#pulling him downto her

[everybodyloveshippos]

"You destroyed us, my young brother. Oh, worthless honor! And you would kill me. And I loved you.” 

“No,” Drizzt cried, falling to his knees in front of her and holding her closer—and trying to stem the flowing blood with his hands. “No!” 

“You cannot save me with your hands,” she whispered. “Swim upstream, brother. Unwind your heresy. Accept your fate . . .” 

[joeybsversion]

Like and Love

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and Reader have a competitive relationship

“Loser buys drinks for the rest of the night?” Joe pulls the smoky cigar from his mouth, passing a smirk your way.

The tiniest of smiles graced your face, “Considering I’m a struggling project manager and you’re a millionaire, that seems fair.” You tease.

“Hey now, don’t insult me. I’m a billionaire.” Joe corrects, popping the ‘B’. “But if you have no faith in your pool skills, we can call it off.” He tilts his head.

You rolled your eyes, hating this reverse psychology act he always tries to pull over on you, yet you fall for it every time. “I have plenty of faith in my ability to hit a few balls.” You lean over the pool table, lining your stick up with the cue ball.

Joe comes up beside you, his large hands resting on the edge of the table, he’s so close you can almost feel his breath down your neck as you stand back up, making your way to the opposite side of the table for your next shot.

“We have a little pool shark on our hands!” Joe’s teammate and best friend Sam Hubbard teases as he makes his way over to Joe. “Nice shot!” He high fives you.

Joe and the Bengals had just won the AFC championship and would be heading to the Super Bowl. You were out with the team celebrating at a bar in downtown Cincinnati.

“I’m just trying to boost her confidence before I destroy her on my next turn.” Joe proclaims, taking a sip of the drink Sam had just handed him.

His remarks earned a laugh from Sam, who quickly was distracted by the bartender bringing another round of drinks through the room.

“Hold this for me.” Joe hands you his drink as he lines up to take his next shot. “And get ready to go buy us a round.”

“I’m liking the confidence, Joey.” You giggle, taking a sip out of his cup watching as he completely misses his shot. “But your game could use some work.”

He rolls his eyes, nervously chewing on the end of his cigar, trying to decide what to say next as you strike the cue ball, making another shot.

“All that’s left is the 8 ball and I win. You better get your wallet out.” You tease.

Your chest is heaving as you nervously lean over and make the shot, you stand up excited, throwing both arms into the air as you win the game.

“Good thing you’re a billionaire, because I’m ordering the most expensive drink on the menu for the rest of the night.” You smile and turn around, heading towards the bar.

Joe grabs your arm, “Not so fast.” He stops you, turning your body back around to face him. “Best out of three.” His lips are so close to yours, you can practically taste the alcohol on his breath.

“Changing the rules after I win.” You tease. “You’re a sore loser.”

“I don’t lose.” He scoffs.

“Then what do you call whatever just happened?”

A mischievous smile came across his face, “Alternative,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “winning.”

You can’t help but giggle as he pulls away, “Get out of here with that nonsense.”

“So what do you say, best 2 out of 3?” He steps away to start preparing the table for another game.

“Bring it.” You smirk.

Drinks continue to flow for the rest of the night, into the early morning hours, and you continue to beat Joe at pool. He finally followed through on his end of the bet, buying you both a few rounds of drinks while you celebrate with the team.

Just as the sun starts to peak up over the city scape, Joe leads you hand in hand out of the bar as you both head outside to catch a ride.

“I had fun with you.” Joe peppers your face with kisses as you stand on the sidewalk waiting for your car.

“I had fun beating you.” You giggle, his kisses ticking your face and neck.

“It feels good to win, doesn’t it?” He smiles, thinking back to the game his team just won hours prior.

“The best.”

The car pulls up and Joe climbs in, drunkenly pulling you into his lap. You cling to him like he’s the only sense of security you’ve ever know, his hands furiously tracing up and down your sides.

Your apartment is a long way from downtown, making it a 40 minute ride home. Snuggled into Joe’s body, you feel yourself slowly drifting in and out of sleep, while Joe makes small talk with the driver.

“S’go inside.” He whispers, doing his best to wake you. He helps you from the car before thanking the driving and picking you up, carrying you inside.

“You’re so pretty.” He murmurs, hand smoothing over the back of your legs as he carries you. “I like you so much, and you smell so good, and I like when you’re competitive and beat me.”

You feel like you’re dreaming. “You’re drunk.” You mumble still half asleep.

“Uh-huh.” He sets you on your feet as you reach the bedroom, before guiding you towards the bed. “And I also like you so much. So much more than anyone.” He slurs. “I like you and I love you.”

[corner-stories]

ghost town + jeankasa please???

September Prompts 🌻

22. ghost town modern au kinda? also this is set in Toronto bc why not? Ontario deserves representation, too. (ao3.)

As she drives she keeps her phone in the cupholder — the bright red notification blaring on the screen, capital letters repeating the same message over and over until it's the only thing she can think about.

Her foot is firm on the pedal as she drives through what was once a vibrant city, now rendered into a ghost town. For once traffic in Toronto is sparse, but not for the reasons she would like it to be. She goes faster once she's on the 403, soon speeding across a highway that she's not used to seeing so empty. Static plays from the radio, a noise that grates against her ears yet she tolerates in the hopes of hearing another update.

Nothing changes by the time she arrives at Oakville. Undeterred, Mikasa parks the car on the street, steps out, and rushes straight into her apartment complex.

As she goes she gets a brief glimpse of the others on her street, a place that had grown so familiar to her over the years is now rendered uncanny in the absence of residents. Far off she swears she can see other people leaving their homes, bags slung over their shoulders as they hop into vehicles. She can already imagine a look of discomfort on their faces, anything to mask the terror of a scenario filled with so many unknowns.

What's happening? Why is it happening? How did it lead to this?

Those same questions run through Mikasa's head as she enters her building and dashes up the stairs. She gets to her apartment and knocks on the door hard enough for her knuckles to hurt.

"Jean?!"

Barely a second passes before she grabs her key and opens the door. Her apartment is quiet, an abode characterized by laminated wood and beige carpeting, but made more lively through the presence of plants and paintings, the smaller kinds that collect in the corners or on sections of the walls. She ignores it all as she heads to the bedroom.

She opens the door and a sigh of relief escapes her once she sees him there.

As to be expected Jean is asleep in their shared bed, tangled in the sheets and breathing slowly. He's a night owl by nature and under normal circumstances Mikasa would let him rest, but the fear rushing through her veins knows that it can't be. She steps over and kneels at his side of the mattress, shaking him awake with a sense of urgency.

"Jean? Jean!"

His eyes open abruptly and he takes a moment to blink before focusing on her.

"Mikasa? What's— oh."

She doesn't waste time — she tugs him by his shirt and pulls her close to him, holding him in the kind of hug where her head very perfectly fits against his shoulder. If not for his sake than for her own, and for the fact that all she needed to know was whether he was alive.

Jean hugs her back, though his gesture is more awkward and stilted. When they pull away the first thing Mikasa sees is the look of confusion in his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asks, obviously concerned.

Mikasa stands up. "You were really knocked out, weren't you? Check your phone."

As Jean reaches for the device on his night stand she goes to the dresser and cobbles together a quick outfit. She tosses the clothes on the bed and sees him eyeing his phone screen, a sense of terror slowly overcoming him as the details become clear. She's not sure which word in particular causes his skin to crawl — outbreak, evacuation, epidemic — but at least now he knows why she had returned home so quickly.

"How did I fucking sleep through this?" Jean says, running a hand through his messy hair.

"You tell me," Mikasa replies. "But we have to get to Brampton."

She leaves the bedroom and returns to the living room, where she goes to a closet and finds a backpack. As she rummages around the apartment for essentials to bring along — medication, identification, her late father's old wristwatch — she realizes that the fear that had permeated her on the drive from downtown is not completely gone. She tries to hold the feeling down as she slips an extra phone charger into her bag — she can't let it bother her, not here and not now. If not for herself, then for Jean — she can't lose him too.

[futures-tense]

Never to Part, Baby of Mine

Chapter 5/5 || wc: 2.1k || Total wc: 13.7k || ao3

**

“Okay, Soph,” TK sighs, twisting in his seat to look at her. “It’s been fun but you’ve got to go.”

She stares back, understanding exactly zero percent of what he’s said. Tk nods to himself and looks back at the building. Leaning out a to-go window, Carlos is smiling widely at a customer, looking unfairly good in the t-shirt and apron he’s wearing.

In and out, he reminds himself. Just drop Sophie off and go.

So with the baby on his hip and her bag over his shoulder, he goes inside the cafe. Sophie tries to wiggle out of his grip as soon as she sees Carlos.

“Oh, there she is!” Carlos grins, placing the tray he’s holding onto the counter to pick her up—and TK can’t help but notice how much better he looks up close.

In and out.

Carlos turns to him and his smile tightens. “Hey, TK.”

“Hey,” he replies softly. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Carlos nods, shortly. He hesitates then gestures to the baby bag. “Can I have that?”

TK raises his eyebrows then nods, “mhm, right, sorry.”

Carlos takes the bag and sets it on the table between them. “How was she?”

He meets TK’s eyes for the first time since he walked in and it takes him a minute to answer the question.

“Good, yeah, she was perfect as always.”

“Any new words?”

TK smiles a little. “Still no Carlos, huh? How’s it feel to be upstage by ‘giraffe’ and ‘hippo’?”

“Oh, so she can say Tyler?” Carlos teases and suddenly Tk wants nothing more than for Carlos to say his name again.

“No, but he can say TK and that’s what really matters.”

Carlos rolls his eyes.

Here’s the thing: TK knows there’s nothing he can do to salvage whatever they were. He went to New York. The way Carlos sees it, he got out of a situation he never wanted to be in in the first place. He’s flown down every Friday for the last three weeks to take Sophie for the weekend. Carlos told him he didn’t have to—he even tried to say he could live a “totally child-free life,” if he wanted.

He doesn’t.

Not to mention the fact that it means he gets to see Carlos.

But Carlos can’t know that.

“You really stopped the renovations,” TK observes, gesturing to the freshy patched up walls.

Carlos’ gaze lingers on him for a moment before he nods. “We were fine before; we’ll be fine now.”

“I don’t mind-“

“You’re not sending more money,” he says definitively. “Are you in town for long?”

“I was going to,” TK shrugs. “I had Thanksgiving plans but theey fell through.”

Carlos sits a little straighter. “Well, I’m having a thing at the house—you know, the whole crew. You should come.”

“Are you sure?” He shifts uncomfortably. They may be his friends too but something in him is screaming at him to run. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Be there.”

He hesitates then nods. “Okay.”

***

Is showing up a terrible idea? Probably, but TK can’t help it. He just wants one more chance to see Carlos before he has to go back to work.

In New York.

By himself.

He’s working out of the headquarters, coordinating teams of mental health professionals out of five different houses in two separate bouroughs. And he loves it, he loves the impact he’s making on the communities there.

But he works a desk job by himself—the only person he’d consider a friend is the girl at the coffee shop he goes to every morning who has asked for his number twice now. He’s getting bored and boredom leads down a dangerous path.

He runs a hand down his button downto smooth out any wrinkles just as Grace opens the door for him.

“Well, well, well,” she says a hand on her hip. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

He grins. “Hey, Grace.”

“What are you doing here?” She asks, pulling him into a hug. “I thought you were in New York.”

“I’m just here for a few days,” he says with a small shrug. “I mainly came for the food.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes him through the door. He smiles at Judd and Tommy.

“The prodigal son returns,” Tommy teases.

“Aw, you guys missed me that much?”

“No, we’re just glad you’re here for the last neighborhood gathering,” Nancy says simply. “With the house on sale and everything.”

TK freezes, halfway through taking his jacket off. “What?”

***

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The kitchen door slams closed as TK storms in. Carlos raises his eyebrows and turns to face him, abandoning the dish he’s working on.

“Tell you what?”

“You’re talking to realtors,” TK says bitterly and shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“Because you don’t live here,” Carlos says simply. “You live in New York now; where I live—”

“They wanted her to grow up here,” TK snaps, “in their house.”

“They wanted her to grow up with them,” Carlos says, calm as ever. “And that didn’t work. So they chose us. Their plans were never very solid, TK.”

“And selling the house is supposed to help with that?”

Carlos slams the spatula down on the countertop with a frustrated sigh. “I cannot afford to keep this house.”

“I can—“

“You are not sending more money, TK; I need to get out of here.” He shakes his head. “They gave us a baby. Giving the house up isn’t ruining their legacy or whatever.”

“So I don’t get a say in this?”

“No, because you left.” Carlos can feel the heat bubbling under his skin and he wants to be anywhere else. “Things got complicated and instead of fixing it, you ran. You’ve lost the right to decide what happens here.”

“My best friend just died,” TK scoffs. “My best friend died and left me with a baby and a house. I’m sorry that I was terrified.”

“You don’t think I was scared, too?” Carlos asks incredulously.

“It was easier for you,” TK reasons, “you’ve always wanted this.”

“Not the way I got it!” Carlos takes a step back and shakes his head. “And certainly not with someone who didn’t love me back.”

They both freeze for a moment then TK moves closer.

“But I did. And I still do.”

Carlos eyes him for a moment and shakes his head again. “No, you’re right. We were just pretending to be people we weren’t.”

“Carlos—”

“I think you should go.”

TK scoffs again and storms out, slamming the front door behind him. Grace pokes her head into the now open kitchen door.

“Hey,” she says carefully. “Everything okay?”

“How much did you guys hear?”

She grimaces a little. “The walls here are not that thick.”

***

The last one to leave the most awkward meal in human history is Grace. Judd nudged his wife’s arm and had said “we should be heading out.” But Grace shook her head and said “you go ahead.” Then she nodded to Carlos in a way that he can only describe as pity.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Carlos says now, as they package the leftovers. “I’m not going to combust or anything.”

“I know,” she nods. “But these people make quite the mess.” She slides a stack of dishes into the sink and turns to him.

He very pointedly ignores her gaze for a few moments until—

“Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“I’m not lookinng at you like anything.” He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Okay, maybe a little bit. But I guess I just don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“He told you he loves you.”

“He did.”

“And you let him walk away anyway?”

Carlos looks down at the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of him. “He’s his own person, I was never going to be able to make him stay.”

“But—“

“He left, Grace,” Carlos snaps. “He moved to New York and left me on my own.”

“And what if he was looking for a reason?”

***

Grace left about an hour ago. She offered to take Sophie for the night and Carlos let her. He’s been pacing the living room since.

He can’t decide if he wants Grace to be right or not.

Of course he wants TK to move back to Austin. But if she’s right, then it’s Carlos’ fault that he left in the first place.

Carlos will admit to it, he decides, if it means that TK will stay. He shoulder the weight of the mistake if it means TK will come home.

The realization hits him like a bag of bricks. The next thing he knows, he’s in his car halfway to the airport

***

There’s one direct flight from Austin, Texas to New York City, New York. The only reason he knows that’s the right flight is because TK had ranted about how much he hated layovers one night before he’d left the first time.

“What am I supposed to do for six hours in between flights? You can’t leave the airport because what if the flight leaves early and then you’re left in some strange city. And it’s not like they have a gym or something at the airport.”

The only way they’ll let Carlos past the gate is if he buys a ticket, so he does. Its to Seattle so he fully intends to return it. TK’s plane is set to leave in five minutes and Carlos can’t seem to get there fast enough.

He follows all the signs to the right terminal but when he gets to the right place, TK’s no where to be found.

Carlos smiles at the attendant by the door.

“Hi, um, is this this where we wait for the flight to New York?”

The attendant—Carrie, according to the nametag—gives him a pitying look. “I’m sorry but the New York flight boarded early. They took off about five minutes ago.”

***

Carlos might be sick. He grips the steering wheel tightly as he pulls into the Ryder’s driveway. Grace meets him on the doorstep with Sophie in her arms.

“So?” He can’t bring himself to respond but thats enough for her. “Oh, Carlos.”

He shakes his head, “I should get her home.”

“Are you okay?”

Carlos takes Sophie and shrugs. “If it wasn’t meant to happen, it’s…you know, it’s fine.”

Sophie, bless her, falls asleep on the thirty second drive home and is still asleep when Carlos gets her into the house. He closes the door behind him and when he looks up, everything stops.

TK is standing in the middle of the living room, wringing his hands in front of him.

“I-I never left my key. I forgot, sorry.” Carlos can’t do anything but stare at him which makes TK shift. “Look, I know, I was a dick, and I’m sorry but—“

“I need to put Sophie to bed.”

TK’s face falls a little but he nods. “No, yeah, of course. I’ll wait.”

Carlos watches him for a beat longer then starts up the stairs. With Sophie already asleep, the task doesn’t take as long as he had hoped. He takes his time going back downstairs, trying to craft a plan.

But when he sees TK, waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, every plan goes out the window.

“Carlos, I know you’re mad and I had no right to—“

TK cuts himself off with a surprised gasp as Carlos pulls him into a kiss. It takes him a moment but he melts into it, pulling Carlos closer by the hips.

“Wait, wait, wait,” TK says breathlessly. “What does this mean?”

“It means I want you to stay. I want to do this with someone who loves me back.”

TK nods slowly as a smile spreads across his face. “Then I guess I’m staying.”

***

6 months later

TK pokes his head into the kitchen. “Are you almost done? They’re getting restless.”

“What do you think?” Carlos holds up the plate. It has a small yellow cake on it, topped with the cutest duck TK’s ever seen.

“I love it,” he grins. “And you went less extravegant this year?”

Carlos smiles sheepishly moving over to a taller, more elaborate cake on the kitchen table.

“I should have known.”

“But, I have something else I want to show you.” Carlos holds out a box.

TK opens it to reveal a simple blue cake this time, a neat number 1 piped on top.

“It’s Sophie’s second birthday.”

“Yeah, I know,” Carlos shrugs. “But we’ve officially survived a year of her. I think that deserves a celebration.”

TK looks at him with that stupidly soft expression he loves and tugs Carlos into a soft kiss.

“I’m glad it was with you.”

[prismatica-the-strange]

I'm going to encourage you to write every one of the million scenarios with collar!Daniel. That one was... *fans self* (Please know when I sent the first one I was low key thinking of all the times he has his stupid hat around his neck and it looks like a 90s choker. Why is it so hot?!) (Also I appreciate the attempt at an edit!)

You and Daniel are horny and you decide to make that everyone else's problem.

18+!

Warnings: Smut!!! Handjob, blowjob,

Daniel turns into a completely different person when he puts that collar on, its like night and day

He normally only wears it at home, but you asked him to wear it at work once

"Be a good boy for me and I might let you fuck me when we get home, okay?"

He's completely breathless as he nods and you pull him in by the collar for a kiss

He's nervous to go to the SGC with it on because he has no idea how to explain it (if he were actually uncomfortable he would tell you)

"What's this about?" Cam would ask and just reach up and tug on it jokingly, not having any idea how that would affect him

He let's out a small squeak in response, face going red when Mitchell jumps back

"Damnit Jackson! This is a military base!"

As the day goes on he does start getting used to it and almost forgets it's there

Until he's talking with Teal'c and when you walk by you and hook your finger in the loop, pulling him down for a kiss

He doesn't move as he watches you walk away, and when he faces Teal'c again the jaffa has an eyebrow raised

"Shut up"

Vala finds the situation amusing to no end and spends most of her time teasing him

He expected this though, so he's not nearly as affected when she tugs on it

She's a little shocked when she walks into his lab at one point

You're leaning against his desk, lightly tracing the skin just above the collar and he's an absolute puddle at your feet

And the way he moans when you pull him towards you

"You must have a magic touch or something," she scoffs.

Daniel goes to pull away, grumbling, but your finger loosely in the ring stops him completely

"Something like that," you grin, kissing him lightly before getting back to your own lab

When you finally get to go home Daniel can't tell if he's excited or relieved

Then you push him against the car, tugging him downto meet your lips and he know he's excited

"You were a good boy, right?"

"Yes." He breathes.

"Good," you nip at his neck, "Get in."

He climbs into the passenger seat and tries to calm himself down, but as soon as you get off the base yous reach over the center console and start tugging at his zipper

He undoes his flie and pulls out his semi-hard dick, groaning when you lick your hand and wrap it around him

"Poor thing had to deal with all that teasing today," you pout as you start to pump him, feeling him get harder at your touch

He whines when you run your thumb over his tip before you remove your hand all together

You turn to him once you've parked in the apartment's parking garage

"Do you think you deserve this?"

His eyes go wide and he nods slightly

"Use your words"

"Yes please."

You smile and bend over the console, licking him from base to tip, before taking him in your mouth

He's panting as you bob your head and hollow your cheeks

You've been teasing him all day and it doesn't take long before he's gripping the door handle and asking you to cum

"Mhm," you hum and the vibrations send him over the edge

He can't stop himself from rocking into your mouth as he cums

Taglist: @mysg1spacemonkey @sgcprometheus @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @malcolm-reeds-pineapple @witching-things @reeseykins @abnormalvampire64 @girl-obsessed-with-things @gatez

Masterlist

[peinsmoi]

newborn ; at the devil’s bosom.

he let her feed off him on the very first night. he’d said, better my blood than having you spill some innocent one’s.’

chunghee had understood later on that it simply meant he did not want to be cleaning up after her. much later on, when she’d learned of the responsibility sires had towards their fledglings. by then though she’d stopped stumbling in the dark with a thirst that constantly had her throat dry the moment she could smell the taste of blood.

what had been the strangest at first was the way her senses felt solidified into one. from hearing, to smelling, to touching and seeing all combined themselves to enhance the only thing that would matter to her from then on. it all made it much harder to think about the rational, about how she truly did not want this. she did not want to be in a constant state of lust for something as foul as human blood. 

it had been a foolish battle for all but two nights. refusing his blood, refusing anyone’s blood at all, all of his offerings being left untouched. two nights of constantly telling herself she could live without. she could do without. if it had to kill her, then so be it. she shall die. she’d wanted death to be more real, less elusive. who cared for immortality when it was doomed to keep you captive to this insatiable thirst? 

not chunghee.

the third day had found her with the inside of her throat scorching, as if she’d been in the desert awaiting for the first sign of an oasis. her insides turned upside down, she’d puked. felt like she could have easily regurgitated her own intestines, it’d burned, whatever it was that had come out of her mouth. it hadn’t been human. it’d come out in waves, the color of blood mixed with something else. acidic. 

it’s poisoning you. her sire had been by her bed, holding the bucket by her bed and lightly brushing his fingers in her hair. soothing it all out of her, gentle to the touch. chunghee had known better then than to trust the gesture, kind as it’d felt. it’d been cold. so cold that even through the the crack of her own skin to the chills running through her veins she’d felt it sipped deeper than bones.

your denial will eventually kill you, if it is what you so much desire. 

she had truly desired it. 

her sire had departed a little afterwards. his words of caution had gone from one ear to the other, leaving a slowly decaying chunghee on the bed staring at the ceiling. knowing her purpose had been beheaded with the monstruosity she’d been forced to wear the skin of. 

she’d lied there for a long while, decidedly waiting for a knock at the door, for hell to swallow her whole. then a shadow had passed by her window. it’d been dark outside when she’d blinked and turned her head to see it pass by. chunghee had been unable to hear, or see, or feel anything else but the sudden beat of a heart. so loud and familiar.

she’d have recognized it anywhere even without the enhancement she’d felt evident in how fast she’d been out of her room. the lock had not resisted the pull she’d given it, she’d barely put any effort in it. her gaze had been razor sharp, she’d felt it within herself. that urge to kill. to feed. it hadn’t mattered that she’d known this scent, she’d known who she’d followed in the darkness.

awaiting for the right moment to feel her teeth--her teeth, grown canines that had felt the power they held the first time she bit in the wrist of her sire as he’d sat leisurely awaiting her thirst to subdue. he’d warned her ; eventually, the need will grow stronger than the mind. eventually, you will feel the need to kill to feed. will you pray for me to be there when that happens? 

chunghee had remained lips sealed for a week, she’d drank his blood. spat the rest of it when she’d felt better. even then, while she’d gorged herself on the thickness of it, she’d known, despite never having bitten through the veins of a human being. she’d known feeding off of human’s blood would be different. it would not leave her like a half empty glass.

if what she’d felt tailing the shadow to a secluded area, that pulse within her that went in tandem with their footsteps. with their heartbeat. when they’d swallowed and she’d done the same. when they’d stopped in their tracks and she’d done the same. when they’d squeezed their hands in a fist and chunghee had done the same.

she’d felt the trickle of blood between her fingers. the claws of her fingers had dug deeper than she’d expected, the pain had been akin to the feeling of  needle piercing through human skin. barely noticeable. not enough to pull her out of the preying trance she’d been laced in, not until she’d felt the pulse go frantic, panicked.

she’d tasted that before anything else ; fear.

it’d rolled off her skin, leaving shivers that had both stilled her and made her want to get to it. lick it off. bite it out of their throat. tear it right out of their heart. 

then chunghee had been scared of the images in her own head, a blur had been quick to take over her gaze. her mind had created  fog that had her sure she’d been screaming. a low guttural sound that had made the halted footsteps take off in the dark and left her behind to a pain. a pain so unbearable it had made her fall victim to gravity, knees on the ground, head in her hands. 

claws almost digging through her scalp, it’d burned. it’d dug its nails in her skull and refused, it’d refused to let go. it’d hurt so bad that she’d cried tears that had been nothing but larva down her cheeks. nothing had hurt as much as knowing that she did not want to die.

she didn’t. she didn’t want death. it had never been within her to see herself perish and fade from this world. she’d loved life, she’d loved it with all the strength she’d possessed from the first cry she’d given to this world. 

the world had then been quick to fade to black.  

chunghee had woken up the next morning with a woman kneeling by her bed, her robe opened downto her shoulder, her neck exposed. just like the other ones her sire had sent in her room two nights ago. chunghee had silently risen from her death bed and she’d silently gone through the motion much like a newborn would have taken its first milk from their mother’s breast. 

clumsily, a little too frantic, trying to find a calm way to get it done, but lacking in expertise and spilling most of it. hungry. starving. trying to feel that first sensation of being full and sated with a desperation that brought salty tears down to mix with the blood in her mouth. 

chunghee had closed her eyes, gripped the shoulders of the woman and she’d drank until her sire had softly ordered her to stop. that had been the first time she’d felt something close to being grateful for his presence. 

the first and last time. 

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Could anyone write what was after the bath / ring scene? What we did not see? I guess we need a little bit more details about that. Long description ...

"One hundred seventy four."

This time he bit the sensitive curve of her neck. She playfully swatted himaway.

"Over two hundred now, by my count."

He lifted up on his arms, just enough to narrow his eyes. "Fine. I supposethat means I'll have to start all over again."

She pulled him to her. Tasted his lips again, like it was the first time.

"I suppose so," she whispered against his mouth. "What apity."

--

"No, it would be at the very bottom."

Claire pulled the regrettably damp quilt tighter around her shoulders, watchinggooseflesh ripple across Jamie's naked legs and back as he dug in the chest fortheir one spare blanket.

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, throwing the green and whiteMacKenzie tartan over his shoulder. "Auntie Jocasta sent this in her lastparcel?"

Claire nodded, scooting over to make room for him on the bed. "I'msurprised she still had it. She hasn't been a MacKenzie for a long time."

Jamie snorted. "Ye ken as well as I do, Sassenach - she may be a Cameronthrice over, but she will be a MacKenzie 'til the day she dies."

On the way back he took a quick detour to the door - pulled off their pegs thefur wraps that had quickly become such key components of their outerwear thiswinter - and took his place at Claire's side. Gently he pushed the quilt downto her waist, helped her into the rabbit fur vest he had made for her, andwrapped his own mantle of raccoon and badger fur around his shiveringshoulders. She draped the tartan over their backs, cocooning them with warmth.

"I remember the only other time it's just been furs and a tartan forus," he whispered, voice low, eyes dark.

 “I do, too.”

She kissed him - two hundred and fifty six, by her count. Seeking and findinghis hand beneath the tartan. His thumb ran over her new ring.

"I don't need it. But I love it."

She watched his jaw flex.

"Do ye -" He swallowed. "I feel that here, tonight – in ourfirst home – everything is new again."

She twined their fingers together. So tight.

"In Edinburgh, you told me it had always been forever for you."

"Aye."

"You know I - I didn't feel exactly the same way then. On our first night.I still meant to leave."

He raised their joined hands from under the tartan. Kissed her ring. "Iken that. But it doesna matter now. You came back. Then - and now."

She pressed her lips together. "What I mean to say is - with this ring, I*want* to wear it. I didn't wait for you to put it on me – I wanted to put iton myself. Because I am choosing you - choosing this life. With everything Iknow now - even with all the pain and death and heartbreak - "

Tears shone in his eyes, so full of love. "You still make the samechoice."

She nodded. Heart too full for words.

Beneath the tartan, then, he pulled her to his lap. Kisses showering her facelike sacred rain.

--

Ice against her shoulder roused her from dreams of sunlight and crushed fernsand Jamie's musk.

She must have murmured something, for somewhere in the dark he called to her.

"*Seas, a nighean donn*. I am here. Just putting more logs on thefire."

And then he was back - pulling her to his chest, so warm. Lips against herhairline, her curls tickling his nose.

There in the dark, half asleep, so safe in his arms, words flowed unbidden fromher mind.

"Why did you offer yourself to John Grey?"

His hand, skimming across her back beneath the tartan, stilled. His other handdug into her side.

To question how she knew would be to insult her intelligence - and the trust heknew she had in him. For she did not ask him why he did not tell her - only, withher scientific mind, to know the truth.

"Did you feel it was the only thing you could offer him?"

Her thumb traced the contours of his collarbone - her (his) ring warm andsolid.

"When I was at Ardsmuir, one night we played chess. We began talking aboutthose we had lost at Culloden - I spoke of you, and he spoke of...he called Hecalled it a 'particular friend' he had lost."

Jamie swallowed. Claire kissed under his chin.

"That was the first night he made it very clear how he felt aboutme."

"The first?"

"It happened again, years later. I dinna care to think of it now. Becauseboth times I refused him. But then when I left Helwater..."

His pulse raced beneath her thumb. She pressed the ghost of the J he had carvedinto her against his own skin.

"I had to know he would care for Willie properly. That he would love himas his own, and raise him as I would, had I been able to."

"So it was as payment." Her hand soothed his flush.

"It was all I had."

"And had he said yes?"

The dampness on her cheeks was not her own. She kissed his tears, one by one.

"I have thought of it a thousand times. I would have killed him. Orperhaps I would have...let him have his way. Sometimes I want both."

"But it didn't happen." She kissed him long and slow. Only after along moment did he reciprocate.

"I didna have much of a heart left by that point," he whispered."I had lost you. Our bairns. And I was about to lose Willie, too. So Ithought, it wouldnae have mattered much. So when John refused me - I feltnothing." He sighed. "And then the rest of my heart died when I hadto leave my flesh and blood behind."

"I know." She shifted up so that they were nose to nose on thepillow. "I know that feeling. I understand."

"You do, don't you?"

Her hand dug into the thick hair at the base of his skull. "It was a bitdifferent, I suppose. She was grown. I didn't want to leave her - but she toldme to go. That just as you gave me to her, she was now giving me to you."

He crushed her to him. She wrapped her legs around his narrow waist.

"Had you not come back, Claire -"

"Sshh."

"Why am I cursed to not raise my own children? To - to have them raised byEnglishmen, in foreign lands?"

His body tensed around hers, coiled so tight with grief and rage.

"Why should I have lived half of my life without the other half of mysoul?"

"Had we not sacrificed then, we wouldn't be here now." She rolledthem on the mattress so that they were side to side, her breasts crushed to hischest. "We would both be dead. And where's the point in that?"

He heaved a tremendous sigh.

"I'm not arrogant enough to compare myself to Job - but I understand whyGod rewarded him for his years of sorrow. For the things gained throughhardship are that much sweeter, no?"

“Yes.” She brushed stray strands of hair from his cheeks. “For those things, wemake the same choice – even when we know of the hardships.”

 He anchored his hands on her hips. She tucked one legbetween his. He drew closer for a kiss.

 “Three hundred and sixteen,” he breathed against her lips. “I’vebeen counting.”

 She kissed him. “Let’s try for five hundred before dawn.”

 He kissed her. “By your count or mine?”

 She kissed him. “Each.”

[drbadass223]

Part 2 of the forbidden romance

A few hours before the party and the guys had already scolded them about no shenanigans which only made them want to rebel.

Jason, Josh, Trent and a few other people started to show up along with Trent's annoying ass frat brothers (definitely not letting them make any drinks for anyone unless they wanted to be roofied). Ava and Chloe were finally done getting ready and came down stairs to join, one of Trent's frat buds Zak kept eyeballing Ava and eventually made his way towards her handing her a drink, Ava turned it down "No thank you I'm not drinking tonight I'm designated driver" she said lying so she won't drink whatever the hell he put in her drink. He kept insisting until Trent shooed him away, "Why did you invite these Brock Turner's over? I'm pretty sure one of them us doing coke in the bathroom" said Ava, Trent took a shot and slammed it down, "Tell Chloe she asked me to bring them over" Chloe turns away "Dude I'm not hooking up with any of these creeps" she tells Chloe, "I just thought it would be fun" Ava walked away into the kitchen where Will and Ben were drinking as well, in comes Zak following her as she went into the little are with the washer and dryer near the basement "I'm getting another case of beer" she yells as she walks downto the basement. Zak follows behind her, "Nice basement" he says slurring his words, Ava places the beers down "You can be down here you have to go upstairs" she says, Zak inching towards her beer on his breath and trying to push up against her, Ava tries to walk away as he grabs her by the waist and tries to kiss her "Come on, just a kiss that's it, give me a kiss" he says placing his mouth on her, she shoves him away but he grabs her tightly and places his other hand on the back of her head "Just give me a kiss, don't be such a tease" he says now getting aggressive, "Stop it" she says trying to shove him, "Get off of her!" Yells Will as he pushes him off of Ava, Zak trips over and gets up and stumbles "We were just goofing around she wanted to" he says, "You and your friends get the hell out of here before I put you in a headlock that puts you to sleep" he says face to face with Zak, Zak nervously nods in agreement "O... Ok I'll go" he says running up the stairs and slamming the basement door. Ava let's out a sigh of relief "Thank.. Thank you" she says nervously, "Are you ok?" He ask, she nods still scared from what almost happened, he walks towards her "I'm ok thanks Will" she says sort of trailing off, Will puts his hand on her shoulder "You're all right, this is why your brother wanted us here" she sits on top of the cooler "That.. That was scary" he sat beside her and nodded in agreement "Yeah some guys are scum, but I promise we're not all like that" he says rubbing her back trying to calm her, "Yeah you're pretty awesome" she says laughing shyly, he hugs her when she turns to kiss him on the cheek when he turns in that moment accidentally kissing her on the mouth, "Oh, I'm sorry" she says, he turns kinda red "You're good don't mention it" he says, she grabs his face again and kisses him, he places his hands on her face kissing her back deeply and gets in between her legs as she wraps them around his waist, she starts to unbuckle his pants when he stops her "Wait... We shouldn't do this" he says, she pulls back "I'm sorry I don't know why I did that" she says hopping off the cooler and heading upstairs, Will stood there silent trying to figure out what just happened.

[vahilor]

Remorse (Chapter X)

The story of Réynaud, Kitai and Arik.

Chapter X

The Great Cold, Day 35, 619 K.C. Howling Fjord Reynaud stopped his big horse on top of a snowy hill and observed the small village of no more than twenty houses nestled into the valley beneath him. Near the center of the little settlement stood an inn with a creek which passed on the western side. Someone else might call the sleepy, snow-covered village beautiful. He hated it. People who lived in such places were often prejudiced against his kind, so clearly that was where Kitai had gone. He had not seen her for days – not since he had behaved like the biggest asshole on all Azeroth. He hadn't even had to violate the orders Mograine had given him. He should have been happy. No one tells him what to do. No one tries to befriend him. So why did he feel so bad about the situation? He growled, angry with himself for beeing worried about her shortly after she disappeared. She was all alone only, save by her wolf which he had gifted her in a fit of sentimentality some month ago. Kitai was no child and she knew how to master the land she grew up in. He did not doubt her abilities, but he had thas bad feeling something was totally wrong. This feeling had driven him here, at a place he usually would have avoided. Reynaud focused back on the village which lay still before him, unnaturally quiet. Normally at least a few people would have had to do their daily work despite the cold but Reynaud saw no one, something he should have recognized earlier. He softly kicked his horse into motion and started to trot down the hill which churned up the snow covering the ground. The snow swallowed most of the big beast's sounds and only its soft snorting and the gentle creaking of leathers could be heard. The Death Knight did not care. His black form could have been seen from afar long before someone could have heard him. But there was no reaction. No one closed the shutters, no one who watched him mistrustfully, no insults were hurled, no mothers dragged their children back into the house. The village was like dead. Near the outskirts Reynaud restrained his horse and slowly dismounted. He could see why nothing in the village stirred anymore. Someone had killed the inhabitants, but killing was not the right word for what the Death Knight saw. Most if them had been slaughtered. Some others had been tormented and nailed alive to their own front doors where they had slowly died. He patted the neck of his horse and walked to one of the doors where an older man had found his death. He must have suffered long before he finally was allowed to die. With his armored hand Reynaud carefully closed the dead eyes that stared at him. His stomach clenched and Reynaud was glad his condition made it impossible to vomit. The sight did not even leave the death knight cold, which many would be surprised about. Many believed he and his people were cold, heartless monsters. A lot of the Ebon Blade are broken individuals who try to find a place after all the suffering they had to endure and all the things they had to do - A hard task because his kind was not well liked and only tolerated, not accepted. Reynaud understood the prejudices to some extent but he could not accept the fact that most people would not even give his kind a chance.” Reynaud took a deep breath, more out of habit not because he had too. He slowly surrounded the house, looking for a window to take a look inside. He simply could have opened the door but the dead body nailed to it had stopped him. At the back of the house he found, what he had been looking for and carefully peered into a small dark room, the kitchen by the look of it. Nothing seemed unusual in there, and he suggested that they must have gotten the poor old fellow in the living room. Reynaud smashed in the thick uneven glass with his armored fist and squeezed through the small window, which was harder than expected. It took a moment to finally make it through but in the end he stood in the dimly lit room. Reynaud waited until his eyes had adjusted to the dim light before slowly making his way to the narrow passage that led to the large living room. Chaos dominated the room. He could clearly see that someone had raged in here. The simple furniture had been overturned or destroyed; blood stained one of the walls. Looking closer, he could see the curved shape of an old woman, obviously dead. One of her hands had been cut off and a big blood stain bloomed like a red flower on her chest. The Death Knight approached the corpse carefully and closed her eyes. “I will make them pay,” he promised with a hushed voice,“ and made his way to the small staircase which nestled against the east wall. Reynaud was glad his armor was not as bulky as what most of his brethren wore and therefore had no trouble getting upstairs. The lowercase staircase was tight and even the pauldrons of his armor scraped slightly along the wall. The wood creaked under his heavy footsteps and almost swallowed the short, soft whimpering. Reynaud stopped at once. Silence. He did not move. Only his eyes searched the corridor that lay before him. At the end, a door hung awkwardly on its hinges, as if someone had kicked it in. It must have been closed afterwards. It was strange. No one who ravaged a village and slaughtered its inhabitants would care and close a door. The death knight continued cautiously to avoid any noise, yet the leather of his armor creaked softly and parts of his chain mail collided with a slight metallic scratching. He unsheathed one of his swords, which he carried on his back and used his free hand to push the door open. The door squeaked in protest, but swung open until it stuck on a fallen drawer. A bed was pushed against one of the walls. Opposite had been a wardrobe, now overturned on the floor. Some clothes were scattered in the room. Someone had caused destruction just for the sake of it. Reynaud could hear the whimper again and now he could tell where it came from. He walked over to the bed and kneeled downto peek under it. Huddled under the bed was a small figure visibly trembling, staring at Reynaud with large fear-filled eyes. Reynaud was staggered by what he saw. A little boy, maybe four or five winters old. The Death knight hadn’t expected that and did not know what to do. He hated children. These little monsters annoyed him and always asked stupid questions. Nonetheless, he felt sorry for the child whose family must have been slaughtered like the other inhabitants of the village. The boy had been very lucky that nobody found him here. A simple look under the bed would have been enough to find him. The little boy whimpered again softly and pressed himself against the wall. It already annoyed Reynaud, but he could not just leave him alone. He took a deep breath and removed his helmet to void scaring the child any further. Hopefully the sight of a normal human face would help to get him out under the bed. “It’s all right.” The Death Knight spoke in a calm voice. “You can come out. They are gone. I am not one of them and I can bring you home.” “There is no more home.” The boy sobbed so softly that Reynaud could barely hear it. “They broke everything, even mommy and daddy.” He shivered again, as if he remembered what happened. Tears had started to run down his face. “You can’t stay here alone.” Reynaud watched the boy cowering under the bed. He carefully held out an armored hand. “I can bring you somewhere safe, somewhere warm.” “I… I am not allowed to go with strangers.” The little boy wiped his tear-wet eyes with his sleeve. It felt strange that after all what must have happened the boy still insisted on something so banal he had learned. Reynaud suppressed a sigh. He had no time for such silly games, but he also could not leave the boy behind. He would stand no chance and either starve or freeze to death. “When I tell you my name and you give me yours, then we are no longer strangers.” Reynaud still hold out his hand. “I am Reynaud ” The Death Knight forced a narrow smile. The boy hesitated for a moment before placing his hand carefully in the man's much larger one. “I am Arik.” The boy stated with his tiny voice tear-chocked voice. Reynaud carefully pulled Arik out from under the bed. Arik was extremely thin and the dirty clothes he was wearing seemed way too big for his tiny figure. He would need something to keep him warm otherwise he would not survive the ride to the Ebon Blade Outpost. Reynaud stood up and pulled the small boy to his feet who had started to sob again. “We need - “ Reynaud started to explain, when the boy clung tightly to the much larger man. Arik shook all over and his soft sobbing passed into a heart-melting weeping.

------

Story in a World of Warcraft setting.