#saffron gathering

[whimsimarion]

Young girl gathering saffron and goddess or woman of authority flanked by blue monkey on left and griffin to right, based a fresco, circa 1600 BCE, Xeste 3, Room 3, North Wall, Akrotiri archaeological site, Santorini, Greece.

Some archeologists claim that the woman (on the left) whom the girl on the right gathers saffron for is actually a religious deity (hense the monkey and the griffin) and that the girl has an epiphany, marking her transmission from a young virgin to a full adult.

References (and uncensored version) used below:

[faaun]

what draws you back to your country what draws you back to your land when i was a kid i told myself if i ever left iran i'd never go back 2 years into living in the UK i started looking at news on iran again 10 years in and i visited it for the first time again and today i heard an iranian mother talk in farsi to her child on the train to london the way my mother used to and i wanted to cry i wanted to ask her whether they're still cutting the mountaintops whether the lakes are still drying today i showed the person i was with pictures of waterfalls and palaces and forests and snow-white north something odd pulls me back with increasing force i can't ignore it ever again

[kurj]

Malia, a lil saffron gatherer

---

More of my minoan art: click

[tattooed-alchemist]

This is not a goddess, that’s an incorrect description of the art that circulated for decades after the murals were first discovered in the late 1960s. The Thera Foundation, which oversees the excavation site at Akrotiri, lists her as a saffron gatherer, and academic research that was done in the early 2000s classifies her as most likely being a regional administrator who oversaw the saffron harvest, as she is depicted like men who held similar overseeing responsibilities (i.e. the bird is an indication of authority, but not deity)

The Saffron Goddess (1600 B.C.) is a detail from a Minoan fresco depicting a saffron harvest, Akrotiri, Santorini island, Greece

[cacaitos]

i love you blue minoan boy

[flaroh]

The Lovers of Akrotiri 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🐦‍⬛🌺🌞

Junes illustration is a sweet scene of two Minoan girlfriends, that plays on the saffron gatherer motif but this time with a stylised lily landscape reminiscent of the “Spring Fresco of Akrotiri”. 🐦‍⬛🌺🌞

Their dresses are based on frescos of women and goddesses from the Minoan city of Akrotiri that was preserved in a volcanic eruption in the 16th century BCE🌋

[ad-caelestia]

Correspondences for Days of the Week [quick reference]

Sunday 

Sun 

Gold, white, yellow 

Diamond, amber, tiger’s eye, sunstone, topaz, gold 

Cedar, frankincense, lemon, St. John’s wort 

Success, fame, prosperity, hope, healing, fortune 

Monday 

Moon 

Silver, white, blue 

Moonstone, silver, aquamarine, selenite 

Jasmine, lemon, sandalwood, honeysuckle, myrtle, willow 

Peace, dreams, emotions, illusions, glamours, psychic abilities, insight, wisdom, manifestation

Tuesday 

Mars 

Red, orange 

Bloodstone, ruby, garnet, flint, rhodonite, iron, steel 

Basil, patchouli, ginger, black pepper, dragon’s blood 

Power, lust, force, passion, will, courage, physical strength, war, energy, action, independence, practicality, protection 

Wednesday 

Mercury 

Yellow, purple, grey

Emerald, agate, fluorite, citrine, aventurine, mica, pumice, quicksilver, zinc 

Lavender, eucalyptus, jasmine, sweet pea 

Communication, arts, travel, luck, change, chance, gambling, creativity 

Thursday 

Jupiter 

Blue, purple, yellow 

Amethyst, lepidolite, sugilite, yellow sapphire, lapis lazuli, tin 

Clove, oak, cinnamon, nutmeg, sage 

Abundance, gain, riches, prosperity, wealth, success, luck, self-confidence, investment, gatherings, favors, ambition, mercy, humanity, publicity  

Friday 

Venus 

Pink, green, aqua, peach 

Jade, lapis lazuli, rose quartz, coral, emerald, malachite, copper 

Rose, yarrow, saffron, vanilla, thyme, sandalwood, strawberry  

Love, fertility, romance, friendships, passion, creativity  

Saturday 

Saturn 

Black, grey

Jet, obsidian, onyx, lead, pewter, hematite 

Cypress, myrrh, patchouli, black poppy seeds 

Safety, protection, intellect, life lessons, loss, past lives, law, justice, sincerity, restraint, discipline, responsibility, caution, time, chaos  

© 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 𝙰𝙳-𝙲𝙰𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙰

[deunmiu-dessie]

price, after seeing you with kids, vows to himself that he'll get you pregnant.

  "i'm so happy you guys could make it!"

    john watches fondly as you smile. it's wide and genuine, the action making your nose scrunch up; your head tilting to the side to mimic the woman's excitement─ and john can hardly take his gaze off of you. your eyes glimmer at the sight of your heavily pregnant best friend and the woman watches with a soft smile as the two of you make your way up their driveway. 

 your body is tucked away underneath john's arm, the usual warmth of your perfume; a sweet and spicy blend of saffron and sugared vanilla, has him unable to keep his hands off of you and he makes it obvious with the way his thumb rubs back and forth over your bare shoulder. and you're just as guilty as he is, with the way your hand is nestled snuggly in the back pocket of his jeans, the other stationed right atop his hand that rests affectionately on your shoulder. 

when the two of you can make it to gatherings in your neighborhood, there's bound to be talk and swooning about you and john the next day. most women were envious that even after being together for years, it seemed like the two of you were still in your honeymoon phase.

 "jas! babe, what are you doing up?" your voice is a teasing lilt as you shimmy your way out from under john's arm, looking back at him briefly to flash him a pleased smile. however, it's different from the one you sent jasmine earlier, it's softer, intimate, and familiar and it warms his belly better than bourbon ever could; his eyes soften and he smiles back, the crow's feet around his eyes deepening. 

despite john only having a few days off until his next mission, which he had wanted to spend with you, cuddled up next to the fireplace and watching movies, or perhaps cooking and baking with each other, all lovey-dovey and tête-à-tête─ you had instead asked if he could spare a day and go to a cookout hosted by a mutual friend. 

of course, he couldn't say no to you. not when you looked so reluctant to ask in the first place, with your eyebrows furrowed and a small frown marring your lips─ the same lips he had languidly kissed until it flipped right side up, with gentle murmurs of reassurance. besides, john didn't mind jasmine's husband. tom was a retired colonel of the army and they had hit it off quite quickly, especially given john's position. 

  reluctantly, john's eyes drift away from where you stand hugging jasmine, immediately spotting tom who is situated with a few other men at the grill. sucking in a breath, john made his way over to them, a smile splitting his cheeks when tom notices him, his tongs clanging against the metal. "well i'll be damned, if it isn't john, fucking, price." 

 the two men join hands briefly, "tommy, i've been gone a few months and she's already pregnant again." john chuckles softly at tom's sheepish look, the man's cheeks pinkening. "m'surprised y'r balls haven' shriveled up yet." john finishes, dropping into a squat to pluck a lone water nestled amongst the beers. “well, what can i say? she’s all over me!” tom, through his boisterous laughter at his own joke, notices the bottle and sends john a smirk, "you gone in a few days?"

 john grunts, hoping to save himself from the conversation, talk of work right now would only annoy him. tom clasps him on the shoulder firmly and sends him a mocking grin, perhaps this is why john liked tom, banter flowed naturally between the two of them. john was reminded of gaz time and time again when holding a conversation with the retired colonel. "it's as i said before. maybe it's time for you to settle down, you're not getting any younger."

  john grunts at that one too, eyes scanning the bustling cook-out to look for your comforting presence. he immediately finds you amongst your group of friends, a newborn babe nestled in the crook of your arms delicately and other children playing a simple version of tag around your legs. you're gazing down at the baby with envious adoration, eyes sparkling with awe and something akin to being maternal and it knocks the breath from his throat, his heart swelling within his chest at the sight of you. 

   and for a moment, he pictures that you're holding his child in your arms and that those are his kids circling your legs. and it's when your eyes somehow find his, your smile shy and your eyes almost pleading, that he swears to himself that he'll get you pregnant. and an ache to see your belly swollen with his child starts in his chest before traveling straight to his cock. tom chuckles, it's a knowing and judgment-free look. "i guess your mind is made up, huh captain?"

connected with this post!

[greenwitchcrafts]

June 2024 witch guide

Full moon: June 21st

New moon: June 6th

Sabbats: Litha/Summer Solstice- June 20th

June Strawberry Moon

Known as: Aerra Litha, Birth Moon, Blooming Moon, Brachmanoth, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Green Corn Moon, Hatching Moon, Hoer Moon, Honey Moon, Lovers Moon, Mead Moon, Moon of Horses, Moon of Making Fat, Partner Moon, Rose Moon & Strong Sun Moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Gemini & Cancer

Nature spirits: Sylphs & Zephyrs

Deities: Aine of Knockaine, Bendis, Cerridwen, Green Man, Ishtar, Isis, Neith & Persephone

Animals: Butterfly, frog, monkey & toad

Birds: Peacock & wren

Trees: Maple & Oak

Herbs: Dog grass, meadowsweet, moss, mugwort, parsley, skullcap & vervain

Flowers: Lavender, orchid, tansy & yarrow

Scents: Lavender & lily of the valley

Stones:  Agate, Alexandrite, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, emerald, fluorite, garnet, moonstone, ruby & topaz

Colors: Gold, green, orange & yellow

Energy:  Abundance, balance, change of residence, communication, decision making, education, family relations, full & restful energy, love, marriage, prosperity, positive transformation, prevention, protection, public relations, relationships, responsibility, strength, tides turning, travel & writing

While strawberries certainly are a reddish-pink color and are roundish in shape, the origin of the name “Strawberry Moon” has nothing to do with the Moon’s hue or appearance.

• June's full Moon is typically the last full moon of spring or the first of summer. The June Full Moon will be extraordinary. For the first time since 1985, Full Moon happens precisely on the summer solstice, when the Sun is highest up. Because the Full Moon is always opposite the Sun, this year, you will see that the Moon is 10 widths lower on the horizon than the Sun ever is. 

This “Strawberry Moon” name has been used by Native American Algonquian tribes that live in the northeastern United States as well as the Ojibwe, Dakota, and Lakota peoples to mark the ripening of “June-bearing” strawberries that are ready to be gathered. The Haida term Berries Ripen Moon reflects this as well. As flowers bloom and early fruit ripens, June is a time of great abundance for many.

Litha

Known as: Alban Heruin, Summer Solstice & Whit Sunday

Season: Summer

Element: Fire

Symbols: Besom, fairies, God's eyes, sunflowers & symbols of the sun

Colors: Blue, gold, green, orange, red, tan & yellow

Oils/Incense: Cinnamon, frankincense, heliotrope, lavender, lemon, lily of the valley, mint, musk, myrrh, orange, orange pine, pine, rose, saffron, sandalwood & wisteria

Animals: Cattle, crab, horse & octopus

Birds: Goldfinch, kingfisher, meadowlark, owl, robin & wren

Mythical: Fairies

Stones: Bloodstone, diamond, emerald, jade, lapis lazuli & tiger's eye

Food: Ale, bread, cheese, edible flowers, garden fresh vegetables & fruit, lemons, meade, milk, oranges, pumpernickel bread, summer squash & wine

Herbs/Plants: Anise, basil, betony, cinquefoil, copal, elder, fennel, fern, frankincense, galangal, hemp, ivy, larkspur, lemon, lemon balm, mistletoe, mugwort, mullien, nettle, orange, orpin, plantain, rue, saffron, sandalwood, St.John's wort, thyme, verbena, vervain, wild thyme & ylang-ylang

Flowers: Carnation, chamomile, daisy, heather, heliotrope, honeysuckle, lavender, lily, marigold, orchid, rose, wisteria & yarrow

Trees: Elder, holly, laurel, linden, oak & pine

Goddesses: Amaterasu, Aine, Anahita, Dea, Cerde, Dag, Dana, Eiru, Fenne, Gwydion, Kupala, Mabd, Phoebe, Skhmet & Sul

Gods: Apollo, Baal, Balder, Bel, The Dagda, Donnus, El, The Green Man, Helios, Huon, Jupiter, Llew, Loki, Lugh, Maui, Mithras, Oak/Holly King, Ogmios, Ra, Surya, Thor & Zeus

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, changes, divination, ending, fertility, life, light, manifestation, power, purpose, strength, success & unity

Spellwork: Fire & water magick

Activities:

• Charge and cleanse your crystals in the solstice sun

• Make Sun water

• Create crafts with natural elements such as flowers

• Burn a paper with things that no longer serve you or that you are trying to let go

•  Invite friends & family over for a bonfire and/or feast

• Gather & dry herbs for the upcoming year

• Clean, decorate & cleanse your altar with summer symbols

• Brew some sun tea

• Take a ritual bath/shower with flowers

• Make your own sun dial

• Craft a door wreath out of flowers & herbs

• Enjoy some sunrise/sunset yoga

• Volunteer at a food kitchen or animal shelter

• Plant trees (especially ones that may provide fruit or berries to feed the wildlife)

• Watch the sunset & say a blessing to nature

• Make flower infused anointing/spell oils

• Eat fresh fruits & berries

• Participate in a handfasting

• Create shadow art

The history of Litha reveals its deep connections to ancient agricultural societies & their reliance on the sun's power. Celebrated as part of the Wheel of the Year, Litha symbolizes the balance between light & darkness. Throughout history  customs such as bonfires, herb gathering & the construction of sunwheels have marked this festival. Today, Litha continues to be celebrated by various communities, with gatherings at sacred sites & private rituals in natural settings. It serves as a reminder of our connection with nature and the cycles of life.

• The traditions of Litha appear to be borrowed from many cultures. Most ancient cultures celebrated the summer solstice in some way such as the Celts celebrated Litha with hilltop bonfires & dancing. Many people attempted to jump over or through the bonfires for good luck. Other European traditions included setting large wheels on fire & rolling them down a hill into a body of water.

Litha is often associated with Midsummer, a celebration that extends beyond the pagan and Wiccan traditions. Midsummer festivities are observed in many cultures around the world, including Scandinavian countries where it holds a prominent place in their cultural heritage. Midsummer dances, bonfires, & feasts are integral parts of these celebrations, often accompanied by folklore and traditional rituals that honor the sun's energy and the abundance of nature during this time.

The summer solstice is the longest day of the year & in some traditions, Litha is when The Sun(The God) is symbolically at it's peak time of power & the World will soon be ripe to harvest. It is also when The Goddess is pregnant with The God who is to be reborn at Yule.

• In the Northern Hemisphere the Summer Solstice occurs when the Sun reaches its highest and northernmost points in the sky. It marks the start of summer in the northern half of the globe. (In contrast, the June solstice in the Southern Hemisphere is when the Sun is at its lowest point in the sky, marking the start of winter.)

Some also believe the history & spirit of Litha revolve around two deities, The Oak King & The Holly King. In Wiccan and Neo-Pagan traditions, each King rules the Earth for half of the year. From Yule to Litha, the Oak King rules. On Litha, the two battled for the crown and it is then that the Holly King triumphs. The Holly King will rule through fall until Yule, and the cycle will begin again.

Related festivals:

• Vestalia- June 7th -15th

Was a Roman religious festival in honor of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth & the burning continuation of the sacred fire of Rome. It was held from 7–15 June & was reserved as a women's-only event. Domestic & family life in general were represented by the festival of the goddess of the house & of the spirits of the storechamber — Vesta & the Penates .

On the first day of festivities the penus Vestae (sanctum sanctorum of the temple of Vesta which was usually curtained off) was opened for the only time during the year, at which women offered sacrifices. As long as the curtain remained open, mothers could come, barefoot and disheveled, to leave offerings to the goddess in exchange for a blessing to them and their family.

For the last day, the penus Vestae was solemnly closed, the Flaminica Dialis observed mourning & the temple was subjected to a purification called stercoratio: the filth was swept from the temple and carried next by the route called clivus Capitolinus and then into the Tiber.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[mariacallous]

As a kid in Hebrew School, I learned that my classmates would have apples and honey and round challah at Rosh Hashanah to bring in the New Year, and that was pretty much it when it came to food traditions. But at home, it was a different story. 

As an Iranian Jew, Rosh Hashanah was an elaborate affair. We’d gather the extended family together for the first two nights of the holiday, the first at my parents’ house, the second at my aunt’s. Dining tables, coffee tables, and folding tables would be lined up to make one long dinner table, covered with tablecloths to accommodate a good 20 or so family members. The table would be spread with platter after platter: mountains of saffron-laced basmati rice, crispy tahdig, and flavorful stews — maybe a deep green stew of celery and lots of herbs, or a tomato-based eggplant stew, tangy with unripe grapes.

But before dinner, we’d (mostly) pause the loud chatter — a lively mix of Persian and English — for a full Sephardic Rosh Hashanah seder. Yes, there were apples and honey. But we’d also have dates, beets, pomegranate seeds, slow-cooked black-eyed peas and beef tongue, Persian leeks, and fried zucchini, each with a symbolic meaning and a blessing for the coming year. 

This date upside-down cake takes the dates from my family’s Rosh Hashanah seder and pairs them with the two fragrant ingredients found in so many Persian sweets: cardamom and rosewater. The cake’s batter uses buttermilk for a bit of tang and goes easy on the sugar to provide some balance for the topping: a super sweet combination of velvety dates in a rich butter caramel. It’s a moist and aromatic dessert that pairs perfectly with a glass of amber-colored Persian tea.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Words Like Honey 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Ransom Drysdale (Professor AU)

Summary: it's hard making friends at college, but you might just be looking in the wrong places.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You reach for the last coconut bar in the basket. As you take it, another hand stops short and you turn to the man you didn’t notice right beside you. You have a bad habit of zoning out in crowded places. Your sister calls it tunnel vision. Often times, you would just sit and stare at family gatherings with all the people and sound. 

“Oh, oops, sorry,” you hold out the bar, “did you want this one?” 

The man glances at you, a tick in his cheek, “aw, sweetheart, don’t you worry about that. I’m just fine with a brownie.” He reaches to take a brownie from the basket instead, “nice of ya to offer, though.” 

“It’s not problem,” you say, “I don’t mind trading.” 

“No, no, now what kinda gentleman would take from a pretty gal like yourself? You go on and enjoy that,” he smiles. “Don’t meet many polite ladies ‘round here, now.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks heat up, “thank you, sir.” 

“And I’m sure you don’t need old men sayin’ so,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll be on my way then.” 

You smile as he moves to get around you. The space is tighter than you expect and his belly presses slightly against you as he sidles past. He gives and apologetic nod, “sorry, sweetheart.” 

“No worries,” you assure him and slip past, turning to peruse the packets of flavoured hot chocolate by the hot water karafe. 

You choose the smores flavour and tear it open. You fix up your cocoa and pop a lid on top. You take your sweets to the cashier and swipe your student card. It isn’t the best use of your meal plan but that sweet tooth kills you.  

You have about an hour before your next class. You come out into the cafeteria area and glance around. There’s not much room in the midday rush. The first week is always the busiest. 

You could sneak your hot chocolate into the library but you’re not sure it would be any less crowded. You see the same man at a table. He shimmies on his seat as he puts his briefcase next to him. He’s older and judging by his checkered button-up, a professor.  

You measure your options. Second year and you still haven’t found any friend. Your grandma says to put yourself out there but Cameron in your baking class said your souffle looked flat and laughed with Dustin and Penny.  

All you want is a place to sit. 

You approach the man, your stomach fluttering. You really hope you’re not bothering him. You keep your hot chocolate close to your chest. 

“Ahem, erm, excuse me, sir,” you say. He looks up as he presses his thumb down to unlock his phone. He lays it on the table and retracts his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a pest, again, but...” you look around, “do you mind if I steal this seat? I promise I’ll be quiet.” 

“Go on,” he gestures to the chair. “I’ll only ask ya one thing.” 

“Oh, sure,” you look at him like a frightened fawn. 

“Your name? Must be as pretty as you.” 

You could melt. The way his accent turns his voice to syrup and his words make it even sweeter. You grin. 

“Saffron, sir,” you set down your cup and square. You extend your hand in an overly formal gesture. “And you?” 

“You can call me Lee, sweet cake.” He shakes your hand. His grip is firm and tight. He reminds you of your neighbour who used to mow the lawn for your grandma. Always helpful. 

“Lee,” you sit and blow over the slot of the lid. “You must teach. Oh, sorry, I said I’d be quiet.” 

“Nah, it’s alright,” he waves away your apology. “Is it that obvious then? You count the grays?” 

He touches his temples and you giggle nervously. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. I only... well, you could be a student. Gerry in my pastry class, he’s got grandkids.” 

“I ain’t got none of those now,” he snorts and points at you tersely. 

“I--” You pull back and touch your cheeks, “oh boy, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear.” 

He laughs, “I know. I’m yankin’ ya chain. So, I s’pose you’re a student then? Culinary? You mentioned pastries?” 

“Oh, yes.” You nod and cross your arms over the table. “I always cooked with my grandma and I figured, if you’re good at something, you should keep doing it.” 

“That does sound like a good plan,” he says.  

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod. 

Awkwardness sets in and you try to figure out what to do with yourself. You scratch your shoulder then reach for your hot chocolate. You take another drink and set it down. You take the coconut square and put it in your bag. 

You take out your laptop, hoping to busy yourself as the tension builds. You should have just gone and sat in the quad. Too late now. 

You open up the lid and type in your password. Of course, it needs to update. As you wait for the rolling circle to finish, your vision blurs. All this activity makes you want to disappear. 

Your eyes come back into focus as your computer chirps. You blink and notice movement on the other side. You glance at Lee as he pulls his phone close and squints at the screen. There’s something odd about the intensity of his gaze. You swear, he’d just had it right across from you. 

Well, you weren’t paying attention. There you go again, blocking out the world. If you stopped that, you might actually make friends! You frown and cup your chin in your hand. 

“’samatter?” He asks, once more jarring you from your self-imposed isolation. 

You shake your head and sit up, “nothing. Just... thinking.” 

“Hm, well whatever ya thinking of, it can’t be so bad. Not enough to make a sweet thing like you so sad,” he says. 

“Really, it’s not. You know, college can be stressful,” you force a smile. 

“It can be. Piece of advice,” he leans forward, “get out while you can. Don’t stick around like me.” 

“Oh, well, thanks,” you reply. “I think I’ll end up in a kitchen somewhere. Hopefully.” 

“Kitchen’s a nice place to be,” he winks. “Make all sorts of tasty dishes. Make people happy. Not many people happy about a term paper, ya know?” 

[whimsimarion]

Saffron gathering.

I wanted to try something different, but I don't know how much I succeeded. Might redo it in the far future.

References used:

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Phantom pain

Summary; Price said he would be back before Christmas, but you didn't think it would be like this.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 9k

Warnings; angst, injury, copious amount of fluff

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: Surprise update everyone! I've been feeling so festive this year, there's so much snow and everything's just so cosy, so this chapter comes as a little hurt to feel-good thing on the third of advent. If you don't celebrate Christmas or don't like the festive period, I simply hope that you have a great December nonetheless🥰

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

It had been a slow morning. Despite snow greeting you on the ground and in the air, you'd felt warm huddled in your jacket and the thought of cosying into one of the plush armchairs at your coffee shop. It had been serene; not many ventured outside in this weather. Yet, you'd smiled behind the lapel of your jacket when something other than cloudy skies and rain doused everything in a hue of grey.

You'd been in such a good mood that when you returned home with some pastries to go, saffron and caramel the main components in the golden danishes and tarts, you started a deep cleaning of your flat.

With the least Christmasy of Christmas songs playing from your speakers, you put up some festive lights, the warm glow softening every hard edge.

Although, while you're balancing on your stool, using some double-sided sticky tape to fasten a string of light behind your curtains, the music from your speakers is cut off by your phone ringing. You didn't think twice about heading to your phone, believing it was Marissa or one of your other friends. Yet, you stall when spotting the caller I.D. lighting up your screen.

Two weeks. John said his deployment would last two weeks. Of course, you would've been happy if he returned home earlier on any other occasion. But something made your stomach twist and your brows furrow when John now was calling less than a week and a half after he left.

"John?" You ask tentatively after answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Sorry, lass, probably not the John ya wanted". Your heart fucking drops, your face falling in record time when it's a Scottish accent and not the easily recognisable British variant greeting you.

"J-Johnny?" Your voice breaks halfway through, unable not to. Even tears managed to well in the short seconds you realise what this call might be.

"Hey, easy, Price is alive and kickin'-"

"Oh god", you choke out the words, dropping to the couch behind you as you'd remained standing since you answered, for some reason. The tears that collected in the corner of your eyes trail down your cheeks upon your eyes shutting, more so from the sudden burst of relief than the fear that brought them.

"Fuck, you scared me, Johnny".

"Should've started with that", he excuses with a slight, strained chuckle before he clears his throat. "But... still callin' for a reason".

"Yeah, gathered that much", you return, wiping away your tears with your shirt sleeve.

"Captain got downed durin' the mission, nasty shot in the shoulder".

"What?" Your motion stills when you register what Johnny said, gaze falling to stare at the call-time ticking away tauntingly slow.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the infirmary and had just returned from a quick surgery".

"But is he alright?" You bring your phone closer to your face as if it somehow would make Johnny feel how you pressed for an answer.

"Huffin' and groanin' 'bout it but fine otherwise. He wanted me to call ya, knowin' the pain-meds he was forced to take wouldn't help him give good 'nough explanation of things".

"Okay, okay", you mumble. He's alive. Hurt but alive.

"He'll need to stay a while. But ya can come to see him if ya want".

"I can?"

"'Course, we'll be able to get ya a visitin' pass".

"Oh, thank you, Johnny", you breathe out.

"Nothin' to thank, lass. Can't stand the Captain's grousin' anymore". You chuckle half-heartedly at that. "I'll send you the details 'bout the visit and some information that's needed".

"Yes, yes, absolutely". You nodded along even if the Scot couldn't see the motion. "Send it over, and I'll fill out whatever's needed".

You don't know how much of a shit show things had turned into for them to return home early. Although, it must have been bad if not only John didn't go unharmed from it, but even Johnny seemed to have seen better days. 

It was hard not to notice his roughened-up look when he met you by the army base's outer perimeter about two hours later. There were a few cuts and bruises littering his face, and even though the Scot didn't hesitate to bring you into a comforting hug as you jumped out of your car, you noted the slight wince he waved off as a 'bruised everything'.

Even if you'd been shaken after ending the call with Johnny, you attempted to calm down, telling yourself 'John's fine' before leaving your flat. Yet, those nerves flared right up when you entered the small visitors' centre beside the road. Thankfully, the very man who'd given you the news of John seemed to notice that the military surroundings were vastly unfamiliar and unnerving for someone not used to them, especially considering why you were here.

Johnny kept close the entire time, helping you with the needed papers for the visitor's pass by pointing to where your signature was required, even if he talked familiarly with the armed guards all the while.

You took deep breaths to steady yourself numerous times, feeling the Scot's attention fall on you each time he noted the same unease he previously only caught over the phone. You knew you weren't succeeding in hiding your nerves. Nevertheless, between being in a strongly off-limits zone for usual civilians and the fact you wouldn't be here if John wasn't in a hospital bed, you don't think Johnny or any of the other soldiers blamed you for it.

When everything was finally signed and read through, Johnny scribbled his signature on the dotted line beside yours on the last page.

With the I.D. around your neck, you exited the smaller building and jumped into your car again, only now the Scot hitched a ride back with you.

Your fingers rapped against the steering wheel once you were let through the gates and rolled forwards, teeth worrying your lower lip, eyes trained on the main compound further ahead.

"Lass", your eyes had swiftly adverted to Johnny, noticing his eyes shifting to your hands. You stopped with a tight lipped smile, your gaze having adverted forward again. "Price is roughened up but fine. He's been through much worse".

"I know", you sighed, having to hold yourself from going back to biting your lip. You'd seen John's scars, some on worryingly critical places on his abdomen. "But I haven't been there to see that...", you mumbled, eyes fixed on the parking lot ahead.

You and Soap didn't share much chatter as you parked, nor more than needed as he guided you through the building closest to the parking lot. However, he offered a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder when he saw you hesitate in the elevator upon reaching the medical wing. 

A327. That was the room John apparently was in. 

You looked at each door you passed, waiting for the right one. 

324. 325. 326. 

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you finally reached 327.

With hands intertwining hands, fingers wringing each other, you merely stand rooted before the door. All of a sudden hesitant to step inside.

"He's gonna be fine, lass". Johnny's comment makes you look up at him. A gentler smile than usual meets you, causing you to release the breath you didn't know you held as you nod. "Let's get ya to meet him". The Scot gives you an encouraging smile as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter.

John's already facing your way when you step into the room that nearly shines white and beige. But your gaze only briefly meets his before it drops, flittering over his form. 

He rests beneath multiple blankets that reach his stomach, his upper body clad in a soft white t-shirt that doesn't look like his own. Your jaw clenches when you spot his arm in a sling, stabilising it against his chest. As your eyes trail further upwards, a distressed sound bubbles up in your throat upon spotting the bandages peeking from beneath the left sleeve.

"John-", you don't manage to say anything more before you stutter to a stop, chest heaving on a sharp inhale.

"C'mere, love", his voice is hoarse, strained, barely more than a grating sound, but you move forward as on command.

You can't help how your mouth purses at how tired he looks, the hint of pain in his eyes so evident when you stop beside the bed.

"M'fine", John raises the arm of his healthy side, even so, he winces, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment before they open again.

"Don't lie, I see that you're not", you murmur as you take hold of the hand that tried to reach your face, allowing his upper arm to drop and rest along the bed, instead meeting him halfway by bending down to kiss his knuckles.

John exhales deeply, eyelids fluttering close, the crease between his brows never smoothening. God, it hurts to see him like this. 

You step closer, the side of the bed pressing into your thigh, planting a kiss at the very centre of the furrow. When you look down at John again, his features have softened, but his eyes still have a troubled look when that blue gaze meets yours.

"I'll leave ya two to it". You look over your shoulder, sending Johnny a look of gratitude.

"Thank you, Soap", John says. The Scot only nods in return, giving you a last look before he exits.

Once you're alone with John, you exhale almost painfully before gazing down at him. 

"You don't know how scared I got when Johnny called", you admit. This time, John pulls your hand rather than face towards him, tipping his head forward to plant a firm kiss against your knuckles. "Thought-"

"Sit down, love". Upon catching your distress, John pats the side of his bed with a gentle voice. Although his attempt does little to ease your nerves, seeing how the slight move of his legs sideways to give you space only makes his features twist.

"Not a chance", you protest with a shake of your head, fearful of accidentally hurting him more. Instead, you glance around the room, finding a pair of chairs along the wall.

John doesn't hold you back as you release him and move towards them, but you guess it's more because he can't then don't want to. 

You pull the chair along and put it as close to the hospital bed as possible, not hesitating to lean over the low metal railing at the side to hold John's hand again after sitting down, your other hand settling on his forearm, rubbing soothing motions. 

You gaze up at the blue-eyed man, those pretty eyes of his duller than usual, exhaustion shining in its own faded might. His brown hair is one of the few darker accents in the room; the screen of the heartbeat monitor is the other source. Yet, it's matted, fallen to its own will against his forehead rather than styled into something casual by his fingers running through it and pushing it backwards. 

Leaning forwards, your card your hand through John's hair, not nearly correcting it to how he usually does, but better nonetheless. 

Your gaze flitters to meet his when you settle back in your seat, noting the smile adorning his lips. 

"Happy to see you again, love". Not daring to test your voice, you kiss his knuckles in return. This time, you're positioned low enough that John's hand goes to cup your face when you lean away again, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "Even if it could've been under better circumstances".

You don't notice it until John's thumb paints a streak of wetness over your skin, but he redirects a stray tear rather than letting it follow its natural path.

"You're here. That's what matters". You squeeze John's wrist, leaning away to wipe your cheeks yourself, offering him a smile with a breathed chuckle.

"Was never not close to return". John wraps his hand over yours, letting them drop to the bed as he reflects your smile. "Shoddy shot whoever they were, used a handgun in close combat and still missed the brachial artery and brachial plexus", John releases one of those huff-chuckles of his. You shake your head, having no idea what difference it would make if whoever shot him hadn't missed those points, only that it probably would've been a lot worse.

"What- what went wrong?" Your gaze flickers to his injured side.

A heaved sigh escapes him before he speaks.

"Mission was bumpy from the start but went fine". You knew he let confidential details out, but you didn’t want to know anything apart from what happened to him. "Needed to wait out exfil in an abandoned buildin'. Remained remarkably silent until we got the call to move to the pick-up point. Got ambushed, absolute shitshow". He shakes his head with a grunt.

"How's the others?" You'd seen two of the four men, though Ghost and Kyle's absence suddenly irked you upon hearing what John told you.

"Bruised but none too badly". John ran his thumb over your hand. A low, partly amused, partly exasperated huff escaped him as he continued. "My turn to take the brunt for the team, it seemed".

Even if you could've wished for a better outcome for John, at least none of the others had gotten off worse. 

You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you really try to take in his state, trying, only try again to find your words. Seeing John like this almost feels wrong. 

You'd witnessed his soft side, but this wasn't soft. This is hurt. He wasn't sluggish as when you managed to keep him in bed rather than rise with the birds on the occasional weekend. This was exhaustion, one he tried to hide, but the lines on his face exposed nonetheless. 

Barely anything could've pulled your attention from John as you tried to find your words, any consolidation that wouldn't sound like pity. And yet, when a knock sounded from the door, soon after swinging open, both your and John's eyes are pulled to the entrance.

When you spit the woman striding into the room, your brows jump up.

"Kate? Didn't think you would be here". Upon noticing you sitting by John's side, the American woman stalled, the computer beneath her arm pulled in front of her.

"I was involved in the mission the boys went on". She juts her chin towards the man at your side. "Mind if I speak to him?" Her tone wasn't stern, nothing hinting at malice or desire to break you and John up. Still, it didn't really sound like she asked.

You looked from Kate to John, not really stunned compared to feeling how a bubble unexpectedly broke. "Oh, yes, of course, I'll wait outside". 

Considering how neither stopped you as you stood, John only squeezing your hand before letting go, you took it as an affirmation this wasn't a conversation you had any clearance to be present for and that one way or another would've happened either way.

Even so, Kate offers you a kind smile as you pass her on the way out. Yet, you note the blonde woman's features looked tighter than on the night of the party, without a doubt due to the predicament making John end up in a hospital bed.

When the door falls shut behind you, you lean against the wall just to the left of the entrance. It's silent to a degree you would guess the room John's in is semi, if not entirely, sound-proofed. Considering it isn't an emergency wing, you wouldn't disregard the possibility.

You sigh, eyes falling close. What a fucking day.

You don't know how long you stand like that, but you're only dragged out from whatever trance you entered once you catch the elevator stopping on your floor and the steps coming closer soon after. Considering you'd anticipated a nurse or the like, your brows rise when the pristinely white surroundings suddenly stand in stark contrast to the person dressed in dark army clothing.

"Heard from Soap you would be around". You smile as you push off the wall, meeting Kyle as he closes the distance between you. "How are you holding up?" The question brushes past your shoulder as he brings you in for a hug before keeping you within arm's distance, studying what must be your tired features.

"As good as can be". You smile in return. The young Brit rubs your upper arms reassuringly as he nods, seeming content with your answer as his arms drop to his sides. "You here to visit John?"

"I was, got some gaps in my schedule", Kyle confirms before cocking his head. "But I guess I'll have to wait, considering you're not there with him".

”Kate is paying him a visit”. He looks at the door with a furrowed brow before his attention tracks back to you and it smoothens. ”If you wanna greet him, maybe you have enough authority to”. Kyle only shakes his head. 

”If Laswell wanted to talk to him first, there’s a reason. The rest of us will know in due time. Hopefully, he ain't such a grouse by then”. He shrugs, and you can't stop your laugh. This time, it's not half-hearted nor forced.

"All of you laying it on thick about how grumpy he is".

"He isn't such a charmer when things don't go his way and he isn't surrounded by pretty faces". You swat Kyle on the arm as he sends you a look. "Only telling you the truth, not all of us get special treatment".

"Yeah, yeah, alright", he nudges your shoulder with his knuckles before stepping backwards.

"Send the Cap'n my regards, have to be on my way".

"Will do. Have a good day, Kyle". He gives you a nod of goodbye in return as he turns on his heel, heading back to the elevator he came from a few minutes ago. You offer him a last wave before the door closes.

Alone again, you look at the clock on the wall. But, considering you have no recollection of when you exited the room, you can't tell how much time has passed since Kate arrived, only guessing it must be at least a dozen. 

You scan the corridor, finding sporadic rows of chairs along the wall, similar to the ones in John's room. Not knowing how long John and Kate's unofficial meeting would continue, you move to one of the seats across from where you'd stood, fishing up your phone to make time pass faster as you sit down.

Taking note this time, you know another ten minutes have passed before the door opposite you opens and pulls your eyes from your screen.

You slip your phone into your pocket as you push up from the seat and head towards Kate, Even though she’s keeping the door open with one hand on the handle, you barely catch the end of John's sentence before it ends.

Just as you reach her side, Kate's attention trails from John to you, giving you space to enter by stepping out of the room. Flashing her a brief smile, you move forward but suddenly gets halted when her hand slips around your upper arm.

"It's good to see the Captain's got someone with him", her voice is lowered, only for you to catch.

Your lips tug upwards in a genuine smile. Without really knowing how to answer that, you offer Kate a nod and a small 'thank you' in return.

The smile she reciprocates with is much less strained this time around. "Take care of him now".

"I will". And with that, she nods goodbye, heading down the hallway while you re-enter the room. 

"Spoke with Kyle". You begin while closing the door behind you. "He says hello". You forward his message to avoid forgetting. 

When your eyes fall upon John, whom you barely catch an answer from, at least not more than a hum, you notice how he's sunken deeper into the bed.

"You tired?" You retake your place in the armchair as he hums again. As John scoots closer to your side and stretches his hand towards you, you settle your elbow on the bed and intertwine your hands again.

"Laswell was worried, wanted to check in and inform me some things that needed finishin' could wait". The pauses between his words were prolonged, and the pronunciation drawled as he briefed you on his conversation with Kate. "Should finish them, though", he grunted, trying to sit up straight against the pillows, but you settled a hand on his stomach.

"You need to rest, John. If Kate said things could wait, trust her". He stilled, looking back at you with slow, almost drowsy blinks.

"Fine", he agreed, settling into the bed again.

 As he sighed, eyes fluttering close, you felt something bleed from your body, making your upper body relax forwards, head settling on the verge between John’s hip and his lower stomach. Feeling the weight, his eyes flutter open, head tilting forward as he gazes at you. 

"Mm, talk to me, love, what you've been up to".

"Not much, really. I worked and met up with some friends. Oh, Marissa and I went on a little investment spree for Christmas".

"Investment?" John humours in a low voice, the twitch in his mouth unable to pull his lips into a complete smile compared to only tilting the edges upwards.

"If they're going to be reused yearly, that's an investment". He chuckles deeply, and you release a chuckle of your own.

You continue talking about what you've done in the week and a half you've been apart. Some Christmas baking, putting up decorations as of today, noting how most things out of the ordinary related to the holiday season. 

Gradually, you notice how John's eyes fall close. Even so, he's still invested in the conversation with few-worded responses. But even those soon become nods and hums when his hand relaxes in yours. As you move to gently trail your fingers up and down his forearm, all while continuing to talk, the soothing motions make him heave a sigh. 

Soon enough, the only sounds he lets out are the breaths escaping his parted lips, his softened breathing followed by the rhythmic movement of his chest. 

You trail off in your sentence with a small smile, watching John's sleeping features. No furrow pulls his brows together, no involuntary twinge in his features letting on his pain. He looks at ease, and it finally settles your nerves as well. 

In stark contrast to how you notice John's consciousness slipping, you don't detect yours slowly doing the same. 

Your movements up and down his skin slowly grow shorter, from trailing between his wrist to the crook in his arm to only rubbing the spot your hand eventually stills on. The tension in your neck releases from the claws of whatever emotions had built throughout the tumultuous day, your head feeling heavier as it rests against his stomach. There's a fine line between when your blinking turns from slow to prolonged, even slimmer to when you can pinpoint your last conscious thought.

You're not the first to wake up. John's the one who stirs when a knock sounds from the door.

If not for the pain in his shoulder, despite being suppressed, he wouldn't blink his eyes so blearily and feel his mind sluggishly awake compared to what's expected of someone like him. Even so, his senses are sharper than yours as he notes your form slumped over the bed and your head resting on him, serene features remaining much like your steady breaths bleeding through the blankets.

His eyes trails to the door, releasing a low sound that must have sounded like a grunt to whoever was on the other side, but he couldn't care. The door swings open, Soap stepping through it much like he'd done a few hours earlier, but then with you by his side. 

Now, the Sctosman closes the door behind him gently upon noting your sleeping form before his attention settles on John.

As Soap steps further into the room, John's eyes flit down to your sleeping form before rising again. With a swift look at the clock, he knows what the Sergeant is probably here for. He softly settles his hand upon your head.

You don’t remember falling asleep, only that John did, so when you’re roused from a dreamless nap by a hand cradling your scalp, you feel groggy when sitting up straight all too suddenly. 

You blink repeatedly as your vision focuses again, finding John looking at you, his hand sliding down to the back of your head and down your arm.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm". You roll your head, twitching at the twinge in your neck from your not-so-ergonomic sleeping position.

"Not the comfiest spot for ya". The Scottish accent catches you off-guard, as last you checked, only you and John were in the room.

You turn around, spotting the very Scot who'd spoken. "Oh, hi, Johnny".

"Hey, lass", he chuckles in return. "Just came ’bout to inform ya there’s a room waitin' if ya want to stay the night". 

Your brows lift, eyes shifting to John, who's already watching you. "You don’t need to. I’ll be holed up here either way".

"It will just be less travel tomorrow", you shrug, turning back to Soap as you confirm you'll stay.

"Come on then, lass, visitin' hours are over soon". He opened the door slightly as he spoke, showing you he would guide you to your room for the night. You nodded, shifting out of your seat to stand, not without looking down at John.

"Go, get some proper sleep", he nudges your hip. You give him a brief smile before bending down, pressing your lips against his. They're chapped, but their plush warmth is soft. As you part from him, you mumble a 'goodnight' against him, an equally low 'goodnight, love' murmured against your lips, warming you further before you pull away.

You place the chair back where it's meant before fetching your things from beside the bed and offer John a last parting smile and a 'see you tomorrow'.

Just before you pass through the door, you look back at John, offering him a small wave, one he answers with a warm smile.

"You really turn the Captain into a love-sick man", Johnny's comment comes seconds after the door closes. You turn to him, seeing the amused look he sends you.

"Oh, shut up". You swat Johnny's arm, making him bark out a chuckle.

"Ain't nothin' bad, lass", he mused, nudging you back with his elbow.

The Scotsman lead you to another part of the compound, a freestanding building just across the one you exited, at the other side of the parking lot. 

It had begun snowing. Fat constellations of powdery white fall through the air as you trudge through what's already covering the ground. You flick up the lapel of your coat, burrowing your nose in the fabric as you protect your eyes from the snowflakes desiring to stick to your lashes. 

When you entere the building you'd been heading toward, the warmth inside was a welcoming change, and you shrug away the snow that had yet to melt into the dark fabric enveloping you. 

This time around, there was no need to sign papers as upon your arrival, Johnny simply led you straight to the room appointed for you, handing you the key when stopping outside the door. As you entered, you were surprised, not knowing what you'd anticipated, but certainly not a space similar to a hotel room.

A low whistle pulls your eyes to Johnny. "Aye, not bad", his eyes rove over the room before settling on you.

"Much better than I thought", you agree, stepping inside, shrugging the bag off your shoulder, and simply putting it on the floor.

"Didn't think we would put ya in the barracks, did ya?"

"Never experienced military hospitality before, but didn't expect much", you shrug, smiling in return as you turn to face him.

He shakes his head. "That's the thanks", he quips, yet his grin deceives him. "I'll see ya in the mornin', lass".

"Johnny!" He halts in the step he'd begun to take, watching you with raised brows. "Just, thank you for... everything today". His fingers rap against the door handle as he shifts the weight on his feet.

"Knew it probably would be tough for ya and that Price probably hadn’t even thought ‘bout having ya visit here yet. S’jus' wanted to make it as smooth as possible for the both of ya. Know he would've done the same for the rest of us", he shrugs with a gentle smile. Johnny's consideration warming your heart.

"Thank you, really".

The side of his mouth bows upwards. "Ya are welcome". And with that, he closes the door.

***

When you wake up in an unfamiliar room, remembering where you are takes a few seconds. Then it comes rushing back as you see the visiting pass on the bedside table. Johnny’s phone call. John’s injury. The military base. 

You sit up with a jawn, peeking out the room's sole window.

It’s utterly white outside, with no cloud in the sky as the sun just about peeks over the horizon, suggesting today will be considerably colder than yesterday.

Slipping from bed, you’re quick to dress yourself. The t-shirt you slept in gets stuffed into your handbag as you only shrug on the hoodie from yesterday, slipping into your pants not soon after.

You move to the bathroom, lamenting the lack of anything to freshen up. Even so, you splash your face with water, trying to tame your hair before sighing heavily, simply fetching the hair-tie you’d remembered to take off your wrist before bed. 

Moving around the room, you remember the package of gum you’d thrown into your bag a few days ago, hoping you hadn’t chewed through the whole package when it would ease your mind about morning breath.

You rummage through your bag, cursing what yesterday didn't feel like a lot of stuff, but now does as you search for what you need. 

A swift two-rap knock echoes from the door just as a triumphant sound escapes you when you spot the silvery package. Popping a gum into your mouth, you move towards the entrance, not surprised to find Johnny on the other side as you swing it open.

”Good morning”. 

Johnny cocks his head as you smile at him before he splits into his own grin. ”Ya seem cheery this mornin’.”

”Seeing that John’s doing good helped me sleep better”, you shrug, catching a hum from him as you turn around to collect your stuff around the room. ”And then the bed was surprisingly good”.

”These ones are heaven in comparison to those in the barracks”.

”Yeah?” You turn towards the Scot standing with his hands behind his back, waiting at the doorstep.

“Aye, happy to not be rookie anymore”.

”Understandable”, you chuckle as you and Johnny step out into the hallway before tracking the same path you’d done yesterday. You could’ve done it yourself but had an inkling that you couldn’t move freely on the base.

”So you’re my guide while I’m here?” Blue eyes flicker down to you as he lets you pass out the door to the courtyard first.

It’s indeed colder today than yesterday, the chill biting your cheeks.

”Aye. Concernin’ Price was bed-bound; I needed to sign those papers in his stead”.

”And you don’t have better things to do?” 

”L.T. gave me five minutes to spare”.

”From what?” The snow crunches beneath your shoes.

”Whatever drill he set up to run us into the ground”. You let out a surprised laugh at that, making the Scot grin. ”Yaself then, lass, goin’ to keep an eye out on the Captain for us when he leaves?”

Your eyes widen, switching to look at Johnny once evading an ice-spot as you cross the parking lot. ”He’s cleared to go home?” 

”Haven't got any confirmation on it. But he's got no vital injury and has stayed close to two days, so it’s probable he’ll get to go home”, he shrugs.

The warmth rushes against your face as you enter the main building, much like yesterday, taking a right towards the medical wing.

”Feel like I’ll need to. Otherwise, he’ll stress the injury”.

”Wouldn’t be the first time any of us did that”. Johnny rubbed his neck as you raised your brows at him. He positioned himself opposite you as you stepped into the elevator, giving you a sheepish shrug. ”Comes with the job sometimes despite medical leaves”, the Scot excused the habit, only making you roll your eyes with a disbelieving huff.

”Then I’ll definitely have to ensure he takes it easy”. The doors close, and the elevator smoothly rises.

”Price won’t be able to say no to ya, never has since he met ya”. When your head dips into a shake this time, a smile adorns your lips that you try to hide. Even so, the Scot slung his arm around your shoulders with a laugh as you exited the elevator upon its chime and the doors opening.

The walk to John’s room seems much shorter than yesterday, without a doubt, because you know of his stable state. So when Johnny drops his arms from your shoulders, it’s not with bathed breath you open the door. 

Unlike yesterday, your eyes don’t lock with John’s the second you enter the room designated to him. His gaze remains cast downwards on the tablet in his lap, even if his head tilts your way to show he noted someone had entered. Not until the Scot behind you offers a ’Mornin’ Captain’ does the man in the bed look up.

”What was that about makin’ him take it easy?” Johnny chuckles lowly, making you send him a look before he departs with a mock salute. You only shake your head at the man before entering the room.

”Aren’t you meant to take it easy?” You watch John with a raised brow, catching how the door slides close behind you while you slip out of your coat. 

”I am”.

”Let me rephrase”, you chide him with a smile. ”Shouldn’t you relax, no work?” You move to the side of his bed with one of the chairs dragged along behind you.

”I-

”Don’t say that you are John. I know that look on your face”, you remark with a finger towards the easing purse of his lips and the furrow between his brows that’s not brought on entirely by pain like yesterday.

He sighs heavily, a locking sound coming from the tablet as he drops it screen-down in his lap. ”You’re right”.

 ”I know I am”. John releases a huff of laughter through his nose at your comment, softening your smile. ”Did you sleep well?”

He hums. ”Woke a few times ’cause of this-”. He jerked his head to his shoulder. ”Bed probably goin’ to set off my back”, he scoffed in annoyance at having to deal with the twinge in the lower part of his spine that you’d learnt most often came and went more frequently after he returned from a deployment or a bad mattress. 

You hum, leaning forward to card your fingers through his hair that had fallen across his forehead after his previous jerky movement. While you do, you catch John returning the question, but your answer is an undeveloped ’good’, all your attention upon the locks your fingers card through.

His hair feels matted, and when your eyes briefly flicker over his face, you note his beard is untamed, not grizzly, but it’s lost the shine it usually always has.

”When was the last time you showered?”

”That's your way of tellin’ me I smell?” Your nose scrunches, hand falling to rest on the metal railing as your gaze locks with John’s amused one.

”No, at least that wasn’t what I was getting at”. 

A chuckle precedes the more serious answer you get. ”About a week ago at the last safe-house, haven’t been able to have one after returnin’. Can’t wet the bandages”. You purse your lips, gaze momentarily switching to his shoulder before trailing back.

”How long before you can take them off?”

”The Doc visited before you came around and said I’m clear to leave, but the bandages needed to stay on until tomorrow”.

You nod. ”Johnny betted you would be able to go home today”.

”We know how these thing goes. Instructions about wound care, then sent off on med-leave before even attempting to come back and get shot at again”.

”Jesus, John”, you let out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head. When you raise it again, there’s a slight tug in the corner of his mouth and a knowing, truthful, look in his eyes. "Better we get you home and start the arduous wait, then." You offered him a smile and a raise of your brows, silently wondering if he was ready to pack up.

"Can't wait".

It wasn't a hassle to get John out of bed. He groaned and gruffed to himself as he pushed himself upright with your hand steadying him on his back, but that was about it. As he rose from the bed, you helped him into his boots and gently slung the jacket draped over his duffel-bag on the other side of his bed. 

You'd sent him a look when he'd noted you of the bag's presence, remembering it wasn't there yesterday, to which he only explained Kyle got around and dropped off his things just after the Doctor had visited.

Although standard issued and didn't seem too heavy once you made the proposition to carry it instead of him, you cursed in disbelief when slinging it over your shoulder, not anticipating its weight. It had given John a good laugh before offering to take it regardless. However, you remained stubborn, motioning for him to take the lead out of the room with a 'you don't know how heavy our purses can be sometimes'.

But you don't enjoy a second of it as you trudge through the building; you more than John slowing the tempo. He catches you grumbling under your breath numerous times about what he's got in there, falling back to walk beside you once you reach the parking lot, mentioning he doesn’t desire looking back and find you toppled over in a heap of snow. He'd gotten another glare upon that comment.

You'd thought the drive home to John's would've been less arduous, but you'd found yourself unable to relax just as much, but for entirely different reasons.

With each turn of the car, you noticed how John braced his feet against the floor so as not to move in his seat, his free hand slipping beneath the seat belt to keep it from digging into his injury at times.

The way he acted made you all the more cautious in your driving, even picking routes that had more straight for his sake. You knew John noticed when you didn't take the usual right about halfway through the drive by the glance in your direction.

By the time you pulled into his driveway, the sky had darkened, and snow had started falling, making your and John's retreat into the house from the car hasty. Nonetheless, he managed to escape the weather that was worsening by the second much quicker compared to you as you fetched his bag from the booth.

You don't take more than a few steps into the foyer before you slip John's bag to the floor. When the pressure of the straps disappears, you sigh in relief.

John's chuckle makes you send him a glare. However, it melts away when your gaze finds the absolute disarray of his hair, now a combination of dirty and wet from the snow.

"Come one, I'll help you freshen up". You say, closing the door behind you, shielding you from the chilling cold.

"No need, love". You send him a look over your shoulder as you take off your coat, finding John stepping out of his barely laced boots.

"Why? You always have a shower when you get home?"

"If you have forgotten, can't get this wet for a day more". John nods to his shoulder as he faces you. "Can just wait 'till tomorrow".

Your brows furrow, and your hand falls to your hip while hanging up your coat. "John, I know how religious you are about your routine once you come home. There is no need to skip it just because you can't do it yourself when I simply can help".

You see his resolve falter somewhat as he regards you. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all", you shake your head. "Wouldn't mind a hot shower to warm up in this cold house of yours". A smile tugs in the corner of your lip when you end the sentence with an exaggerated wink.

It makes John chuckle as he shakes his head before those blue eyes rise to follow you when you approach. "Don't think I could supply that need now".

"Out of us two, I'm the one who can go a bit without being dicked-down". You kiss John's cheek as you slide the jacket from his shoulder, catching the harsh sigh as you wander to hang up his piece of clothing beside yours.

"That a challenge?" He hums as his un-injured arm sneaks around your waist as you finish your task, gently turning you around to pull you towards him. "Besides, I got other ways to satisfy you". 

"Oh, I know". You give John a softer look as your hand slides down his forearm before gripping his hand, moving it to hang beside your bodies. "But let's listen to the doctor for now and let you heal up first". You offer him a smile as you back away and head into the house, John letting himself be led by you as you steer towards the stairs.

Not until you've reached his bedroom do you let go of his hand, ushering him to the bathroom as you move to his dresser. You swiftly dig through it for a new pair of pants, opting not to bring a shirt, believing neither of you could bother the hassle of attempting to put it on.

"Strip", you wave your finger towards John as you step over the threshold to join him in the en suite.

"Thought Doc's orders applied". You catch the smugness in his voice, sending him a humoured look, one he answers with a wink as he moves to sit down on the lid of the toilet. While John rid himself of the pants he'd gotten from the hospital, you place his own pair on the sink. 

While he kicks them aside, your attention falls on the white shirt still covering his upper body. A furrow enters your brows, lips pursing. It would be challenge to take it off even if you helped him, being an uncomfortable and possibly painful process no doubt.

"Just cut it off". Your eyes meet John's, checking if you heard him right. With his head falling sideways in a nod, you move to the sink drawer to fetch the scissors, silently agreeing it might just be the easiest thing to do.

Mindful of the sling and bandages, you rid John of the thin cotton shirt, leaving him in only his boxers briefs. 

While you turn around to throw the strips of his shirt into the bin, John stands, moving around you toward the shower. By cocking your hip, you swiftly close the drawer after putting back the scissors.

As you turn to say something to John, you catch him stabilising himself on the edge of the sink, knees just about to bend. Realising what he is about to do, all your previous thoughts are promptly cut short.

”You’re not kneeling on the floor." John stalls in his movement, looking at you. If he says anything in return, you don't catch it as you're already on your way out of his room.

The spare bathroom, which was under renovation the first time you visited, has now been finished. But you remember the stool John had used was yet to be taken to the spare room downstairs. Although you'd reminded him about it every time you'd been over, now you were thankful as you could fetch it as something John could sit on rather than the floor.

With a slight shuffling step, you bring the stool along with you and to where John waits, leaning against the sink, his eyes finding you the second you're visible through the open door of his en suite.

"Sit”, you motion to the stool you brought once John had moved to the side and let you set it down inside the shower's glass doors. A slight tug that doesn't evolve into a smile is present at the edge of his mouth as he follows your command.

When John makes himself comfortable on the stool, you gently nudge the back of his head with your fingers, urging him to bow forward to make it easier for you. Even sitting down, he reaches your stomach.

Pushing up the sleeves of your hoodie, you turn on the tap, testing the water steadily flowing from the showerhead on your hand. When finally finding the perfect temperature, you keep the stream gentle so as not to splash the bandages covering his left arm but rather trickle forward and down to the floor. 

Small groans of appreciation escape John as you wash his hair, fingers running over his scalp to wet every single strand before setting down the showerhead and massaging some shampoo over his head. Earthy and clean scents fill the warm air as it steams every reflective surface inside the bathroom.

You do a double cleanse, not because you think John needs it, but because he seems to enjoy the gentle pressure off your fingers as they run up and down his scalp. 

After washing away the last sudds, you take a towel from the rack and cover his head. Your laughter fills the air as you hear the huff of amusement from beneath the fabric draped over him as you attempt to dry his hair as much as possible by ruffling the fabric.

Ultimately, you slide the towel from his head, letting it hang around his neck to catch any stray droplets from reaching his shoulder. John turns towards you upon having his vision uncovered again, and you instinctively step closer when he does, inspecting his face.

”I don’t trust myself trimming your beard”, you card your fingers through the brown strands on his cheek. A low huff pulls your eyes to the blue ones steadily watching you.

”Can do that myself in a day or two. You’ve done plenty enough, love”. John’s about to stand, but your hand softly settles on his healthy shoulder.

”I only said I don’t want to go near the best part of you with scissors”.

”The best part, eh?” He pinches the back of your lower thigh, a squeak slipping out of you as you bat his hand away with a lower lip curled between your teeth.

”Don’t bite the hand that feeds you”, you chide with an evolving smile. 

You catch John’s chuckle as you switch your attention to the counter, eyeing his products as neatly lined up as usual and the set of your own products beside them. Stepping away to the sink and out of his reach, you grab one of the face towels from the stack he’d bought for you to always have at his place, along with the other products needed.

When you turn back, you set the things on the sink-edge beside you. 

”Said I can’t shape it up, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the most out of what I can do”.

”You pamperin’ me?” Your eyes flit sideways, meeting a blue gaze watching you with a tilted head.

”I’m taking care of you, John”, you corrected him as you turned to wet your hands beneath the tap and squirted some cleanser into your hands. 

John doesn't respond, only remains quiet when you start coating his face in the milky substance, merely staring up at you for a few seconds before his eyes flutter close when you cock a brow down at him.

You gently rub away the invisible grime on his face, staying clear of his beard as you lather his face. Humming gently, you wipe away the suds after a few dozen seconds and continue with the beard shampoo. 

You’d seen the man, who now lets his chest deflate with a content sigh as you easily angle his head backwards with a few fingers beneath his chin, do his beard-routine a few times. It wasn’t difficult to remember, and you’re happy you didn’t need to ask John and bring him out of the relaxed state he’d entered as you used one of the brushes to rub the product into his beard.

Using the opposite edge of the towel, you also dry off his beard. 

You wash off the white foam from the brush as you discard the towel before coating his skin in your moisturiser, only to continue by dropping some oil into your palms before you settle them over his lower face, smoothening them over the strands. 

As you shift to the sink again, you reach for his comb, only to find John’s eyes had fluttered open when you turn back. 

Those blues of his are soft as you gently comb his facial hair with slow movements. His hand settles on the outside of your thigh when you pick up the beard balm, warming it between your palms. The vanilla white lotion softens and warms between your hands before you work it through his beard. 

Slowly, John's hand moves to the back of your leg while fingers lightly start tracing the line of his beard and skin, both much smoother than previously. 

The moment was soft, gazing at one another in silence, before you cupped John's cheek and bent down. A gentle smell of something nutty from John's beard invades your nose as you press your lips against his. 

Even if you end up trading multiple kisses, the pauses never let you drift further away than for your lips to rush against one another.

John felt the last bit of tension leave his body. Something awfully soft had infiltrated his heart as you fussed around him, your hand leaving gentler touches than even the Doc had done when he’d returned from the field with his shot-up shoulder. He’d tried to ward off your help and doting, but now he realised he needed this.

He’s been on 24/7 for over a week. He’s run on less food than at home. Countless times, his mouth had watered when thinking about the roast you’d shared before his deployment. He’s run on minimal sleep for several days in a row, barely more than half asleep when given a moment of tranquillity and nowhere near as relaxed as when having you in his arms. He’d looked over his shoulder for more than double the amount, only to be hit by a bullet in the end anyway, coming home broken.

John pulls away, cupping one of the hands that rests on his cheek, turning to kiss your palm. But, when he gazes at you again, your brows draw together.

”Don’t”.

"I didn’t say anythin'"

You only shake your head. "I know what you’re thinking, and no, you're not a burden".

"But I'm a broken man at the moment, love. Just see how much you've needed to do today", he scoffs, letting go of your hand, letting his fall onto his lap. You stop John from turning his head to the side, away from you, instead forcing him to watch you.

You look down at the man who meets your gaze with an almost sorrowful look. "And you think that bothers me?"

"Why wouldn’t it? It’s not your responsibility. Should just not have gone about gettin’ shot-".

"Jonathan Price". The use of his government name shuts his grumbling right up, his eyes even widening the slightest bit. "What bothers me isn’t that you got shot. I know the dangers of your work. What does bother me is seeing you in pain".

"I appreciate it, but there’s no need for you to do all this, to care for me". His voice is softer, but you still shake your head.

"Yes, there is because I love you". You barely notice the weight of what you say, those three chosen words leaving your lips in a too-natural fashion to be the first time. But rather than reluctance preceding and nerves following them, there's a sense of them being long overdue in the first place.

"I hate how much it hurts seeing your pain, so it’s not that I need to do anything for you. I very much care because I want to, John".

Compared to a few moments ago when John wanted to turn away from you, now he can't take his eyes off you. Whatever murky emotion which clouded his eyes has lifted, those blues clearer than ever as he stares right back at you, lips slightly parted.

"I’ve said it before, but you're too good for me".

"They say you get what you deserve". You offer John a smile, and something just crumbles then.

"God, you don’t know how much I love you, darlin’".

Your chest swells, heart suddenly pumping much warmer blood through your body. "So let me take care of you now when you need it".

"I- of course", he breathes, voice remarkably thin to support his gravelly cords as he shuts his eyes tightly. John gives you a single nod instead of attempting to continue his sentence, and you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. 

His arm loops around your waist the best it can from his slumped forward angle, pulling you close so his head rests against your upper stomach. Despite his hair being wet, you card your fingers through it, kissing the top of his head, his warm exhalation warming your skin despite the thick sweater.

"Goin’ to be one hell of a Christmas". The first half of the sentence is mumbled into you, the second half clearer as John looks up at you again.

You hum, feeling how one of the strands at the back of his neck drips water onto your fingers. "I only see more of a reason to have a lazy day".

"Where you do everythin’".

"Hush, now you’ve allowed me to do the work for once". You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck, looking back into those blues.

"Still don’t want you workin’ yourself to death". He gives you an honest rather than pointed look.

"I should say that to you", you only muse lightly in return, not needing to avert your eyes to his bandages as they shine like a beacon in the corner of your vision. "And I reckon it’s going to be fine either way".

"M’sure”, his reply is hummed into the sparse space between your faces before your lips press against his in a fleeting kiss. Before you lean back and straighten, however, his hand cups the back of your neck. "Thank you for all of this, love".

"You know it’s nothing". Although John doesn’t answer as you step backwards, you don’t catch any guilt, no trace of the previous gloom in his gaze. He believes your words, the crows-feet at the edges of his eyes and smile-lines around his mouth further proof.

[astrolovecosmos]

The Planets & Random or Obscure Associations

~Sun~

Creativity, vitality, head of state, the father, games, yellow and orange clothing, articles of value, jewelry, gold, brass, power, diamonds, citrine, topaz, jasper, amber, rhodochrosite, mistletoe, almonds, citrus, succulents, sunflowers, fevers, heart, back, spine, grapes, walnuts, rice, chamomile, frankincense, juniper, saffron, marigold, rosemary, rue, palaces, towers, luxury.

~Moon~

Eternal, cycles, silver, aluminum, pearls, moonstone, opal, selenite, chest, glands, lymphatic system, nervous system, emotions, mother, ancestors, nurture, rebirth, tides, baths, ocean, brew, boat, sap, willow trees, succulents, pale color plants, white flowers, cucumber, cabbage, lettuce, melons, shellfish, pumpkins, lakes, fountains, ports, fishponds, pools, springs, sewers, dairies, toys, reflection, blankets, objects of comfort.

~Mercury~

Communication, journal, pen/pencil, any writing tools, wings, phosphorous, mercury, agate, tiger's eye, brain, nervous system, eyes, respiration, thyroid, speech, hearing, intellect, vehicles, money, bills, paper, books, pictures, parties or social gatherings, scientific instruments, butterflies, messages, mail, hazel, mulberry, myrtle, seeds, aniseed, dill, fennel, lavender, liquorice, marjoram, parsley, valerian, hazelnuts, beans, mushrooms, pomegranates, carrots, celery, libraries, schools, markets, fairs, public spaces, tennis or badminton court, studies, banks, bowling greens, offices, blue, white, or light colored flowers.

~Venus~

Love, relating, lust, high-quality fabrics, copper, bronze, sodium, malachite, tourmaline, emerald, rose quartz, kunzite, sapphire, pastels, throat, kidneys, lumber region, art, music, aesthetics, social life, fashion, jewelry, wine, pleasure, alder tree, fruit trees, paint, ash tree, birch, pomegranates, early flowering, daisy, mint, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mugwort, plantain, tansy, roses, thyme, vervain, yarrow, potatoes, strawberries, wheat, sugar, nectarines, ballrooms, bedrooms, dining room, gardens, fountains, wardrobes, theaters, looking and feeling good.

~Mars~

Lust, conquest, desire, flaming sword, red things, fights, iron, brass, bloodstone, carnelian, cinnabar, pyrite, magnetite, ruby, garnet, hematite, muscles, reproductive organs, blood, kidneys, immunity, heat, action, arms, pepper, sharp instruments, cutlery, attacks, scissors, weapons, physical intimacy, bites, stings, scalds, burns, accidents, hawthorn, pine, thorns, cactus, aloes, anemone, arnica, belladonna, garlic, ginger, hops, mustard seed, nettles, wormwood, chives, onions, leeks, radish, rhubarb, tobacco, labs, furnaces, distilleries, bakehouses, ovens, smiths, butchers, fields, anger, passion, self-focus.

~Jupiter~

Expansion, optimism, religion, religious sites, tin, seduction, turquoise, chrysocolla, topaz, citrine, jasper, liver, pancreas, pituitary gland, sciatic nerve, excess, abundance, prophecy, philosophy, knowledge, universities, foreign travel, luggage, honey, oil, silk, fruit, distinct clothing, merchandise, horses, domestic birds, gambling, indulgence, entertainment, oak, dandelion, sage, endive, chervil, asparagus, figs, churches, temples, palaces, altars, courts, mansions, woods, orchards, winery, cornucopia, connecting with the soul.

~Saturn~

Limits, boundaries, father time, lord of death, shadows, lead, iron, steel, calcium, asbestos, sulphur, diamond, onyx, calcite, skeleton, spleen, skin, teeth, nails, joints, structure, crystallization, old age, blockage, anything dark, wool, heavy materials, agriculture, wheelbarrows, spades, farm houses and buildings, cold, laws, aspen, blackthorn, buckthorn, cypress, elm, toxic plants, hemlock, henbane, belladonna, hellebore, barley, beetroot, safflower, parsnips, spinach, deserts, woods, valleys, caves, church yards, ruins, coalpits, sinks, wells, mud, institutions.

~Uranus~

Eccentrics, mavericks, invention, genius, revolution, change, trends, disruptive science or tech, uranium, magnesium, lapis lazuli, sapphire, aquamarine, azurite, chalcedony, electricity, neon lights, plaid, nervous and circulatory system, pineal gland, chaos, violence, upheaval, astrology, steam engines, coal, machinery, coins, baths, fishponds, dangerous places, computers, magnets, quantum physics, research, welfare, humanity, hypnotherapy, railways, banks, gas, psychiatric hospitals, offices, hospitals, dispensaries, fortified places, chemicals, mingled/mingling, spirit and matter.

~Neptune~

Illusions, veils, diffuse, deception, water, oceans, mysticism, enlightenment, artistic pursuit and understanding, zinc, potassium, amethyst, fluorite, jade, sugilite, coral, aquamarine, pineal gland, lymphatic and nervous system, spine, mental processes, addiction, psychoses, disease, photography, music, substances, gas, religion, poetry, mimicry, chameleon, anesthetic, telepathy, empathy, dancing, psychic gifts, places near water, hospitals, places of healing, jeweler, painters, brewers, musicians, visionary.

~Pluto~

Power, influence, darkness, new life, what's hidden underneath, seeds, volcanoes, deep earth or ocean, bury, explosions, eruptions, abduction, plutonium, smoky quartz, obsidian, jet, pearl, deep reds, reproductive organs, the unconscious, nuclear, transformation, death, birth, rebirth, underworld, riches, earthquakes, big business, murder, detection, detective, invisibility, sneak, enforced change, hidden places, underground, drains, sewers, radioactive places, the occult, black magic, sacrifice, renew.

[cailinsblog]

Home for the Holidays-

nico hischier x reader

No warnings are needed for this story! It's a sweet, heartwarming romance with no mature or intense content. Just a cozy, feel-good holiday vibe!

Snow was softly falling outside Nico’s window, covering the world in a shimmering blanket of white. Christmas break was here, but despite the festivity, Nico couldn’t help feeling a bit homesick. He missed the snowy Alps, the warmth of his family’s home, and the comforting smell of his mom’s cooking. It was hard not being in Switzerland for the holidays.

But there was one silver lining this season—his next-door neighbor, Y/N. She had become his close friend since he moved into the building. They shared inside jokes, late-night chats, and cups of coffee on cold mornings. He’d developed a soft spot for her, though he tried his best to hide it, not wanting to risk ruining their friendship.

One chilly December morning, Y/N noticed Nico looking especially down. She had picked up on his longing for home, even if he hadn’t explicitly said it. So, determined to bring a bit of comfort his way, she decided to bake him something special. Though Y/N wasn’t Swiss, she loved learning about different cultures, and after some research, she settled on making Lussekatter—Swedish saffron buns. With their golden color and delicate taste, she hoped they might cheer him up.

Later that afternoon, she knocked on his door, a small tray of freshly baked buns in hand. Nico opened the door, surprised to see her standing there with a shy smile and the sweet-smelling treats.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I know you’re missing home, so I made you these. They’re not exactly Swiss, but I thought they might help a little.”

Nico’s eyes softened, touched by her thoughtfulness. He took a bun, tasting the warm, fluffy pastry, savoring the delicate hint of saffron. “Thank you, Y/N. This… means a lot to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He looked at her, feeling his heart swell, but he held back, unsure if she felt the same way.

Y/N, on the other hand, had butterflies in her stomach just being around him. She’d liked Nico for a while now but convinced herself he only saw her as a friend. Seeing him smile, though, made her heart flutter with hope.

The next day, Nico knocked on her door with a surprise of his own. “Hey, so I was thinking—how about I repay you for those amazing buns?” he said, holding out two tickets to a Devils game. “I’d love for you to come.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Nico, you don’t have to…”

“I insist,” he replied, grinning. “Besides, it wouldn’t be the same without my favorite fan there.”

Blushing, she accepted, and Nico handed her a Devils jersey with his number and name on the back. She slipped it on, and his eyes lit up, seeing her in his colors. “It suits you,” he said softly, and she felt a thrill at the way his gaze lingered on her.

At the game that night, Y/N cheered Nico on, her heart pounding every time he took the ice. It was exhilarating, watching him play with such skill and focus. Late in the third period, the score was tied. Nico skated towards the net, effortlessly maneuvering past the defense and flicked his wrist, sending the puck soaring into the top corner. Goal!

He skated to the boards, looking up to where she was seated, and pointed at her, a bright, triumphant grin lighting up his face. Her breath caught as their eyes met, and her cheeks flushed. She couldn’t believe he’d just done that in front of the entire stadium.

After the game, Nico found her waiting outside the locker room, still buzzing with excitement. “You were amazing, Nico!” she said, pulling him into a hug, her face bright with pride.

He held her close, savoring the warmth of her embrace. “Thanks to you,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world fell away. Nico’s voice was soft as he finally spoke up, gathering the courage he’d been holding back. “Y/N, I… I’ve liked you for a long time. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her heart racing as she realized she wasn’t the only one. “I’ve liked you too, Nico,” she admitted, a shy smile spreading across her face. “I just thought you saw me as a friend.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I could never just be friends with you.” Then, as if the universe were giving them permission, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips warm and soft against hers.

They broke apart, grinning at each other, feeling like they were on top of the world. This Christmas break, Nico might have been far from home, but he realized he was exactly where he wanted to be—right there with Y/N.

Reblog and comment

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Two strangers, not strangers

Only lacking the knowing

So willing, feeling

Infinite growing

While we're here, the whole world is turning

We should be, one, fulfilling the yearning

You can see inside me, will you come inside me

Do you wanna ride, inside my love"

Trina Broussard— "Inside my Love"

A.N.: Content Warning. Smut ahead. Grown folks only. 18+.

Celeste's left hand jerked out wildly to flip on the light switch inside her home. The cottage lit up with a bright pink glow from her vintage stained-glass Tiffany lamps. Her legs were still wrapped around Terry's hips. She climbed down his tree-trunk body and stepped aside, letting him swagger past the threshold of her home. A black baby grand piano that belonged to a deceased aunt had bags of feathers, beads, unfinished patches, and sequins strewn all across it, making the front of the place look messy and disheveled.

"I'll just move these into the other room where they belong," she said.

Terry looked past her into the living room. A smirk crinkled his lips. Celeste looked over her shoulder.

"Oh my, God. I'm so sorry that you see that…give me a second…"

She hurried past him to pick up the ten-inch dildo left in the middle of the floor with the camera set up.

"I know this looks weird…shit…shit…" she sputtered, frantically pulling up the dildo that released with a loud suction pop from the wooden floor. She gathered up the bottle of lube, pillows and dumped them into her sewing room.

Terry took a seat on the recliner end of her purple leather sectional that took up most of the space in the living room right after the baby grand. He watched her pick up the pillows and a sheet, tossing them into her bedroom. She walked back out with her hands on top of her head, embarrassed beyond measure.

"That looked bad…I know."

"Well, you're single now. Looks like you planned a fun night for yourself," he said.

The playfulness of his voice relaxed her, and she pointed toward her kitchen.

"I'll make us those hot drinks," she said, grabbing his bag of leftover food and scampering off.

"Take your time," he called out.

Celeste put his food in the fridge and pulled out a container of half and half. She rested her hands on the kitchen sink and closed her eyes. The shame! She browbeat her own self for not straightening out the living room before she left. Of course, she hadn't planned on inviting him over. Time to save face.

She poured water into a stainless steel percolator and opened a tin of chicory coffee from Café Du Monde, then poured a measured scoop into the coffee filter. After it started bubbling, she grabbed two coffee mugs from her cupboard and prepared their drinks with half and half and a couple of sugar cubes.

"Get it together…pretend the dildo never happened," she whispered to herself before carrying the mugs out into the living room.

She set their coffee down on two coasters and sat demurely next to him. Her locs flowed over her shoulders, giving her a regal appearance.

"Your home is very eclectic…feels cozy too," he said, surveying her taste in vibrant, colorful decorations.

She filled her walls with Mardi Gras feathers and personal beadwork that she mounted on frames, along with pictures of mid-century carnival second lines and jazz funerals. There were whimsical art nouveau pieces from specialty shops around town she purchased of stain-glassed butterflies and Black fairies. French doors that led to the small courtyard out back stayed hidden behind saffron double-laced drapes that her grandmother made for her.

She jumped up and dimmed the setting on the lamp lights. Her purse sat on top of the baby grand. She checked the front door lock to make sure it was secure.

"Your phone kept buzzing in your purse," he said.

He'd lifted his coffee mug and puckered his lips to blow the hot steam away from the drink. Celeste rummaged through her purse and pulled out her cell. Mercy and Nae Nae had both responded to the group text she sent out. She ran her fingertip across the keypad, letting them know he was in her home having coffee. Three green chat bubbles danced on the screen as Mercy typed back something.

YOU BROUGHT THAT MAN HOME WITH YOU?!

Celeste glanced at Terry who sipped his drink and surveyed the surroundings like it was a museum installation. Her artsy style always impressed visitors, especially with the limited space a cottage afforded her. She typed a quick message back.

I'LL LET Y'ALL KNOW HOW THINGS GO IN CASE I NEED THE CAVALRY!

Celeste carried her silenced phone back to the couch and placed it on a side table. She joined Terry and savored the coffee after a pleasant outing.

"This is very good. A nice way to end the evening with you," he said.

She fretted in her seat, wondering how to salvage the poor impression she made on him. He reached over and stroked her arm.

"Are you still thinking about the sex toy on the floor?"

Celeste's head slumped forward, and he laughed again, the rich baritone filling up her home and taking the tension out of her shoulders. Those emerald eyes worked their magic again like they did in the restaurant, driving her to spill out her life in intimate ways she'd never do with anyone else on a first date.

"I can explain—"

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

She tucked a thick loc behind one ear and left his side for a second and retrieved the plantation pictures from her refrigerator.

Handing them to Terry, she sat next to him again.

"One day I want to buy a home like these. I've been saving money and working two jobs for the last two years. On top of my sewing and hustling extra money, I ventured into online fetish content. I have pretty feet, so…I created a website on a BDSM platform to sell explicit pictures and videos. I filmed my first video tonight…right before you called me out for dinner."

"Okay…is that it?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need a director?"

Celeste cackled and threw a hand over her mouth, and Terry grinned, looking at her legs. He lifted her left foot and tugged at her modest heel.

"I want to see these pretty feet men are paying to see," he teased.

She brushed at his hand, but he already pulled the heel off. He gently massaged her toes through the thigh-high, sheer black stockings and his touch shot ticklish sparks up her leg.

"You stand on your feet all day…working hard to achieve your dream. I'd never judge you for doing something that helps you do that. I think it's sexy. You do have attractive feet, by the way…"

He stared at her foot as he kept kneading out the day through his fingers and she leaned back in the sectional to give him more room to work. She even kicked off the other shoe, and he worked on that tired foot, too.

"You deserve the world, Celeste Profitt," he said.

He kissed each toe of her left foot and inched his soft lips to her ankle and further along her leg until he stopped above the kneecap, just at the junction where the stocking and her uncovered skin met.

"Is this okay?" he asked, waiting for permission to continue.

"Yesss," she hissed, bewitched by those eyes that transformed into something dangerous…predatory.

Was this how the devil tricked Eve inside the Garden of Eden? Not by ripe red apples or promises of wisdom, but jade jewels for eyes that blazed with seduction. His lids nearly closed to mere slits, and the blood in her veins chilled at how viper-like he looked arched across her leg.

The cautious voice of Celeste's cousin rattled in her ear with his warning from the night on Bourbon Street.

"Uh uh…no ma'am. Leave that one alone."

Dangerous.

Sinful.

Unholy.

Her eyes blurred. She looked at Terry as if she'd plunged under water and the liquid distorted her vision. His canine teeth seemed sharper than she remembered them being. He slid his tongue across them and she blinked, thinking the pink lighting in her home played tricks on her.

"Terry…"

He slithered his lips onto her lower inner thigh and pushed her dress up to her hips, revealing her thong underwear. Licking her thigh, the moisture from his tongue soaked through the stocking. Celeste stayed still, afraid to break the spell he had over her.

"May I keep going?" he asked.

"Please," she said, with a quiver in her voice.

He gave the crotch of her thong a delicate kiss with his plush lips, moving higher until the tip of his tongue twirled around her clit. The friction from the thong combined with the pressure of his tongue on her sensitive jewel arched her back high. She palmed his head with both hands, hoping to tether herself. Her vulva swelled with juicy arousal and her inner labia puffed with engorgement. He hooked a finger and slid her thong aside.

"Here is the real meal," he hummed, pushing his mouth into her vulva.

His tongue traced invisible sigils of circular shapes and Celeste watched her pussy slicken his mouth until it glistened with her wetness. He slathered her labia with saliva and dragged his wide, hot tongue along her inner thigh. She yelped when she felt a nip from his teeth on her flesh and then a sharp numbness flooded that area, removing the sting of pain.

He licked her vulva again before feasting on her clit, sucking it with a dexterous mouth that never stopped tasting, teasing, and licking every inch of her pussy.

"You taste so good…the blood…your pussy…so good…" he hummed into her flesh.

Her skin aflame, Celeste let all the exquisite sensations flow through her body. She needed this. Needed this man. Needed his mouth. His tongue. His rough teeth…

Another quick stinging sensation pricked her thigh again, and Terry took his time sucking on that spot and fingering her clit. He plucked at the responsive bud.

"Terry!" she cried out, unable to endure the pleasure of his mouth on her thigh and his fingers playing a symphony on her clit at the same time.

The palm of his huge hand pushed her back down and held her in place.

"Do. Not. Move."

The stern tone forced her into submission. She wanted to obey. Badly. His tongue and lips became savage instruments on her pussy. He pushed her legs back, and she held them for him while he ripped her thong into shreds yanking them off. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling as she noticed the feeling of intoxication taking over her body. It was like being high on exceptional weed or rolling on high-grade ecstasy. Their shadows mingled above her, performing their own sexual dance separate from them.

Terry rose above her, and she could clearly see the heavy erection bulging through his pants. She whimpered at the sight. His shit was big. Gold help her. He lowered his face and kissed her, the taste of her pussy and chicory coffee delicious in her own mouth. She licked her wetness from his lips and he held still to enjoy her tongue's affectionate ministrations.

He maneuvered himself comfortably in the recliner and tugged on her dress.

"Take this off for me," he said. "I want to feel you against me."

Celeste stood and pulled her dress over her head. It tangled in her hair and she fussed with the long locs until she became free, standing before him in her bra and stockings.

"It should be illegal for you to be this sexy," he said, his eyes lifting up and down her shapely physique like an elevator.

He zeroed in on her vulva and licked his lips again.

Celeste unhooked her bra from the back and let it slip down to the floor. Her breasts looked tantalizing in the pink lighting. Terry palmed their fullness and pushed them together. He gently pinched both nipples until they stood like dark cinnamon hard candies. Delectable and sugary sweet.

He engulfed the left nipple and sucked on it, causing it to grow stiffer and more sensitive. She moaned and tilted her head back. The pleasure of his licking and sucking increased her lust for him. She stroked the waves in his hair and he pushed his face between her breasts. Her fullness pleased him because he groaned and spoke her name into her chest, the warm air from his mouth arousing her to a fever pitch. Her pussy throbbed, and he continued sucking and fondling until her legs quaked. She thought she would faint in his arms.

"Beautiful breasts, heavy the way I like them…should I cum on them now, or later?" he asked.

"Later," she said with a breathy moan, wanting to keep him there longer to stretch out her pleasure.

He turned her around and stood. Pushing her locs aside, he kissed the back of her neck and trailed a methodical line down her spine with his tongue, waking up every nerve ending on her back. She whimpered and allowed herself to stay focused on every part of her body that he catered to, like he was priming her for something extraordinary.

He sat on the sectional again and kissed each of her ass cheeks. Afterward, he struck each one with a fully open palm.

"The recoil is crazy," he said.

She turned to face him and lowered her lips for another languid kiss, pleased that every part of her body excited him. Her locs shrouded him in a curtain of thick coiling ropes, reminding her of Medusa trapping an unsuspecting victim who stumbled into her lair. His tranquil eyes stopped her from making contact with his lips. They stared at her in wonder, and she recognized a kindred spirit within them. Yes, there in the center of his pupils, reflected back to her, was a yearning for something more in the world. A longing for another soul to banish the loneliness with true companionship. He was the only legacy of his family, a widower with just an elderly grandmother to care for. Her eyes welled up, and he brushed away her tears with his thumb.

"Why are you crying, beautiful Celeste?"

"I want what you want."

He wrenched his eyes away.

"And what do you think I want?" he asked.

"Someone for yourself. Just like me. When was the last time you had anyone in your life…for a relationship?"

His eyes snapped shut, and he tilted his neck.

"Long enough that I don't care to remember."

"But you want that, right? A chance to have someone of your own again?"

An inner struggle flashed behind those emerald eyes.

"Maybe this was a mistake. I should leave before this goes any further," he said.

"Please…don't leave. I like you and I want you here with me."

He stroked her cheek and pushed his fingers into her locs, tangling them until his hand became lost in the thick forest of hair.

"I like you too…you sweet, sexy…vulnerable woman."

"Vulnerable?"

She rose, and he didn't let go of her hair.

"Your heart is so open…so wide open…and pure. People sense that, and you attract them like a beacon of light in a shadowy world. You can't even see what a safe harbor you are for others. It's why you have so many friends and why so many people gravitate to you…want to be near you."

"Except for people I want to be with," she said, thinking of all the boyfriends she pinned her hopes on over the last five years.

"The one made for you just hasn't arrived yet. You must be patient. Steadfast."

"Maybe you're the one for me."

He pressed the side of his face against her breasts and rested there. She rubbed his hair and hummed a soft, made-up tune until he stood abruptly.

"Terry…don't…don't go," she pleaded.

Her tone kept him from stepping further from her grasp. She threw her arms around his waist and refused to let him go. He circled his arms around her shoulders and they stayed in that position for a long time, listening to each other breathe. Her heart beat out an anxious rhythm and she couldn't stop trembling, fearful he would still walk out on her. He gave her peace. Pleasure. A hope for something better.

"I want you to stay."

Those words must've been the magic key to get him functioning again. Lowering his lips, he kissed her, and his arms instinctively relaxed around her, as if they were always meant to be there.

She pulled away and held both his hands, leading him to her bedroom. Feeling confident in her choice for the night, she lit the large gold votive candles on both of her low, bed-side tables to create a romantic ambiance. She thanked Jesus that she made her bed up after breakfast that morning. The room was in less disarray than the living room. Without trepidation, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and gasped when she revealed the gift that was his chest. The chiseled abdominal V lines looked unreal and she glanced at his eyes to show him how much she appreciated the effort he made to keep his body tight.

Terry slowly pulled off his shirted and kicked off his shoes while Celeste unfastened his leather belt. The thin gold buckle had an intricate square design, and as she unzipped his slacks, he grabbed the back of her neck and smashed his lips against hers, sealing the deal in her bedroom. His tongue snaked into her mouth with such force that she gasped for breath, putting a pause on further actions until she could touch his clothing without her fingers shaking.

A corner of her mind buzzed with a subtle warning, but the rest of her brain worked on autopilot. She might never see this man again, but she was going to enjoy him for as long as he was in her presence. He slipped his pants and underwear down, wiggling his legs free. She helped slide his black dress socks off and willingly dropped to her knees as he gripped his dick and stroked it.

In the candlelight, the girth and length went beyond what she imagined, and the color was also a darker shade with the engorgement of blood. His balls hung like fat, round fruit with a thick, dark brown seam down the middle. His erection had a slightly upward curve and the wide head showed a slit already dripping with pre-cum. Her clit twitched at the sight and she moaned when her pussy throbbed deep within her walls. She touched her vulva and the glossy natural lubrication there caused Terry's nostrils to flair. He sniffed the air and his eyes latched onto hers.

"You want me?" he asked.

"I do."

"Show me."

Celeste gripped the weight of his dick in her hand. Hot, thick, and ready, the veins crossing the sides pulsed and the entire thing felt alive. He thrust the head inside her eager mouth, stuffing it so full of hard dick that she choked on it, gagging until she pulled it out to adjust her ability to handle all of it. He grasped a few of her locs by the root and held her head steady, pushing his erection down her throat again. The gawking sounds she created with his face fucking seemed so shameless in her bedroom. Saliva dripped down her chin and dropped onto her breasts and he pinched one of her nipples to keep her focused on deep-throating him.

She pushed a hand against his stomach to control the depth, and that didn't stop him from fucking her mouth into submission. This is what she wanted. She held her hands against his rock-hard thighs and worked her neck to the best of her abilities. He threw his head back to bark out her name in a heated rush of sound and fury. She took that tiny respite to lick her tongue across the veins on his dick and lifted it so she could tend to his balls. Licking down the seam, she opened her mouth wide to suck on each sack, paying close attention to how sensitive he was between his legs. He accepted her skillful licks on the underside of his dick as she worked her way back to the bulbous tip. She let it sit on her lips and stared up at him.

He reached for her waist before he released any cum, his breath full of heavy pants and moans barely articulating her name clearly. Terry lifted her up, and she locked her legs around his hips again. He crawled onto the bed, carrying her with his dick wedged between her slick folds that spread against his length.

Their shadows mirrored their movement as he dropped her onto the firm mattress, covered in a fluffy orange and pink blanket. Celeste kept her hands draped around his neck. Their lips joined, and they shared slow, deep kisses that had her mouth watering like a river and her pussy constantly throbbing, yearning to be stretched and filled. He reached down to her clit and fingered her slowly. While kissing, her mind spun into a funnel of euphoria. Every stroke on her clit from his thick fingers forced delirious pants from her into his craven mouth.

"Would you like to cum on my fingers, Celeste?" he purred in her ear, dipping his tongue in and out. He licked the shell of her ear and moaned her name like a sacred mantra.

Words failed her as she murmured indecipherable sounds. Two of his fingers dipped lower and plunged into a molten pussy that squelched with his tender, shallow thrusts.

"Tight pussy…" he moaned.

In the candlelight of her bedroom, his eyes shined with an eroticism she didn't know could exist. Every breath she took stayed in synch with his, as if he were orchestrating a love-conquering like some forbidden dark lothario sneaking into a young maiden's boudoir. Her upper half rose from the bed as he fingered her pussy with such care that she couldn't see straight anymore.

"That's a good girl…I love how you squeeze around my fingers like that. Deeper? Is that what you want, my love? Oh, yes…you know how to take it deep…"

He removed his fingers to taste her wetness, and a weak mewling sound fell from her lips. It turned into pitiful whimpering as he returned those thick digits to the center of her being, digging deeper and deeper. Whipping her head back and forth, Celeste couldn't contain the surge of pleasure that coursed under the dermis of her skin and not just the top layer. Whatever he was doing crept into a deeper part of her carnal need. He tapped into something primal.

"Cum for me, Celeste. I want to see you break apart on my fingers. Can you do that for me? Look how beautiful you look jumping on this bed…just for me."

Hunched over her writhing frame, he kept his gorgeous face three inches away from hers and the lustful scrutiny in his eyes burst a damn within her. She broke down and begged for an orgasm.

"Make me cum, Terry! Ohmigod…I can't take any more—"

"Yes, you can. You're a big girl…you can take whatever…I…give…you."

His index and middle finger tapped against her walls, and his thumb rubbed hard circles into her clit. Celeste's eyes rolled back and her body jerked on the bed. Her pussy spasmed all around his fingers.

"Terry!" she wailed.

He pushed his lips against her mouth and swallowed the shouting she couldn't contain. A full body shudder took over, and he talked her through that too, his baritone becoming a lullaby of praise.

"That's my good girl. You lasted longer than you thought you could. Look how proud I am of you. See how hard my dick is? See it? All for you. Your beautiful body still shakes and clenches my fingers. You're wonderful, truly wonderful baby…"

He kissed her from the top of her head and all across her breasts. His moist lips gave butterfly kisses down to her belly button and beyond. Celeste didn't think her body would ever stop shaking. He lingered on her pussy, giving her a loving aftercare with his tongue and mouth. His patient touches brought her down from the explosive orgasm, and she drifted into a comfortable, dreamy state of bliss.

"My beautiful queen," he murmured into her thighs.

Bathed in sweat, Celeste glimpsed the flickering of her shadow on the ceiling from the candlelight. She blinked sweat from her eyes.

Why did it look like her shadow was the only one up there?

She rose onto her elbows, trying to understand what kind of optical illusion she was witnessing, but Terry hooked her attention away from the lone shadow and cuddled with her on the bed.

"I loved watching your face as you came," he said.

Feeling shy and unable to think of anything to say, she rubbed on his bicep and looked at the star and crescent tattoo.

"Are you Muslim?" she said, tracing her index finger under the crescent.

"No."

"But this is a Muslim tattoo."

"It's not. This is actually an old symbol for the sun and the moon. It represents the balance of power that comes from those heavenly bodies."

"Masculine and feminine energy."

"Not exactly, but that is a cool interpretation."

"It's shaped like New Orleans…this crescent is the mighty Mississippi River…the sharp bend in the water that curves around my city like a smile that says bon matin when the sun comes up and…what is that?"

She pointed to the glint of pale iridescent ink that wasn't visible with the naked eye until another form of light struck it above the eight-pointed star. Here, it was the candles on the nightstands. The tattoo turned into a fully closed circle with the star in the center.

"I had a clever tattoo artist experimenting with new ink," he said.

"As above, so below," she said, touching the top part of the circle. "Or…night and day."

She kissed the star on his bicep and studied the features of his face.

"Can you stay with me all night, Terry?"

"I will stay for as long as you want."

She smiled and lifted herself so that she could look directly into his eyes.

"I want to make love with you. I want to feel you inside of me so deep that I cry," she said, her lips trembling with emotion.

He brushed back the hair from her shoulder and rubbed on her hip.

"I will give you everything you want. Ask and you shall receive," he said.

His lips didn't move, but she heard his voice in her head clearly. Succinctly.

"Give me what I want," she said, lying back on the bed.

Terry wasted no time hooking her legs over his arms and settling between her thighs.

"I love how the brown gives way to the delicate pink," he said.

The tip of his dick pressed against her labia, parting them, revealing the inner flesh the color of pink cotton candy surrounded by the chocolaty brown of her vulva. Celeste glanced over at her nightstand drawer, knowing there were condoms inside. In her heightened state, prophylactics were the last thing she cared about. She didn't even ask Terry if he carried any. It didn't matter. Her body floated on a current of biological urges that she couldn't control. The quiet part of her mind latched on to the brown plastic baby on top of the nightstand that she nearly swallowed eating the King Cake two nights ago. Protect your womb. She ignored the warning.

"Look at me, Celeste," he said.

She turned her head and luxuriated in the feel of him holding her. This she would remember as the before time with him, the small window of opportunity to escape that she squandered because of the overpowering persona Terry presented to her. She caved into her libido.

Unprotected heart.

Unprotected sex.

Unprotected soul.

"Say yes," he said above her, those sensual eyes piercing her psyche.

"Yes—"

The world slowed to a crawl.

Terry pushed into her depths and she accepted all of his thickness as a blessing. She clawed at his back and watched the lone shadow dance across her ceiling as tears pricked her eyes and coursed down her cheeks.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened…and I will give you rest," she murmured to her shadow above, not knowing why that passage in the bible slipped from her mouth.

With each stroke Terry gave her, the shape of his dick tugged on her clit, causing Celeste to cry out to God, emphasizing the ecstasy she experienced. Their union shattered any perception she had of what lovemaking could be.

His mouth stayed buried in neck, sucking on it and speaking life into the delirious flesh that submitted to his will. Her bed squeaked and bounced with the headboard smacking the wall so hard she thought for sure they would crash out onto the street.

He leaned back to watch his dick plunge in and out, the ramrod brown parting her labia that fit around him like a second skin for his erection. Her pussy turned into a magician, making that dick disappear and re-appear shinier than her mama's polished silver. The hard heat of it kept her panting and clinging to his arms. Every part of her body, from a single follicle on her scalp to the callous on the bottom of her right foot, felt the rapturous gratification. Full body orgasms washed across her in steady waves until it reached a feverish pitch. Terry sensed the coming explosion and flipped her over onto her stomach. He straddled her thighs, hunkered down, and pounded her pussy. The loud smacks of their bodies colliding added to the intense carnality. He held her neck down, but she could still look back at him with glossy brown eyes that pleaded for him to never stop.

"Fuck me!" she yelled.

Terry's brows furrowed while putting his back into it, and perspiration dripped from his forehead, landing on her back. She could feel it rolling down to the crack of her ass and mingling with her own sweat. Awareness of all sensations grew tenfold. Even his grunts created vibrations she could feel across her skin.

"Celeste!" he roared, bucking harder against her ass, stretching her pussy wide open.

The sound of her name fell onto the back of her neck and burrowed into the raging skin like the tactile sensations of a finger stroking it. Their fucking was outrageous. She reveled in it. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and he kissed her, keeping his stroke game going.

"You feel so good…all around my dick…make me feel you more, baby…I'll give you what you need any time you want it. Hear me? Shit! Right there, right there, right there…lemme hit that spot deeper right there…so fucking tight on this dick!"

She twisted on her side slightly so that he could still see the side of her ass, as well as her breasts. He volleyed those wondrous eyes on her ass and face, not wanting to miss any action on either one. He grabbed a fistful of locs and used them like reins to slow his gyrating thrusts. Agonizingly slow, Terry rolled his hips and varied his hard pumps from deep to shallow, driving her to the edge.

Eyes locked, he spoke five devastating words.

"Can I cum inside you?"

His body moved with sinuous elegance, rocking into her with a heat on the verge of losing control. She clenched her walls around him and he groaned, his lips forming a startled "O" shape. His head fell back, and Celeste watched sensual pleasure twitch every muscle in his cheeks and forehead. He had the face of an angel, and she seared that image of him in her brain forever.

"Lemme cum inside you…please…lemme cum…."

"I want you to cum."

"Tell me…"

"I want you to cum inside me."

"Say it again."

His eyes trapped her. She would do anything he said. Follow him anywhere. Give him anything.

"Cum inside your pussy," she begged.

"All this is mine?"

He tugged on her locs harder.

"Yours…all yours…"

He pushed her left leg over until she was back in missionary. Twining both legs around his hips, she gasped at the friction of her clit brushing against his wiry pubic hairs that were soaked by her wetness. He was so deep inside of her that her stomach moved with each thrust.

"You belong to me now. Do you understand this?"

In the hazy glow of their lovemaking, Celeste nodded. He palmed her breast and fondled it.

"All of this belongs to me. No harm shall come to you as long as you belong to me…"

His words sounded more like an incantation than love talk. She squeezed her pussy to show she had love magic, too.

"Damn, Celeste, I'm 'bout to bust…I can't hold back…"

"Cum for me…please…take this pussy…oh…shit!"

She let go.

Her climax started behind her eyes, watching him seize up and cum, his semen spilling into her, hot and fast, coating her walls, filling her to the brim. Her pussy throbbed, milking his dick, and they both watched the lower part of his erection pulse as it pushed out an elixir that would doom her future.

"Fucckkk!" he shrieked, falling forward and covering her with his big, heavy body.

She held him tight, delighting in every after-climax shiver and shake his body made because of her. Her own body quivered with aftershocks, too.

"You are incredible. I was not expecting all that," he said, falling away from her, panting and rubbing sweat on his chest.

She snuggled against his side and he pulled her in close, both needing to feel their warmth and sweat co-mingling. Unfortunately, her bladder called for attention and she crept away to pee.

Inside her bathroom, she giggled at her reflection in the mirror. Her nipples were still hard and her pussy kept twitching, missing the feel of his dick stuffing it full. This was going to be a problem. Sex that good could become dangerously addictive.

Her face took on a somber expression, thinking about not using a condom. She quickly opened her sink cabinet and pulled out a small box of Plan B. She ripped the box open, popped the pill in her mouth, and used sink water to wash it down. A trip to the clinic would be in order to check for STDs. She was too grown at twenty-seven to be moving ass backwards with her sexual health.

How many times had she told younger cousins to use protection at all times?

Hypocrite.

Celeste grabbed a clean wash cloth from the wall shelf above the toilet and gave herself a quick PTA cleaning. She padded back to her bedroom and lost her breath looking at the fine man lying on his side under the covers waiting for her.

"Hey beautiful," he said, lifting the blanket for her to join him.

Celeste wasted no time climbing in beside her favorite lover.

He spooned around her backside and she noticed something peculiar before she blew out the candles. There were two shadows back on the ceiling again. Hers. And his.

Chapter 7 HERE.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@megane96

@honeytoffee

@taurusqueen83

@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@hrlzy