyes drifted closed after a violent struggle, body going lax in their hands. “That wouldn’t be the least bit true, would it?” 

Scooping the hero in a bridal style, mindful of their broken hands, the villain looked towards the skyline, chuckling. “I’ve had my eye on you since you started sniffing around into our little operation, gorgon. Though the method could have been different, it was nice of the supervillain to drop you in my lap so to speak. And I’m not one to waste this golden opportunity to take you to my lab and slice you up bit by bit. I will make sure to take detailed notes. I’ve never experimented on a hero before.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

and the stars (they all aligned)

Fandom: Sex Education Pairing: Ola Nyman/Lily Iglehart Rating: E Word Count: 3887

Summary: Ola knows there's more to outer space than aliens with penis-fingers, and from their spot on the hill, gazing up at the night sky with Lily, it's never felt closer. They've never felt closer.

“Life can get small, you know?” Ola says sadly. The gravity inside her body still feels a little off, like her heart’s bobbing around, unsure whether to float or land. She’s sad, she’s elated, she’s aching for her mum, she’s grateful to have her girlfriend next to her on the grass.

“Like when I stopped writing my stories,” Lily suggests, frowning thoughtfully under her silvery makeup.

“Yeah. But the stars are so beautiful out here. I feel like, if I laid down and just looked straight up… blocked out the people and the lights from the houses… I could see really far into space.”

“You are seeing far into space, with some of these.” Lily points a pale, precise finger up above them. “The light’s coming from such a long way away that you’re basically traveling in time. And that’s real,” she quickly emphasizes, “not science fiction.”

Ola smiles widely.

“Cool.”

The other spectators are beginning to walk back to their cars and homes, but Lily and Ola lie back on the plaid blanket. Lily’s arm pulls her gently closer until Ola’s resting her head on her girlfriend’s chest. Just when it seems that the star shower has ended, another lone light flies past.

“They’re meteors, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Lily says, but Ola can tell she’s held something back.

“If you want to say what you imagine them to be,” she prompts, “I’m here to listen.”

“Aliens,” Lily blurts, given permission, but then she adds: “Or angels.”

Ola lies very still for a minute, breathing, feeling the plasticky pink stripes on her girlfriend’s outfit pull on her cheek a little when she repositions her head.

“Angels?”

“Well, this was your mum’s favourite place,” Lily says, straightforward and unflinching, the way she explains everything that can’t possibly be real. “So maybe angels. Cosmic angels who ice skate on Jupiter’s frozen moon, Europa.”

“Aww, that’s lovely.”

“And hump the rings of Saturn.”

“That’s not really how I’d like to picture my mum’s spirit.”

“Sorry,” Lily says. Ola can hear the wince in her voice and gives her waist a quick squeeze to show she isn’t upset. “The cosmic angels could also be juggling moon rocks.”

“Tanning on planets that orbit three suns.”

“Riding spiral galaxies around like a carousel!”

“And when we see shooting stars,” Ola says with a smile, “they’re surfing.”

“Yes, I think that’s right,” Lily agrees, sighing contentedly beneath her. “You know—” She taps the nape of Ola’s neck like Ola’s seen her tap her desk when she’s writing and pauses to consider the next turn her intergalactic saga will take. “—you’ve got a really good imagination.”

Delighted, Ola lifts her head and smiles at her girlfriend.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“So do I,” Lily says while Ola nods, “but maybe I use it too much? If I’d been better at living in reality, you wouldn’t have gotten sick of me.”

Ola frowns. She’s big on showing affection through physical contact and instinct tells her to brush Lily’s hair back from her face or something, but it’s too slicked down tonight, the silky length of it twirled into a magnificent pair of space buns, wound through with metallic thread. Her girlfriend is so creative, and so many beautiful things come from her brain. Ola hates that Hope, their classmates, and even her made Lily believe her ideas and the way she expresses them aren’t valuable.

“Lily. I was never sick of you.” She reaches to adjust the gleaming pleather collar of Lily’s outfit, then leans down to nuzzle her nose against Lily’s. “And I never want you to use your imagination less, or try to turn it off, or anything like that. The answer might even be to use it more.”

“More?”

“Yeah.”

Ola drops her head onto her girlfriend’s chest again, hugging into her side as a chatting couple wheel a stroller up the hill past them. She thinks of the new baby while Lily mulls over what she’s said. Joy. They’ll have to sedate her dad if they want him out of the hospital tonight while that tiny girl slumbers there. Joy will learn, when she’s older, what a good dad she had from the very beginning—watching over Joy and giving Ola, well, space. She stares up at the sparkling scatter of stars.

“Because there are other ways for us to enjoy having sex,” Lily says a few minutes later, no preamble.

Ola nods, face shushing across her girlfriend’s costume.

“We’ve done so much together already, but I’m sure there’s loads we haven’t explored.” She shrugs. “I might never have tried any sort of alien roleplay if I hadn’t met you, and you come up with new things you want to try all the time. You inspire yourself, through your writing, and I think that’s amazing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Ola says confidently. “I do.”

“Your mom must have loved you really well,” Lily murmurs, “because you love really well too.”

Ola is a box. A clear, plastic box with a hatch where her heart is. She is an incubator, like Joy’s, housing a very fragile thing, and Lily has reached inside to cradle that thing in her careful hands. Ola sniffs and the stars smudge into a big, messy glow up above. She blinks fast as her eyes brim.

“She did.”

“I wouldn’t want to be abducted without you.”

Ola laughs wetly.

“Thanks, Lil.”

Lily speaks some more, but it’s not to her. She mumbles and traces lines up and down the sleeve of Ola’s green jacket. Ola can tell she’s thinking out loud; the words ‘pulsing’ and ‘Glenoxi’ and ‘penis-fingers’ hum in the air over their heads. She’s prepared to flip off anyone who looks at her girlfriend strangely, but the final stragglers march by in their own wild costumes, dragging signs with hopeful and blatantly sexual pleas. Huh. Some of these really are Lily’s people.

Once they’re alone on the hill, Ola sighs and rolls fully onto her back, head on Lily’s oversized round belt buckle as she lies perpendicular to her girlfriend. She kicks her legs out, feet apart, and folds her hands over her stomach. Lily’s fingers creep over and toy with her rainbow pin. Smiling at the warmth of her girlfriend’s hand through her jacket, Ola’s finally ready to do what she said before: block out everything else and look up.

The dark is comforting and lovely. When she relaxes the muscles in her face, lets her gaze go unfocused and fuzzy, all of that celestial light becomes a soft background for her thoughts and feelings. She imagines that she (and Lily, of course) are someplace else, far from this hill and the wonderful, painful complexities of their lives. Would she be able to see Earth? She supposes that she would, diving back through her memories to her childhood treehouse, the telescope her dad hauled up there for her and her sister. Ser du det, Ola? Det är planeten Venus. She’d forgotten about that clunky old telescope.

From a distance, Earth would twinkle too, reflecting the light of the sun. Magic. There are so many incredible things, Ola thinks, that are true. Facts that inspire fiction, and are in some cases more wonderful than anything most people could make up.

She rolls onto her stomach, propped up by her elbows.

“I’ve… had a thought,” Ola says, gaze sweeping up Lily’s torso to her face, where wide eyes swivel to stare back at her.

“About what?”

Ola stretches a hand out to trace her girlfriend’s upturned nose with a fingertip.

“Something we could do,” she says slyly. She brings her finger down to cover Lily’s lips and Lily bites the end with faux-ferocity.

“Here?”

Ola nods, grinning.

Eagerly, Lily sits up.

“Well, tell me,” she says.

“We’re going to go on a journey,” Ola informs her. Lily smiles reservedly, waiting for more. “And you can narrate.”

“Where are we going?”

“Space.”

Lily glances from side to side, at the hilltop that’s darker now everyone’s left with their torches and camera flashes and glow-in-the-dark clothes. Only their candle remains.

“Where are we really going?”

“Nowhere, technically,” Ola says, scrunching her nose. “We’ll do it right here.”

“Ok,” says Lily gamely. “What is it we’re doing?”

Pushing up onto her hands and knees, Ola leans forward to kiss her. It’s quick, but when it’s over and her girlfriend inhales like she’s going to ask another question, Ola kisses her again, smiling against her lips. Sometimes doing is better than explaining.

Lily’s hand raises and cups her cheek. It’s when Ola feels the other hand curl around the back of her neck and flex as Lily presses more enthusiastically into the kiss that she knows she’s got it, she’s understood. They kiss faster and Ola’s hands skitter across Lily’s belt, searching for a piece to undo until she realizes its overlapping ends Velcro together in the back, hidden by the cape. The ripping sound of the strips unfastening makes them both laugh. Ola lays the belt out on the blanket before planting one hand on her girlfriend’s far side, bracketing her as she reclines slightly onto her elbows and they continue to kiss.

Lily’s cape is designed like a vest, with holes for her arms to go through. Ola tugs at one, then accepts that she won’t be able to get it off over the massive, padded shoulder spike on Lily’s bodysuit. Not without help.

“You won’t be too cold, will you?” she checks, sitting back to allow Lily to maneuver out of her cape.

“Not yet.”

“And if I want to take this off as well?” Ola asks coyly, sliding her hands along her girlfriend’s outfit, up from the waist to knead Lily’s breasts through the quilted fabric.

Lily smiles back and tips her chin up, encouraging the deep kiss Ola sinks into, already feeling her arousal climbing with the anticipation of trying out this new idea. Maybe she should have found a way to talk to Lily about introducing some variety sooner, because it’s been a while since she felt this level of excitement for sex. She always enjoys herself, but it has been a little hard, acting out one of Lily’s fantasies after another without ever taking the lead herself. Hopefully, tonight establishes a revised balance in this area of their relationship—a fusion that’s partly Lily, partly Ola.

Locating the zipper at the back of Lily’s costume, Ola pulls back.

“This is ok, right?” she asks, because Lily never said out loud that she wouldn’t be cold.

“I think so,” her girlfriend says. She looks down. “I can snuggle into the blanket as well, don’t forget.”

Ola scans their surroundings.

“And there isn’t anyone around,” she says, grinning. Could she be into the idea of getting caught? She’s never considered it before! Not actually caught, of course, because she very much wants to keep this about the two of them, but there’s a thrill surrounding the possibility that Ola didn’t expect.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” Lily counts down. “Ignition.” She holds Ola’s gaze and lifts her eyebrows, some sort of a cue.

“Oh, got it,” Ola says, beginning to unzip the silvery bodysuit.

Arms wrapped around her girlfriend from the front, her hands slide down as she exposes Lily’s skin to the air. She can tell through the material that there isn’t anything underneath it—no lines, no ridges but her spine, her shoulder blades—so when the zipper hits the end of its track at Lily’s lower back and Lily peels the front of the outfit down, Ola isn’t surprised to be confronted with her girlfriend’s bare breasts.

The shinier segment of the costume winds up being a sort of torso-less shirt—the sleeves connecting to the high collar that encircles Lily’s neck. That part stays on as Lily wiggles and hops, getting the sleeveless bodysuit over her hips and bum, and Ola sees that the shiny leggings are separate as well.

“This is really cool,” she notes.

“Thanks,” Lily says, working the bodysuit off over her nearly-knee-high boots. “The cape…?” she wonders when she’s done.

“You can put that back on.”

“And you want me to talk?”

“Yes please. Just not about aliens,” Ola adds, watching her girlfriend’s expression cautiously for signs of hurt.

But Lily’s face is open, unoffended. She shrugs into her cape.

“Alright.”

“I mean, if you find you have anything you want to say,” Ola clarifies. She smirks as she slips her hand between Lily’s thighs, cupping her and rubbing a bit through the leggings.

“I think the ship—the normal, regular Earth spaceship,” Lily clarifies, breathing slightly unevenly, “—is monitoring a disturbance. A buildup of energy.”

“Oh?”

Ola smiles wider, then bends over her girlfriend, running her mouth along her skin below where her sleeve-top conceals her collarbones. Gradually, Lily lies back. As Ola hoped she would, Lily narrates, easily spinning a science-fiction story that’s heavy on the science for once. Ola kisses back up her throat as Lily’s high voice speaks clearly of stellar nurseries, dense with dust and gas. In spite of her flowing words and dreamy descriptions, the actual subject matter doesn’t sound that nice to Ola, until Lily announces the mission of this particular spaceship. (“Mmm?” Ola asks wordlessly, kissing below Lily’s jaw; Lily nods to acknowledge that Ola’s mouth will indeed be playing the role of the spaceship in this scenario.) It’s closing in on this cloud of stellar stuff in search of the new star that’s about to be born.

“Passing between huge planets,” Lily says, while Ola hunches hungrily over her body and kisses down between her breasts. “Gas giants. Jupiter, maybe.”

Ola nearly starts laughing when Lily confirms one of the planets to be Jupiter by the fact of ‘the ship’ spying its Great Red Spot—Ola’s focused in on Lily’s nipple, dragging it tenderly between her teeth before sucking to deepen the colour; with the blue of the night, that’s closer to purple than Lily’s normal rosy pink.

She keeps going and so does Lily, infusing every lick and tug with the richness of her imagination, as well as actual knowledge of the solar system, about which she seems to know quite a lot. For a risky, romantic hookup under no roof but the sky, it’s rather educational.

The minute Lily’s bent knees go flat as she straightens to her full length, Ola swings a leg over to hover above her. She redoubles her attention to her girlfriend’s breasts and caresses her hands swiftly up Lily’s sides. Lily shivers and Ola thinks it’s the cold getting to her after all, but when she raises her head to check in, Lily’s eyelids are drooping with pleasure. So Ola continues to touch her. And Lily continues to unravel their tale.

She recounts the rushing of a meteor shower as smoothly as if she was up there when it happened, half an hour ago. Ola matches her pace with her mouth, skimming kisses down her ribcage. Lily’s imagination turns her own bellybutton into the deep crater of a moon which the ship sets down to explore. (Lily is very kinky about her bellybutton being probed by Ola’s tongue, and Ola’s not going to leave that out, even if they are going in a different direction than usual.)

Progressing, Ola hooks her fingers into the waist of Lily’s leggings and, undistracted, Lily makes the story sound like something she’s reading out of a book—the spaceship setting a course that will take it beyond the most distant line humankind has ever drawn in the universe, farther than it’s ever been before. For Ola, touching Lily below her navel is far from uncharted territory. And yet, she’s sort of enjoying the dramatics.

Lily keeps the story fertile with details another storyteller would make dull (spaceship maintenance, the sleep schedule of the crew), but which grow like lush, otherworldly flora coming from her. The human interest side of things accompanies Ola’s descent as she strips the leggings down. Although they only get as far as the top of Lily’s boots, the leggings are stretchy enough to let her girlfriend part her knees so Ola can kiss lower.

A little lower.

Barely.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ola says with a laugh, raising an apologetic hand to interrupt her girlfriend.

“I do think I might be cold if I take everything off completely.”

“Well… hmm…”

While Ola’s still appraising the situation, Lily’s face lights up with epiphany. Legs locked stiffly together, she raises them into the air. Ola climbs off of her to see what she’s up to.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to stay like that?” Ola questions, watching her girlfriend’s legs waver at a 45-degree angle to the ground.

“I won’t need to if you crawl underneath!”

Thank goodness Lily isn’t shy with her. Instead, it’s funny for them both when Ola moves down to lie on her stomach. Lily parts her legs enough to hook the half-lowered leggings behind Ola’s head, Ola’s face poking between her thighs. Lily lowers her legs back down until they rest on Ola’s shoulders and, basically, they’re in business. Holding happily to the top of her girlfriend’s naked thighs, Ola peruses Lily’s body admiringly before ducking her head.

“The nebula,” her girlfriend breathes, as Ola’s kisses near the soft nest of Lily’s pubic hair. The boundary’s been made unnatural by the squiggly shape Lily’s attempted to shave into it (something Ola might have called silly before her resolution of open-mindedness), and Lily uses that as fuel for the plot, making the spaceship’s journey treacherous, full of objects to navigate around. In reality, Ola pecks a straight line down to Lily’s cunt. Honestly, she’s relieved at the extra evidence—beyond Lily’s expression, her readiness to undress out-of-doors, and the quick pants that’ve become part of her breathing pattern—that Lily’s into this.

Ola wraps her arms farther around the top of Lily’s thighs until she’s able to brush her fingers between them, thumbing her girlfriend’s labia apart. Gosh, they haven’t done this in weeks, which is ages for them. The last vulva Ola saw was iced onto the top of a cupcake.

With Lily held open, Ola licks deftly between her legs with the tip of her tongue. Her girlfriend’s voice trembles. When Ola’s worked her way inward until she’s ringing just inside Lily’s vagina, Lily’s hand comes down and lands on the top of her head. She doesn’t really want it there though, isn’t being forceful. Ola understands this reaction, a common one from her girlfriend when she’s being eaten out, and frees one hand, blindly offering it up. Lily links their fingers together. Their joined hands fall next to her hip.

“Closer,” Lily gasps, arousal seeping slowly over and under Ola’s tongue. Her other hand slips down Ola’s neck and into the back of her top where she’s warm, almost sweaty, with the heat of being turned on. “They’re getting closer to the star.”

The commitment to the story, every time, is something Ola loves about her.

And so she indulges her girlfriend, sliding her tongue higher, easing a finger into Lily’s vagina to perform an unhurried in-and-out while her mouth closes in on her clitoris. Ola’s own clit is desperate for a fingering, blood pumping strongly towards her groin inside her baggy jeans, but she can wait, get Lily off first. Whenever they pleasure each other in that order, Lily always comes alive after, flipping Ola onto her back and smothering her in enthusiastic kisses and caresses.

Picturing this as the likely near-future, Ola hums blissfully against Lily’s clit (Lily squirms and lets out one of her moans that sound like a ghostly wail—yeah, Ola kind of loves those too). She closes her eyes to intensify the sensations and does the rest by familiar feel.

Her girlfriend babbles now, about the spaceship orbiting the new star that’s forming while Ola teasingly orbits her clit with her tongue. It takes a lot of effort to separate Lily from one of her stories when she’s on a roll, but broad, firm licks to her clit are enough to pull even Ola’s one-foot-in-outer-space girlfriend into the present moment.

“Oh god, Ola, I can almost see the cosmic angels,” Lily whines, striving exquisitely towards climax. “I’m going to see cosmic angels.”

Ola believes her. She believed this hill was special, she will believe in aliens, and right now she believes that Lily’s imminent orgasm looks like a flock of cosmic angels behind her eyelids. Sure. Why not? Her hand clasps harder to her girlfriend’s. She doesn’t care that Lily’s rerouted to the fantastical right at the end. They’re real. The elements that got them here are real: Lily’s storytelling, Ola’s desire to feel close to her in a world that wasn’t only Lily’s, loneliness, love.

Without speaking very loudly, Ola knows her voice will carry to her girlfriend’s ears—this evening, silver and pointed.

“Glenoxi,” she groans rapturously against Lily’s clit.

Lily’s hips buck once, then her body buckles, fingers twisting with Ola’s. Her voice rises brokenly into the night and Ola is on fire with how much she wants her.

Ola wipes her mouth on the blanket while Lily catches her breath. She quit moving her finger when her girlfriend clenched around it and came, but now she begins to hook it shallowly inside Lily’s sopping channel, coaxing her.

“You wanna again?” Ola asks, grinning between planting gentle kisses on Lily’s inner thigh.

“Yes,” Lily sighs. She twitches their joined hands. “But come up here beside me so I can take your jeans off. I want—”

There’s a snapping sound and Ola jerks her head up as much as she can in her current position. Under a hundred feet from them, someone’s standing, raising the chunky green glowstick they must’ve just found, dropped in the grass by an Eighth attendee, and cracked. The person turns, looks their way. Freezes. They won’t be able to see everything in the dark. Not everything, but enough. Ola hears a noise of surprise.

“Um,” she says, thinking quickly. Louder, she calls to the accidental intruder: “The aliens just beamed down this human woman! Quick! Go find a scientist!”

The person spins and runs in the opposite direction, back over the crest of the hill.

Ola looks down at Lily, who stares curiously back.

“Do you think they��ve gone to find a scientist?”

“No,” Ola yelps giddily, “I think they’ve gone to call the police because they’ve just seen two people fucking on a public hillside.”

“Are you sure they’ll think that? Your cover was rather good.”

“Thanks,” Ola says, extricating herself from between her girlfriend’s legs, “but yes! We’ve got to go!”

They scramble to their feet, Lily yanking her leggings back up. There isn’t time to fuss with the rest of her costume, so she snatches it up, clutching it to her chest along with the sign she brought. Once Ola’s grabbed their candle and gathered the blanket into a sloppy bundle in her arms, they sprint for the road and onward to Lily’s house.

The glow of the candle and Lily’s cape, reflecting it, are streaks of light in the black.

A blaze of brightness and joy. Their own two-person audience of believers.

[thechangeling]

Eutony in a whisper

Genderbent kitty!!!! Thank you so much to El for letting me use her username.

Tiberia Blackthorn had grown up constantly having her boundaries violated to the point where she was trained to expect it. Right from a very young age people were always demanding things of her and her body. Telling her to hug people, be polite, make eye contact, eat your dinner without complaining, no matter how terrible the sensation of cooked vegetables is. Be nice. Put on a smile.

So Ty adapted, she learned to control herself in public and suppress her urges. The urge to move her hands, and tap and spin around or rock back and forth. She still did those things sometimes, but less so, and never in public. Ty had the tendency to be quite blunt and harsh with people, and her parents were absolutely not a fan. In fact most people weren't.

"You're so aggressive," was the comment she got the most. Right along with, "act like a lady!" Which wasn't fair because she was usually right in these situations. She was only being honest, but everyone seemed so afraid of the truth. So utterly unwilling to listen to anything she had to say.

After awhile she had just gotten used to it. So when people came to take things from her, she let it happen. Because it was polite. And when people touched her she let it happen because that's what she was supposed to do. Livvy tried to help Ty with boundries. Tried to teach her how to say no when men put their hands all over her. But Ty was so used to always having to say yes. And she didnt want to be rude.

So after years of, "you have to" and, "you'll get used to it," when Katherine (Kit) Herondale came blazing into her life and told her with such an easy going sincerity that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. Ty had honestly felt like she could cry.

Fast forward four years and they were in Kit's bedroom at Ciernworth and her 19th birthday had just passed. Kit was trying to master her first heir powers with no luck. Tessa had told her to try and focus on something that might work as a catalyst for her powers. Usually it had to be something that would trigger strong emotions, but nothing was working.

"I give up," Kit cried out, flopping back onto her giant bed, her blond curls spilling out around her. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm hopeless. There's no point." Ty fought the urge to reach for her. To stroke her hair, or touch that small sliver of bare skin on Kit's stomach from where her shirt was riding up.

"Don't say that!" Ty protested. "You've done it before remember?" Kit gave her a solemn look and Ty thought of the events that had taken place before Kit had made the riders disappear.

But things were different now. They had made up, and now they were dating. But the wounds would probably always be there.

Ty decided to reach over and touch Kit's face slightly. Instantly she stopped tensing up. "It'll be ok. I promise," Ty said softly. "You're more capable then you realize. I believe in you."

Kit stared at her, gaping a little. Her big blue eyes were filled with not only surprise, but overwhelming adoration. Kieran had once called Kit's eyes the colour of an ordinary sky, but Ty disagreed. They were the most beautiful baby blue colour. Soft and calming. Not too bright or overwhelming.

Ty smiled involuntarily, sliding her fingers through Kit's hair. "I don't believe in anything except you." Kit let out a harsh breath and gazed up at Ty with a soft, worshiping look. She smiled.

"Baby I just don't know what to do," Kit whispered. She looked a little scared. "I feel like I've tried everything." She squeezed Ty's free hand.

"I'm really scared," Kit admitted.

Ty was overwhelmed with a frightening intensity of emotions. She wanted to wrap Kit up in her arms and never let her leave. She wanted to go out and kill every single person or thing on the earth that was making her so afraid.

Ty shook her head feverishly. "Dont be scared," she said firmly. "I will protect you." Kit looked a little shocked at that, but then she broke out into a grin. She smiled at Ty like she was the greatest and most beautiful thing Kit had ever seen.

"Hey I know something we haven't tried yet." Kit smirked mischievously. She slid her arms carefully up Ty's sides and gripped her arms, pulling her down slowly.

"Kiss me," she murmered. Ty felt her heart do a flip as she instinctively brought their mouths together in a soft, slow kiss that rapidly became more passionate as Kit pulled Ty on top of her. Ty continued kissing her girlfriend as she placed her hands on Kit's and pushed them down, closer to the skin so that Kit was gripping her more tightly. Satisfied with the pressure, Ty weaved her fingers through Kit's long golden curly hair, stimming with the thick, rough peices.

Kit deepened the kiss and instantly Ty felt metal against her tounge from Kit's piercing. It was a weird sensation, but she could bear it. Ty dug her fingers into the blanket on the bed and felt the fabric. Kit was scratching slightly along her lower back, pulling at Ty's shirt. Ty moaned into her mouth before slowly breaking the kiss and leaning back.

"I dont think anything's happening love," Ty said apologetically. Kit pouted adorably. She looked Ty up and down slyly.

"Well theres only one way to be sure right?" She asked innocently. Ty rolled her eyes fondly and laughed

"If you wanted to make out with me all you had to do was tell me," she pointed out. Ty bopped Kit's nose lightly and Kit squished up her face. She brushed the hair out of Ty's face carefully. Ty avoided Kit's gaze.

"Are you ok?"

Ty was fiddling with the bed cover in her hand. "No it's fine. I was just getting a little overwhelmed." She lay her head down carefully against Kit's chest, breathing deep.

Kit pressed her face to the top of Ty's head, nuzzling her. "Say your words," she suggested. "Your favourite words."

Ty smiled at the fact that Kit still remembered. "I added some new ones."

Kit pressed a kiss to her head. "I wanna hear them if that's ok." Ty could hear the steady sound of her heart beating.

"Glass, twin, apple, stars, crystal, lilt, shadow," Ty stopped and looked up at Kit, staring into her piercing blue eyes.

"Whisper."

Kit looked like she was trying not to cry. "Whisper would be one of mine too." She quoted. Ty grinned and bent down to kiss Kit on the cheek.

"Mine," she whispered in Kit's ear. Kit shivered underneath her, gasping.

"That's one of your new words?" Her voice was shakey as Ty pressed a kiss to her pulse point.

"Yeah. One of them. Along with sister, remember and forever," Ty avoided Kit's gaze slightly. Kit squeezed her arm.

Ty shook her head, shaking herself out of thoughts of Livvy. They had finally found a spell to put things right and let her rest. It had been excruciatingly painful, letting her go for good. But Ty knew it was right. She had already caused too much damage.

"I'm fine," she reassured Kit. She traced the outline of her lips. "I also have another one. Wanna hear it?"

Kit's eyes shone as she kissed Ty's fingers. "Tell me."

Ty leaned over her, pressing their foreheads together. Ty's long dark hair fell like an ebony curtain, shielding their faces.

She closed her eyes, letting her emotions wash over her.

"Kit," she breathed.

"Yeah?" Kit answered, clearly puzzled.

Ty laughed, drawing away. "No. I mean Kit is one of my words," she explained.

An unreadable expression fell over Kit's face before she smiled in awe. "Really? One of your favourite words?" She seemed taken aback.

Ty reached for her, gently pushing a lock of blond hair out of her face. "My absolute favorite," she whispered.

"It's my favorite word in the whole world."

Kit made some sort of indescribable sound and grabbed at Ty's shirt, pulling her forward. "I love you so much," she whispered, pulling her into a brusing kiss.

As Ty kissed her back, framing Kit's face with her hands, a burst of light exploded, shining so bright Ty could see it through her closed eyelids.

She frantically broke the kiss and opened her eyes, completely unprepared for what she was about to see.

Kit was glowing.

@bedspells @ti-bae-rius @zfoxdraws @anxiousbookenthusiast @dianasarrow @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @waterlillies @thelandunderthehilll @doitforthecarstairs @banesbitch @talia-lightwood @jazzkaurtheglorious @flynnsupremacy @adoravel-fenomeno

[wordstrings]

of sleep-warm skin and love requited

Written and submitted by @delicategoblin:

OK IM OFFICIALLY TERRIFIED BUT IVE EDITED THE ABSOLUTE SHIT OUT OF THIS AND I CANT FIND ANYTHING ELSE TO CHANGE SO UHHHHH HERE WE GO. uhhhh you don’t need to anonymize it I’m g with having my actual blog on here i’m just ,,, f r e a k i n g o u t . thank you again for this opportunity though cause i never would have done this otherwise,,,,also it’s kinda cringe i know but i’m fragile ok i needed the Bois being soft

Publisher’s note: The first official fic of I Fixed/Fic’d It: A Supernatural Fluffsgiving Event! I absolutely love this and it’s exactly what my heart needed.

Words: 1,700

—

of sleep-warm skin and love requited

Soft puffs of warm air blew onto his chest, it blew the fine hairs that grew there against their follicles. It was an annoying, tickling sensation that made it feel like there was a bug crawling on him. He didn’t move, though, or adjust the sleeping hunter in his arms. It served as a grounding sensation, a reminder that the warm body lying next to him was just that; warm, breathing, alive.

“I c’n feel you look’n at me weird.” Dean’s sleepy voice cut through the gentle silence that hung around them. One sleepy green eye cracked open and he shifted, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s bare torso tighter and burying his nose into his sternum.

“I was admiring you,” Castiel protested indignantly and smiled at the muffled embarrassed noise Dean made against him.

“Less admiring, more sleeping.” He grumbled, and pressed a placating kiss to Cas’s throat. Castiel let out a contented hum and let his fingers glide up Dean’s muscled back, feather-light, and up to the nape of his neck.

“Quit it.” Dean shuddered and fell back onto the mattress with a bleary-eyed glare. Castiel shifted onto his side and smoothed his thumb over the crease in Dean’s forehead that resulted from his affronted expression. Dean didn’t comply with his silent request, and it was Cas’s turn to frown. He leaned down and pressed a tiny chaste kiss to the wrinkle, Dean just shied away and huffed.

“Dean,” Castiel squinted at the stubborn man beside him, who stuck his tongue out and made a point to draw his eyebrows even further - the crease became more prominent. Cas could almost laugh, but this was a challenge. A challenge he didn’t intend to back down from.

“Cas,” He mocked, pulling a face.

Oh, so that’s how it was.

Gears in Castiel’s head were turning, but before they could even quite slot into place, he was on top of Dean, pinning him to the mattress with his weight. Dean’s eyes widened, no longer half-shut with the remnants of sleep, and he sucked in a breath. Pupils blown wide, and Castiel grinned. Dean had a very wrong idea of what was about to happen.

“Dean, you’re very stubborn.”

Dean smirked and waggled his eyebrows, before quickly returning to his previous expression, complete with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Castiel hummed as if he were deep in thought, tracing his index finger from Dean’s collarbone to his sternum. Dean cringed and pushed himself back into the mattress.

“Me? Well, I’m going to knock you down a peg or two, in a manner of speaking.” Castiel purred, resting all ten of his fingertips on his ribs, a salacious grin on his face.

“You, on the other hand,” He continued, gliding his hands down to rest at Dean’s sides. “You’re going to smile for me.”

Dean barely had time to swallow nervously before his senses were set alight by tingling, buzzing electricity. He bit his lip and squirmed, grappling with Castiel’s flitting hands.

“C-Cas, c-c’moHAH. Nonono, c’mohon man, this shit’s for kIDS.” His voice raised an octave when the ex-angel who was enjoying this way too much dug his infuriatingly skilled fingers into his tummy.

It took less than three minutes for Dean to be lost to laughter, punctured by the occasional ‘No!’ or ‘Cas!’ and things that were definitely not shrieks when his attacker got to a bad spot.

Cas, the bastard, was watching him with a big stupid smile on his face. It was so wide and genuine Dean couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad when he caught glimpses of his face amidst his thrashing.

“Cas! Cas, it’s like 4 am, stoho- nahaha CAHAHAS NOT THERE, YOUSONUVABIHIHITCH.” Dean cackled and threw his head back with laughter as Castiel’s hands shot into his armpits, he convulsed and clamped his arms down as hard as he could. Nothing could deter Cas’s determined digits.

When Dean’s breathing started sounding labored, Castiel retreated his hands and took to scritching at Dean’s lower belly. Tickling there, just above his waist-band, was the closest thing to giggling he thought Dean Winchester was capable of. His other hand, bored and itching to roam the squirming body beneath him, cupped Dean’s other side and stroked the skin there. There was another layer of squirming away added to Dean’s half-hearted struggle.

“Caaaas, quihihit playing with my chubby spots.” He whined through bubbling laughter. It was innocent enough, but Castiel knew this man well enough to tell the difference between a joke and genuine insecurity.

Castiel pursed his lips and abandoned his tickling, leaning forward to kiss the panting, red-faced mess. Dean was enthusiastic, cupping the back of Castiel’s head, meeting his kiss sloppily with an open mouth and obscene smacking sounds.

When Castiel pulled away, Dean’s hand kept him there; their faces just inches apart, noses brushing.

“You’re the single most beautiful creature in all of creation, Dean Winchester. Inside and out.” Castiel said firmly, cupping Dean’s jaw reverently and looking into his lover’s wide eyes. A faint blush dusted Dean’s cheeks and he dropped his gaze, shrugging, and grumbling. Cas used his hand to nudge Dean’s face back up and pressed kiss after kiss to Dean’s face. His forehead, each eyelid, his nose, his top, and bottom lip, and his chin.

“I’ve seen stars born,” Castiel murmured against his jaw, pressing another kiss to the stubbled skin.

“Galaxies formed,” Another kiss, this time to his neck, then his collarbone, then his sternum.

“Supernovas,” His chest, right over his heart.

“I witnessed the creation of the very first life forms,” His ribs.

“I’m older than time, older than this world, than the universe.” His diaphragm, his stomach, his hip.

“It’s you, Dean. Nothing I’ve ever seen, ever experienced, could ever hold a candle to you. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

Dean sat completely still, watching Cas with twinkling eyes, he swallowed thickly and made to sit up, Cas climbed off him and Dean leaned forward, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

“You mean that?” He whispered, taking Castiel’s hand and fiddling with his fingers. Castiel smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head, nodding.

“Yes, Dean. I mean it.”

Castiel could hear the quiver in his breath when Dean inhaled deeply.

“That’s pretty gay, man.” He said shakily, pulling away from Castiel with a wobbly smile on his face.

“That it is. I’d venture to say what I’m about to say is gayer, though; I think your smile is especially beautiful. And your laugh.” Castiel added with a sly smile. Dean was quicker on the uptake, though, and before Cas could follow through on his plan, he found himself pinned to the mattress. Staring down a disgruntled Dean, who wasted no time in reaching behind him and kneading Castiel’s thighs.

He howled with laughter and grabbed blindly at Dean’s arms.

“DEAN! DEAN, STOHOHOP!” He bucked underneath the grinning man.

“You started it! And you were about to ambush me again.” He feigned offense, his words spoken around a laugh. His hands converged on Cas’s ribs and dug into the giggle-shriek-inducing spots between each bone.

Expertly, Dean took Castiel apart. Fingers seasoned with years of big-brother experience. His goal was to just tire Cas out to the point he wouldn’t be able to re-retaliate. Ten fingers scribbled across his belly and Cas was lost to giggles that Dean would never tire of hearing.

“Deheheannn, nahaha I’m sohOHORY!” He barely managed around an honest to god squeal that left his mouth when one of Dean’s curious fingers wiggled into his bellybutton.

“See, I just don’t think that’s true.” Dean tutted.

He could have continued on forever, sweet laughter and adorable attempts at an escape or a plea. But, now that Cas was human and oxygen was kind of a necessity, he made the mature decision (what can he say, falling in love changed him) to stop. He pulled away with a parting raspberry to the side of Cas’s neck, which made him shriek and jackknife under him.

“I didn’t bring you back from super hell just so you could tickle the shit out of me, you know,” Dean said, poking his hip. Cas flinched and rubbed a hand over his face, residual giggles still tumbling out of his mouth. He sighed and parted his fingers, peering up at Dean.

“Why did you bring me back, then?” He challenged. Dean glared down at him, but his gaze held no heat. Maybe some exasperation.

“You know why.”

Castiel pulled his hands away from his face and shrugged innocently.

“I don’t, actually.”

“I told you,” Dean huffed. Don’t ask why he was allowing himself to be swept up into Cas’s little game - maybe he liked it. Or maybe he felt guilty still.

“You told me lots of things - through wailing sobs, so it was hard to understand at times. Here; I’ll even make it easy for you. I love you…”

“I know,” Dean replied in a mocking, honeyed tone as he flopped back onto the mattress, pointedly shutting his eyes. Castiel let out a long-suffering sigh and lay back next to him, body curved around Dean’s; a perfect fit, like pieces of a puzzle slotting together. It was a shame Dean was being too much of a man-baby for Castiel to properly enjoy their compatibility and closeness at the moment.

“You’re impossible,” Cas murmured into the skin of Dean’s shoulder, reaching over to pinch at Dean’s waist. He curled away with a squeak that made Cas’s heart swell and grabbed his hands.

“No more tickling,” He pouted. The other man smiled fondly and pressed a kiss to Dean’s temple.

“No more tickling.” He agreed, nodding solemnly.

Then it was quiet again, peaceful. The soft sounds of Dean’s breaths were in sync with his own - the feeling of his heart beating was still alien to him, even though it wasn’t something he noted often.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said quietly, fingering a mindless pattern on Castiel’s bicep, “I do. Love you, I mean.”

Castiel smiled and pressed his thumb gently into the give of Dean’s thigh, reveling in the softness, the warmth.

“I know.”

[secondhand-trash]

Doctor, doctor

A/N: hello I’m here to provide Natsuo porn and not tag my natsuo loving friends in it out of petty revenge

Pairing: Todoroki Natsuo x reader

Description: You were feeling funny, so you looked for help from your trusty doctor.

Warning: is this roleplay idk but doctor references (I said this every time there’s anything medical related in my porn but all the respect to the medical workers out there please don’t take this too seriously qwq), fingering, vaginal penetration

Word count: 2384

-

“Doctor, I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh?” Natsuo looked up at you as your honey sweet voice rang in his ears. You sounded so innocent, so much worry lacing your words that he knew something was up the moment he heard the door being pushed open.

You were leaning against the frame of the door, your waist curving as your arms stretched out. He could not help but let his eyes wander around your form. You were wearing the flimsy silk robe he got you, the one with the lace trimmings by the edge and tying snugly around your waist. The pale fabric did very little to hide what was underneath, pebbled peaks pressing against the soft silk and leaving his imagination ran wild. 

Always a good girl, making his job easy by wearing something easy to take off.

He sat back against his chair, eyes glimmering with interest as you sauntered over to him and settled on his lap. Your bare legs hiking up as they crossed and making the robe shift. You smiled when his large palm found its way to the small of your back.

“And how exactly are you not feeling well?” He asked, sounding so serious but you could feel his control slowly faltering when you arched your back so that your tits were pressed up against his firm chest. 

“Well...” you said, pretending like you were really thinking hard about his question and pouting a little, biting the bottom of your lips as you looked up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ve been feeling so hot recently.”

“Hot?” He questioned, his other hand inching towards the soft flesh of your thigh.

“Yes,” your breath hitched a little when you felt the cold pad of his fingers tracing along the exposed skin of where your leg and hips connected, “it’s like my skin is burning up so badly.”

You could see the swell on his throat bobbed when you took his hand in yours and placing it firmly against the mound of your breast, squeezing it so that he was groping you properly. “It’s especially bad here,” you said as you gripped his hand and fondled your chest, letting him feel it beneath his fingers. He could feel the hardened tip of your nipple even on top of the fabric and the thought of you being so needy for him had his blood boiling. 

“and here.” your voice was breathy as you slid his hand downwards until it was sitting at the slit of the robe. His eyebrow quirked up when he felt the warm skin underneath. You were not wearing anything under that, sly little thing. He could in and just slip inside of you just like that if he wanted to, but he pushed the thought of taking you right then and there away. He would play your little game if that was what you wanted.

“It burns so bad it almost hurts,” you said, almost like a sigh as he rubbed small circles on your hips, “especially when I’m not touching it.”

You batted your eyes, shoulders shrugging so the robe slid off of you and pooled around your arms. The swell of your breast right in front of his eyes as you made a show to press your arms together. “Doctor, can you make it stop?”

“Oh this is a very serious issue you have here,” he tilted his head, trying his best to contain the grin that was about to break out at how you threw yourself at him just like that, “I might have to give you a more... thorough check up in order to know how I can help you.”

You whelped when he lifted your up, one arm hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back. The tie at your waist was near loosened at he stood up, the thin silk providing little to no use in covering any of the glory underneath. 

You whimpered when he laid you on your back against the hard wood surface of his desk. Sturdy and grand, one of the few things he splurged on when buying furniture for the house was this lovely mahogany desk, and he was forever happy about the purchase especially with how lovely the pale silk looked in contrast with the dark wood. He undid your robe, feeling the painful ache of his cock straining against his pants when he drank in your naked body all laid out for him. He had no shame when he eyed you from head to toe, taking in every soft bump and sharp edge like a predator observing its feast. You were so delicate, so vulnerable as you spread yourself for his inspection, he could devour you until you were just a broken mess under him. 

But for now he would control himself, for he had a job to do.

“Let’s start from...” he said, danger dripping from his voice and you felt shivered down your core at how the octave of his voice dropped, he eyes dark with lust as he stepped closer to you.  Your back arched off the table when his finger traced your collar bone. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, “now stay still, we can’t get this done with your squirming like that.” The authority in his eyes made you whine as you tried to hold back the urge to beg for just a little bit of contact.

“Let’s start from,” he leaned down as he said, his hand on your waist as his lips hovered over your sensitive bud. Your nipples were already hard and sensitive from the silk rubbing against it earlier and now with his hot breath fanning against it, you could practically feel yourself leaking onto the wood surface. A choked moan slipped from your lips when he swirled the tip of his tongue around one of them. “here.”

“My, my,” he said in forged astonishment as he took the tip into his mouth, licking and nibbling as he pinned you underneath him, “you’re so sensitive on here." Emphasizing his words with a pinch on the neglected side of your breast, he chuckled at your neediness but quickly put his act back on. “I’m gonna need to pay attention to these more.”

It took you all of your might to stop yourself from bucking into his touch when he moved to the other side, lips lingering on the side of your flesh as his hand kneaded you. “Such beautiful tits,” he said as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, "perfect to hold, just right to suck on...”

He reached down to palm himself as you moaned at the praise. “Tell doctor how it feels,” he pulled back, smirking when you immediately whined at the lost of contact, “does it make you feel good here?”

“Yes! Yes doctor,” he groaned at how obedient you are, your hands clawing at the smooth wood beneath you, “it feels so good.”

“So good at following instructions...” he whispered against the valley of your breast. Goosebumps rose on your skin as he pressed featherlight kisses along your stomach all the way down until his jaw was leaning against the spot right above your legs. 

You shook when his thumb pulled back the hood of your clit and pressed a soft kiss on the little bud.

“Is this where the ache comes from?”

You nodded abruptly, earning you a rumbled laugh from your doctor. The vibration from the back of his throat made your toes curled. 

“Do you need doctor to take a good look at this needy pussy?”

His crude words made you melt, and you could not care less about anything other than the need for him to just give you what you want. “Yes,” you stuttered when you felt a lean finger tracing your folds, your slick arousal only growing as he toyed with the mess he made, “please doctor...”

A loud moan echoed in the study when he slid in two digits without warning, the lewd noises of squelching rang by your ears as he slowly stretched you out with his thick, long fingers. You could feel the permanent knuckle as he curled it against your velvety walls, scissoring inside of you in an agonising pace.

“Look how easily it slips in,” he said matter-of-factly, the nonchalant tone he used as he pumped his fingers in you somehow made you want him even more, “you must need this very, very badly huh?”

None of your miniatures could escape his intense stare. Your rigid breaths, the muscle on your arm spasming as he dragged his finger along your insides, soft moans from your parted lips. He took it all in, remembering it in his head as he thought of the most appropriate diagnosis for your little problem.

“I think we need to look at this more carefully just so I won’t miss any... symptoms,” he pursed his lips as he wiggled the digits inside of you, feeling your wetness coating him and the clench of your pussy around the fingers, “tell me when the spot is right, ok?”

How could he sound so calm, so... professional when you were already a heaving mess. You yelped when he crooked his finger as you didn’t respond.

“What do you need to say?”

You were nearly breathless and he could see the rise and fall of your chest perfectly. “Yes doctor.”

“Good.” Your hands desperately searched for leverage as his finger found its way to the depth of your core, your knees bucking up involuntarily at the chills that it sent up your body. But that was yet to be the reaction he was looking for.

“Is this it?”

“N- no...” you said, your voice but a whimper. 

He clicked his tongue, the pad of his finger pressing against your walls. He knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get you to fall apart, but it would not be a good check up if he didn’t explore every inch.

“What about this?”

“Deeper...”

“Deeper?” He chuckled in amusement. The sudden hook of his digit within you sent a jolt of electricity down your spine when it brushed against the spongy spot that made your sense mingled together.

“Here!” You squealed, hips snapping up out of reflex as the numbing wave of pleasure traveled all the way down your body.

“Oh, look at you.” He sounded almost concerned when he pulled his fingers out of your cunt completely. A sharp mewl left your throat at the sudden lost of friction. He licked off the clear liquid on his hand, making a show to release it with a pop as he tasted your arousal. “Your situation is way more dire than I thought it would be.”

The sound of belt buckle rattling lit up your senses, and you could feel yourself throb in anticipation as you pulled down his pants to release his aching cock. It had been painfully hard with his patience in taking his time with you, the tip an angry shade of red and dripping pre-cum as he rubbed it along your folds. 

“We’re gonna have to give you a strong and effective cure,” he said, teasing your slit and collecting your juices, “something that can reach deep inside you...”

You moaned when he pushed just a little bit of his length in, watching as he threw his head back when he was eloped with your warmth. “Injected in your body so that you will get every drop of it...”

You mewled when he pushed you up and placed a firm kiss on your lips, pushing just a little bit deeper but not enough. 

“What do you have to say?”

“Please doctor-”

Your gripped his shoulder as a sharp moan was ripped from your throat the moment he pushed all the way in. Your body shook with each hard thrust of his hips and it was like even the strong table he had you on was shaking from his frantic movements too. You hooked your legs around his waist, trying to get him to hit you at an even deeper angle. 

His hands were everywhere as he hilted in you, your hips almost lifted off the surface to his liking as he salvaged you as he pleased. Your hands were clawing at his back, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt tensed up with each flex of his arms together with the snaps of his pelvis. 

His name was a mantra on your lips, you whimpered and moaned your god doctor’s name as he relieved you of the ache that was burning inside you. He was always here to take care of every need you had, giving you just the right treatment you so desperately needed. 

You could feel him twitch inside of you, your walls clenching at the sensation as he pushed you over the edge. His hands were rough as he gripped you by the saw and pulled your close. The force of his kiss bruising as he swallowed your moans. You were seeing white when thick spurts of his cum splattered your walls, his thrusts getting sloppy as he rode out his high.

You were putty in his hands as he clutched you close. He was still warm inside of you, and your legs that were already sore and weak still clutch around him as you felt the stickiness being pushed out of you.

Slowly pulling away, he watched as your pussy clenched from the emptiness. You whined when he pushed the leaking cum back inside, the dull ache vivid and unable to be pushed away.

“Now, you gotta keep all of it in.” He said, a small smile tucking at his lips as he leaned down. “Or else it will not work.”

“I can just come to you for another dose if I need it again.” You muttered, resting your face on his broad shoulder.

He chuckled, “Be careful now, we don’t want to get you addicted.”

He stared at intent when you reached down to collect a bit of his cum that was pooling inside of you. You were grinning from ear to ear when you looked at him in the eye while making a show to swirl your tongue around the white liquid at your finger tip.

“Too late.”

[olivinesea]

Off Souls, pt. 3

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: We’re back. Things are still serious but maybe not as rough? Let’s call it soft-anxiety. This part and the next were supposed to be one but it got out of hand. So stick with me for a few more feelings and I promise there will be a little action soon. ~3.7k

Some problem solving.

There was no miraculous recovery to their friendship. Things remained tense between the two of them. Emily was on edge for obvious reasons and he still wasn’t sure where he stood with her. The split had shaken his trust more than he wanted to admit. Still, he knew he needed to be there for her. Despite her best efforts he saw how delicate she was right now. He saw her tensing in crowds, grinding her teeth whenever someone brushed past her, hanging back ever so slightly as they entered buildings. He was familiar with all these little grasps at safety. He could have made a list without a second thought. They were all things he had seen his mother do, things he had felt himself doing. Emily was scared and she wasn’t sure when that danger would reappear.

He did what he could, staying close and being mindful about the spaces they went to. He first realized he needed to be more cautious after they tried to go to the dining hall during the midday rush hours. Emily didn’t eat anything. She spent her whole time stiff, searching the faces of the other diners. She had been worried about running into him ever since the first time he had appeared unexpectedly. Now she had to worry about Hotch, too. She distinctly did not want Hotch to know his identity. He was unable to mask his fury whenever the topic surfaced. She knew nothing good would come of their meeting. She appreciated that he wanted to fight for her but what she really wanted was for this to never have happened. Hotch getting involved, bringing some sort of vigilante justice to him, made it much harder to pretend.

Plus she didn’t want him getting in trouble over her. She knew how hard he worked to keep his clean record, his scholarship contingent on high grades and good behavior. In a less concrete way she also knew what it would mean for Hotch’s relationship with his parents if he were to find himself in trouble. He was evasive but had slipped up enough for her to have a rough picture of the Hotchner household. It wasn’t all so so different from her own, she thought. Opposite sides of the same coin perhaps—love that didn’t exist within normal boundaries, too present or too distant. The lonely place in her heart hollowed by frosty absence, his carved out with a heated knife. She didn’t want to be the catalyst for any conflict there.

That first day he found her she had been unable to discuss options. Far too overwhelmed by her current reality, she waved him off when he tried to bring it up and curled into herself in a way that made him kick himself for asking. A couple of days later while they were walking back to the dorms he tried to tactfully broach the subject again only to be surprised by her short reply.

“I’m going in Friday.”

“Oh, ok. Good. That’s good?”

She looked at him, squinting slightly. “Yes? Are you surprised?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, of course not.”

“What? Did you think I wasn’t going to get an abortion? That I was going to have a fucking baby?” She stopped and rounded on him, growing angrier with each word.

He stopped also, but carefully backed up to the side of the path, pulling her gently with him. He dropped his hand when she snatched her arm away. “No. You just didn’t seem like you knew what you wanted to do before. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it before you decided.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, not sure how he had offended her. He spoke through his fingers.“I know, Emily. I just want to be there for you. For whatever you need.”

He looked up and she was glaring at him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he offered.

She wanted to stay mad. The anger felt good even though she knew it was a little misplaced. She remembered how she had imagined he would look at her once he knew. She hadn’t let herself hope for understanding. She didn’t want to admit it to herself but having him back in her life had been a huge relief. She didn’t have the words to properly express to him what it meant to her that he was there. That he hadn’t hesitated to hold her close, hadn’t questioned or abandoned her.

Now she was acting ungrateful, lashing out at him when he was only trying to help. She had worried he might second guess her decision, have some moral hang up bred of his conservative upbringing. She hadn’t wanted to involve him in this step, didn’t want to need help. She was afraid to discover a limit to the grace he’d given her. She hugged her arms around herself and nodded, feeling too awkward to look at him directly.

“Please.”

“Then I’ll be there,” he said simply and started walking again. She followed a half step behind.

The time between that conversation and Thursday dilated uncomfortably. Every moment she was aware of what was happening inside her: cells collecting and dividing, a slow, sinister act of creation. She knew she couldn’t literally feel what was happening but her skin crawled with the knowledge. If she let herself think about it, it would consume her. Frozen by the thought it felt like hours before she she could move again, only to find just moments had passed. She could only keep track of the passing time by the different foods that were available in the dining hall. Waffles, it must be morning; stir fry, evening again. She followed Hotch around and he led her to class, to eat, back home again.

She looked up from her plate, still filled with untouched potatoes and greens. He was looking at her and she knew he’d asked her a question but she didn't know what it was. She thought she remembered him asking if she wanted more water, though that could have been during a different meal or a dream.

“Yes,” she said, faking confidence.

He stared at her blankly.

“Sounds good.” She hoped she wasn't agreeing to anything serious.

His stare became somewhat anxious.

“I have no idea what you said,” she admitted reluctantly as she looked at her full water glass.

He exhaled sharply, everything still too bleak to laugh. “What time do we need to be at the clinic tomorrow?”

Was it tomorrow already? For her it had been weeks since yesterday and yet only this morning that had been the Tuesday before last.

He waited for her to answer, watching the wheels turning slowly, gears mismatched and stuttering. She pressed her thumb hard against the sharp end of her fork, trying to pull up the relevant information.

“Noon. The appointment is at noon.”

He reached out and touched her hand gently. “Okay.”

They left early to walk to the clinic. Rather than use the campus health center and risk detection by her mother, she found a local clinic about a twenty minute walk from campus. Their walk was quiet, both attempting to appear more stable than they felt. She was eager to be done with this whole experience. He was not sure what to expect, everything about it still a mystery to him. Too uncomfortable to ask questions, he hoped his presence would be enough. As they approached the low cement building, she slipped her hand into his. Only slightly surprised, he squeezed her fingers softly.

They went inside and were struck by the quiet. There were people sitting in about half the chairs, mostly young women. Everyone looked similarly focused, no one spoke unnecessarily. Emily walked up to the counter and gave her name and appointment information. The receptionist was kind, smiling patiently as she stumbled over her words. Once checked-in she was given a clipboard of forms to fill out. She turned to find Hotch still standing awkwardly by the door. She eyed a couple empty chairs between them and nodded to them with her chin. They met at the corner seats and she dropped her bag onto the floor beside the chair as she sat down. He sat a little more reluctantly, still scanning the waiting room.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

She was focused on filling in birthday and address and didn’t register what he said.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted me to go up there with you or…” he trailed off. He hated that he was so nervous. He had waited in dozens of rooms like this before, many far more chaotic than this. It was tense in here but it was also hopeful. He stopped looking around and dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. He traced a nail with his thumb, feeling all the bumps and edges.

She looked over at him, saw the apprehension shadowing his eyes. “I’m going to be ok,” she promised. She was not yet convinced of this but it felt good to say.

He nodded. “I know that. It’s just—“ he swallowed. This was no time to be bringing out his own problems. Regardless of what he wanted though, he could feel his stomach tightening, a conditioned response to the danger presented by medical offices. He hated doctors with their cold gloved fingers pressing into fresh wounds, only to act surprised when he shrank away from the pain. It was always harder to lie when they confused him like that, the sensations blocking out thought. His well-practiced story would seem to slip out of his mind and his mother would look at him, terrified, as he grasped at the correct details. Waiting rooms were not his favorite place to be by a long shot.

She was too involved with her paperwork to notice how he’d retreated into himself. After skipping the section on insurance (it’d be much easier to hide a couple hundred dollars pulled out of her checking account than a claim for abortion on the statements her mother received), she’d come to a form asking more specific questions about her body. She was trying to count back weeks in her mind but kept getting tripped up. She pulled out her phone to look at the calendar and her heart sank when she confirmed the number she had been hoping was a mistake. Had it really been two months? She’d lost so much time.

She finished filling out what she could of the forms and leaned back into the vinyl chair. She did feel more calm now that she was here. The anticipation had been difficult but now all the pieces were in place. She’d gotten herself here, now she could just follow along with the rest of the ride. She leaned her head onto Hotch’s shoulder. Absently he turned his face towards her and kissed the top of her head. His only reflexive act of affection, he had done that to soothe Sean more times than he could count. He had never done it to Emily, however. She closed her eyes and smiled, again thanking the universe that she had somehow earned a friend like him. They waited for her name to be called.

Though she was expecting it, hearing her name still made her jump a little. They both stood up and turned towards the nurse.

“That’s me,” her voice sounded squeaky, unable to get enough air into her lungs.

The woman smiled sympathetically. “I’m afraid your friend will have to wait out here. We can bring him into the recovery room as soon as your done though. Is that going to be ok?”

Emily and Hotch looked at each other, exchanging silent messages. They had known this was probably how it would happen. She didn’t really want him to see her like that anyway. But still, it was hard to let go when she had been spending the past week relying on him to keep herself standing. He knew she would be taken care of but he still didn’t want to let her disappear into the back hallways and exam rooms of the clinic. In his mind the building stretched out infinitely, hallways becoming mazes, folding and twisting into inescapable loops. Once she was beyond that door he wouldn’t be able to get to her quickly; once she was out of his sight, he couldn’t make sure she was safe. What if she needed him and he wasn’t there again?

She settled on a quick hug. “I’ll see you on the other side.” She was trying to be light but it came out sounding grave.

He nodded. “I’ll see you soon, Em.”

She followed the nurse through the door and he returned to one of the stiff chairs, this time deliberately choosing one with a view of both doors. He looked at his watch. It had already been more than an hour. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to be but he figured he could safely assume it wouldn’t be quick. He’d brought a book because the thought of flipping through waiting room magazines made him uneasy. He opened to the scrap of paper he’d been using as a bookmark and stared at the page. His mind refused to focus as he read and reread the same three paragraphs.

Eventually he gave up and leaned his head back against the wall behind him, narrowing his eyes but never fully closing them. No one paid attention to him, everyone there was too tangled in their own personal dramas. He started making lists in his head: adjectives starting with each letter of the alphabet, working backwards from Z, animals that migrated, the different license plates he had memorized. The last one had begun as a way to drown out the fighting as his family traveled to and from his grandparents’ house several hours out of town. He would try to remember each license plate that passed, whispering them to himself in a long string of letters and numbers, an incantation to prevent disaster. It was never clear whether it was ineffective or if his definition of disaster was too small.

Emily was led to an exam room. The nurse checked over her forms, following up on some pieces of information she hadn’t properly addressed. The nurse explained how the procedure was going to work, how the anesthesia was likely to make her feel and what she could expect in the following days. Emily nodded when she was supposed to, affirming that her decision was hers alone. She made fists with her hands to stop from picking at her nails, determined to appear calm and in control. The nurse gently patted her shoulder before she left, promising that the doctor would be in as soon as possible.

As soon as possible wasn’t all that soon it turned out. After sitting nervously at attention for twenty minutes, Emily laid down on her side on the exam table. The white paper crinkled beneath her as she tried to find a good position. She kept an eye on the door, alert to any sound or movement coming from its direction. She didn’t want to be caught sleeping, already feeling far too vulnerable in this place. She stared at the white paint of the door for so long that she started to see shapes floating on its surface. They grew and melted and she was mesmerized by it until suddenly the door swung towards her. She sat up quickly, trying to look as if she had been upright the whole time, but the creased paper gave her away.

This time there were several people that entered. She got more considerate smiles as she was introduced to the doctor, the anesthesiologist, the nurse from before. Again she stayed quiet, just nodding when it was appropriate and wondering what Hotch was doing out in the waiting room. There was more explanation of what was about to happen and she shifted uncomfortably, partly wishing that she didn’t need to know quite so much detail.

Finally things got started. It was not a pleasant position to be in and she second guessed her decision not to choose the at home option. Her dorm room just hadn’t seemed like the best place to try to go through something like this. The promise of a quick procedure, in, out and on with her life had landed her here. In a cold white room, outnumbered by people in white coats and sterile gloves. She felt her heart rate picking up, panic threatening to overpower her. She felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned her head to see the nurse smiling at her.

“You’re doing great.”

Emily closed her eyes. The anesthesia started to work and she felt herself begin to drift. When she opened her eyes the nurse was still there, still smiling at her. She had said something but Emily hadn’t registered it.

“All done,” she repeated.

“Oh,” was all Emily could say. She thought she had only blinked a little long. But sure enough she saw the doctor straightening up the different medical detritus on the counter. The anesthesiologist was busily wrapping up some tubing.

“Let’s get you dressed and over to the recovery room.”

“Is Hotch there?” Emily felt a sudden pang of worry. What if he had left, had decided she was too much trouble after all?

The nurse looked confused for a moment then realized what she was asking. “If you have someone waiting for you we can bring them back once you’re settled.”

Frowning, Emily accepted that answer. If she had someone waiting. Did she? The drugs were making her mind hazy. She remembered coming in with Hotch but she also remembered him being upset. Had he been upset with her? It was hard to be sure when it felt like all her recent memories had been shuffled like a deck of cards.

She let the nurse guide her to another room down the hallway. This room was softer, lacking the metallic equipment and raised exam table. Instead there were a couple arm chairs and one particularly soft looking couch. A side table held individually wrapped snacks and tea bags. Without invitation, Emily dropped onto the couch, leaning heavily against the arm and enjoying the pressure of the cushions behind her.

The nurse asked her if she wanted something to drink but Emily only looked at her with glazed eyes.

“Where’s Hotch?” She did her best not to sound desperate but there was a tremble in her voice she couldn’t contain.

“Ok, I’ll go get him. But think about having something to eat and drink. It’ll help.”

Emily nodded to show she would obey and the nurse left her, closing the door quietly. Emily leaned further into the couch, she was feeling a little nauseous and the colors around her appeared upsettingly bright. She closed her eyes and tucked her face into her arm. She completely forgot about eating or drinking anything.

As the nurse walked Hotch to the recovery room, she listed advice on how to take care of Emily. “She’s going to be tired and probably a little confused for the next couple hours. It’s best to just relax, watch a movie, nothing too strenuous. Make sure she eats and drinks plenty of water. We’re sending home some painkillers if she needs them.”

They reached the door. “Take as long as you need but she will probably be ready to go in half an hour.” She open the door. “Emily?”

Emily turned her face up from where she’d pressed it into the couch. Her vision was momentarily clouded by black spots that scattered in the sudden change of lighting.

“I’ve brought your friend, Mr. Hotchner. He’s going to sit with you until you’re ready to go. I’ll come back and check on you in a little bit.”

Emily nodded vacantly.

Hotch thanked the nurse as she left and crossed the room to Emily, who was still looking dazed. He crouched down in front of her, one hand on the arm of the couch. He looked closely into her face and she stared back at him with her wide brown eyes. She blinked.

“You’re very pretty Mr. Hotchner.”

He snorted, ducking his head, hair falling across his forehead. She reached out to push it back, running her fingers through it.

“So, so pretty.”

“Alright you,” he said, standing up, trying to hide a smile. “Let’s get something in that drug-addled brain so we can get out of here. What sounds good?”

She sat up and shrugged one shoulder. It didn't matter to her, she was just glad he was here. He grabbed a peppermint teabag from the basket and put together some tea for her. She watched him from her spot on the couch as he considered the snack options. He sat down next to her, pressing the paper cup into her hand and tearing open the package of dark chocolate cookies. She yelped when the boiling water burned her tongue.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, looking genuinely apologetic, as if he had intentionally overheated the water. She just shook her head and tilted her face down into the steam coming from the cup. The smell was soothing even if she couldn't drink it yet. She heard crunching next to her and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Those are supposed to be for me.”

“There’s more,” he defended himself, mouth half full.

She laughed and he felt himself relax. He had been painfully on edge for days, probably weeks. She had been so distressed and he hadn’t known what to do to fix it. He hadn’t been sure how this experience might complicate things further. Too familiar with disappointment, he had prepared to find her still broken, still consumed by grief. But here she was, laughing at him again. It was the thing he loved and had missed most about her. He allowed himself to hope a little. Maybe this was going to work out. Maybe they could get past this and everything would be okay again.

~Part 4~

[ofpackandpride]

Good time

A/N:Takes place post season 6B. Erica, Boyd, Allison, Aiden, Josh and Tracy are all alive in this,  Jackson,Isaac, Ethan and Hayden never left and Kira is returning from training.

Pairing: Derek Hale x Male Reader

Requested by: @softboi-vibes

Derek’s loft became the unofficial official place for pack meetings and the place where a good portion of the pack lived, mainly Derek, his bitten, and the twins. He more or less adopted the chimera pack after he came back and found out about what happened while he was gone and how you and the rest of the chimeras, excluding Hayden, were living in what used to be the Dread Doctors lair.

His loft and life becomes a lot more lively after that.

Now having an oddly domestic life with the teenagers he turned years ago teaching the younger betas and being care-free and messing with each other, the twins that are now trusted packmates instead of the Alphas they fought long ago.

Derek thought it was nice having a large home with lots of people, until he decided not as much so when you’re trying to be romantic and you have teenagers yelling at each other or causing trouble.

After a full week of repeated attempts of trying to surprise you with something romantic that constantly got annihilated by the other pack members, he was ready to scream. First Lydia found a way to get Erica drunk and that was a disaster, then Theo and Malia got into a fight which took Scott to defuse, Mason spraining his ankle while Allison and Chris trained him for being second-in-command for stand in Alpha Liam, Josh had short circuited the school while trying to get a fix and Corey had to sneak him out, Peter made comments on Kanimas which made Tracy and Jackson aggressive towards him. To put it simply, Derek was done with everyone and everything, he just wanted to have a day for the two of you without something happening. So when you walk into the loft to tell Derek that you got Stiles to have Scott take the pack on a vacation he was about to cry in frustration, why couldn’t the two of you just be alone? You saunter over and straddle Derek as he leans back on the sofa “Scott thinks this will be good for packbuilding. Melissa and the Sheriff get a nice dinner date, Peter and Chris can do whatever it is they do together, the teenagers will probably shop around a little and sight see. Stiles and Lydia get what’s happening and are convincing Scott that it’s fine that we are going to stay here.” You explain as you smile down at your boyfriend

You drop your voice down to a whisper as you continue “It’ll be just us and no interruptions, Der.” Leaning down, you press your lips to his and your hands rest on his shoulder, pressing against his front as his hands slide down your sides. “Just one more day, then we get a week of just us.”

——

You were lying underneath Derek on his bed as the two of you made out, his hands riding up your chest to remove your shirt as you broke away and lifted your arms so he could remove it, Derek taking his own shirt off as soon as he got rid of yours.

You feel Derek’s hand tug at your pants as he kisses you again, you put your hand on his as you break the kiss.

You give him a breathless “Wait” and he immediately shoots off of you like a rocket.

“Oh my god, Y/N” Derek says as he looks like he’s torn between running and holding you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  

You sit up and lean forward, silencing him with a reassuring kiss and not moving till he responds by kissing back. “You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t rush me. I just wanted to ask you something.”

Derek nods, still looking like a sad puppy. “Yeah?”

You smile and lean back, pulling him back over you into the position you were in before as you whisper “Be gentle? This is my first time.” against his ear.

Derek tenses from above you, looking down at you with eyebrows raised in shock. “You’re a virgin!?”

You laugh and smile up at him. “Yeah, You’re my first everything. Crush, Date, Kiss, you were my first for all of those.” You tell him as the two of you adjust so he’s on his back and your head is on his chest.

You can feel him the gears turning in his head before he finally asks you “So that time we snuck away during Lydia’s party?”

You nod and give an acknowledging hum. “Yup, ”

You trace patterns on Derek’s stomach and glance down, seeing the tent in his jeans. “No wonder you were so responsive.” He says, causing you to playfully slap his abs.

“It was my first time getting a blowjob, of course I was going to be responsive.”

“Then that time in the Camaro when we were waiting for Stiles?”

“Uh huh, first time giving you a bj”

Derek lets out a quiet ‘fuck’ before he pauses and asks “Then this is?”

You move so you’re on top of Derek and smile down at him. “Me placing my trust in you and hoping you’ll make this night unforgettable” You tell him before leaning down and kissing him, breaking contact just long enough to say. “You don’t have to be gentle”

Derek didn’t need anymore encouragement. He grabs your hair in one clawed hand and puts his mouth to yours, sliding his tongue against yours as his free hand cuts your sweatpants from your waist.

You let out a noise of protest that turns into a moan as you fumble his belt buckle in your hands while he slides sharp nails down your back light enough to only sting before grabbing your ass.

He flips the two of you over and lets go of you just long enough to slide his pants off before hovering over you, one hand searching the nightstand while the other held your face and slid a thumb into your mouth.

You close your eyes as you wrap one hand around yourself, holding his hand with the other, satisfied at the way Derek’s breath hitched when you did that as he retrieved the desired item.

You whine when he moves his hand away, opening your eyes when you hear the click of a cap, annoyance turning into arousal as you watch him put lube on his fingers.

He smirks and leans down, running a fang against your lower lip. You open your mouth for him in a breathy moan and grab his hair when he lightly bites your lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth as a lubed finger teases your hole.

You were about to tell him to hurry up when he slides a finger in, causing you to moan and tighten around his finger, bucking your hips into his.

Derek gives you a little approving grunt and eases in another finger, curling them upwards to hit your prostate. You moan into his mouth as you press back against him, putting your arms around him in an attempt to keep him close as if he’d leave. Sliding a hand down your front, he takes the two of you in his hand and lazily strokes causing you to jump between trying to hump into his hand and press back against his fingers.

Derek murmurs encouraging praise into your ear as he lets go of himself to hold only you, adding in a third finger and pumping them in and out of you slowly, making small thrusts and twirls against your prostate with his fingers.

“Derek, please just fuck me already” You say, trying to sound commanding but only sounding needy and impatient.

He chuckles against your neck and moves off of you with a cheeky grin, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto his length. “Are you ready?” Derek asks you, adjusting positions so your legs were to the sides of his waist and pressed up against him.

“Yeah, Der, please. Please fuck me already” You beg, not caring how you sounded.

Derek nods and lines himself up, grabbing into your hips as he slowly slides into you. Both of you moaning when he enters you, Derek at your tightness and you at the stretched feeling. “Fuck, Y/N. So good for me, so tight” he moans as he presses in a little further

You don’t say anything in reply, moaning loudly as he brushes against your prostate. You put your arms back around him, pulling him down to you to reconnect in a kiss as he begins bottoming out.

Derek pauses once he’s all the way in. “You OK?” you nod quickly and try to move your hips, not succeeding in much as he is holding you still with an iron grip. “I need you to say it for me, how are you feeling?”

“Good, so fucking good. Move, Der. Please, I need you right now. Need you so fuckin’ bad. Don’t wanna be able to walk in the morning.” You blabber, putting your head in the crook of his neck, whining in an attempt to make him start moving. Letting out a little chuckle on how needy and desperate you sound, enjoying how you are already begging for him.

“Slow down there, Baby. Maybe we should start a little slow, I don’t wanna hurt you.” Derek reasons, now knowing this is your first time.

“Don’t care, I’ll heal, need you now” You tell him, holding onto his shoulders.

Derek pauses for a second before responding. “If it hurts, or you’re uncomfortable, say something and I’ll stop. Got it?”

You nod against his neck and give a little mh hm.

“Got it?” Derek asks you again.

You groan into his shoulder. “Yes, Derek! I got it, now fuck me!” you whine, moaning when he slowly pulls himself nearly all the way out and pushes back into you.

“Like that?” Derek taunts, repeating the process in a slow rhythm.

“Fuck, yes. ” You beg, moaning when he pulls back and buries himself in you again.

“So good for me” Derek’s growl reverberates through his chest as he sucks a hickey on to your jaw.

You let out little moans consisting of pleasured little whines, whimpers and ‘Derek’. You can tell he likes when you moan his name, he would make this rumble in his chest or give you a firmer stroke all while keeping his tortuously slow pace.

“Derek, please!” You whine as he sucks a spot on your neck that makes you melt, Derek sliding back into you just as you relaxed, making your hips just and sliding more of him inside of you.

“Please, what? baby boy.” You can hear the smile in Derek’s voice as he talks. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

You were already blushing,this made it even worse “Iwantyoutofuckmeintothemattress.”

Derek’s hips stuttered into a pause as his eyebrows scrunched, replaying what you said in his head. Smiling when he figured it out.

You didn’t like the smile he had on his face, like he was about to do something he shouldn’t.“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear you.”

You repeat what you said, mumbling into your shoulder.

“One more time?”

Groaning, you quickly say “I want you to fuck me into the mattress so hard I can’t walk in the morning!”

Moaning when Derek pulls out and flips you over on to your stomach,  your erection caught between you and the covers as Derek pressed you down into the mattress. “I heard you the first time, just wanted to hear it again” Derek teases you, ignoring your grumble.

Tilting your head up as he presses his muscular chest against your back, teasing your hole by rubbing his tip against it as he nips at your ear. “You sure you want me to be rough? I don’t mind-”

He cuts himself off with a hitched breath when you press back against him, moaning as his tip pushes in to you. “Fuck, Y/N.” Derek groans as you test his self restraint

“Derek, I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll-” You get cut off as Derek slams into you fully, causing you to moan and arch your back against his toned chest.

Derek putting more of his weight on you as he continues with fast, sharp thrusts. “You’ll do what, exactly?” Derek asks from behind you ear, pushing your head into the covers and teething at your throat with a threatening growl.

Caught in the pleasure of Derek hitting all of the right spots inside if you and him marking your neck. Reduced to the blabbering of Derek’s name and begging for more.

“That’s right, you’re so good for me. Go ahead, make some noise. Fuck you’re so hot, Y/N” Derek praises you while he works at your neck, loving the way he can feel you moaning as he marks you up.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, that familiar warmth spreading through you as you fisted the sheets, Derek must have picked up on it since he slid a hand down your front and wrapped a large hand around you.

Moaning loudly when jerks you to the fast pace of his thrusts, moving your hips to try and escape and chase the overwhelming pleasure at the same time. “You close, baby boy? Huh? Gonna cum for me?” Derek gruff voice growls from behind your ear, hips stuttering in their lost rhythm as you tightened around him when you came with a moan of his name.

Derek following you into orgasm moments later, a reverberating rumble sounding from his chest as he presses as far as he can into you, lowering you flat against the bed and pausing his movements as he came inside of you.

You give a pleasure sigh when he lays his weight on you, placing his head into the crook of your neck near the areas he marked only minutes ago, feeling his hairy chest against your back as you are happily trapped against the bed beneath his weight.

“Was that good?” Derek quietly asks, sliding his hands up your arms and holding your hands.

You let out a content hmm as you feel yourself drifting off.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Derek interprets as he listens to your breathing and your heart return to a resting rate.

After a few minutes of content post-orgasmic bliss Derek goes to move off of you, pulling out in the process.

You whine at the loss of his warm body, causing him to chuckle. “I’ll be right back, I’m just starting the bath.”

You reply with a grunt and a weak thumbs up from a hand that never left the bed. A minute later you are being scooped up, immediately resting your against Derek. Being lulled to sleep by the bounce of him walking as he carries you.

“Ok, in you go” Derek says as he begins to maneuver you in a way he can place you into the tub without just dropping you. You let out a whine and press into him more, smiling when he gives you an irritated sigh. “I will drop you” Derek says in a serious tone.

You reply with a quiet “Jerk” as you get into the tub with his help, sighing contentedly when the hot water touches you.

“See? Nice isn’t it” Derek says, easing you into the rest of the way into the tub as you close your eyes.

Replying with a pleased ‘hmm’ you slide down a little farther and say “In.” Derek replies with a confused “Huh?” as you turn to him and open a sleepy eye. “Get in” You tell him as he smiles and gently nudges your back.

You move forward and sit up a little, leaning back against him when you feel his legs slide alongside yours and arms wrap around you.

The two of you adjust positions for a few seconds until you are in a position where Derek is able to clean you off.

Dozing off somewhere after Derek cleaned your hair and started on your body, only waking after he came back in and dried you off after putting new sheets on the bed. Falling straight back asleep as soon as he covered you up.

[whindsor]

the trials of online dating, part 2

hey @witchofinterest you’re still inspiring me btw

Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left-

Mika thought, with all the options available to her, that online dating in NYC would be a breeze. In truth, it didn’t even have to be dating. She just needed friends that weren’t her sister or her sister’s boyfriend.

Swipe left, swipe left, swipe - oh, hold on.

Mika furrowed her brow, glad that the handsome man on the screen couldn’t see the double chin she sported as she curled up on the couch. James Bucky Barnes. She’d heard that name before. Where had she heard it before?

A quick google search reminded her, making her sit up and stare down at her phone. Now when she looked at his picture, she remembered how sad he looked during the trial, how tired he was when he took the stand to talk about all the things that happened to him. TIME magazine ran article after article about the years he lost.

And now he was trying online dating? Good for him.

Mika stared long and hard at the screen. He was cute, and he also probably felt a little misplaced here in New York. Or, this was a fake account, and she would be disappointed. Again.

Hiking. Technology. Reading. Well, they had two out of three things in common.

Fuck it.

She swiped right before she could think too hard about it, going through a few more profiles before deciding that no one was going to strike her interest until she figured this James Bucky Barnes situation out. So she put her phone down and went about her afternoon, baking some bread for the week and cleaning the fridge out. She hated cleaning the fridge out, but since she was currently mooching of her sister in the studio apartment, she needed to do a little extra work.

She wasn’t surprised when her phone dinged later. She was surprised to find that it was James Bucky Barnes, accepting her match.

Interesting.

Her stomach did a flip. She wasn’t cool enough to match with the former Captain America’s best friend, and definitely didn’t expect him to go for the Romanian girl.

Had to be a catfish.

Mika: Is this really Mr. Barnes?

She was going to get to the bottom of this. If he messaged her back, then she could get on the web app and trace his IP address and see where it was registered. She wasn’t positive on the legality of that action, but safety came first. Her phone dinged again. A message!

James: Unfortunately.

The response made her laugh out loud, any thought of tracing his whereabouts fading. A catfish wouldn’t respond like that.

Mika: Deciding to try online dating? You’re becoming a real modern man, James! James: My therapist made me.

Ouch, okay, so maybe he wasn’t into the dating part. Mika was about to switch her tactics when he messaged again.

James: Sorry, that was short. Still getting the hang of this. James: You can call me Bucky. James: If you want.

Mika smiled down at her phone. There was something magical about the guy not caring about sending multiple texts in a row. Any girls she dated didn’t mind it, but men were always wanting to look all stoic. Mika found that the less they talked, the more desperate they were.

Mika: Nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Mika. James: Nice to meet you, Mika. James: I saw you’re from Romania. Have you lived in New York long? Mika: Just a couple months. Moved here after the Blip. James: Oh, I’m sorry. That must be tough. Mika: Could be worse. I’m staying with my baby sister who is now, technically, older than me. Mika: How is it being back here?

Well if he didn’t think she was a creepy stalker, he did now!

James: Weird. So many things are different. James: But even weirder, some things are the same.

When Mika blipped back, it was hard enough to figure out everything that changed in five years. If the TIME articles were correct, Bucky was back in New York after leaving eighty years ago. She couldn’t even imagine how weird everything felt for him. And how lonely he must be.

Mika: So what’s the most important thing for me to check out? Mika: You know, since you’re a true New Yorker.

That was a safe enough topic, right? She hoped so. Centenarian or not, he was the first person to message her that didn’t ask for pictures, and she was in desperate need of someone chill. It took a while for Bucky to respond, long enough that she was utterly convinced that she’d said something wrong.

James: Totonno’s is where we used to go for pizza all the time. If you want good cheesecake, Junior’s is the best. Mika: Oh, I like both of those things!

She paused, hoping that the next message would be him asking her out. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

James: Let me know if you like them. James: If it’s any consolation, they still taste the exact same. Mika: Good to know. I’ve also been on the hunt for a Romanian place. Mika: Know of any? James: Not right off hand, but I can do some research. James: I spent some time there, before the Blip. Mika: Really?? Where?? James: Bucharest. Mika: No shit! I lived there! Mika: I was on the south side, in Rahova. James: …so was I. Mika: What apartments? I was Bloc 70 B.

The dots hovered, then disappeared, then hovered again, then disappeared again. Mika held her breath, but couldn’t maintain it long enough before having to take in a gulp of air. Bucky still didn’t respond. Was that too intimate a question? God, she hated this online thing sometimes.

Finally, her phone lit up again.

James: Did someone send you. Mika: What? No. Mika: I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? Mika: I know they weren’t the fanciest apartments, but…

Another ten agonizing minutes, then,

James: I’m sorry. I lived in those apartments too. James: I get spooked pretty easily nowadays.

Mika let out a huge breath of relief. Okay, good, so she wasn’t some inconsiderate asshole. Her and Bucky just had the weirdest coincidences.

Mika: That’s fair! Mika: How do I know you’re not the one following me?

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

James: I don’t do that anymore. James: That…probably didn’t help my case.

Oh thank God, he was just as awkward as she was. And at least he had the excuses.

Mika: Meh, not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. James: Same. James: Wish I could even say getting blipped was.

Don’t do it, don’t ask it, don’t say it -

Mika: What’s the weirdest thing then?

Fuck.

James: When Steve tripled in size. James: Thought I was hallucinating. Mika: Oh God, I can’t imagine! Mika: It’s weird enough that Nicoletta is a year older now Mika: At least she’s the same size James: Do you have other siblings?

Mika tapped the edge of her phone. She never did figure out how to word this without eliciting a pity party. But hey, Bucky of all people would probably understand.

Mika: We had an older sister. She passed away. James: I’m sorry to hear that. Mika: Thank you. James: My sister passed away about 20 years ago. James: Obviously, I was not there. Mika: Have you visited her grave? James: Yea, in the first couple weeks I was here. James: Will you think I’m an asshole if I say it was anticlimactic? Mika: Not at all. Mika: Last time I visited Raisa I called her a selfish bitch so Mika: You’re in good company

Too much information, that was too much information.

Bucky sent back…a laughing emoji.

James: That’s how you know you were close. James: My mother got mad at me because Rebecca thought her name was “Stupid Baby” for a long time. Mika: Aw, you were much nicer to your sister than I was haha James: Well, it was the ’20’s. James: Things were a little different. Mika: Were you a flapper? Mika: Don’t lie. James: I would never. James: Lie, that is. James: I was definitely a flapper. James: The cutest damn toddler flapper you’d ever see. Mika: Pics or it didn’t happen. James: I don’t know what that means. Mika: It means I want photographic evidence. James: Cameras weren’t invented yet. Sorry.

Man alive, James Bucky Barnes was funny.

They kept going back and forth, attempting a more normal conversation. It was, Mika found, a very nice conversation. He was someone she liked talking to, and he seemed to enjoy talking to her too. Or at least he was really good at faking it. 

“Why are you smiling so much at your phone?” Nicoletta asked later, giving her an odd look from her easel. Her boyfriend had already gone to bed, leaving them to watch whatever they wanted on Netflix. Of course that meant they put on a baking show and proceeded to do anything but watch it.

“Huh? I’m not smiling at my phone.” she said, tucking said phone into her lap.

“Don’t be dumb.” Nicoletta said, brandishing her paint brush like a knife. “Who are you talking to? You better not say-“

“Ew, no, not him.” Mika said, cutting her off before she could utter the name of her ex. “Just…someone I met on HiLove.”

“I thought we talked about those dating apps.”

“I’m lonely! I need friends.” she said. “He passed the background check.”

“Let me see a picture.” Nicoletta said, coming over. Mika sighed, thumbing through the app to find Bucky’s profile, and the one picture he had. She hoped her sister didn’t notice the two unread messages in the corner. “Hmm. Okay, he’s handsome.”

“Yes.” Mika agreed. In fact, he was becoming more handsome as the afternoon went on. “And he’s funny too. And smart.”

“Ok, calm down. You just started talking to him.”

“I know! I’m not like, proposing marriage.” Mika said, rolling her eyes. “I just like talking to him so far. That’s all.”

“Uh huh. I know how it goes with you ‘talking’ to good looking people.”

“About as well as it does with you.” she pointed out. “Pre Steve, of course.”

“Of course.” Nicoletta said. “Have you discussed future plans? Deepest fears? Favorite sexual positions?”

“I hate you.”

“These are important questions!”

“I’m going to bed.”

“No phone sex on the first day!”

“I really hate you!” Mika sang, pulling the curtain around the little area in the studio apartment that counted as her room. It was late, and she probably should go to bed anyways. But Bucky was still up, and they were currently discussing movies. Turned out, he was way behind.

Mika: Star Wars? James: Nope. It’s on the list. Mika: Star Trek? James: Also on the list. Mika: Pride and Prejudice? James: Isn’t that a book? Mika: And a movie! My favorite one. James: Guess I’ll move that to the top of the list then.

Was he…flirting? Mika couldn’t deny the smile on her face now, even as her eyes struggled to stay open. Nicoletta went to bed, and with the light off, staying conscious was becoming a struggle.

Mika: Good answer. James: Ever seen Wizard of Oz? Mika: …no. A little before my time. James: Ouch.

Despite the humor and the fun conversation, she could feel the fatigue setting in. She was so afraid to stop talking, afraid that tomorrow he would change his mind, or find someone cooler than her. But she couldn’t stay up all night anymore, she wasn’t in her 20’s.

Mika: Unfortunately, I think I need to sleep. James: I understand. It is really late.

She paused, tapping the edge of her phone. What was the worst he could say? No?

Mika: Talk to you tomorrow?

Apparently it was his turn to pause, long enough that she nearly fell asleep before her phone buzzed again.

James: I’m looking forward to it. James: Goodnight, Mika. Mika: Goodnight, Bucky.

She went to sleep with a smile.

[unsettledink]

Kinktober Day 14

Flaunt

Prompt: Hair Pulling

Word Count: 4030

Summary: Tony’s been wanting to show Peter off for ages, and Peter knows Tony will make sure everyone treats him right. 

(d/s universe, biting, teasing, SSC kink, subspace, Peter being passed around

it’s a little tricky to tag pairings: Peter/Tony is the actual relationship, and Peter is passed around to Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey. There’s a bit of Tony/Peter/Rhodey and background Sam/Steve/Bucky.)

*

"You've still got Friday night free, right?"

"Of course," Peter says, glancing up at Tony. "Why, are we doing something?"

Tony smiles at him, his hand settling on the back of Peter's neck, fingers just sliding into his hair. "I've got a little party planned," he says. "I think it's far past time for me to show you off."

And there it is, that sharp, squirmy feeling in Peter's stomach, nervous and turned on all mixed together. "Show me off?"

"Yeah," Tony says, curling his fingers in Peter's hair and tugging him back, just barely. "There hasn't really been a chance for anyone to see how good you are, how easily all this comes to you." He tightens his hand, Peter's breath catching. "You're not awkward like this, at my side. Not that I mind it the rest of the time," he adds hastily.

Peter laughs. "I know what you mean, Tony," he says. "Uh— who's going to be there?"

"No one you don't already know," Tony says. "Mostly Avengers, maybe a few others. I don't think Thor will be around, but I can rope Rhodey in for sure. Scott, maybe, though I guess you haven't been around him much."

"Tony," Peter hisses, "that's not better! Ugh, they all know me, yeah but— they've never seen me like that, it's embarrassing."

"Hey, it's okay; they all like you, Peter," Tony says. "They're not going to be weird or judge you, you know that. No one on the team, no one who's worked with you is going to treat you differently just because you're finally getting a sub presentation. They aren't like that, baby."

"But—" Peter says, weakly. He's not really ashamed of being a sub, it's just... they already treat him not quite the same because he's the youngest. And it's different, having anyone see him like that.

"Does anyone treat Steve any different?" Tony asks, and Peter shakes his head. "They're not going to think less of you. I know this. I know you get shy easily, but I promise, I'd make sure you had a good time. And you like being a little embarrassed, don't you." Peter scrunches up his face, but he has to nod.

Tony hesitates, his hand softer, brushing across Peter's scalp. "If you're really bothered," he says, "we don't have to."

Peter thinks about it, trying to shove away that immediate burst of wanting to hide. He does know them all, and he can't think of a safer group for this. And— and he knows Tony wants to have others see him, admire him. He can't help it, just like any other dom.

"No," Peter says, turning his face into Tony's leg. "We can do it." Shivers. "I— I wouldn't mind being shown off."

Tony's 'good boy' is soft, barely a breath, but Peter hears it. He always hears it.

* 

He still falters when the moment comes.

Tony catches it the instant he falls out of step, lags a little too far behind Tony. He just— seeing everyone, knowing everyone is about to see him— his stomach flips and he can feel his face going hot, tight. It's not good form, but he reaches over and clings to Tony's jacket anyway. Tony stops, turns back to him.

"Hey," he says, softly. "Just say the word and we can leave, but— you trust them, right?" Peter nods, because of course he does. He's fought beside all of them, and if he can trust them to watch his back, to catch him if he falls, to keep him safe, surely he can trust them to see him sub.

"Okay," he tells Tony.

Tony steers them over to the group by the big L shaped couch; Natasha, curled up in a chair, Rhodey on one leg of the couch, and Steve and Bucky down at Sam's feet at the other side of it. They seem to be arguing about something, not seriously, and they barely react at first. But they go quiet soon enough when Tony stops and Peter sinks to his knees beside him.

"Finally bringing him out?" Sam says.

"It's overdue," Tony says, "but worth the wait, I'll have you know." He rests his hand on the top of Peter's head, and ahhh, Peter can't look at any of them. He ducks his head, blushing horribly.

Someone laughs; maybe Steve, he thinks. "I didn't think you'd be shy," Steve says. "You sure spend enough time chatting in the middle of missions."

"You're one to talk," Bucky mutters.

"Aw, be nice," Rhodey says. "Look at him, how can you pick at that? You always did go for the sweet ones with a smart mouth," he tells Tony.

"Peter," Natasha says. "Look up. Let us see you."

Tony doesn't make a move to push Peter into it; he never would. Peter raises his head, still keeping his eyes down, and then sighs. This is silly. He's not embarrassed to kneel next to Tony. He's proud of it, that Tony chose him.

"There you go," Natasha says. "Much better."

"Beautiful, sweetheart," Tony says, under his breath like he does when it's just for Peter, and it's a weird feeling to know that most of the others can hear it anyway.

"Think you can keep him occupied for a bit?" Tony asks them. "I have to at least say hi before I get all caught up in him again."

Rhodey snorts. "Like you don't know the answer to that," he says. "Go on, hand him over."

"Honeybear, I know you'll take care of him. But I did tell him he'd have a good time."

"We can manage that too," Steve says, smiling at Peter, and god, Peter feels so— nervous and jittery, that he's about to be passed off like this, given a chance to show off what Tony has. "Guides?"

"Mmm, keep it mostly above the belt?" Tony says. "You can look, touch, lose the clothes, but don't get him off." He tugs Peter's head back, looking down and catching his eye, and they'd talked about this but Peter still feels exposed, even fully dressed. "He likes kissing, likes getting marked up; doesn't mind if it hurts a bit. Well, you know how to handle that sort of enhancement," he adds.

"It never lasts," Steve says, and sighs.

"Not for lack of trying," Sam mutters, and Steve grins at him.

"It's pretty while it lasts," Tony says. He drops his hand to Peter's neck, and Peter shivers. "He likes having his hair played with," Tony says, lower, watching him. "His neck too. He's... sensitive."

He ducks down, pulling Peter up on his knees to kiss him. "I'm sure you'll figure something fun out," he says.

Natasha crooks a finger at Peter as Tony wanders away. “First dibs,” she says. That’s fine with Peter; he shuffles forward on his knees a little awkwardly and ends up between her legs, looking up. She smiles, small but definitely there, and Peter relaxes.

She’s mean.

Ok, maybe not mean, but she teases. She’s delicate with him, carefully running her hands through Peter’s hair, scraping her nails down his neck, lightly enough it almost tickles. Slowly, slowly curls her fingers in his hair and tugs his head back, inch by inch, and leans forward over him and just… stays there, barely any space between their lips but not kissing him. Stays there, like she’s waiting for something, and even though Peter knows it’s too forward, he pushes up a little and goes for it. 

He gets a second of her lips on his, and then her hand tightens painfully, yanking him back. She moves with him though, staying as close as before but no closer, her free hand coming up and raking down his neck, the same path she’d traced so gently. Peter yelps. 

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asks, her breath warm against his lips. He looks at her, uncertain. 

“Yes?” he says.

“I’m waiting,” she says, not giving him any leeway. Peter bites his lip and leans in, pulling against her grip in his hair. Pulling until it hurts, and she’s moving back a little more and more and that’s not fair. He pushes forward, fast, and gets one kiss, soft and warm and really, really nice, before she’s distancing herself again. 

“Come on, Peter,” she says, smirking. 

She tips him back and forth like that, teasing him and making him do the work of hurting himself, pulling against her hold and pushing into her nails and trying desperately for each kiss, and it’s kind of embarrassing that he’s hard. 

He gasps when her grip suddenly eases, letting him fall forward into her lap, tipping his head up and kissing him, long and slow and so hot, until he’s struggling to catch his breath, moaning softly. “Do I have to share?” she says as she pulls back, glancing up behind him. 

There’s a huff, and she must be getting glares from some of them. “Fine,” she says, giving him a little shove towards Steve and Bucky and he almost tips over on the way to them. Steve catches him at the last second, and Bucky huffs. "Not normally clumsy, Peter."

"You've got me all messed up," Peter mutters.

"We haven't even gotten started," Steve tells him, and then Steve's hand is in his hair, pulling him in. It's so much bigger than Natasha's hands, bigger than Tony's, and when he curls his fingers and tugs Peter's hair, Peter gasps softly into his mouth. Steve never pulls hard, but he's really good at turning his hand just so, catching little pieces of hair in a way that makes it sting, sharper than a good yank. He's pretty good at kissing too, but Peter isn't giving that quite as much attention.

Especially not when there's another pair of hands on him, across his shoulders and sliding down his back, catching the edge of his shirt and pulling it up. "Come on, Steve," Bucky says. "You've gotta let go for me to get this off." Steve gives Peter another kiss, softer, another tug, harder, and lets him go. Bucky's got Peter's shirt over his head and off before Peter has a chance to catch his breath, and then his hand is in Peter's hair instead, bending him back to kiss him.

They pass him back and forth between them like that, one of them with a hand in Peter's hair nearly every second, yanking him around and holding him in place when he jerks. Steve kisses him more than anything, his hands all over Peter's chest, teasing his nipples and Peter is so hard. Bucky ends up pulling Peter's hair the most, switching between his metal arm and his real one; Peter can feel the difference, even if he can't see it. The metal one is cooler against his scalp, the plates catching individual hairs and even pulling them out every now and then, making Peter whimper, making his eyes water.

"You really are pretty," Bucky says, right in Peter's ear, and kisses all along his neck. Peter moans, feeling even more sensitive than usual, which is saying a lot. Steve catches Peter's chin, trapping him between their hands, and kisses him.

"They're all watching us," Steve whispers. "All those doms, enjoying the show we're putting on," and Peter shivers. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that," Steve says. "You're a people pleaser, aren't you. You're just the sweetest thing, Peter. Bet you don't give Tony any trouble at all."

Peter starts to giggle at that, that ridiculous thought, right as Bucky yanks his hair hard. "Oh god," Peter gasps, "no, I mean, I am, uh." Bucky kisses his neck, kisses all along his shoulder and Peter tries to catch his breath. "I'm a lot of trouble," he says. "Really am, I don't mean to be but I am."

"I'm not surprised," Rhodey says, and Peter starts. "Tony likes trouble."

Steve snorts, right against Peter's neck. "Yeah, that's true." He glances up, bumping Sam's leg. "He's not the only one."

"You've got that right," Sam says. "Or I wouldn't have been crazy and taken on both of you. Here, let me have a go at him. You've had your fun."

Peter's starting to feel a little out of it; not super, not drifty, but not really all there either, and it takes a minute for him to figure out where they're trying to put him, laughing at his clumsiness. It's nice laughing though, Steve tossling his hair once he gets Peter situated on Sam's lap, Bucky kissing his shoulder before he drops back down against Steve.

Sam's got him kneeling over him, straddling his lap; even settled all the way on him, Peter's looking down at Sam. "Hi," Peter says, feeling a little shy again. He still doesn't know Sam quite as well, and he seems sharper sometimes.

"Hi," Sam says back, and he's barely holding back a laugh. "I'll give it to Tony, you are cute." Peter scrunches up his face; he haaaates being called cute. "No?" Sam says.

"Don't wanna be cute," Peter mutters. "I'm not like, little or delicate or soft."

"No, you're not, are you," Sam says. He scratches his nails against Peter's scalp, this amazing, awful sensation, and then he tugs Peter down, Peter's hands braced against the back of the couch.

Presses his mouth to Peter's neck and bites.

"Omigod," Peter gasps. "Oh, fuck!" It's not a soft, nice little bite; it hurts, Sam's teeth hard against his skin. He sucks at that spot, pressing his tongue to it, teasing it, and Peter starts squirming despite himself. Sam's hand tightens in Peter's hair, and when he finally pulls back Peter's whining.

He jerks when Sam presses his thumb to that spot, tender. "Not delicate," he says. "But you are sensitive; Tony was right about that. More than either of them, that's for sure."

Sam's hand tightens more, pulling Peter's head back further, further, arching his back. Peter yelps when Sam bites him again, just as hard even if it doesn't last long, and then again, and again, working across his shoulder. He's panting when Sam stops, letting Peter's head fall forward.

"How quick do they fade?" he asks, and Peter has to take a moment before he can answer.

"Uh," he says, "mostly— mostly gone in about a day? If they're really dark. The lighter ones don't even last half a day anymore."

"Mmm," Sam hums. "Well, I've got some practice in keeping special little things like you marked up. It's a good thing you don't mind hurting some."

He's as good as his word, biting and sucking all over Peter's neck, hard, deep bites that make Peter sob and jerk and hurt. He'd hide his face against Sam if he could, but Sam keeps Peter' head pulled back, his hand firm and tight in Peter's hair, holding him in place. Peter shudders, so turned on he can hardly stand it; he feels like his whole neck must be one giant mass of purple and red marks, layered over each other. He yanks harder against Sam's grip at the next bite, his hips snapping forward.

"Looks like he really likes the hurting," Natasha says, and Peter can feel himself blushing again.

Sam pulls back, looks at him. "Aw," he says, "look at how red you are," and he tugs Peter's face around, until everyone can see. Peter whines, closing his eyes. "Think you can rut a little without getting off?" Peter nods, as much as he can with Sam holding his head. Tony's worked hard on that with him, and Peter has gotten so good at holding back.

"Good," Sam says, and this time he tugs Peter forward instead, tucking his face into the curve of Sam's neck, grabbing his waist and pulling him in closer. "Go on then," Sam says, and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into Peter's shoulder, his hand twisting in Peter's hair. Peter groans and then he's rubbing up against Sam, not nearly enough pressure, just enough to keep him trying for more, his cock thrusting along Sam's stomach. He can feel Sam's cock too, hard right against his, but he can't do much more than grind down onto it as he rocks.

It all feels so good, Sam’s hand in his hair, his mouth on Peter’s neck, his thigh as Peter rubs against it— too good, too soon. “Wait,” Peter gasps, “wait, wait.”

Sam yanks him back by his hair, hard, and that’s so not helpful actually, even if it pulls Peter’s dick away from any contact. “Don’t,” Sam says, “you don’t want to let Tony down.”

Peter shudders, getting control of himself; he can do it, he knows he can, Tony’s trained him on this so much. “I won’t,” he whispers, “I don’t, I never let him down.” Sam laughs, but it’s not mean.

“He tell you that?” Sam asks.

All the time, Peter thinks, and he’s starting to believe it. He nods.

“Of course he does,” Rhodey says. “He means it too. Hand him over, Sam, you’ve had your turn.”

“Oh, fine,” Sam says, and helps Peter get his leg over him, Peter feeling clumsy, almost weak. Gives him a slap on the ass as he starts to move away and Peter squeaks. 

He crawls across the corner of the couch towards Rhodey, settling back on his heels next to him, and he’s more nervous about Rhodey than anyone. It’s not that he doesn’t know Rhodey, like with Sam, but— Rhodey’s special; Tony might not say it but he totally takes Rhodey’s opinions seriously. 

He wants to impress Rhodey.

Rhodey slides his hand up Peter’s neck into his hair, pulling his head back. “You know Tony adores you, kid,” he says, very softly, and Peter feels his face heat. “You’ve been making him happier than I’ve seen in a while.”

“I’m trying,” Peter whispers. 

“You’re doing good,” Rhodey says, and that feels so good to hear, like a burst of warmth spreading from his chest. If Rhodey thinks that—

Rhodey pulls him down then, turning Peter’s head as he goes, his hand not too tight in Peter’s hair. Keeps pulling him past the point where Peter overbalances and almost faceplants in Rhodey’s lap, but it seems like that’s what Rhodey actually wants, because he doesn’t stop until Peter’s cheek is resting on his thigh. 

He runs a hand down Peter’s back, pressing at him. “Stretch out,” he says. “Get comfy; I’m keeping you here awhile.” 

It isn’t like with the others, the way Rhodey plays with him. He doesn’t know how to describe it, really. Sort of— not sexual at all, but it still is, when Rhodey’s hand drops down, his thumb brushing across Peter’s lips, sometimes sliding his other hand down to squeeze Peter’s ass. It’s almost like Peter’s an afterthought, the way he keeps Peter’s head pinned to his thigh and pets him, threading his fingers through Peter’s hair gently, softly, little scratches sometimes. Lulls him into this drifty, dreamy state where Peter isn’t thinking about anything other than Rhodey’s touch.

Almost an afterthought as Rhodey talks with the others, words Peter can’t even make sense of right now, but he’s not, it doesn’t feel like that at all. Especially not when Rhodey tightens his grip, not pulling Peter anywhere, just twisting up his hair and hurting. Peter presses his face into Rhodey’s leg and gasps, whimpers every time, his fingers digging in as well; when it goes on, he starts thrashing a little, unable to help himself. 

He doesn’t really want to break free, but he can’t stay still.

It hurts, it hurts and Peter likes it, every single second. 

Rhodey soothes him again after each harsh yank, back to that soft, slow petting until Peter’s barely keeping his eyes open, nestled against Rhodey’s leg. Drags him back and forth between soft and harsh and there’s no rhythm to it that Peter can figure out, that he wants to figure out. He can feel himself starting to drift a bit, starting to get distant and quiet in the back of his head, losing hold of all his thoughts. 

He doesn’t even start when he feels another hand slide into his hair alongside Rhodey’s, when it pulls him upward. Peter blinks, things coming back into focus, and oh, it’s Tony, Tony’s back, crouched next to him and smiling. 

“Having fun, sweetheart?” he says. 

Peter’s not very good at words right now, but he can nod, relishing the tiny points of pain as it tugs his hair in their hands. Tony smiles a little bigger and glances up at Rhodey. “Has he been good?”

“More than,” Rhodey says. “It’s pretty obvious why you’ve gotten so attached to him.”

“Mmm,” Tony says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a dream like this, but Peter’s more than something pretty to sit at my feet and you know it.”

“Did you really think I was just talking about that?”

The look Tony gives Rhodey is so close to the ones he gives Peter sometimes, soft and fond and like he’s had something go right. “Of course not, honeybear.” He glances around at the others; “Anyone mind if I give him a treat?”

Peter guesses the answer is no, because Tony’s standing up, flipping Peter over onto his back and settling down by his legs. “Wanna hold him?” Tony asks Rhodey. “It won’t keep him still, but it’s fun to watch him fight it.”

“Love to,” Rhodey says, and then his hands are back in Peter’s hair, pulling his head further into Rhodey’s lap until he can’t see Tony, can’t do anything but look up at Rhodey. 

Tony’s hands hook into the waist of Peter’s pants, and he jerks against Rhodey’s hands for a moment, trying to look down; Rhodey tightens his grip, leans down and kisses him. 

He’s still sighing into Rhodey’s mouth when Tony licks up the length of his dick, his lips closing over the tip. “Oh god,” Peter moans, “Tony, please.” 

Peter had already been pretty out of it when Tony came back, already wound up and just existing, no thoughts and no worries, nothing but want and feeling and response. He’d already been awfully close to flying, and this— this drops him over the edge, completely. 

Some part of his head is aware of the way he’s thrusting up into Tony’s mouth, Tony taking it happily, drooling around him; is aware that Peter’s tossing his head back and forth, fighting against Rhodey’s tight grip on his hair, only making it worse with every yank. Is even a little aware that the others must be watching him, watching them, watching just like Rhodey’s looking down at him, Tony looking up, their gaze so heavy on Peter he can feel it, just like he can feel everything, every touch and every texture and every single spot his body is in contact with anything. Can feel everything, too much, overwhelming, amazing, and he doesn’t know if it’s that, or the pain of Rhodey’s grasp, or the wave crashing down on him as he comes that have him crying. Maybe it’s all of them, or maybe it’s just that he’s wanted like this, kept and held and wanted. 

Rhodey kisses him, gently, and Tony crawls up over him; kisses Rhodey and kisses Peter and Peter could stay just like this forever. He can see Tony’s mouth moving, talking to him, then Rhodey, then him again, but his head is full of nothing but static, white noise.

Tony gathers him up then, Peter not helping even a little, closing his eyes. He just lets Tony shift him around until Peter’s kneeling over one of his thighs, tucked up against him and his head buried in Tony’s neck. Tony hooks his arm around Peter’s shoulder, his hand resting on Peter’s head, and keeps him there. Keeps slowly dragging his fingers through Peter’s hair, across his scalp, soft unending touches that keep Peter in that quiet space in his head. Tony’s talking with the others, gesturing big enough with his other hand that Peter can feel it, but it’s all just noise to Peter. 

He nuzzles into Tony’s skin and lets Tony keep him safe.

[peakyblinders1919]

First Time

This was so not like her. Drinking, dancing, flirting, beaded fringe shaking as she moved loosely around the bar.

Loose. Her dress was tight around the top in a way that was fashion-forward, modern, and the least bit risque, but loose at the knees, a shorter hemline then she was used to. Loose hips as she danced due to the peer pressure of her friend. Loose lips, singing to the melody, gossiping about the other BA secretaries. Loose morals (that doesn’t require much of an explanation, though her eyes were wondering).

She didn’t know what it was about him that drew her to him because it wasn’t just one thing, it was everything; the way smoke curled from his pink lips, his mousy brown hair gelled perfectly into place, his freckles like glitter in the dim light, green wandering eyes like her own, and an indiscernible air about him that suggested he owned the world so people ought to bow down to him. Through whispers and giggles she was informed of his real identity; Michael Gray of Shelby Company Limited and the air of confidence made sense. Normally she’d shake in her boots at just the sight of him, cheeks flushed when she was under his stare but tonight they locked eyes across the bar and she felt compelled to talk to him, all thanks to those damn loose lips.

And every innocent women knew where talking led you; apparently for her it was her bedroom. She’d never had a boy in the house, much less her bedroom, and before she knew it he was lying in bed on top of her. She knew nothing about him  besides his name, his profession, and that his favorite color was maroon, and began to wonder if maybe she ought to know a bit more about the man who was going to take her virginity.

“Wait-“ her hand shook slightly as she pressed it against his chest, surprised at how built it felt, blushing as he cocked an eyebrow down at her. 

“Is everything ok?” The moment was ruined now as he sat back and she noticed a shift in him that he didn’t want this anymore. But she did. She couldn’t believe it herself but she did, she just didn’t know what to do, where to put her hands, maybe back on his chiseled chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I just… maybe we should… I don’t know? Talk first?” The laugh that escaped her lips then suggested even she knew it was a funny suggestion. No one wanted to talk before it.

His words confirming it, “What is there to talk about?”, though maybe it was more of a sincere question. She could only hope.

“Uh, I’m a virgin Michael.” She had blurted the words out and just like that his night had changed. He knew she’d be a bit of fun when he saw her across the bar, all the other wondering eyes of men like Michael hungrily watching her dance. He didn’t know why she’d landed on him but he considered himself lucky, especially when she walked over. Though it may be shallow to admit, he was prepared for an outstanding one-night stand with no strings attached, one less lonely night shared with a beautiful girl.

But now he was the womanizer taking her virginity, laying on top of her as she trembled and blushed like a schoolgirl at his touch (though he found it endearing at the same time).

“Oh.” He didn’t know how else to react, fumbling foolishly to sit beside her. It was clear he was uncomfortable now, his tell the rubbing of the back of his neck. Painfully silent as they both figured out what to say, they locked eyes again. “Well…” he began. “Yeah, we can talk. I’ll tell you everything I’m going to do, unless you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. That’ll… that’ll be good.” She smiled, the words surprising even herself. She had no idea what had come over her, where she’d gotten this sudden boost of confidence, although hands shook as he began touching her again.

“Ok,” he smiled. This was new to him as well, but a nagging feeling in his gut told him to make it work. Usually he shut up and did the deed, fast and sloppily, not caring about the woman who’s hips he held while he got himself off. Now there was pressure on him to be good, an immense amount of pressure to treat her right and take his time or be labeled the man who took her virginity *and* was bad at it. He barely knew her and still he wanted her to have good memories of this. Now he was sweating, licking his lips as he looked at her. “Well… uh… I’m going to kiss you now,” he said quietly, like a whisper. He watched her nod in approvement, leaning forward and slipping a peice of hair behind her ear. He pulled her close as a hand rested on her jaw.

His lips were like berries on a summer day; sweet, warm, and wet. She feared she wouldn’t know what to do at first but it was second nature, lips pressed firmly against him. They moved in sync, her wrapping her arms around his neck. She was already hot, her heart beat racing when he moved a hand to her thigh.

“Is… that ok?” Feverish nod on her part. Quickly she felt his skin on hers, his hand on her thigh, brushing the silk of her frantic up slightly. 

“I’m going to kiss your neck… I want you.” He trailed kisses from her lips, down her jaw, onto her neck as she started sucking a love bite against her delicate skin. 

Her feelings were overtaking her, her head thrown back in pleasure and a low moan escaping from the back of her throat before she could stop it. She didn’t know if this was normal, sitting there and not doing anything back, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment though what was there to be embarrassed by? He was submitting into his pleasure as well, and maybe he even liked hearing her moan. 

She slowly reached forward, hands grazing his sides over the soft frantic of his shirt. “Go ahead,” he reassured her against her throat, pressing featherlight kisses there and suddenly she had slipped her hands up under the cotton, hands tracing up and down his side, gripping him closer. 

“Can I?” He asked as he locked eyes with her, his hand racing’s circles on her thigh as he looked at the fabric, rolling it further up her thighs till it looked at her waist, playing with the beads to kill time until she agreed. “Don’t, you’ve got not reason for that.” Once her dress was pooling on the floor she squirmed amid her own nakedness, trying to cover parts of her with limbs. “You’re beautiful.” 

And she felt like it, laid there for the first time allowing someone to see her so intimately, intricate lace patterns against skin, him drinking in the sight of her.

“Take it off.” She nodded as she bit her bottom lip, taking fistfuls of his shirt and shimmying it off him, a hand running down over his chest. “Lay back. I want to kiss you, touch you…” 

She did as he commanded, getting comfortable as he leaned down to press a deep kiss against her lips. He rubbed her leg, his other hand creeping up her side and she couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan lightly in pleasure. She knew what was next.

“Can I-“

“Yes, yes please. I want you. I do.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he assured her, taking it slow as he pushed himself inside of her little by little. “Is that ok?”

She was surprised by everything that was happening, her eyes watering and yet after a few minutes she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. 

Hands wrapped around his neck, she pulled him close as he began to move slowly, calculated, making sure he was hitting the right spot but also not enough to hurt her or anything. She kissed him hungrily, not caring if she was doing anything right or wrong. All she wanted was him, nails taking down his back as she kissed him, things slipping into his mouth, their lips moving in sync as he continued thrusting until she felt a tingling all the way in her toes. They’re bodies pressed together, chest to chest, lips to lips, she never let close to a stranger and she absolutely loved it.

This wasn’t a one night stand; it was love at first sight.

[stayextrafrosty]

I’m Dying for a Taste of You: Chapter 4

Chapter Title: We Made a Deal With the Devil

Chapter summary: Michael takes Alex back to the place they met. They run in old vampires from Michael’s past

A/N: I went back and forth about how to do this chapter. But I settled on something different. Michael/Alex/Forrest. This will be a one chapter thing so don't fret too much. But this was a fun challenge for me! I hope you like even if it's not strictly Malex.

Kinks explored: Threesome dynamics, double anal penetration, exhibitionism

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

Alex bounced his leg in the passenger seat of Michael’s truck. Why had he agreed to this? Michael had a grin plastered on his face ever since he had gotten him changed. He had bought him a whole outfit for the blood ball. And even that might be too generous.

Alex was exposed more than he had ever been. Even if all the important parts were covered. He had never dressed like this while around other people. Hell, he never wore this stuff for former boyfriends in private. But Michael had asked. And the looks he was giving him warmed his skin.

He was wrapped up in a black leather harness. The straps wrapped around his neck like a collar and ran down the center of his chest before wrapping under his arms to his back. A triangle surrounded each peck like a bra would and more straps crisscrossed around his abs and back until they disappeared under the jeans he was wearing. They wrapped around his legs like a garter, accenting the scrap of fabric Michael had insisted was underwear even though it only covered his member.

Alex shifted in his seat and shivered, the rough fabric of the jeans rubbing over him. He could ditch the pants but it was something he had insisted on to preserve modesty. Michael had pouted but still said he could wear whatever made him feel comfortable. He had asked Michael if he kept any make-up. He was given a small cosmetic bag and used the eyeliner. Just like he used to in high school.

Michael on the other hand was a walking sex symbol. His jeans were a black and looked like leather though they weren’t. Alex often found himself focusing on the fact that he was most definitely not wearing anything under them. He wore a tight corset vest made with real brown leather trim and a black silk cotton mix for the rest. His chest hair peeking out and muscles rippling with every move must have come straight from a wet dream Alex would have had in high school. Or even now.

Michael glanced at him and smirked. Busted. Alex didn’t stop staring, waiting for the streetlights above them to illuminate the beautiful man. His curls were perfectly tousled from Alex’s hands when he had jumped him just before they left. All he wanted was to rip the clips open and run his mouth over every inch of him.

“I’d like to at least make it into the building, Manes. But if you keep looking at me like that, I might have to change our plans.” His cock jumped at the suggestion. He just grinned.

“You know I wouldn’t mind that.” Michael’s hands gripped the steering wheel and Alex drooled as the muscles through his arms tensed.

They pulled into the parking lot of the same ballroom looking building as the last week. Michael took a deep breath, looking up at the name scrawled above the doors. Sacrificial. Alex wondered how often random clubbers tried to get in not knowing exactly what it was. There were bouncers for a reason. Michael took his hand, pulling his attention back to him.

“You trust me right?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. But why?” Michael swallowed and opened the console that separated them. He pulled a bag out and there was a faint clinking. Alex’s eyes widened at the chain leash he held in his hand. He looked between Michael and the chain. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You want to try it? I won’t make you wear it if you hate it.” Alex nodded slowly. He didn’t miss the small smile that settled on Michael’s lips. He leaned over and tugged at the collar of the harness. Alex leaned closer and Michael clipped the leash to the ring that sat on his throat.

The metal was cool to the touch and not as heavy as he expected. He ran his fingers over the chain and followed it down to where Michael held the black leather grip. He met Michael’s eyes again. The temperature in the truck seemed to spike as Michael panted and squeezed the grip.

“Come here,” he ordered. His voice low and scratchy sent need racing through Alex’s body.

He climbed carefully over the console to straddle Michael’s legs. Alex ran his hands over his face gently, pressing his groin against him. Michael tugged on the leash, pulling him down to his lips. Alex whined at the cool metal brushing over his skin and the firm hold Michael had on him.

Their lips moved over each other slowly, tongues meeting in the middle. Alex rocked his hips at a similar pace, making Michael moan softly. He pulled on the leash harder, nibbling on Alex’s bottom lip. His other hand traced the pattern of the harness down to his hips before grabbing him and moving his hips faster.

Alex sighed as they rutted against each other. He wanted more. But Michael stopped them, stilling Alex’s hips and smirking into the kiss.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked, cocky as ever.

“As long as you’re the only one holding the other end,” Alex responded.

“No one will come near you. They just get to be jealous.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the mark gently. He let his lips trail over Alex’s jaw and down his neck, pressing a kiss where his fingers had just been. Alex sighed and let his head roll to the side. Michael growled. “So fucking hot. So good for me.” His hips rolled at the praise.

Michael just chuckled and opened the door, encouraging Alex to climb out. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and Alex was sure that was exactly what he intended. The wind blew and he shivered. Michael came up behind him, pressing his chest to his back. His breath was warm next to his ear.

“Keep your eyes down. There’s special guests in attendance and they don’t particularly like humans. I will protect you, ok?” Alex turned his head toward him, eyes narrowing.

“Then why are we here? You sound like you don’t want to be.” Michael shook his head and looked toward the doors to the club.

“Because I’ve been requested. And these aren’t the type of people you can just turn down.”

Alex sighed and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He knew the vampire world had a hierarchy and that it was based on age. In other words, Michael had been summoned by a very old vampire and if he didn’t show up, they might kill him for being rude.

“I’ll behave. I promise.” Michael smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Hopefully, they’ll get bored and leave early.” Alex snorted out a laugh. Vampires bored at a blood ball? Very unlikely.

They walked to the door hand in hand. Alex heard distant whispers but couldn’t make out any of what was being said. The music could be heard from inside, slow and pulsing. Alex looked around as they walked through the doors. He fit in better than the previous week. He matched the other donors but was still the most clothed out of all of them.

There was a firm yank on his collar as Michael dropped his hand. Alex stumbled forward slightly and glanced at him, surprised at the sudden shift in mood. Michael stood taller, less relaxed and his teeth poked out from his lips. He didn’t look at Alex.

He followed his line of vision to a group of people. All stunning and very obviously vampires. One fed on a girl who was completely naked and her eyes were slowly drifting closed. Alex wanted to look away but it was like a car crash. The man dropped her now limp body, kicking it away from his feet.

Alex could have thrown up. His fingers twitched and he wanted to reach for the gun he knew he didn’t have. How dare they just toss her away like she was nothing. Another firm tug on the leash made him look at Michael, who mouthed the word ‘down.’

He took a deep breath and walked a step behind Michael, looking at the ground as opposed to the horror they were coming up to. He knew there was a woman and three men but he was too distracted by the dying girl to take in their appearances. He chanced a glance at Michael’s back. He could see the tension in his muscles but there was no other indicator that he was reacting to the horrifying scene at all.

“Ah Michael. So you decided to show up. Is that a snack for us?” A chill ran down Alex’s spine at the woman’s cold voice.

“Apologies, Alayna. I didn’t—”

“You claimed a human,” one of the men exclaimed. Alex did his best to smother his reaction to being talked about as though he was nothing.

“Now this is an interesting development. What happened to the Michael that called other vampires stupid for keeping a human by their side,” the woman, Alayna, asked? He wanted to look at Michael but he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“With all due respect, Alayna, that was several hundred years ago. He happens to be a blood match.” She hummed her acknowledgement.

“Well I suppose I can’t fault you for that.” A pair of stilettoes stood in front of him. Long legs accented with fishnets and a skirt that was short in the front while the back dragged over the floor was all he could see. The smell of blood wafted over him and he tried not to gag. Fear raced through him. He had no weapons. Completely exposed. “Look at me slave.” He clenched his fists and raised his head slowly.

Her hair was dark and eyes blood red. Other than that she looked almost normal. Besides the fact she could have been a model. She lifted a hand that had claws for nails and grabbed his face, turning it to the side and exposing his mark. He fought against the instinct that told him to break her arm.

“Well he certainly smells heavenly. I’d love to taste him.” His eyes widened, ready to panic. He was pushed back and Michael stood in front of him. Alayna raised an eyebrow.

“Forgive my selfishness miss but I have to deny that request. You see I promised that no one else would hurt him. That’s my job after all.” Alayna let out a laugh and moved back to the cushioned chair she sat in before.

“Of course. But be careful Michael, if you let them think you care, they might expect something like love. Besides, wouldn’t a vampire be better for sex? They’re so much more durable. I know the last time I was here we had some fun.” Alex’s eyes darted between the two of them. Michael had been involved with this woman who reeked of blood?

He glanced over at the men. The one that had been feeding on the girl looked high. His eyes were closed and a content smile rested on his face. The peaceful nature was ruined by his teeth still fully extended and dead body at his feet. Another sat and observed Michael and Alayna. He had blonde hair and his eyes seemed normal. Blood stains ran down his face and chest.

The last man… watched Alex. Not a drop of blood was on him. Everything was still pristine and white. His hair was obviously dyed blue and black hair was dusted over his chin and chest. His shirt flowed and the buttons opened down to his bellybutton. His jeans were also white. Alex realized he was staring too late.

“Michael, you should teach your slave some respect. Show some humility. Gratefulness that he isn’t dead,” Alayna snapped. Alex jumped and looked back towards Michael. The chain was yanked and suddenly he was face to face with Michael, though he seemed to tower over him. His eyes were gentle and he swallowed before speaking.

“Apologize to Forrest,” he ordered. Alex redirected his eyes to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Forrest. Forgive my rudeness.”

“Sheesh Alayna. No need to be so cruel. I was the one staring at him.” His voice was warm and soft. Alex heard the rustling of clothes and the white pants were next to him and Michael. “What’s your name?”

“You’re too soft on humans. They’re sources of food. Treat them like it.” There was no real bite to her voice. But then again she was talking to one of her own.

A gentle finger was lifting his chin and he was staring into dark eyes. They looked on him fondly as Michael would. Maybe he wasn’t like the rest of them. A soft smile rested on his face and Alex couldn’t help the way the corners of his own mouth turned up.

“Alex,” he mumbled out, not wanting to anger Alayna further.

Michael grabbed Forrest’s wrist, pulling his hand away from Alex. He glanced at Michael and found a stiff smile on his face. The hand that was holding the leash pulled roughly, bringing Alex to Michael’s side.

“No disrespect, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from touching him. He is my claimed after all.” Forrest just nodded and smiled at them both. Though his gaze lingered slightly longer on Alex. Michael released his wrist, dropping it back to his side.

“I see we’re in the possessive stage. It’ll pass eventually.”

Alex wanted to shrink into nothing and disappear from the icy glare Michael was giving Forrest. He chanced a scolding from Alayna and wrapped his fingers around Michael’s arm loosely. His harsh gaze was redirected at him and a chill ran down Alex’s spine. Michael jerked his arm out of his hold and grabbed his throat. He wasn’t squeezing hard, but it was enough to make Alex completely forget about where they were.

His eyes fluttered closed as Michael turned his head to the side and sunk his teeth into the Mark. He didn’t take anything but the small amount of venom made his veins burn. As though someone was holding a lit match just above his skin. When he pulled away, he felt Michael’s lips brushing against his ear.

“Don’t look at him,” he threatened. Alex shivered but kept his mouth shut. He kept his eyes cast down as Michael released him.

“Was that display really necessary,” Forrest asked, scoffing slightly? Display?

“Well I find it incredibly offensive that you seem to be ogling something that belongs to me.” A stiff silence followed. Alex shifted closer to Michael, needing the cool touch of his skin just to calm his system. Biting him had been a show of dominance.

“Well, your claim might be enough to keep weaklings away but do you really think I couldn’t have him if I wanted?” Forrest’s voice was amused and taunting. Alex could only assume Michael had some sort of high standing if he had been involved with Alayna, but the way Forrest talked made it sound like he was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“I dare you to test that theory.” Alex jerked his head up to stare at Michael. His nose twitched with anger and red had taken over his eyes. He grabbed his arm again.

“Michael, please don’t,” Alex pleaded. Michael glanced at him and then back at Forrest. He took a deep breath as the red slowly retreated.

“I can’t believe you let him talk to you like that. Not a single respectful sentence leaves his mouth,” the blonde vampire that had been watching spoke for the first time. “If he was mine I’d break his jaw.” Alex slinked back, fear creeping through him.

“Shut up Caber,” Forrest snapped. “You have this bad habit of getting involved in my affairs.” Caber looked at Forrest, flashing a dazzling smile.

“I just get jealous. You never want to share blood anymore,” he said, pouting. Michael stepped into his line of view. Shielding him from the two arguing vampires.

“I hate to cut this meeting short but I’d rather be anywhere else. So excuse us,” Michael said while stepping away from them, towards a darkened corner of the club labeled Alter.

They didn’t make it two steps before Alayna was standing in front of Michael and lifting a clawed hand to his chin. She smiled at him in a way Alex was sure was supposed to be seductive. He looked to the floor before she caught him staring.

“I only wish you offered to share. We could have had fun after he was drained. You know your blood has always been my favorite.” Alex’s eyes snapped up. He watched her press her lips to Michael’s who didn’t reject her. He felt a light pull on his leash, making him look down to his clenched fists.

Alex kept his eyes trained on the floor until he couldn’t see her shoes anymore. Michael pulled him along and he followed silently. He held a curtain open as they walked through and Alex finally looked up.

Deep purple lights lined the ceiling with blue lights providing the ability to see. Sort of. Alex had to rely on Michael to make sure he didn’t trip over any tables or run into any chairs. Eventually, they entered a larger room. Lounging couches lined the walls as if they were set up in stations. Stages were scattered around with ropes hanging above them and some had people suspended.

Alex watched a woman spin with her arms and legs trust up so her legs were spread and wrists bound together. Her body was marked by bites and she looked like she could have been high. Another woman wrapped in all leather ran her hands over the other before leaning down and biting. Alex looked away, trying to preserve their privacy. Though he got the impression it wasn’t exactly important in this area. They walked past most of the people in the front area and entered a door towards the back.

“Where are we going,” Alex asked.

“To the spot made exclusively for Vampire/human pairs.” Alex heard the grin in his voice and he felt a blush rise to his face.

The room looked similar to the other but curtains hung in between each ‘station.’ The curtains were see-through but they obscured the furniture – and people – behind them slightly. Some were left open, people still not concerned with privacy.

Michael took him to an area near the back where a black couch almost as wide as a twin bed sat with a wooden table in front of it. Various bottles of wine and hard liquor sat on the table, along with small snacks.

Alex didn’t have time to appreciate it fully. Michael tugged on his leash, pulling his body flush against him. He pressed his forehead against Alex’s his free hand running over his face and down his neck to his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know Forrest would… be like that.”

“I was more scared of Alayna,” he responded, lifting his hands to run over Michael’s arms now that he was free to touch him. Forrest intrigued him. He found himself wondering how different it would feel to be bitten by him.

“You should be. As annoying as he was, had Forrest not stepped in you could have been seriously hurt. Still won’t thank the asshole.” Michael backed up and lounged on the couch. Alex stood at the edge, running his eyes over him. He smirked and pulled on the leash again, making Alex stumble forward into his lap.

Alex crawled up his body and assumed the same position from when they were in the truck. He ran his hands over Michael’s face gently, running his thumb over his lips.

“She kissed you. I hated that she could.” Michael shifted beneath him, pressing his hips up against him.

“I’m yours Alex. You taste far better.” Alex couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to his mouth. Michael slipped his tongue over his and Alex sighed. His hips rocked slowly, neither of them in any real rush.

Michael traced the straps of his harness, occasionally tugging on them. Alex dug his nails into his shoulders and scratched. The venom in his system had subsided rather quickly but he was ready for more. He knew Michael had plans for him and he was always eager to please him.

Forrest’s face popped into his mind. Alex jerked back from Michael, looking over his face to make sure he was still kissing who he thought he was. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Alex forced a smile and just shook his head, running his hands up and over his face again. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

When he pulled back, instead of golden curls, his fingers were threaded through soft blue strands. His eyes were darker and hands less calloused on his skin. The fingers gripped his waist and his eyes drifted closed as he kissed Forrest again.

The fingers on his skin fluttered over him, raising goosebumps. There was a prick of fangs on his lip as Forrest tugged on it. He pulled on his hair while grinding down on his obviously hard cock. His white shirt was fully open and Alex pressed their chests together. His touch was so much cooler than Michael, providing him some relief from the burning need in his groin.

“So you do want me. I was worried Michael had compelled you to devotion,” Forrest said.

“Michael wouldn’t do that to me,” Alex assured pulling back.

“I wouldn’t do what?” Alex’s eyes popped open. Settling back on his scruffy face. His touch burned on his skin and his mark throbbed. Alex crawled off him, instead sitting next to him and hiding his face in his arms. He had actually hallucinated Forrest. What was wrong with him?

“I… I…” he stammered out. If he told Michael, he would definitely get pissed. He didn’t want to be thinking of Forrest. But all he could imagine was having the soft plains of his chest pressed against his back. Michael touched his shoulder and squeezed.

“You saw Forrest?” Alex’s head snapped up to stare at him. How had he known? He didn’t look upset. Maybe annoyed but not mad. “He can put visions into people’s minds. I figured he’d do it to test our bond. You looked into his eyes earlier right?” Alex nodded wordlessly.

“You’re… not mad?” Michael chuckled and shook his head. He took Alex’s hand and pulled the fingers to his mouth to kiss them.

“No. I’ve known Forrest a while. He can be a real arrogant ass sometimes. And it’s not like I can blame you for being attracted to him. I’m not blind,” he said, playing with his fingers. “It’s not uncommon for vampires to share you know. You may be mine but I didn’t compel devotion.”

“That’s what he said,” Alex mentioned. Michael nodded.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but those who are claimed have the desire to be bitten. It’s instinct. Because I’m your Sire those feelings are usually directed towards me but your desire for other people doesn’t go away. I could compel it away but I told you I hated using that power.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t explain that to him earlier.” Alex turned his head to the new voice. Forrest stood with his arms crossed and leaning against the pillar holding up the curtains. He looked just as he did in the vision. Shirt completely open and a noticeable bulge that made Alex’s mouth water. He heard Michael sigh.

“Why would I tell him before it comes up? Not all claimed are just down for a threesome or gangbang. And sue me for wanting to keep him for myself.” Forrest rolled his eyes and Alex’s face was burning. This conversation sounded way to casual.

“I don’t blame you. But we could share him. Like the old days? Haven’t had anyone good in a long time and even Alayna knows you have good taste.”

“Is there some reason I’m not part of this conversation,” Alex said, pulling the two men’s attention back to him.

“It’s obviously your decision Alex. But it’s common courtesy that the interested parties ask permission from the Sire,” Forrest explained, glancing at Michael.

“And you two have done stuff like this together before?” Michael snorted.

“Surprisingly, we work well together. At least in that aspect. So,” Michael tugged gently on his leash. “If you’re interested. I can put up with him.”

“Oh, bite me Guerin,” Forrest scolded as he moved to stand in front of the couch, hands in his pockets. Michael glanced up at him and smirked.

“I had planned on it.”

“Earlier… you two didn’t seem to like each other,” Alex pointed out. In fact they had seemed downright hostile.

“An act mostly,” Forrest said, shrugging. “Alayna would have been jealous if she had been denied and I wasn’t.” Alex nodded slowly. The wrath of Alayna was never something he wanted to see. Alex looked at Michael who smiled at him sweetly, twisting the chain of the leash around his fingers.

“Let me make something clear, Alex. The only reason I’m entertaining the idea is because it’s Forrest. I trust him. I would tear anyone else who tried this apart,” Michael said, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Alex looked up at Forrest as Michael kissed his way over his jaw.

A smiled of his own sat on his face as he kneeled on the couch, pressing a leg in between Alex’s spreading them open. Forrest leaned in and kissed him slowly as Michael’s mouth ran over his neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin. Alex reached up and spread his fingers over Forrest’s abs and dragged them down until they dipped into the waist band of his jeans. He tugged him closer until Forrest was grabbing onto Michael for stability.

The prick of fangs on his lip made Alex sigh. The need was only fueled as he felt Michael sink his own fangs into the mark again, letting his venom flow into him. Alex’s hips rolled up against Forrest who moaned at the friction.

Forrest was pulled from Alex’s mouth by Michael. Alex watched in awe as the two vampires pressed their mouths together, rough and fast. They paid no mind to their teeth and let themselves scratch and bite. Forrest sucked on Michael’s lip where it bled, pulling a soft groan from him. Alex ran one hand over Michael’s arm and the other slipped over Forrest’s chest, pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

Michael helped with getting rid of the offending fabric. Then Forrest was breaking away from Michael, blood still on his lips, and kissing Alex again. Alex whined at the combined taste of the two men. It didn’t last long before he was being pulled by the chain on his neck. Alex’s cock ached under his jeans. But there were people around and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that step.

Michael pulled him in to straddle his legs again, grabbing Alex’s hips and pulling him down so he could feel the excitement in his own pants. He felt Forrest at his back, mouth running over his shoulder and neck opposite the mark. The nerves in his body screamed for more. Michael leaned up and kissed him, slipping his tongue past his lips. Alex’s brain was scattered. Torn between focusing on kissing Michael and Forrest’s teeth scratching along his skin.

Forrest pressed his hard-on against Alex’s ass, grinding against him slowly. He wasn’t sure whose hands were where. A pair ran over his skin, tracing the lines of the harness and another was popping the button on his jeans open. The arms wrapped around him, hands slipping into his pants and palming his cock. Alex couldn’t help the way his own hips thrusted into the touch. Michael broke away from his mouth and started undoing the clips on his vest.

“Good boy. Remember your punishment?” The question was accented by the brief squeeze of Forrest’s hand around him. He tried to smother his moan but only succeeded in making a high-pitched whine. “Forrest, would you like to taste him,” Michael asked, a smirk settling on his face as his own fangs extended to their full length.

Forrest hummed against his skin and he licked at the junction of his shoulder and neck. Alex’s body burned and his hips kept rubbing against Forrest’s hand and the bulge in Michael’s jeans. Michael’s vest fell open and he shrugged it off his shoulders. The movement forced him to lean close to Alex, pressing their chests together.

There was a pinch on his shoulder as Forrest pulled his attention to where he was attached to his skin. Alex called out and his hips jerked with the stab of pain. It vanished almost instantly with a new warmth rolling through his body. Desire leaked from the tip of his cock and he thought he heard Michael chuckle but he was too focused on Forrest.

Alex’s hand tangled in his hair, holding him in place as his eyes closed in bliss. The hand on his cock didn’t stop in its movements. Michael’s hands gripped his hips and brought him down against him again.

“Fuck,” Alex gasped out. Michael’s mouth landed on the mark, kissing once, twice, then biting. Stars danced behind his eyes and his free hand clawed at Michael’s back. He was rock hard and he needed release. Forrest pressed against his ass more firmly, the clench of his jaw making him leak more. The underwear he was in was soaked through and the dampness rubbing over him made him squirm.

He heard Forrest groan as he tasted Alex. He rocked his hips faster, forgetting where he was. Moans tumbled from his lips, louder with every jerk of the hand on his cock. Both pairs of fangs buried in his skin, feeling every clench of their jaws, blood being drawn to the surface and licked away.

Alex’s head was spinning, lost in the pure bliss of having the attentions of both men. Michael released him first, dragging his lips up his throat and pressing them to his ear. He nipped at his earlobe and Alex’s hips jerked again.

“Cum baby. I know you want to. Let everyone here know how good it feels.” A shudder rolled through his body and the hand on his cock squeezed just enough. A choked sound ripped out of his throat and his hips stuttered as the chain at his neck pulled him down. Michael’s mouth swallowed his moans as Forrest licked at the wound on his shoulder before tracing his lips to his spine and nipping gently.

Cum spilled over Forrest’s hand and Michael’s abs. The burning under his skin refused to stop and he broke away from Michael’s lips. He just shifted his attentions to his chest and nipples. Forrest released his still twitching dick and dragged his blunt nails over his skin. Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he caught the gaze of another couple a few stations down from them.

The guy smiled at him and licked his lips, fangs dripping with the blood of the girl that was wrapped in his arms, evidence of bites all over her back. The girl met his eyes next and smiled as well before pulling her vampire in for a deep kiss.

His attention was pulled back to his own men when Forrest dipped his fingers into the waist band of his jeans and began to pull them down, exposing his ass. Alex’s hands flew to Michael’s shoulders and he dug his fingers in.

His body screamed but he had just enough sense to want more privacy than they currently had. Michael stopped almost immediately and wrapped a hand around Forrest’s wrists, stopping him from pulling Alex’s jeans down too much.

“Be a good guest and draw the heavy curtains,” Michael said before nuzzling against Alex. Without a second thought, Forrest was gone and pulling the mesh curtains closed and then moving to a panel on the wall Alex hadn’t seen before. He pressed a button and dark red curtains began to drop from the ceiling.

“Still shy are we,” Forrest teased gently. Alex’s cheeks flushed. Forrest wasn’t shaming him, more making an observation about how he was different from other claimed humans.

“We’ll get there,” Michael said next to his ear. His breath raised goosebumps on his skin. The curtains hit the floor with a gentle thump. Forrest was kneeling next to Michael and running his hands over both him and Alex. His fingers caught on the harness he was wearing tugging his body one way while Michael pulled on the leash in the other direction.

“I have an idea if you’re interested,” Forrest said, leaning in and kissing Michael’s neck. The hand that was touching Alex dipped into his jeans again, continuing their earlier mission of ridding him of them.

Michael groaned at the wet kisses on his throat and his hips rolled up against Alex. The rough material of his jeans against his oversensitive cock made him whimper. Alex dipped his head down, kissing the other side of Michael’s neck, nipping occasionally.

“He has a very pretty mouth, why don’t we make use of it,” he heard Forrest say. A low laugh rumbled out of Michael. Alex was being both pushed and pulled to one side. Forcing him to crawl off Michael and sit on the couch. Michael held onto the chain attached to his harness and his cock twitched watching him wrap it around his hand for a better grip.

Michael and Forrest stood and moved in front of him. Michael pulled the chain, bringing his attention to him. He grinned and leaned in close.

“How’s your gag reflex looking these days, hunter?” Michael pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he could answer. He knelt in front of Alex and pulled his jeans down his legs, careful of the prosthesis. The scrap of fabric that was supposed to be underwear was pulled down with the pants.

Then Michael stood again and tugged the leash so Alex was on the edge of the couch. Forrest ran hand through Alex’s hair before gripping a handful and forcing him to look at the bulge in his pants.

“It’s easier to suck if you take the pants off,” Forrest taunted. Alex lifted his hands to the button and worked quickly. He licked his lips and heard Forrest chuckle. “Well he’s eager.” Alex looked up at him through his eyelashes, pulling his hard member from his pants.

He wasn’t as thick as Michael but slightly longer. When Alex finally wrapped his mouth around him, Forrest let out a long sigh of content as his hips rocked forward slowly. The fingers tangled in his hair tugged gently, encouraging him to take him deeper. Alex heard the rustling of clothes and Michael was taking his free left hand and placing it on his own cock.

Alex rubbed his thumb over the leaking tip, spreading the precum over the head. His own groin throbbed like he hadn’t just cum. He didn’t know whether he cursed the venom or was grateful for it.

He watched Forrest above him. His eyes had closed and the blood dripping from his lips was starting to dry. Michael shifted closer to both of them, leaning over and running his tongue over the drip of blood, cleaning his from his neck and chin. Forrest’s fingers tightened in his hair again and Alex mimicked the grip on Michael’s cock. Alex took Forrest to the back of his throat at the same time Michael bit into his shoulder.

Alex didn’t move for a couple seconds, swallowing around the cock in his mouth. Forrest groaned and cursed, his hips thrusting forward. Alex kept his gag reflex from complaining too much. He pulled off before he could thrust again and switched his attention to Michael, wrapping his mouth around him instead.

The taste of the two men was similarly salty but they were both unique. Alex swirled his tongue around Michael, his moans muffled by his teeth buried in Forrest’s shoulder. His hips rolled forward with the bob of Alex’s head. Forrest set their pace as he pulled and pushed, using his hair as a guide.

As Michael’s hips started to move faster, he was pulled off and returned to Forrest. Alex looked up at them and Michael had released Forrest and they were kissing, Forrest’s hand still tangled in his hair. He watched as their tongues licked at each other, trying to taste the leftovers from the biting.

What was it like for a vampire to be bitten by another? Did they actually drink blood or was it more for the kink? Alex wondered for a moment but as his eyes fluttered closed, the thoughts vanished. He lost himself in the rhythm of Forrest’s hips thrusting in and out of his mouth.

Alex went back and forth between them. Whenever one got too excited he would switch. His fists were wrapped firmly around their cocks, keeping them from going too deep. Alex teased them both like this. Michael’s hand had found its way into his hair alongside Forrest.

“Fuck baby, you’re a menace. You keep us on the edge too long and you might regret it,” Michael warned when Alex was licking over his shaft again. Alex looked up at the two of them and sucked hard on Michael, causing his hips to jerk forward.

The chain attached to him was tugged roughly, pulling him up and off. Alex was between the two of them again, Forrest in front and Michael pressed against his back. He leaned forward and licked at Forrest’s bottom lip before kissing him. He groaned and kissed him back eagerly, fangs pricking his lips.

Michael’s hands busied themselves by running over his ass, fingers just barely brushing over his hole. Alex’s cock jumped at the attention and the muscles clenched. He remembered the way Michael had used him earlier and whimpered against Forrest’s now grinning mouth.

“Are you still stretched out?” Michael pressed a finger into him slowly. Though not enough to be satisfying. “Why don’t we show our friend,” he taunted, brushing his lips over the mark on his neck. The chain was yanked and he was forced to his hands and knees. His cock wept with precum as he hid his face in the back of the couch, face burning from being exposed to someone other than Michael.

He didn’t get to hide long as a hand slipped into his hair and pulled his face up. His back was bent so he couldn’t move. He met the eyes of Forrest who smiled wickedly at him.

“Why don’t you show me what he did to you,” he said. Alex could feel the probing at his brain but opened himself up any way. His mind raced through the memory of Michael fucking him in the shower. His legs being spread open, not being allowed to touch himself, the brief glimpse of Michael buried inside of him in their reflection.

A cool wetness pressed into his ass, pulling him from the memory. His eyes darted to Forrest’s other hand, coated in lube and moving in and out of him slowly. Alex moaned and pressed back against his fingers.

“You fucked him good, he’s addicted to it. Then again you do have that effect on people,” Forrest said, glancing at Michael. Alex heard Michael chuckle and felt his hands on the inside of his thighs, pushing his legs apart.

“What can I say? I’m probably addicted to him too. And don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Michael said before kneeling on the couch and pulling Alex’s head back to his hard cock. Alex didn’t fight as he pushed past his lips and started thrusting slowly. He watched his head fall back and mouth open in a silent moan.

Forrest continued to finger him for a moment before Alex felt his hand wrap around his cock and jerk him off. Alex groaned around Michael who shuddered with the vibrations. Forrest scissored his fingers a couple times, making sure he was ready before pulling them out. Alex felt the blunt pressure of his cock and the cool relief of the lube.

Forrest pressed into him slowly, letting out a breathy moan as he moved. Alex tried pressing back against him but Michael held him steady, shoving his cock to the back of his throat. The muscles in Alex’s back flexed as his gag reflex tried to get rid of the intrusion. He willed himself to relax but that was becoming difficult with Forrest grinding against his ass as his cock was completely buried in him. Forrest’s hand was still stroking him slowly.

“I would ask how it feels to be completely filled but I think you’re a bit preoccupied,” Forrest teased. Alex could only groan in response as he started thrusting roughly. Michael’s hand ran over his back and wrapped around one of the straps of the harness. He pulled on it as his hips moved again, fucking his mouth.

Every sensation rolled through him in waves as the venom burned his veins. His cock throbbed as the two men matched tempos, alternating their thrusts. Alex teetered on the edge but his body refused to cum. He had no doubt there was influence from Forrest’s hand wrapped around the head of his cock, stopping it every time.

Michael dug his nails into Alex’s shoulder as tears slipped out of Alex’s eyes after a particularly rough thrust that hit the back of his throat.

“You’re so good baby,” Michael said, slipping out of Alex’s mouth. He leaned down and kissed him, tongue slipping past his lips to taste himself. Forrest pulled out of him and he whined at the emptiness.

“Please don’t stop. I need more,” Alex pleaded, pushing back against Forrest. His hand left his cock and his hips jerked, looking for friction.

“You hear that, Michael?” Forrest asked.

“I did,” he muttered back, a smirk forming on his face.

“How much more do you think he wants?” Michael looked away from him and up at Forrest. Alex tried to reach down and touch himself for some form of relief. His hand was caught by Forrest, who pulled him up to his knees. He rubbed himself along the seam of his ass, occasionally poking his hole.

Alex trembled and Michael reached out, running his fingers first over the mark and then down his chest, over his stomach and abs, and ended by running a finger over the tip of his cock. Alex groaned and pleaded for something. Anything.

“Patience. You know we’ll take care of you,” Michael said almost sweetly. That sweetness was negated as he continued to tease him by running his finger down his shaft and then cupped his balls gently. Alex’s hips jerked but Forrest held him mostly still. His lips ran over the area he had bit earlier. “Remember he’s just human, doesn’t exactly replace blood as fast as us,” Michael reminded Forrest.

“I know. I’ve been at this a bit longer than you,” Forrest teased back before letting his dull teeth sink into Alex’s skin, though not breaking the surface. Alex watched as Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in close, pressing his mouth to Alex’s.

He sighed against his lips as the hand that fondled him moved again, fingers slowly traveling to his ass and slipping inside. The lube Forrest had used earlier easing the way. Alex reached down and wrapped a hand around Michael, stroking him slowly. A rumble from his chest and then he was pulling away.

Michael reached over Alex’s shoulder to push back on Forrest so he was sitting properly on the couch. The three of them moved easily, the support of both of their hands took any work off of Alex and his leg. Then he was sitting in Forrest’s lap, his cock poking at his hole where Michael’s fingers were still buried.

Michael pushed his legs open as far as he could and Alex half fell backward. He steadied himself on Forrest’s arms though he didn’t seem to mind. He kissed his shoulders and ran his hands over Alex’s sides, lightly tickling him.

Alex shuddered and his moan was swallowed by Michael’s mouth. His fingers moved inside him slowly and Forrest’s cock poked at his entrance. Forrest massaged spots on his skin with his tongue, but not long enough to leave any more bruises. He felt Michael shifting around and his free hand brushed over his chest and throat. He unhooked the leash and tossed it to the side, nipping at his lip. Alex’s eyes opened to meet Michael’s and he was grinning.

“Why don’t you show off how full you can stuff your ass?” Alex thought about protesting but his own need screamed to let them do whatever they wanted.

“Oh? Does he like feeling full?” Forrest taunted. Michael pressed against his prostate and Alex couldn’t help but whine.

“Yes, fuck. If one of you doesn’t fuck me soon I might lose my mind,” Alex pleaded. His cock throbbed with need and he heard both of the men chuckle.

“Just one?” Forrest questioned.

“I think we can do better than that,” Michael added. Alex was only confused for a moment before Forrest was pushing his dick inside him alongside Michael’s fingers. Alex cursed and his head fell back, eyes closing. He did the best he could to move his hips but the stretching of his hole prevented it.

He groaned along with Forrest, who’s fingers gripped his hips tight enough he was sure there would be bruises. They moved slowly inside of him, Michael’s fingers tugging on Alex gently, stretching his rim. It wasn’t enough. The slow pace was torture.

“Please, I need—” His words were just about ripped from his throat when Michael took him in his mouth. Moans and pleas for relief went ignored and his body buzzed with need. Forrest began to rock his hips faster and Alex felt his breathing spike.

Michael popped off him with a wet sound and he reached for the bottle of lube that had been tossed to the side earlier. Alex watched him with desperation. He pulled his fingers from his ass slowly and he squirt a healthy amount of lube on his fingers. Michael stroked himself with the lube and Alex felt his legs shake from the stimulation. Once he was coated, he pressed his cock against Alex’s, rubbing them together a few times before he was dragging the head over his skin to wear Forrest still moved inside him.

Alex’s cock twitched with anticipation. Forrest stilled his hips and pulled most of the way out, letting Michael rub the excess lube over him. Forrest moved to the spot he had bit earlier, slowly sinking his teeth in again. Alex gasped as the warmth from the venom spread through him, forcing his muscles to relax.

“There you go, baby,” Michael said gently. “You’ll feel really good soon.” Michael pushed the head of his cock against his rim. Forrest began to move again slowly and Michael pushed against him whenever Forrest moved inside.

The venom moving through Alex made his hips roll. Michael pulled away briefly and slipped his fingers in beside again. The burn of the stretch made Alex’s cock leak. Forrest pulled out so just the tip was still inside. Michael pressed against him again in the small space created by his fingers.

Forrest and Michael pushed in at the same time. Alex yelped and dug his nails into Forrest’s arms. Michael kissed his chest and throat as they continued their shallow thrusts, getting deeper each time. Forrest licked at the wound on his shoulder where a small drop of blood had escaped.

“Oh, god,” Alex moaned out. The initial pain was fading quickly and the two men groaned and grabbed at his skin, fingers catching on the harness. Their movements were easy and picking up speed. They moved opposite one another, each pressing against the same groups of nerves again and again.

“How does it feel? To be fucked by two at once?” Forrest mumbled next to his ear. With the end of the sentence, Michael thrusted into him roughly, his hips pressing down forcing Forrest all the way into him as well. Alex’s body shook with pleasure as he moaned.

“Go on and tell us how you want it, hunter,” Michael added. Alex could barely think straight, much less give them an answer. He moved a hand from Forrest to grab Michael’s shoulder and pull him in for a kiss. He rolled his hips, earning him growls and moans from both of them.

Michael kissed him back for a moment but tore his mouth away and shoved him back against Forrest’s chest who then kissed and bit at his neck and the spot just below his ear. Alex whimpered as they both started thrusting again.

“Use your words,” Forrest threatened against his skin, nails scratching his hips.

“I want—I need—” he stammered out. The two of them moved together, thrusting roughly a few times. “More. I need more,” he finally spit out.

“Good boy,” Michael praised. He wrapped a hand around Alex’s cock and stroked him. Forrest thrusted up, using Alex’s hips to move him deeper. Michael squeezed him firmly as he grinded against him. The twisting in his stomach signaled his orgasm was close. But it could have easily been the fact that both men were buried as far as they could go.

Alex let out a long moan as Michael and Forrest fucked him. They slipped along each other easily thanks to the lube. He let go of Forrest’s arm and reached behind him to tangle it in his hair instead, holding his lips to his skin. Alex locked eyes with Michael and reached for him with his free hand. Michael leaned in close, pressing his forehead to Alex’s, hand still stroking his cock.

“Harder,” Alex ordered them.

He saw Michael smile and neither of them questioned it. Their hips were no longer in sync as they thrusted into him. Forrest’s breathing against his shoulder was ragged and shallow, low grunts vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck, Alex. We’re gunna break you if we go any harder,” Michael warned. Alex knew they were holding back but his body screamed. The venom pulsing under his skin making him needy.

“I don’t care. I need it,” Alex pleaded. Michael growled and his fangs poked out from his lips. Forrest’s nails scratched up over his torso, leaving long red lines. His teeth poked at the wound on his shoulder again.

His permission made them snap. Michael’s cock throbbed as he shoved himself balls deep. Forrest followed his lead and Alex’s breath left him in a gasp. He heard Michael curse as his hips thrusted back and forth, waiting for Forrest to thrust in before pulling out again. Forrest bit his shoulder roughly and Alex whimpered.

Michael’s free hand wrapped around Alex’s throat and the one gripping his cock kept the quick pace. The three of them groaned and sighed together, Alex steadily getting louder as every thrust got harder. Forrest and Michael ravaged his body, taking whatever they needed.

“Fuck. I’m gunna—” Alex didn’t have time to finish his sentence before he came. Michael jerked him as cum rolled over his fingers. “Ah—Ah!” he moaned as the sensitive nerves complained from the continued stimulation.

“You ready to be filled?” Forrest asked, breathless. There was no time to respond before both of them really let themselves go. They used him mercilessly as his own orgasm refused to stop. Alex let his body open wider for them as his cock jerked and throbbed.

Forrest came first, grunting and grinding his hips against his ass roughly. Michael crushed his lips to Alex’s and let his own orgasm come over him. The three of them moaned together as Forrest and Michael thrusted a few extra times while they emptied themselves.

Their heavy breathing was the only thing Alex could hear. And the fluids leaking from his ass made him feel hot but content. The three of them laid on top of each other even as Forrest and Michael pulled out of him.

Slowly the low music re-entered his ears, reminding Alex where they were. He looked around at the heavy curtains. He could distantly hear other moans of ecstasy from other areas of the room. He tried but couldn’t bring himself to care that others might have heard him.

Michael pushed himself up and off of Alex before slipping his arm under his legs and around his back, picking him up and holding him close. Forrest moved to collect his clothes lazily. Michael set Alex on his lap when he sat on the couch, running his fingers up and down his spine.

Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head on his shoulder. The rustling of clothes stopped and a second hand landed on his skin. He looked up at Forrest who ran his fingers over the bite on his shoulder.

“You might want to heal that. Or it might scar.” He felt Michael nod. Forrest met Alex’s eyes and smiled. “Michael’s lucky to have you. You’re certainly a handful but taste amazing. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

“You could always stop hanging around with Alayna,” Michael suggested. Forrest just shrugged.

“I’ll hang around her until I can be certain I won’t be hunted for sport,” he said. Michael snorted a laugh but Alex’s eyebrows drew together in worry.

“What do you mean hunted?”

“You’re a hunter. You guys always go after the oldest vampires you can find. Not to mention there’s even a few other vamps that want the oldest dead. Hierarchy and all that shit,” he said nonchalantly. Alex didn’t know how to respond. He had never paid attention to the ages of the vampires he killed. “You keep him safe Michael. Would be a shame to lose one as valuable as him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here,” he said. Alex could pick up the serious promise under the joking tone. Forrest smiled at him one last time before disappearing behind the heavy curtains.

They sat together in silence. Alex traced patterns on his chest while Michael rubbed his back, massaging the muscles. He nuzzled his shoulder while his hand wandered down to his ass, running over the cheeks and his hole gently. Alex whimpered.

“I’ll draw you a bath when we get to my house,” Michael said, kissing his skin and moving his hand back up his spine. Alex nodded and traced his fingers up to Michael’s face, cradling it gently. Alex looked down at his lips and watched as he bit into it, drawing blood. He smiled and closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together sweetly. The bit of blood slipped over his tongue and it tasted like home. They kissed slowly for a while, lost in each other.

“We should get dressed,” Alex mumbled eventually. Michael gave an exaggerated sigh but began to move anyway. He placed Alex on the couch and moved to pick up their scattered clothes. Alex watched his ass as he moved. As perfect as it was, he was spent for the day.

Michael helped him dress even though he insisted it wasn’t necessary. Alex didn’t even blush when they walked out from behind the heavy curtain. He felt eyes on him but ignored it. Michael had reattached the leash, saying it was only if Alayna was still around.

They made their way through the club, Alex keeping his eyes down again. When they got out to the main room, Michael stopped suddenly. Alex ran into his back and followed his line of sight. Alayna was no where to be seen but Caber was. He talked sweetly to a donor girl as she giggled and flirted, exposing her neck as much as possible. Caber wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked past the security guards out the front door.

“I thought…” Alex started. Guests weren’t supposed to leave with donors. And something told Alex it wasn’t a situation like him and Michael. He looked over him and saw the rage in his eyes. Alex took his hand and he squeezed back. Without looking away from the door, Michael spoke.

“Let’s follow him.”

[the-slasher-files]

DIFFERENT PREDATORS - chapter 4

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAVIERA LAH-MO

Loving writing for this couple so so much! This literally feels like a movie and it has over taken my life. In this chapter we get to look at feral Andrei in full form, which is so cool to write for. Just a warning it is very gory. Make sure to read part one, two and three.

Also please go read @horrorslashergirl oc Xaviera’s perspective on the chapter linked HERE

MASTERLIST

Soft breathes filled the room as both predators came down gently from their high. Andrei ran his tattooed palm along Xaviera’s naked shoulder she shuddered at his touch, her icy blue eyes were now a calm blue as she watched him light a cigarette with his free hand, blowing the smoke away from her in an unconsciously kind way. The wolf had taken what was his again from the world and it felt so right, better than any time before, and he was comfortable tonight, just laying together.

Looking back down at her his eyes were calm, and jaw ebbed of the tension and control, the wolf was down. She breathed slowly and strong, her soft skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat in the low light. She was the perfect prey.

“So… How was your first time?” He asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.  “everything you wanted it to be?” His cockiness apparent in his question.  

Xaviera took a moment with the question, maybe put off but his cocky ways like most but she hummed and replied with a flash of cheekiness “Mhmmm….Always pictured that my first time would be with a wolf. I guess I am more fond of feral beasts.”  

Andrei gave a huff of a laughter appreciating the many sides of her personality, she continued to match him whole heartedly. “Well aren’t you lucky.” He waited for her to continue but was comfortable in the silent pause, but noticed something in her eyes, she was looking at his cigarette that lazily hung from his lips. Andrei took a drag again but blowing the smoke closer to her to see if she liked the taste, “Would you like one?”    

Xaviera perked up at the question, and she took from his cheap Russian pack that he had offered up. Taking a slow drag she sighed contently, allowing the smoke to billow to wisp around her, framing her face. “Haven’t smoked since college. Sleepless nights full of studying.” Xaviera spoke looking up at Andrei through thick lashes and licking her lips.

“Y'know you look hot with a cigarette hanging out of those soft lips…” the wolf whispered, leaning in close to her face blowing smoke directly at her and capturing it in a kiss. He savored his favorite taste of tobacco and her sweetness with a hint of left over cum in the kiss the wolf moaned. Pulling away Andrei took the cigarette from her hand only to put his down in the ashtray and finish hers, a trait of the beasts playfulness. “You shouldn't smoke.. its bad for you” he smiled.  

She smiled in return and rubbed her nose on his own as animals do in affection.  "I know.... That's why I gave up smoking after college." she told Andrei, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.  

Andrei was breaking slowly and surly like a house with a cracked foundation and she was seeping through the cracks. He nodded “you must have a good strong will then myshka.”  

Putting down the cigarette in the ash tray one of his large hands rubbed her side while the other interlocked with her small hand, watching intensity as the wolf engulfed her hand with his. Bending the top of his fingers on hers, pulling away slightly and letting her trace his tattoo. Andrei kissed her forehead, closing his eyes trying desperately to be ok with the intimacy.

“When you lived most of your life among creatures that could kill you in a matter of seconds, you have to be always careful. Never underestimate someone by appearance. That’s what my father used to tell me…” she found herself telling him.

Andrei tightened his grip on the small woman, holding her close and telling her it was ok. He too had learned the same listen; His uncle was a paranoid mess, worried of anyone and putting fear in the hearts of Andrei and his sister at a young age, that absolutely anyone could rip them apart, mentally and physically. Then the fear only grew stronger as Andrei went to the army, undercover with some of Russia’s most dangerous people, no matter that their size. He learned to not be surprised with it anymore.

Humming and listening to the vulnerability, appreciating it. “A wise man” Andrei whispered into her white hair, letting her continue and taking in her sweet smell.

Xaviera bit her lip as she was compilating if she would continue. She was so cute when she bit her lip. Tugging at the stony heart people had created for him, but the way she curled into him, and the soft soothing voice made him feel at home. Xaviera saw through his beastly ways and saw the man underneath.

“Yes, he was. He always knew what to say and how to solve any problem…If it wasn’t for him…I wouldn’t have been here today.” she tells Andrei, curling her body against his much bigger one, seeking protection and comfort in a silent way he was more than happy to provide.    

Andrei pulled in a deep breath, considering to tell her his family life as well, but he paused. The wolf biting his neck forcing him into submitting but he brushed it off. Who knew if he was even going to see her again. What did it matter.

“My.. uh, my dad was killed when I was young boy, just leaving me, my uncle, sister and..” his breath hitched slightly “my mother…. but um.. she was murdered when I was 12” Andrei shifted uncomfortably with his vulnerability, but tugged her close as a form of comfort, something he did with his sister growing up.

“She must have been a wonderful and beautiful woman... My mother... S-She was killed too... A-Along with my father.” she began to tell him with a shake in her voice, a breaking predator in his large hands. “My father was killed by poachers in a trip to Africa….Me and my mother run…B-But….She saved me….Giving her life. T-They killed her too…..She hid me into the hallow of a tree….A-And after they left her body…..T-The hyneas….T-They devoured her….They ripped her face apart.” Xaviera began to cry, walls tumbling down around her and allowed Andrei to pick up the pieces.

“I had to watch until she was a mess of flesh and bones.” she choked on a sob, her face buried into his chest. “I-I was so weak.” she breathed out.

Andrei’s heart was ripping and tearing as she shook, telling him the horrors she had been through. A deep part of his soul sympathizing with her; they had both seen the mangled, broken corpses of their mothers, with a beast looming over them. Unfortunately, Andrei was the beast in his story, but he wasn’t going to tell her now, that was for a different night.  

Feeling the deep sobs and broken words spilling from her sweet lips he held her strong and instinctively, wanting to protect her. “ssssh… little one…” Andrei pulled back slightly meeting her red eyes, cupping her jaw and wiping the tears away. “It was never your fault… Beasts take and take from this world with greed, no mercy… and it is no one’s fault” Andrei’s soul was reassuring himself more so than Xaviera at this point, and he glanced at his tattoo, reading it, the words ‘NO GODS’ screamed in his head. He wanted to blame god for what he did, what had happened, what he took from him, but the true danger was people. Not the beasts. There were no gods to blame.

Her gaze met his in a soft reassurance. “That’s why I hate most humans so much….Humans call animals beasts but they are the ones.” she whispered, letting the last tears fall down her cheeks. “Animals aren’t greedy, vain… They do it to survive…. Humans are conducted by their avarice.” she spoke, taking one of his big hands in both her tiny ones, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, then her eyes drifted to the big scars on her thigh.

Fuck, she was killing him. Speaking his brutal but beautiful language. Her gentle affection was something new for him, something no one had ever shown the wolf, but he liked it, he could learn this gentle nature from her.

“I got this one from a mother Grizzly. Me and my dad encountered the cubs first and because I was young and foolish… She attacked me….. My dad saved me, but the Grizzly left a souvenir.” she spoke, looking from the claw marks to Andrei. “I learned not to be afraid of the wild animals… But also respect them. Respect what can kill you.” Nuzzling into him like a little cat.

Andrei’s eyes widened at the thought of a grizzly coming after her, she was so small but so tough. Xaviera held the quiet power of beasts within her but covered it in a gentle grace, something he was less than skilled at.

He took his free large hand and brought it down to her thigh tracing the scar like it was art, Xaviera shivered at his touch. Bringing his lips to her forehead he spoke “Well thank you for respecting me” he laughed, trying to lighten the deep moment.

She snorted and rolled her blue eyes at his smug joke, "Yes, yes. I respect you, all high and mighty Alpha Wolf." She cheekily told him, one of her fingers scratching under his chin playfully, like one would do to a dog, he just shook his head at the playful endearing energy she had.

"Just don't step on my tail or I am gonna bite your precious jewels off." she whispered against his lips, her blue eyes glinting. Andrei’s eyes went sharp again at her words, ready to pounce at her again. He took her lips in a deep kiss, grinning at the end and pulling away, sexual thoughts filling his head with the mention of her mouth being that close to his manhood.

“Go ahead and try it precious kitten” Andrei rolled Xaviera on top of him now, placing his hands on her hips for a moment until bring them to the sides of her neck, the wolf inside wanted to turn the action deadly but he inhaled and brought her down into a kiss again.

She kissed him back as he did, her small hands moving to touch his bigger ones that were rested on her neck. “I love it when you touch my neck.” Xaviera whispered into the kiss, her thumbs stroking his knuckles.

The wolf wanted to take her over and over again by the way she would speak to him, letting a fire and holding it strong within him, but he needed to relax. She was so small, so tempting, bones so easy to break under his hands.

His jaw tensed as his fingers went tighter around her throat, not enough to choke for Andrei controlled himself. “Be careful with those sweet words baby girl” he whispered back feeling her breath hitch slightly under his fingers.

"You know..... You are the only one who has ever touched my neck and survived." she whispered, looking down at him, cheeks dusted by a furious blush from their position.

His brow raised and the signature smirk came back to his face “there is still time darling” he silently laughed appreciating her wild side. Swiftly and expertly Andrei rolled her again, pinning her beneath the beast of a man. Moving close to her face, cigarette stained breath ghosting over her Andrei kissed her again leaving her breathless once one as he pulled away “Well thank you for letting me live… for now” he smirked and got up from bed going downstairs.

Grabbing the 2 mugs of hot tea Andrei surveyed the cabin one last time for potential threats, an instinct he could never lose. Making it into the bedroom Xaviera had her head buried in the pillow which made him confused, the soft side of him tugging to know what was wrong and the wolf breathing down his neck to strike while she was vulnerable.

“Everything alright?” Andrei asked putting her mug down and getting into bed with his own mug, running his hand down her shoulder.

"Yes... E-Everything is alright... Just... Thinking." she replied, avoiding his gaze at the end and nibbling on her lower lip, a blaze of blush creeping up her features.

Andrei saw that blush again, a sight he could get used to seeing. Then that lower lip bit, ugh, she was breaking him. But he just nodded and sipped his tea watching the snow fall out the windows, his soul still wanting to run free but his heart was being caged by the beautiful woman in bed with him. Another fight to be had within him.

“Thinking… about me?” Smirked turning towards her “Don’t be sly… I’m beginning to know that beautiful blush well baby girl.” he teased with the prey as she choked on the words he spoke. He was under her skin and he reeled in it.  

"I-Its not like that! I mean... You were amazing and I loved every second of it... Its just.... I never shared...a moment like this." she spoke, looking down at the cup of tea in her lap.

He smiled at her innocent nature. “I’m just teasing myshka, it was a joke…” he hooked two large fingers under her chin making her look up at him. “But I was right.” He huffed only for her to glare at him, the blush still present.

“Still a knucklehead.... Don't make me throw your ass in the snow." she told him, taking a sip of her tea to hide her smile. Setting his tea down on the nightstand, the fingers under Xaviera’s chin moved along her jaw sweetly.

“And still a fierce kitten” Andrei’s fingers laced within her white hair and kissed her again. Xaviera closed her eyes as he kissed her, her tongue running along his bottom lip only to shyly start sucking on it, her eyes opened, looking into his own, challenging him slightly.

Andrei’s eyes went sharp again, “well you learn fast.” He grinned licking his canines, the hand within her hair tightened in a fist, he wasn’t gonna be that easy with her anymore. Crashing his lips against hers again roughly his tongue explored her mouth and fought with her tongue, savoring the taste. Without even looking Andrei’s one hand moved down her arm, taking the tea and reaching over her to put it on her nightstand which in turn was pinning her beneath him again. Biting her lip hard enough to draw a little blood he pulled back, knowing what the copper taste would do to him, he moved the kisses along her jaw and to Xaviera’s so sensitive neck.

"T-That's not fair... Y-You know my sensitive spots... A-And I don't know yours." the prey breathed out in a shuttering voice.

He grins against her, brushes the sharp teeth of the wolf along the delicate bruised skin he created. “A predator never just tells you their weak spot..” he pulled away looking her deep into her glimmering eyes “you of all people should know that, darling”

"I-I...." the prey stammered, blushing hot at his words.

Andrei stopped at her stammering words, she was embarrassed and shy beneath the wolf. He moved a large hand to stroke through her white locks and he rested his forehead on hers like animals show affection. “Ssshh.. little mouse… I will not hurt you.” The wolf couldn’t promise that, he knew that, but he never wanted to. She was different, she was an animal just like him.

“I-It’s alright… You know… When I was in Africa I watched as Leopards mate. The males always bite the nape of the females. Not to kill her, but to assert dominance. I suppose that goes for humans too?” she told him in a quiet voice, biting on her lower lip.

His gentle grin appeared again, she understood him even with all his teeth, he hummed at her words “You are mine.” Andrei placed his hand on the side of her neck and deeply kissed her, grinding himself against her, but quickly rolled off and pulled her close to him again. A ever fought battle of animalistic urges and a gentle side.

Xaviera nuzzled her face into his chest, and humming. "All yours, Wolfy. All yours.... Considering half my neck is blue and purple." she said with a smile.

Andrei huffed a small laugh, it was an instinct for him, a carnal desire to go for the neck and it always had been. Her words lit him up, someone accepted it for once that they were his, even if it was just until the snow stopped. Looking down at her Xaviera was beaming with pride.

“What a cute little thing” He kissed her forehead and started to absent mindedly run one of his hands along the giant scar on his chest. Her eyes drifted to the scar his sister gave him but she never pressured him and that he was grateful for.

"Little with enough venom to kill 100 Men." she said with a devilish glint in her eyes, her lips pressed against his big scar.

He smiled at the power she had in those words, she could kill poachers with her gun and arrows but she could also kill a man’s heart, even if it was locked away deep inside. Andrei’s jaw tensed in the gentle affectionate nature she presented him with, no one had kissed his scars in fear of what he might do them, but she didn’t have fear of him. He just looked down at her beautiful blue eyes through her thick lashes.

“It is time for sleep myshka” he leaned down brushing his lips against hers “.. unless you want to go again?” He grinned licking his canines.

“As much as I would love to get frisky with the big bad wolf…. I have to rest. The blizzard will stop tomorrow morning and I will have to go…hunting.” She whispered, her hand brushing against his chest up and down.

Xaviera spoke sweetly but truthfully and Andrei pulled away resting his head on the pillow, his mind finally felt at ease here in the tangled sheets but the way she was rubbing his chest was starting a fire he might not be able to control again, so the wolf roughly grabbed her wrist and spoke “you might want to stop doing that then.. or else I’m not taking your excuses.” He let go of her, controlling himself again and running a large hand down her grizzly scars and settling there.

"Got it, knucklehead." she huffed, rolling her eyes. Respecting his inner demons and roughness. She pressed a kiss under his chin. “Good night, Wolfy.” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest.

Grinning at the new nickname he closed his eyes, this was one night the trauma and memories wouldn’t come, he was safe in his own head tonight and he could finally relax. Tension ebbed from his muscles and jaw feeling himself melt into the bed and into the body next to him. “Goodnight kitten”

Even if it was just for the night, he felt at home, a relaxation he had never known.

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

The winter morning sun cascaded through the old glass of the cottage, his icy blues eyes opened softly and his hand stretched out, only feeling coldness surrounding him. Andrei was alone. Then there was a the closing of the door to confirm his suspicion. Her free spirit eluded him again.

“Motherfucker-” He cursed rushing downstairs and looking out the window, she was loaded up and ready to kill. A surge of protection came over him, and unfamiliar feeling in his heart he just couldn’t place other than he needed her. She didn’t know what else these poachers were involved in like he did, one of them was in the Ukrainian special forces, one similar to Andrei but lower class.

Getting dressed in his winter camo, throwing on his military vest loaded with ammo, knives, first aid and basically anything useful to get himself out of a jam. Placing his rifle over his shoulder and lacing up his combat boots, he finally placed on his mask with a deep growl. The one last thing that made him the beast.  

Stepping out into the cold winter he followed Xaviera’s tracks, leading up the mountain and twining through the forest. The wolf stalked for about two hours and that’s when he heard it a large truck approaching through the clearing just beyond the forest. He was close.

Running through the trees silently he waited, waited for her calling, the sniper rifle shots. Crouching low within the frost covered brush something he didn’t expected happened, the tires of the large truck exploded from a spike strip hidden in the snow. The little leopard knew some tricks, the wolf grinned from behind the mask.  

The first man stepped out of the truck and there was a sudden crack. The sniper rifle. “Xaviera” His trained ears perked as he listened to the sound and the vibrations, she was up on the ridge, hidden almost perfectly among the terrain, white hair flowing perfectly into the snow.

His icy blue eyes fell on the man who was bleeding lifelessly in the snow, the hot crimson melting the ice around him. The wolf’s eyes dilated and he growled with the second crack on the gun. His skin was crawling eagerly, his muscles stiffened and his mouth watered. Andrei tried to shake it off but the desire burned too hot.

Andrei... Breathe... If you go out there you will get her killed... Breathe... Wait..

So the wolf waited and watched from the trees, blue eyes sharp on the woman coming down the ridge closing in on the truck. He breathed. He contemplated showing himself, but her job wasn’t done yet and he could ruin it all. Xaviera broke the lock of the truck and opened the heavy doors with a large metal squeak falling into the forest.

There was her prize, a beautiful large snow leopard leaped out of the truck majestically, shaking its fur and running off just to the right of the wolf, they shared a quick glance at each other. It was a look of respect. Two different predators, one now free while the other was protecting, heart still chained to the woman by the truck.

Suddenly the wolf felt the hair on his neck stand and instinctively his muscles tensed, whipping his head to watch Xaviera. Something wasn’t right. A man appeared behind her. The wolfs eyes were dark, and sharp as the man grabbed her. His prey was slammed against the truck forcefully and she screamed in pain, that was a sound only the wolf wanted to make her make. No one else. She was his.

The wolf stood tall, imposing and threatening. Stalking through the bushes he heard the man talking to her but it was muffled by the blood rushing and the heart that pounded strongly within the wolf. A harsh breath left her sweet mouth as the man kicked her in the ribs. His jaw tensed, muscles flexed and contorted. Each footstep his anger grew and the snow seemed to melt under his fiery path.

This was the man from the special unit force Andrei knew well. Another shriek of pain cut through his ears as the man harshly pressed a boot on her ankle. His prey with downed and the wolf was going to take what was his. The sight of blood in the snow and dripping down his prey fueled the fire beneath the skin. He couldn't hold back the wolf any longer from its true power. It was over. Andrei was gone.

"... I know what you might be useful for" The man was on top of her now, speaking confidently, the prey cried as his disgusting hands ran along her thighs. Along his prey. She reared her head back looking to scream but there was no need, the wolf knew what to do. She was his.

The wolf lunged. Full power of broad shoulders and hard muscles. Teeth bared and claws out he tackled him off her. The man got to his feet but the wolf had power and speed, thrusting a hard fist right into his nose with a crack. The blood poured but it wasn't enough. He stepped onto his territory. Pulling the knife from his holster as the man stumbled back, the wolf stabbed into the flesh with a squelch, and twisted knife sadistically in the thigh wanting to hear the scream of pain. His desire still burned as the man dropped into the snow and the Russian pulled out the blade. He admired the oozing and flowing of the blood.

He wasn't done. He needed want was his. Towering above the man he kneeled on him, pressing his knee onto the delicate ribcage that seemed to crack with ease. The noise made goosebumps form along his skin as his large rough hands pressed around the man's throat. Squeezing and waiting.

Wait.... Wait for it.... Be grateful for the hunt... Wait for the end... It will come... It always does...

The man beneath him thrashed and writhed. Gasping and clawing. Managing to push the wolfs mask down only to have him mimic the teeth pattern. A full snarl infusing fear into the man's heart. The wolf could see it in his eyes. The precious tender fear, he was a master of. He was close. So close to the end as the prey stopped his attempt at life and accepted his death in between the jaws of the wolf. The last look was ecstasy. A sweet and yet bitter taste on his tongue as the soul departed beneath the wolf. He was gone. He took what was his in the snow.

As the pluse under his claws went flat, the attention was put on his other prey. His different type of prey. Dark eyes met her wide icy blues. Andrei was screaming not to dare to touch her but the wolf wanted more. Needed more. The prey swallowed down roughly, breathing slowly as the wolf was hunched and teeth were displayed. She didn't move. A smart one. He wanted to devour her fear but he pulled away and placed his attention back the corpse beneath him.

He wasn't done.

He came into his world and touched what was his. Spilled the blood that was his. He wanted more.

Standing, the wolf towered, large and strong he dragged the body away. Taking his kill how and where he wanted, and stalked into the snowy forest. His rage carrying the wolf where it pleased.

Seeing a strong, sharp broken branch on a pine tree, it seemed to suit the wolfs fancy. Lifting the man with ease and impaling him on the branch in a show of pure raw strength. In an animalistic urge he needed to see everything, hear everything and smell everything. The wolf stripped the prey as he hung. Checking for weapons and ammo that would please him.

The hot blood still oozing from his thigh, the desire ached for more. The wolf grabbed his blade again from his vest and in a swift motion he stabbed the prey in his chest, right in the middle and pulled down strongly to his navel. The hot crimson spraying on the wolf, he tasted it, savoring it sickly as he took the knife out. Intestines fell and melted the snow at his feet. The white ice turned a deep scarlet as the night fell. The metallic smell assaulted the wolfs senses, feeding every desire perfectly. He was grateful for this hunt tonight. He could do as he pleased.

With 2 hands the wolf tore the preys torso open, the sound of squelching entrails and flesh ripped through the forest, signaling the ravens to move in around him. With a thick hand the wolf reached inside the lifeless body, reaching the spine slowly and twisting, ripping it out as the body swayed. The wolf had taken what he wanted. He took rapaciously what he thought desvered with out mercy. Protecting what was his.

Breathe... Be grateful for this hunt.... you took what you wanted.... Breathe... The world made you this way... Breathe..

A sick snarl left his lips graciously as he looked at what he did. Turning to walk away the wolf nipped at his neck one last time and he turned, whipping his knife out and brutally decapitated the prey. The body mangled and wicked left in the snow for the scavengers to eat. He had taken what was his.

The blood was thick on his coat as he marched along the snow path, marching to the cottage, a siren song calling him back, her name in his head over and over again. The wolfs eyes sharp and dangerous as he set his sets on the cottage, warm light looming in the dark cold forest. The blood steamed and billowed around him. The wolf had a hunger. Only one could fill. The trail of scarlet dripped from his canines and claws, melting in the footsteps behind him.

The wolfs weight creaked along the front steps and he slammed the door open. There she was. He's final feast for the night.

"Andrei?" The prey asked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, she stood there as he licked the blood from his canines.

She was wearing nothing but his shirt. His smell imprinting on that beautiful flesh. The wolf growled deep and low, seeing her bruises. They weren't his bruises, not his marks. He needed her. To make her his again. A carnal desire burned in his core. This would be a different hunt. A different end.

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Seventeen - One Guest Too Many

Author's note: If you haven't read it already, I invite you to read my Halloween Ficlet: His Worst Nightmare. It has insight into what is about to happen in this chapter, and it will make it richer. I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Victor stroked his sleeping son’s curls before turning off the light. It was expected that Owen wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, he had been running around all afternoon, playing soccer with his father. With a chuckle, Victor closed Owen’s bedroom door and walked to the living room, where his wife waited for him.

He admired her from the doorframe, sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed on the upholstery as she minded her phone. For years, he had given up on his dream of building a home, resigned to a seemingly certain fate of solitude. He still couldn’t believe that this was his reality now. He was a husband and a father, he shared his bed and played soccer in the park, he had Valentine’s Day dinners and teacher-parent meetings. He was so happy that sometimes it was hard to keep his calm and collected demeanor. It was like he could burst at his seams at any moment, and laugh until he cried.

His heart jumped with joy when the love of his life turned to him, welcoming him with a warm smile.

“He’s sleeping?”

“Yes.” He smiled back. “Didn’t even stir when I went to check on him.”

He sat beside her, pulling her feet onto his lap, taking the phone from his pocket.

“Alright, let’s get this done.” He gently squeezed her toes.

“Ready when you are.” Andrea showed him her schedule on her phone.

There had been a slight change in their Sunday evening, one that was of the utmost importance. Between LFG and LCG affairs, and the duties they entailed, it was essential that they coordinate their schedules, so at least one of them could attend to Owen at all times and they had some free time on the weekends. It was a delicate dance, oftentimes almost impossible to execute, but they would always find a way.

“Alright.” He focused on his screen. “At 7 pm tomorrow, dinner with the partners from London.”

“On my schedule.” She nodded, grimacing after, as she remembered something. “Damn it, we need to find a babysitter. Do you think we could leave Bug with Goldman?”

Victor smirked. Of course he had thought of that already, who did she think he was?

“Goldman is available, I already confirmed with him. He’ll take Owen.” Victor swiped again on his phone. “Tuesday. I can pick up Owen from school and make dinner. I have nothing past 6 pm.”

“Actually, we should go shopping to get some clothes for him. We could go pick him up together and head to the mall, maybe have dinner there?”

“Didn’t you tell me you had to go to the University on Tuesday?” He checked on his phone, wondering if he had missed it.

“I had to reschedule for Friday, Olive will be away on a business trip on Tuesday.”

“You’ll have to reschedule.” Victor responded tentatively, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset.

“You’re busy?” She checked her phone.

“I am.” He nodded, preparing himself for a reaction. “And so are you. Mia invited us for dinner on Friday.”

“Ugh.” She complained, rubbing her forehead. “Why?”

“Andrea.” He tried to appease her.

“Oh please, you know she just wants to ask one of us for an interview or a photo shoot.” She removed her feet from his lap in protest. “We don’t have time for anything else, but we have for this?”

“She keeps inviting us and I keep refusing. I couldn’t say no again. Besides, if a certain someone would update her schedule when she knows she will be busy, none of this would’ve happened.” He scolded.

“Friday is still not good for me.” She glared at him.

“You were the one who agreed to a double date with them on our wedding day. I thought you wanted this. You still don’t like her?”

“I don’t not like her.” She sighed. “I just don’t like like her. But that’s not the point anyway, I can’t do it on Friday.”

Victor paused for a moment, assessing the situation. Despite what he had thought, Andrea was still having a hard time fully accepting his past, and even after marrying him, there seemed to be something that was making her jealous. That, Victor simply could not have. He had to show his wife the truth, that she was the only woman for him, and the best way to do it was to get them both together. Now, more than ever, it was important that they went.

“Ok, then.” Victor sat back with a smirk. “Since you are unavailable, you should call her and cancel. I’m sure she will understand.”

Andrea froze, staring at him, not expecting his move. Andrea could be many things, but she wasn’t impolite, and Mia would insist enough for her to say yes. She was relying on Victor to be the villain and refuse since she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it herself.

“Maybe you could do it.” She practically batted her eyelids at him. “She talked to you first.”

“Aren’t you the busy one?” He lifted a brow at her. “Don’t expect me to do your dirty work.”

“You received her invitation, not me.” She ran her hand across his chest slowly, knowing how it would affect him. “I think you-”

“Nope.” It took all his strength to resist her, as her touch was enough to cloud his judgment and make him cave. “If you are the one who can’t make it, you should be the one to tell her.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and sighed, defeated.

“Fine, we’re going then.” She sat straight on the sofa. “She’s going to make me agree anyway, may as well save me the trouble.”

“Excellent.” Victor pulled her to his lap, craving more of her. “Now that that is settled, we can spend time on other activities.”

“And for the record… Mmm.” She moaned as Victor pulled her even closer, his lips tracing her jaw. “I did not agree to go on a double date.”

“Yes, you did.” He spoke with his lips still pressed on her skin, busy tasting her. “We should have a double date.” He teased, mimicking her voice. “Ignore what Victor says about your food, we can cook together.”

“That does sound like something I would say.” Her fingers ran through his hair, sending ripples of pleasure down his spine. “Although I do not sound like that.”

“You don’t.” A wicked smile widened on his face, as he buried it in the nape of her neck. “You sound shorter.”

“I beg your pardon?!” She pulled away with a gasp.

Victor, however, knew his wife better than anyone and was quick to react. He took her in a hungry kiss, deeply and greedily, his body aching for her, his erection pressing against the fabric of his sweat pants. By the time they broke the kiss, both panting and drunken with lust, she had long forgotten what she was supposed to be upset about.

Not wasting any time, he took his love in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, ready to show her how special she was to him, ending their weekend on a perfect note.

His wife complained during the week about the mountain of emails Mia had sent her, excited about their night together. They had agreed to cook together that evening, partly to bond, partly to spite him, so they regularly traded recipes, deciding on one that could fit everyone’s taste. Unsurprisingly, Victor was on dessert duty and was asked to bring pudding.

Victor watched his wife as they took the elevator to Mia’s apartment, her eyes slightly shiny from exhaustion, yet an honest smile on her face. She had had a terrible week and somehow managed to sleep even less than him, so he figured at this point she was actually welcoming a moment of relaxation with friends, even if it was with Mia.

Naturally, Mia had to almost ruin it all the moment she opened the door. She was so excited she almost tackled Andrea to the ground with a hug, if not for Victor’s vigilant hand.

“Watch it, dummy.” He scolded. “I want to leave here with my wife in one piece, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m so sorry, Andrea.” Mia clumsily brushed his wife’s clothes with her hands. “I’m just so happy to see you here.”

Victor glanced at his son, whose eyes were wide in horror.

“You must be Owen!” She beamed at him. “My name is Mia, how are you?”

“Hi, pleased to meet you.” He quickly extended his hand to shake hers, before she got any ideas about hugging him as well. Smart boy.

“You are your father’s son, so polite!” She entered the apartment, inviting them in. “Did you bring the goods?” Mia glanced at the bags Andrea was holding.

“Don’t worry, I got your stash.” She chuckled, handing her one of the bags.

“It’s pudding, not heroin.” Victor scoffed, as he took his son’s coat off.

“It might as well have heroin, it’s so addictive.” Mia peeked inside the bag. “Come in, Gavin is in the kitchen preparing some ingredients.”

The last time he had been in Mia’s apartment was when he brought her home from the hospital, after the Blackout and the Queen’s death. He had laid her in bed, tucked her in, telling her to rest, and cooked her lunch, leaving her kitchen spotless afterwards. As he had navigated the foreign stove and cabinets, taking and putting back ingredients and utensils, he was confident they had a chance, and he would fight for it. His joy, however, had a bittersweet taste, like he had lost something significant that day, although he didn’t know what. There was a feeling of longing and sadness eating at him, one that not even the thought of finally having a relationship with Mia could fill. As usual, he had shoved it aside, like he did with most of his feelings, focusing on the present moment.

In hindsight, maybe he knew he was so tired of being lonely that he was mistaking things. Maybe he knew he didn’t love her. When she handed him the wedding invitation, it was a blow, but not as deadly as he thought it would be. And when he met his wife, in that beautiful teal dress, with that distracting peacock on her wrist, he knew right away that he had finally found out what love felt like, and he was never able to let go. Andrea needed to know that, like she knew the sun was hot - without a shadow of a doubt.

They found Gavin chopping onions at the counter, an English Springer Spaniel at his feet, keeping him company. Owen immediately became fascinated with the opportunity of making a canine friend.

“Can I pet him?” He completely ignored Gavin’s attempt to greet him.

“Yes, he is friendly.” Gavin looked at him with sweet eyes. “Scratch his ears, he likes that.”

“What’s his name?” Owen did as suggested, giggling when the dog turned his head slightly, to fully enjoy the gesture.

“Flyer.” Mia chimed in. “You know, he used to be a police dog. We took him home when he became too old to do the job.”

“He used to chase criminals?” Owen became even more excited.

Victor saw himself years ago, making soup in that kitchen, alone with his thoughts, and looked at his wife, watching over his son, eyes trained on him and the dog’s reaction. His heart beat faster, bringing light to a truth: the feelings of longing and loss had vanished the moment he laid eyes on Andrea. She was his destiny, he was certain of that. He came behind her, gently wrapping her hand with his, as a silent thank you

“He caught a lot of criminals in his day.” Gavin took him away from his thoughts, still talking about his pet. “He also has a good nose for drugs, that was his job for quite a while.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t let him smell my dad’s pudding.” Owen spoke in all seriousness, making them all laugh.

“Ok, we need to start dinner.” Mia turned to the boy. “Owen, would you like to watch cartoons with Flyer, while we cook dinner? Or would you rather stay here with us?”

“Can I watch cartoons, please?” Owen asked. Andrea seemed hesitant.

“Don’t worry. Flyer will take good care of him, won’t you boy?” Gavin ran his fingers through the dog’s soft brown and white coat. “And he’s just in the next room, we’ll hear him if he needs us.”

“Behave.” Victor stroked his son’s curls before he left for the living room, the dog right behind him.

“Aw, you’re a dad.” Mia cooed at Victor.

“I am.“ Victor smiled, pulling his wife to his side, his hand caressing her back. “So, I was promised a meal. Do I have to make it myself?” He teased.

“Oh no, today I will make you swallow your bitter words with my cooking abilities.” Mia lifted her chin. “You just stay there, enjoying your wine and the show.” Mia took a pan out of her cupboard, showing it to his wife. "Andrea and I will cook dinner.”

Victor had to admit, it was quite the show. A horror movie, to be exact. Some things did never change, and Mia in the kitchen was one of them. If not for his and Andrea’s watchful eye, she would’ve set the kitchen on fire at least three times. Victor was antsy on his seat, seeing her almost make all kinds of mistakes, aching to take over, but since Mia had decided he wouldn’t touch the food unless it was to eat it, he couldn’t help but sit idly watching his wife cook and stop every one of Mia’s attempts to kill them all. So much for showing her cooking prowess. At least she was wise enough to ask Andrea to participate.

“How are you still alive? Or your husband?” Victor scolded.

“Well, it’s a new recipe.” Mia pouted. “Everyone has troubles when cooking something new.”

“Just sit here and watch while Andrea does it.” Victor sighed, annoyed. “Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

“I definitely can learn a lot.” Mia laughed nervously, taking a pen and paper to take notes. “This way is probably better.”

“Safer is what you mean.” Victor continued. “Although I have to say, if there is anyone here who can think of a way of accidentally killing someone with a pen, it’s you.”

“Come on, she was not that bad!” Andrea smiled at Mia. “In any case, be careful with my husband. I need to take him home in one piece, or they won’t give me back my deposit.”

“I should be the one concerned here!” Mia laughed, then turning to Victor. “Do you remember how we first met? You hit me with your ball! You’re the dangerous one.”

“I hit you with a ball because a certain dummy didn’t know any better than to get out of the way.” He calmly retorted.

“It was your lousy aim!” She argued. “You made me pudding the next day, remember? I still have your bowl!” Turning to the cupboard,she took something from it. “Here! My souvenir.”

Victor’s mind went back to his childhood as he saw the old bowl. He remembered his child self, always acting strong and logical, when inside he was fragile and hungry for affection. If he could travel back in time again he would go to that boy and tell him that despite what was still ahead, he would be alright.

“You kept it all this time?” His voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Of course.” Mia replied, her voice shaky.

Gavin cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. Victor raised his eyes to meet his wife’s, finding them shiny and sad. She was getting it all wrong. He was moved, yes, but not because he was reminiscing on some sweet memory. It was because he could see how far he had come, and how blessed he was now. It was not because of Mia, it was because of her.

“This has to be a record for you.” Victor changed his tone to a mocking one. “You kept something for over twenty years and didn’t break it.”

“Dinner is almost ready.” Gavin declared, probably more because he wanted to change the subject than the urgency of the food being served. “I’ll go set the table.”

“Help Andrea, I’ll go.” Mia got up from her seat, heading for the living room.

“It’s alright, I’ll help Andrea.” Victor got up from his seat.

When they were finally alone, he then turned to his wife, his arm wrapping around her waist, his hand cupping her cheek lovingly, making her face him.

“Don’t entertain silly ideas in your head.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“I’m yours.” He looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the truth in his.

She stood silent for a moment, staring back at him.

“Hey, what are you people waiting for?” Mia called from the living room. “The table is set.”

After some good food and some good wine, Andrea’s light seemed to shine a little brighter, carefree, bantering and laughing.

“Did I tell you already how much I love your dog?” She smiled. “Look at him, watching over Owen. It’s adorable.” She gazed lovingly at their son, who had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner.

“Alright, who wants a final drink?” Mia spoke, bringing a tray with several liqueur bottles.

“As long as you don’t spill it on me, like you almost did with the wine.” Victor retorted.

“Please, even if I ruin your black shirt, you have hundreds of them.” Mia swatted at him.

Before Victor could argue, Andrea jumped in, all excited.

“Wait, wait! I know this one!” She raised her hand playfully. “I have been extensively educated on the subject of black shirts, I have been preparing for this moment for two years now.”

Victor remembered all the lectures he had given his wife when she said he “looked like he always wore the same shirt.” That was her chance for retaliation. He braced himself for impact.

“Apparently they all look alike but they are all different.” His wife continued. “There are many shades of black. For example, I would say this one is closer to coal than pitch black, but Victor has shirts in other tones, like jet black, onyx or raven. Also, the collars differ, there is the classic, the button down, the pinned, and my favorite, the mandarin. The fabric is also different, there is Oxford cloth, Pinpoint Oxford, Royal Oxford, among other material and finishing touches. They can also have different buttons, different cuffs, you name it. Victor has many black shirts, but I can guarantee you there aren’t two alike.”

Victor was stunned. To be honest, he never thought she had heard his explanation on the matter, she would always glare at him with half hooded eyes, like she was bored to death. But she did. Moreover, she apparently memorized it.

“Surprised?” She gave him a sly smile. “So what’s my grade, Teacher Victor?”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. Under the table, he took her hand, tracing on her palm A+.

“Wow, Victor seems impressed! That’s not a common feat!” Mia took a sip of her drink. “You are truly made for each other. I’m honestly glad everything ended well and not in bloody tragedy.”

“What do you mean, bloody tragedy?” Andrea frowned.

There was a moment of silence in the kitchen. Gavin glared at Mia.

“They need to know.” Mia turned to Gavin, in all seriousness.

“Need to know what?” Victor asked.

Another long pause. The hosting couple looked down.

“Mia.” Victor warned, starting to lose his patience.

“Ok… So… Something happened at your wedding.” Mia started. “The reason why I pulled you into the house before the reception… was because there was someone with a gun trying to hurt you.”

“Wait, what?” Andrea was stunned. “Who?”

Mia took a deep breath.

“It was Daniel, Andrea. I saw him on top of a tree, rifle in hand. He was trying to kill you.”

Andrea looked at Mia with wide eyes, the words still sinking in her. Victor, on the other hand, was livid.

“Daniel was at my wedding?” Victor snapped, enraged. “How am I only knowing of this-”

He was interrupted by a sudden movement in his peripheral vision. Andrea had doubled over, spilling the contents of her stomach all over Mia’s floor.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked his still fairly pale wife while they were driving home. “Let me know if you need me to pull over.”

“I’m fine.” She croaked. “Is Owen-”

“He’s asleep.” Victor assured her.

“Did Gavin explain how it happened, how he…” Andrea shook her head in disbelief. “How did he get in there in the first place?”

It was his fault. He was careless. He let his guard down.

“I will speak to Gavin later. Don’t be afraid, I will not let him hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid.” Andrea’s anger seeped through her voice. “I’m infuriated. I’m tired of people always thinking they can take whatever they want.” She looked Victor in the eyes, her lip quivering. “I’m sick of being bullied.”

Victor’s jaw clenched so hard that his teeth hurt. He was careless, he had let himself entertain with his happiness, letting his guard down. He was an idiot for believing the world would let him catch a break. And if not for Mia and Gavin, he would have paid a painful price: he would have lost what he treasured the most.

He clenched the steering wheel hard, vowing to himself never to make the same mistake again. And Daniel would be punished for all the pain that he caused, and curse the day he laid a hand on Victor’s precious Light.

[xmonstermashx]

So, I've never published any of my stuff before. Definitely haven't posted anything on here. So um... yeah.... shout out to my girl @Lia_in_bloom on Twitter lol

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Warnings, some violence, probably cussing, fluff?, cops lol. No smut yet... thats to come. 2,575 word count.

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The Sound of the Siren series.

A poly Cashton work.

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Mia could hear the heavy footsteps behind her. They made a thunderous pounding against the wet concrete that competed with the thunder and lightning above and the pounding in her chest. Her short stature didn't help with her pulling any further away from the devil at her back. Regret setting in with her decision to stay late at the record store doing inventory and not taking a cab home.

The rain began to fall down in harder sheets of cold, drowning out the steps behind her. Too scared to risk turning around and coming face to face with whoever was in her heels. Three. Just three more blocks and she'd be home. She repeated the number in her head like a mantra hoping it would ease the panic she felt in her bones.

Two. The closer her legs carried her, the faster she tried to push them. Shaking hands gripping the strap of the messenger bag that bounced off the backs of her thighs with each hurried step. She knew once she rounded the corner she'd have 1 more block and shed also be able to see her house come into view.

10 more steps. Just 10 more steps till 1 block left, she thought, as she pushed her rain speckled glasses up her nose.

She wasn't expecting arms to wrap tightly around her chest and arms. The hot breath brushed against her cheek reeked of garbage and rot. Fear paralyzing her movements and voice. The knife laid against her throat, glinting under the streetlight.

A voice following, low and hoarse in her ear. "Come on girly, hand over all your cash and jewelry."

Too scared to start moving only earned Mia a fist to her mouth, instantly splitting it open. Growing impatient, the man started to grab her bag. She felt the impact of the ground, her face scraping the gravel. Only just registering she was knocked down, when a steel toe boot made contact with her ribs. A painful groan escaping her mouth as she received another... and another. All she could do was whimper in pain as she lay limp and watched a violent stranger retrieve her bag from around her body.

She felt helpless laying there in a pathetic heap as she watched the man rummage through her bag with little care about the battered person who lay at his feet. The space quiet except for the sound of the rustling of her belongings in the hands of the man, her labored breathing and the nightly sounds of the neighborhood. Having scavenged what he deemedworthy of taking, the criminal tossed aside the bag and its remaining contents. It landed inches in front of her bleeding face.

In her dazed state, she watched as stray coins rolled away as the sound of loud clunky footsteps retreated, leaving her ro lay there, trying to regain her senses. Slowly, she readjusted into a sitting position despite the pain and her beaten body protesting against it.

Shaken, she sat there, clutching her knees to her chest. It felt like hours, but was closer to a few minutes, before she fumbled in her pocket for her phone. With numb fingers, she called 911.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was nearing the end of their shift, and Calum ran his hands over his face. He didn't mind working graveyard, but on slow nights like tonight, it drug on and idleness increased his tiredness. But, he was thankful his best friend was his partner on the job. He was about to ask Ashton where he wanted to grab breakfast when the dispatcher keying the radio broke the silence first.

"Unit 13 what's your 20?"

Grabbing the mic, Ashton brought it to his mouth. "Dispatch we are over on Meadowview Drive."

"Need you to head over to the corner of Elm Street and Fleet Street. We have a possible 211 and 240. Female victim."

Ashton glanced over at Calum as he shifted into gear. "10-4. Unit 13 enroute."

In less than a minute, the duo reached the location and watched as a small bundle came into view. The windshield wipers, beating a steady rhythm, making it possible to see the figure through the wet glass. There on the sidewalk, sat a girl, looking almost unaware of the rain soaking her clothes. They could barely make out the trace of the mascara running behind her glasses, down her cheeks.

Calum could hear Ashton mutter a "Fuck." Under his breath. They had been on the force long enough to know every possible reason as to why they could have been called in. Though they were generally pretty tame, they'd seen their fair share of brutal cases to know the streets, no matter how safe, were not kind to women who found themselves alone at night. For the girls sake, they sincerely hoped it was a minor case but they wouldn't know until they stepped out.

"You've got to be kidding me. Ash, pop the trunk." Calum said as he opened the door and headed to the back of their patrol car to grab a blanket. His eyes rarely leaving the girl curled up on herself, soaking wet and shaking.

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What felt like an eternity sitting there, so close to the comfort and safety of her home, yet so far. She had considered simply getting up and walking home during her wake, but the thought of moving even an inch made her body freeze up. She was shivering despite having gotten used to the cold water pelting down in her. Her entire being weighed down by soaked fabric and the events of the night. She didn't even notice the car pulling up and parking across her road. Despite having her mind empty of any thoughts, the shock making her look out into space in front of her as she waited for someone to arrive.

"Are you the one who called 911, miss?" Mias head jerked at the voice, startled she wasn't alone anymore.

The officer gave her a small smile, hinting at a dimple in his cheek, rain dripping off the brim of his hat. "Y-yes, I am."

"Ok, well, I'm officer Irwin. How about we get you warmed up a bit while we ask you some questions. How's that sound?" He offered her both his hands to help her to her feet, slightly raised eyebrows over his hazel eyes. He watched as she looked at him for a moment, clearly shaken and slightly hesitant. Her still sluggish mind attempting to register the fact he wasn't a threat.

Mia slowly slid her ice cold hands into his much larger warm ones. Her eyes going to the red and black ink dotting his forearms. His grasp releasing as soon as she was on her feet, beginning his trek back to the patrol car where she noticed another officer standing by the back door of their car waiting.

From a distance she picked up on his dark hair and tan skin, her glasses too fogged up from the rain to notice anything else until they were closer. He was tall and clearly trying to seem more unintimidating as possible, just like his partner, something she appreciated. Being near two uniformed strangers made her feel uneasy, even though she knew they were there to help and prevent anything else from happening to her.

Maybe it was the male presence, maybe if they were female she would be more at ease, though she doubted that. The night had amplified her anxious nature and sent her instinct to flee into a frenzy. She attempted to appear collected and took a deep breath. Counting every step she took in an effort to calm soothe her nerves.

As they got closer, the other officer draped a blanket over her shoulders, careful not to make contact as he did, and opened the back door for her. Mias eyes grew large as her gaze rapidly switched from one man to the other. "I-I'm not being arrested am I?"

"Oh, no. Just thought it'd be nice to warm up a bit and get you out of the rain while we talked." The officer with tattoos littering his dark tanned skin reassured her as his partner attempted to silently assess the visible damage. Whatever happened had clearly been bad enough to have her shaken like this.

Mia nodded her head as she dropped down onto the seat, looking down at her drenched converse as she rested them on the bottom of the door frame.

"How about we start with a name, huh? You already know officer Irwin. I'm officer Hood. What's yours?"

"Mia. Mia Gilmore." Calums heart sank as she looked up at him with sad, scared eyes. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she gnawed them, avoiding the side that was bloody and split. His protective nature making him want to take her glasses off, dry them and wipe the mascara off of her cheeks, rosy from the cold and damp and purple from the fresh bruise.

"Well, Mia. Tell us what happened. Why were you out so late by yourself?" She looked over at Ashton, the same small smile plastered on his face. In his hand he held a small notebook, pencil held, ready to write.

Rubbing her nose with the back of her blanket covered hand, Mia turned her gaze towards Ashton once more. "I was just coming home from work. I'm an idiot and stayed late. I just wanted to finish inventory so I wouldn't have to do it in the morning."

Ashton saw her bottom lip start to tremble, and his smile almost faltered. Looking down at the girl in front of him, looking so frail and shaken, made his heart clench. It wasn't the for or the last time dealing with a situation like this , but it made it no less frustrating. Especially when his mind unfortunately imagined his own sister being in a similar situation.

One of the main reasons he had become a cop was to make the streets safer for his family and cases like these, where the subject was close enough in age to invoke this heavy reminder, only fired him up even further to rid the world of as many criminals as possible. His blood boiled thinking of the scum who had hurt Mia running free as she looked up at him with big helpless eyes. She was too cute and innocent looking to be bruised and broken. If they found the low life who did this, the man wouldn't be walking away on his own.

Ashton watched as Calum crouched down in front of the girl, forearms leaning on his knees. "Hey, we're going to catch this guy, Mia. It's not your fault. It's his."

Mia sniffled and nodded her head as she looked up into Calums soft chocolatey eyes. The brim of his hat keeping the rain out of them. "Good. Now I know it's hard, but you have to tell us everything that happened. Did you see his face?"

Mia took a deep breath and nodded her head as she fidgeted with the blanket. "I don't know. He was in his 30s. He was like your height, maybe." She pointed to Calum, who nodded his head for her to continue.

Mia ran her finger over the split on her now sore lip. "He had a knife." She said as her eyes closed, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Is that how you got the cut on your lip?" Ashton was eyeing her lip, getting angry at the man he didn't even know. Criminals who hurt women, really anyone who hurt women, were at the top of his shit list. He already despised them to begin with.

Mia shook her head, her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail falling across her face. Calum had to fight the urge to tuck her black locks behind the pink shell of her ear.

"No, I got it when he hit me." She lifted her head and pointed to the nick on the pale skin of her neck. "This is from the knife"

Ashton and Calum inhaled deeply thru their noses and looked at each other. They silently agreed that if they ever found the man, he wouldn't leave on his own accord. One of the many things they agreed on was men like that were vermin and deserved a special place in hell

Calum looked back at her and gently asked her, "Can you tell us anything else that happened?"

"He tried to grab my bag, but it was over my body. He knocked me down and kicked me till he got it." The tears she had been forcing herself to not to shed, slowly slipped down her cheeks.

Calum got up and reached into the passenger door panel and grabbed a box of tissues and handed her one. Mia gave him a small smile of gratitude and he thought Heaven had opened up and let a child sing.

"He had on steel toe boots. I felt them." Mia said sadly as she wiped her nose with the tissue.

Ashton couldn't keep his eyes off of the girl in front of him. He'd never admit it, but his heart was breaking for the girl in front of them. Her clothes were ripped, she was bruised, wet and cold.

"How about we get you home. You can change and get some sleep and come into the station tomorrow and make a statement."

Mia let out a small sigh, her chest deflating as she stood up. She laid the blanket down on the seat behind her and turned around to two pairs of confused eyes. "Where do you think you're going?"

Looking up at Ashton just as confused. "Home."

Calum scoffed at her. "You really think we'd let you walk home after what happened?"

"Don't think so, missy. Hop in and point the way." Ashton shot at her as he headed to the drivers door.

"It's no problem really. I just live up the block..." Calum followed her gaze to a little beige house near the end of the block.

Mia climbed back into the car and sunk down into the warm back seat as Calum closed the door for her before getting in himself.

Calum shook his head realizing she was so close to home when she was attacked. She had sat there waiting for help all while looking at her safe, warm home. And that broke his heart for her even further. This should have been a safe zone for her.

Out of the pair of officers, he'd always been a tiny bit more invested in their cases than his partner. It was simply in his nature to empathize with their victims and want to help them in any way possible. It was his own motivation to catch the person in order to gain justice for those wronged. It was in his entire being ro worry for others yet, he didn't know why he felt so protective of her.

Maybe it was her innocent grey eyes behind her glasses that kept falling down her nose. It could have been her chubby cheeks he wanted to cup in his hands as he stroked her face. Was it because she barely even reached up to his chest? Whatever it was he knew he couldn't let her go anytime soon.

[haikyuu-scenarios-box]

Hi. I'm the anon who asked about au's. I'm just shy, so don't take offense my apology! You're great and friendly! I'd like a scenario request though! I've been into vampires since the Halloween season, and wanted to request one. A little late, but I guess any time is a good time, haha. I'd like it to be with Tsukishima being vampire and spending the night at his crushes house, and he ends up feeding on her in her sleep? You can do what you like with this idea! I'm very interested to see it!

A/N: omfggg i went so so overboard with this,, im just so damn weak for vampire!tsukishima. TW: blood obviously. Also, keep in mind that this request involves a character coming into the reader’s bedroom to p much prey on her while she’s asleep. There’s nothing sexual involved, but if you suspect that that type of scene may trigger you, then I suggest you either don’t read this or read at your own discretion. Ok?? ok,..,, you’ve been warned and you’re on your own now. Word count: 1,870 (lmao my bad)

UNDER THE CUT.

____________

His fingers were akin to glass; their delicacy threatened with a shatter as they brushed against the daisies. Traces of pollen were dusted along his palms, petals of ivory stroking the length of his legs. Sparse grass had buried itself into the folds that rested within his clothes, lightly pricking his skin. 

Discarding the vivid memory, Tsukishima recalled that he hadn’t seen the cottage by the meadow in over a century. 

To Tsukishima, those memories resembled scratched segments of dusty videocassettes. He remembered that he had a brother named Akiteru, a seamstress for a mother and a labourer for a father. Their faces, however, were permanently forgotten. It didn’t bother Tsukishima, though - he preferred it over death. If it weren’t for Yamaguchi turning him, he would have died following the pillage. 

Prior to meeting her, Tsukishima never kept track of time since he had all of eternity to live. In the past year, he’d grown attached enough to maintain his relationship with her, but not attached enough to risk getting his head severed from his body. Tsukishima planned to cut her out of his life soon.

‘Look at you all zoned out,’ she teased, ‘I didn’t take you for an art critic.’ 

‘You want a critique?’ Tsukishima sneered, ‘this painting’s really ugly.’

‘It’s not ugly!’ she exclaimed, ‘Ojiisan gave it to me. He bought it from an artist in Nagiso long ago.’ 

‘Well, he had awful taste,’ he knew that that wasn’t his real opinion. What else was he supposed to say, though? That the painting of a cottage by a meadow reminded him of his first home? That he was alive before her grandfather was? 

Of course not.

‘You have a lot of nerve saying that…’ she poked the bridge of Tsukishima’s glasses, ‘… when you’re the one who’s wearing those. Get nicer frames.’

‘I’m sorry I like to see,’ he sarcastically said with a smirk, ‘is this how you treat your guests?’

‘You’re the one who said my painting’s ugly,’ she shrugged, collapsing on the couch. ‘I think ojiisan said he met a vampire when he visited Nagiso.’ 

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Tsukishima sneered, joining her, ‘there’s barely any in Japan.’

‘Yes there is,’ she asserted, ‘they used to live savagely centuries ago, but they’ve integrated into human society.’

Tsukishima was almost taken aback. She was right - creatures of his kind still existed and they integrated well. Too well, to the point where they were widely considered to be an extinct being.

‘Let me guess, your ojiisan told you that,’ Tsukishima masked his surprise with a taunting tone, ‘do vampires also disappear in mirrors and wear black cloaks?’ 

She crossed her arms as she stuck her tongue out childishly, ‘Make fun of me all you want, but he said that he knew what he saw. A young woman in an alleyway,’ she shuddered, her spine graced by a shiver, ‘her fangs buried deeply within a mangled cat, slurping up all its blood.’

‘How scary,’ Tsukishima mocked, pretending as though he hadn’t done such a thing. He was repulsed at the idea of feeding on animals, but centuries ago, there were times where he found himself desperate. All he fed on nowadays were suicide victims beneath a nearby cliff and from blood banks. Yamaguchi did the same.

‘Whatever,’ she stood up, stretching her arms out with a yawn, ‘don’t come crying to me if you ever do come across a vampire.’ 

‘Because in that situation, I’d definitely come to you,’ Tsukishima sarcastically remarked, ‘I’d feel safe with your wooden stake and silver.’

‘You realise I can make you sleep on the couch instead of the guest bedroom, right?’

____________

Every attempt he made to quiet his mind had failed; it descended, further, further and further into an obsession with the possibility that a long blade would soon sever his head. 

Tsukishima was never aware that she possessed any knowledge about his kind. Vampires became less of a reality and more of an old tale. Not many knew that they ate human food, drank human drinks - the only difference was that it was all tasteless and that his nutrition could only be obtained from fresh blood. Put simply, human foods were a useless filler. 

Although she didn’t mention it, Tsukishima believed it was likely that she was aware of that fact. As his pupils fixated themselves to the ceiling, a year was suddenly no longer a fleeting moment to him. A year’s worth of a close relationship with a human was a long time. Especially when the human belongs to the minority that believed that vampires still lived amongst them. 

Yamaguchi had warned him of this, urging him to recall when hiring vampire hunters was common practise, when suspected vampires (and any human who sheltered a vampire) were burned at the stake, begging for any form of mercy. 

Tsukishima began packing away the belongings he brought with him to her home, concluding that her memory of him had to turn into a mirage, just like the faces of his family. As he made his way out the guest bedroom, he realised how he loathed how fond he grew of her. Tsukishima wanted to fully remember the arch of her brows, the lashes that curved away from her waterline, the wit of her tongue, the outline of her lips.

He passed by her bedroom, knowing that he couldn’t rely on his memories. Eventually, the centuries to come would led them to disintegrate into ashes, where they will never arise again - memories bore no similarity to a phoenix.

Turning around, Tsukishima quietly placed his duffle bag on the floor and carefully opened the door. He was unsure as to whether he could remember her once he left - but he was confident that he wouldn’t forget the flavour her blood carried. 

Her body had already been lulled into a deep state of sleep - after all, Tsukishima possessed heightened senses and could hear her slow and rhythmic breathing. 

The emotional attachment Tsukishima held towards her was constantly denied by him, until he envisioned his pillow beside hers. He falsely hoped to share that blanket with her for the nights to come, perhaps even bicker over blanket-stealing the following morning. Maybe she snored sometimes and he could tease her about it. Would they wake up at the same time, or would he wake up first? 

Tsukishima didn’t want those thoughts to exist anymore. He wanted them to burn with intense fury and relief; identical to the burning of suspected vampires centuries ago. 

She was already asleep on her side, her body facing the wall. Kneeling beside the double bed, Tsukishima warily placed a hand on her shoulder. The thumb of his other hand rested along the angle of her jaw, gently pushing her head further away from her neck. For a couple of seconds, Tsukishima merely stared at the skin he was about to pierce. She’ll keep him in mind while the marks scab over and bruise, but after that, she will forget about him; because he’ll be long gone by then. 

The longer his fangs grew, the more reluctant he became to bite into her. This wasn’t going to be the first time that Tsukishima fed on someone alive - there was a time when he was forced to do so. He knew his neck anatomy quite well, he wasn’t an idiot who recklessly bit into people and accidentally killed them.

Tsukishima’s felt the tip of his fangs touch her neck. This situation lacked any similarity to his past feedings on sleeping humans, for it was completely unrelated to survival. Rather, it was a feeble to cure his illness of melancholy; the fever that forced him to breathe the air that, to him, resembled the very salts of the ocean. Every inhale filled his lungs with blue hellfire.

That was what drove him to finally abandon his loyalty to cautiousness.

Tsukishima haphazardly sink his fangs into her neck, memorising the intensity of the iron. He knew that if he were to suddenly pull his head away in that moment, he’d rip her neck wide open. But he had to bite down with that much force. He had to remember her. 

As hot, thick scarlet slid down Tsukishima’s throat, he began to actually consider the consequences. With the mark, she’d easily have the power to report him. Although the probability of anyone believing her was slim, his actions were still creating the possibility of his death. For a mere second, Tsukishima even pictured himself turning her.

Once a low yelp was heard by Tsukishima’s hypersensitive ears, he rid his mind of those disorganised thoughts. He was sure that his absence of self-control had awakened her, yet he began to question whether he really was scared of getting killed. Tsukishima’s lived for centuries. He’d seen it all. 

With that realisation, Tsukishima strengthened his grip and pushed her head even further away from her neck. He noted that as his gulps turned longer and deeper, her whimpers grew louder and her knuckles curled themselves into the sheets.

When he finally pulled away, he watched her reluctantly place her fingers on the wound, smearing the bloody marks in the process. Tsukishima’s lips were still warm, a crimson trail slowly dripping down his chin. 

Tsukishima sat up, retracting his fangs back into his gums. He headed towards the door, wiping away the blood with the back of his hand. He forced the turmoil within his chest to be replaced with apathy, since he already knew the facial expression that will rest upon her face once she turned around - forehead wrinkled, eyebrows knitted, lip corners pulled downwards - sheer terror.

‘You…’ she trailed off, her voice uncertain, ‘… if you wanted to bite me that bad, you could have just asked.’

For the first time since Yamaguchi turned him, Tsukishima was the one stunned by a human. His eyelids drew themselves back slightly, his mouth agape with an intense confusion. Tsukishima didn’t want to look at her - he had no desire for her to see the breach of his facade. 

‘I already knew.’ 

After a long pause, Tsukishima snapped. ‘And you didn’t tell me,’ The apathy within his chest started to dissipate, an immeasurable confusion and fury settling in. ‘Instead, you decided to have a casual conversation with me about my kind.’ 

‘Kei,’ she said, ‘turn around and look me in the eye,’ she’d never used his first name before. He never did, either, although he always wished their relationship would reach a point where he could. 

Tsukishima obliged with her command. ‘You think I’m a fool, do you?’ his skin almost sizzled against his bones, overwhelmed by every form of hurt he’d experienced throughout the centuries. ‘All this time, you acted like you’re oblivious to what I am and spoke to me as though I’m a human.’

Mainly, it was the hurt that was buried within the sense of imminent loss.

‘Well, I’m not a human,’ Tsukishima revealed his fangs once more, clenching his teeth in anger, ‘and that means that I’ll kill you right now.’ 

‘You won’t,’ she said, her smile soft enough to be mistaken for a smirk. She was smug about the fact that her suspicion was true, though - this was Tsukishima’s crush, after all. 

She slowly stepped closer to him until she was able to firmly press her chest against his. Tenderly placing an open palm against Tsukishima’s cheek, the pad of her thumb gently stroked his cheekbone; an attempt to induce tranquillity within him. Once her gentle gesture ceased, she hooked an index finger underneath the fabric of her shirt, pulling it away from her neck to expose the bare skin of her shoulder.

‘Drink.’