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loveharlow · 5 months ago

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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.1k] A certain pogue is out of jail which means a certain handful of Kooks should be going in, unless they found some way out of it...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ death, strained friendship, tw! topper, mentions of drowning

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ A lil TR x Sarah bonding until it all goes to shit of course, BUT A LOT OF GOOD THINGS HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER! Sorry for the angst streak :/ also, the scene between TR and JJ is loosely based on this scene between Brooke and Lucas from One Tree Hill.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE SOUND OF CHICKENS CLUCKING AND KIARA PLUCKING THE STRINGS ON HER UKELELE SOUNDED IN THE QUIET OF THE YARD. The four of you — you, JJ, Kiara, and Pope, were in the surf shack at The Chateau. It was early in the morning.

JJ was waxing his board as Kiara played her instrument, you and Pope standing idly by. You were starting to get worried. It’d been almost twelve hours since your confrontation with Shoupe and nothing seems to have changed. You hoped it wasn’t all for nothing.

But another question was on your tongue…

“...Has anyone seen Sarah?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sunlight. Everyone looked at each other for a brief moment until Kiara broke the silence.

“Last thing she said was that she was going to meet Wheezie.” You hummed at her words.

You and Kie hadn’t spoken nor looked one another in the eye since last night, so it was safe to assume you weren’t the best of friends right now. To be honest, you haven’t been for a while. It was just so weird. There was a time you considered her one of your best friends. But now you couldn’t even face each other without some kind of cat fight ensuing. And you feared these disputes might go from verbal to physical if the pressure reached that point…

“That’s a lot of wax on your board.” Pope spoke, interrupting JJ as he waxed his surfboard. The blonde paused in his movements, side eyeing his friend. “If you put too much, it’s gonna be slippery.”

“...Are you tellin’ me how to wax my board, Pope?” JJ asked, standing up straight.

“I’m just saying, that’s a lot of wax-”

“No no no, you’re tellin’ me how to wax my board. Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just saying that’s a colossal waste of wax.” Pope shrugged sassily, turning away from the blonde.

“Guys,” Kiara butted in, looking between the two. “Really? Can you go two minutes without-” A car horn cut off the tail end of her sentence. The sound making all of you freeze. That was a very distinct horn. A horn that only belonged to a certain vehicle. A certain vehicle that belonged to a certain boy.

None of you said anything else, almost all completely still and waiting to hear it again. When the sound came again, you were the first to turn and run towards it. You rounded the corner of the surf shack just in time to see the Twinkie kicking up dust in front of The Chateau, a dearly missed brunette behind the wheel.

“No fucking way!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards the vehicle, almost tripping over your own feet. “Jombee!”

“Guess who’s out of the clink?!” He smiled, hopping out of the passenger seat. You knocked the wind out of the boy when you threw yourself into him, squeezing him as tightly as you could. He returned the gesture in full, the both of you laughing into each other’s shoulders as the others approached.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Am I dreaming?”

“My boy’s out of the can!” They all joined in on the hug when they got close enough, the five of you piled in on each other. You weren’t sure if what you said worked or it was by the grace of some other miracle that John B was here right now but you didn’t care.

“How’d you do it?” JJ asked as you all pulled back from the hug, forming a circle. “You bust out?”

“No, actually,” John B said matter of factly. “They dropped the charges.” Just then, three of them turned to you with knowing smiles on their faces, John B following their gazes like a lost child. “What?”

“It worked.” Pope told him simply.

“What? What worked?”

“Our little pogue princess here used her magic to get your ass out of jail, Bree.” JJ celebrated, nudging your shoulder playfully as a small smile grew on your face.

“How the hell did you manage that?” John B asked, scoffing gratefully.

“It was nothing…” You waved off. “I just put some pieces together, that’s all.”

“Uh, it was not nothing.” JJ assured. “She went straight up Criminal Minds on Shoupe and his league of badge-wielding sissies. Had a folder and everything-”

“...Wait,” John B cut in, the smile gone from his face. “Where’s Sarah?” The four of you looked to each other, shoulder's square and tense.

“...She went to go meet Wheezie last night.” Kiara told the boy, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “She didn’t come back.”

“SO, SARAH JUST DIPS AND DOESN’T CALL?” John B theoreticized, the only one standing on the boat. The five of you were lounging in the HMS Pogue that’d been stationery in the water behind The Chateau. John B was kind of dampening the mood with a Sarah question every five minutes but you all gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. I mean, I don’t think she would just leave. No offense but, where would she even go?” Kiara threw out, leaning against the inside of the boat next to John B’s legs.

“But, I mean also, she left her bag.” Pope added, you weren’t sure how that helped the conversation.

John B just sighed, planting his hands atop his head. “I really think Ward got to her.” He offered a possible theory. “I mean, he tried to have me killed in jail.”

You turned around so fast, you feared you almost gave yourself whiplash. “He what?”

“Yeah. He sent somebody to the prison who...yoked me up and almost killed me.”

“Do we know who this dude was?” JJ asked. Judging by his tone, he had an idea in mind and he most likely could go through with it if he truly wanted. Between the inmates who didn’t approve of crimes against children and JJ’s connections in the jail from his dad, he could honestly probably set something up with just a name and a dirty cop.

“No, I have no idea.” John B shook his head. “Dude, I swear to God, one day I’m gonna kill that son of bitch.” He threatened mindlessly, finally taking a seat inside the boat.

“It’s okay.” Kiara tried to comfort.

“No, Kie, it’s not okay.” He snapped. “We gotta find Sarah.”

“No, literally, it’s okay.” Kiara said once more, pointing behind the distressed brunette. “She’s right there.”

The four of you turned to see Sarah…sitting in Topper’s boat.

As Topper drove.

At the sight of John B, the blonde girl stood up. “...John B?” Her small voice traveled across the water, Topper’s boat getting closer and closer. She shouted John B’s name happily, the boy simply looking away from her. Seeing your girlfriend on her ex’s boat the morning you get out of jail can’t be the best ‘Welcome Home’ surprise.

The four of you cringed, Sarah clearly not registering the picture that was being painted.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” You muttered under your breath, mainly to yourself. “Sometimes, I forget that you are indeed a blonde, teenage girl.”

“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kiara asked, loud enough for the four of you only to hear. Everyone shot small smiles at the blonde girl, confused about who she’d arrived with but glad that she was safe nonetheless. Topper slowed his boat next to The Pogue, allowing Sarah to cross over as he and John B exchanged awkward glances.

“My God, this is weird…” You mumbled, clearly not quietly enough considering Pope nudged your shoulder in warning. “Wh-Am I wrong?”

Sarah threw herself into John B, the boy returning the gesture wholeheartedly but you could tell he was still a little thrown off. “I though I’d never see you again.” Sarah told him, voice muffled into his shoulder before she pulled back to look him in his eyes. “What happened?”

“They dropped all the charges.” John B smiled at his girlfriend.

“What?” Sarah breathed out, a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m a free man.” John B said smugly, leaning one arm on the boat’s windshield.

“That’s amazing!” Sarah exclaimed, pulling the boy into her one more time. The look of heartbreak on Topper’s face was clear as day. Anyone could tell that he was still in love with her. You might’ve even felt bad if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“I know, it’s great, but listen, Sarah,” John B calmed her down, pushing her back by her arms to look at her. “They’re coming after Rafe.”

“...Good,” She said, surprising you all. Her eyes fleeted to you for a brief moment. “He’s completely unhinged. He jumped me last night.”

“What?” You all said simultaneously, eyes going wide as your attention went to Sarah.

“That’s why I didn’t come back.”

“Yeah, man. Rafe has lost his mind.” Topper butted in, leaning against the structure of his own boat. “Literally almost drowned his own sister.” You rolled your eyes. Topper has known how unhinged Rafe was all along. He and Kelce always stood by like bodyguards when Rafe would treat you like shit towards the end of your “relationship” with him — he’d grab you by your neck in front of them, pull your hair, call you a bitch, tell you to shut up. But they didn’t care. Or at least they didn’t care enough to say anything about the way Rafe manhandled you or the people around him. But now that Topper had a chance to be Sarah’s knight in shining armor, there was no way he was going to pass it up. “Thankfully I got there just in time.” He said, and you swore you saw the hint of a sly smile on his face.

John B turned away from the blonde on the other boat, tongue prodding against his cheek. “Well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don’t I?” He asked, voice short.

He simply scoffed in response, shrugging nonchalantly. “...’s all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”

“Oookay,” You jumped in. “I think it’s time for you to go, Topper, don’t you agree?-” You tried before John B jumped in.

“That’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend, right?” He directed the question more at Sarah than Topper, the girl tucking her hair behind her ear and laughing nervously.

“What is she, then?” Topper asked, chuckling.

John B threw a hand out in Sarah’s direction. “Tell him.” He had a sure smile on his face, like he knew Sarah would say what he wanted her to. But it quickly dropped following her words.

“I…I’m with him.” She looked almost unsure of what she was saying. Like she didn't want to say it.

The four of you not involved in this love triangle cringed silently, all looking in different directions as your faces twisted while Topper basically wheezed. “Gotcha. You’re with him. Yeah, okay.” He taunted, looking to the four of you. “You guys clear on that?”

“I think it’s clear you gotta go now.” JJ warned, looking up at the preppy blonde.

“Yeah, I think it’s about that time.” He agreed simply as Sarah called out to him.

“Topper.” She said, leaving John B’s side to get closer to Topper’s boat. “Thank you.” She said gratefully, pulling the boy into a gentle hug.

Topper returned the gesture. “Yeah, of course.” He said softly, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He assured, and none of you missed the glare he shot John B behind Sarah’s back before she pulled away, letting Topper speed off.

YOU WERE STRETCHED OUT ON THE COUCH IN THE CHATEAU, TOSSING A BALL UP INTO THE AIR. John B and Sarah were outside on the hammock, the conversation they were having didn't look too pleasant. Kiara and Pope were talking in the Surf Shack, no telling whether they were cuddling or Kie was pushing him away. You were deep into thought when the door swung open, a chipper blonde waltzing in, humming some random tune under his breath as he went over into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

You looked at his frame in your peripheral before rolling your eyes and sighing, resuming your train of thought.

“...Y’know, you are really just take the passive part out of being passive-aggressive, y’know that, right?” He spoke across the room, closing the fridge and leaning against it, a beer can in his hand.

“Sorry. I guess liars just bring out the worst in me.” You muttered, voice full of attitude.

“How can I lie about something I have no idea about? Kind of hard to understand why you're so mad at me if you don't say anything.” JJ scoffed, taking small steps towards you.

At this you scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, sitting up on the couch and leaning your weight one arm, the ball clutched in your other hand. “Are you really just never going to say anything about it?”

“Say anything about what?"

"I mean, at first, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Like maybe it wasn't what it seemed but it's been days-"

You’ve been talking in riddles for days-”

“You kissed Kie.”

“...What?” He recoiled at the statement, standing up straighter. “No, I didn’t-”

“Yes, you did.” You interrupted, swinging your legs off of the couch and leaning your arms on your thighs. “In Charleston. At the gas station.”

He seemed to ponder on it for a moment before he found it — his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack before he stuttered to find words. “Th- that is not what happened. Is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. Neither of you did because you’re both liars and shitty friends.” You spat, standing from your seat and walking out of the door, hearing his heavy boots follow behind you as the screen door hit the wall. “Maybe this is a sign. Because clearly, you’re both made for each other. Do all liars and backstabbers have a moral code? Birds of a feather, y'know-”

“Can you let me explain?” He breathed out, his footsteps barrelling down the wooden steps and you walked through the dirt and gravel. You didn’t know where you were going or if you were going anywhere at all. It just felt right to walk away.

“You could’ve explained days ago.”

“Look,” He tried, gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks and turn you around. “Just listen to me, please. I understand what it may have looked like and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but I meant everything I said to you. That kiss you saw? Didn’t mean anything.”

“A kiss always means something.” You rasped, snatching your arm away and looking him in his eyes. Really in his eyes, for probably the first time in days.

“Okay, maybe you’re right but it didn’t mean anything to me. I didn't initiate it or like it or anything. I can’t speak for Kie but I can speak for me and the kiss. meant. nothing. And you would know that if you had-”

“If I had what?” You cut him off. “If I had said something? As you so sweetly pointed out, I didn't say anything, did I? I’m so sorry if the sight of you and Kie playing tongue hockey while Pope and I are less than ten feet away caught me off guard so badly that I couldn't say anything when it happened.”

“And I get that, I do. But you aren’t listening-” He tried to calm you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders before being harshly shrugged off.

“Stop that.”

“...Look, Kie kissed me. We were talking and then she kissed me and I pushed her away. The kiss didn’t last more than five seconds and I didn’t kiss her back. I told her I didn’t like her that way, I don't like her that way, and that I wouldn’t do that to Pope or you, ever. I even told her about what me and you have going on. I promise you.” He reassured. “And to be completely honest with you, would it even matter if I did? I mean, we aren’t together. You said you needed time to figure out your feelings. You said that you didn’t want me to wait on you to figure out your feelings. You said that.”

At his comment, you stood in shock. A silent ‘wow’ leaving your lips as you looked around at nothing. “And you know what, JJ? I loved you for that. You were so patient and understand in that moment that I fell in love with you in a such a way that I couldn't just call you my friend anymore. And I can’t believe that you use what I said now and twist it into something else. You know that’s not what happened. I told you I didn’t want you to wait on me to figure out my feelings if that’s not what you want, that part is true. But what about when you told me that you would and that it was your choice? That you’d be there when I was ready?” You reprimanded, scolded. “And when I told you that if you did kiss someone else or hook up with someone else, I just wanted you to tell me and not let me find out from someone else. And you told me that there would be nothing to tell and nothing to find out because you were “all mine”. Or did all of that just coincidentally slip your mind?”

“It didn’t. I just…” JJ sighed, running a hand down his face. “I need you to trust me and believe me when I tell you that my heart is with you. It always has been and it always will be.” He told, eyes boring into yours, pleading. “...But a part of me feels like when all of your grief is gone and you feel better about everything. About your mom, your dad, everything. You won’t...need me anymore and you’ll try to push me away because maybe then you’ll realize that you don’t really feel that way about me. You just thought you did because…because I was there for you when you needed me to be.”

“Oh.” You scoffed, eyebrows raising. “You kiss someone else, one of our friends, and I’m the one who’s feelings are being doubted?”

JJ just sighed, stepping impossibly closer to you. One of his hands reached out to caress your face, this time you let him. “...I love you.” He said softly. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

“How about how you show it?” You whined, eyes getting teary and voice wavering. You gently grasped his hand, dragging it away from where it was cradling your face. “I am not using you to make myself feel better, JJ. What I feel for you is not a product of my grief or fucked up life or because you were there for me at just the right time. And maybe I needed the time to realize that before but I know it, now. I am sure that I love you but now I need you to be sure that you love me back. Okay, so why wouldn’t you just tell me about the kiss? If it didn’t mean anything, why didn’t you say anything?” You explained, two single tears running down your face.

Suddenly, JJ’s phone started to go off, notification after notification. You let go of his hand, using your own to wipe your tears, as he fished for his phone in his pocket.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, walking in the direction of the Surf Shack.

“What?” You asked, voice still off from crying and you followed behind him.

He rounded the corner to find Kie and Pope pulling apart from a hug, you could only wonder what they were talking about. You didn’t miss the way both of their eyes went between you and JJ. Between JJ’s red face and your tear stains, they probably had questions. You wouldn’t be surprised if they heard the heated conversation.

“Pope.” JJ started. “Just got a call from Guffy. Somethin’ happened to your pops.”

“LET ME KNOW IF I’M HURTING YOU, OKAY?” Sarah cooed, planting a bandage on Heyward’s hairline. By the time the six of you arrived, the older man was hunched over, beaten and bloodied. Not too badly but bad enough for someone like Heyward.

“You’re doin’ just fine.” Heyward told Sarah, wincing as she fully secured the bandage and walked away. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Pop,” Pope started, walking closer to his father. “What happened?”

“Oh, I should’ve known better.” Heyward started, lightly touching the bandage on his head. “He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest,” You cringed at the thought. “...and he asked me about that…about that key. From that drawing you showed me. And in case you’re wondering,” The older man gaining his sass back as he spoke. “I ain’t tell him nothin’.” He told the group of you, a hand on his hip with his lips pursed before his eyes went back to his son. “Now did you track it down?”

Pope fished around in his back pocket, pulling out a slim, gold key with a red string attached. The five you surrounding the father and son had sly smirks on your faces.

“I found it in Mee-maw’s old apartment above the pharmacy, just like you said.”

“...Shit, boy, you should’ve gave this to me. I wouldn’t have had to take a beatin’.” He spoke, shocked by the sight of the key as he twirled it between his fingers. “What’s the big deal? It ain’t worth anythin'. Why they want it so bad?”

“I don’t know.” Pope shrugged along with the rest of you. “First, I get this letter telling me that I need to go to Charleston. And then I meet this rich lady who wants me to give her a key that I didn’t even know was in my family.” Pope explained enthusiastically.

“Well, don’t y’all just sit here whinin’ about it.” Heyward scolded the group of you sporting long faces. “Figure it out.”

Pope’s face twisted at his father’s words as he shook his head. “No.” He said firmly. “I’m just gonna give the key to that lady. It’s not worth-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Heyward interrupted. “Did I raise you to back down from a fight?”

Pope shook his head. “...No, sir.”

“Well, all right.” Heyward nodded, admiration is his eyes. “Now, I didn’t think ‘bout it before. I admit that. But now…” He trailed off, eyes on the key in his hand before pointing to the injury on his head. “Now? I’m interested.” He smiled smugly. “Did they say why they wanted it?”

Pope drew his lips into a thin line. “Somethin’ about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”

“You know who you should talk to?” Heyward suggested, leaning forward. “Your great-grandmother.”

JOHN B STOPPED THE VAN IN FRONT OF SHADY ACRES NURSING HOME. It was the next day, the group of you agreeing to put it off until then considering it was a little drive away. Pope was the first out of the van, Kiara following as JJ got out of the passenger seat.

“Hey, um…” Pope started, looking up at the building. “I think I’m actually gonna do this one by myself.” It seemed like a general statement but his eyes kept zoning in on key.

“...You sure?” Kie asked, half-way out of the van doors.

“Yeah.” Pope shrugged. “I can handle it, I don’t really need you, so…” The clear attitude in his voice had you and Sarah, who were still seated, cringing in the van, looking anywhere but at the two. You figured whatever they talked about in the shed wasn't as good as it seemed. Maybe that wasn't a happy hug...

“Oh, we’re just all one big happy family today, aren’t we?” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood. Now that he mentioned it, it did seem like all the “couples” in the group were off. Even John B and Sarah hadn’t talked since yesterday afternoon or all this morning.

Pope simply looked at the blonde before walking off, a gloomy expression on his face. John B restarted the van, ready to drive off while Pope did his task.

“OF COURSE I THANKED TOPPER.” Sarah whispered as you, her, and Kie walked back towards the van slowly. John B had made a pit-stop at a burger place where you, Sarah, and Kie went to get milkshakes. John B and JJ were inside the vehicle, it looked like they were having a hushed conversation of their own. “He saved my life, and I’d put him through so much already.” She added, sipping on her milkshake as you did the same, Kie nodding. “And you’d think that that is the crime of the century.”

“Tell me about it.” Kiara said. “All of this crazy shit’s happening, and Pope is giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”

You gulped down the rest of you shake at her words. “I think it’s more so due to the fact that you led him on as if you were in love with him, but hey,” You butted in bluntly, sending a tight-lipped smile Kiara’s way. “What do I know?”

“People can’t control their feelings. You can’t force yourself to…love someone who you just don’t.”

“No,” You dragged out. “But people can control how they interact with those people. Kissing someone, sleeping with someone? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m not in love with you’.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Kie stopped walking, turning to you. “You don’t speak to me for days and then when you do it’s the same passive-aggressive bullshit? I mean, seriously, what’s your deal?”

You stopped in your own tracks from where you had taken a few steps forward, turning to face the girl while still sipping your milkshake. “Does Pope know?”

Kie rolled her eyes and threw her hands out, Sarah watching intently. “Does Pope know what?”

“That you kissed JJ.” You said bluntly, eyes staring into hers.

"Wh-*cough*-What?!" Sarah's eyes went wide as she choked on her milkshake.

“‘Cause if he doesn’t and he’s already pushing you away like this? I can’t imagine how much he’ll hate you when he finds out.” You shrugged.

“...If.” Kiara corrected, shifting her. “If he finds out.”

You pursed your lips, looking up at the sky as you pretended to think while you shook your head. “When.” You corrected her correction before turning on your heel and walking towards the van.

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE RELATED TO DENMARK TANNY.” John B exclaimed. You’d all returned to The Marina just as it had started to drizzle where Pope explained how his grandmother told him all about how Denmark Tanny and his wife, Cecilia, were Pope’s ancestors. “Are we in the presence of a royal?” John B teased, the six of you camped up under a roof of one of the shops.

“A king? We shall crown him.” JJ joked alongside JB, planting an imaginary crown on Pope’s head. “All hail the Lord of Tannyhill. We are not worthy!” He continued, the rest of you joining in on the chant before Pope stopped you all with a chuckle.

“Everybody relax. Can we relax, please?” He requested, the laughter fading lightly before his face faded into something more serious. “...I just keep thinking about the letter. The one Limbrey sent? It had the wheat symbol on it.” He pointed out. “That must mean it had something to do with the Royal Merchant.”

“Yeah. Somethin’ seems fishy…” JJ threw in.

“But if we find that cross, we can split it like we were gonna split the gold.” Pope continued, gleefully.

“And live happily ever after?” An uninvited voice rang out, the group of you turning to find none other than Carla Limbrey and her live-in bodyguard approaching. You all straightened, the expression on your faces going hard.

“You assaulted my father.” Pope was the first to speak, his lips curled in anger as he took steps towards the woman only to be pushed back by her accomplice.

“Oh, I didn’t assault anybody.”

“He can identify the psycho from a mile away.” Kie assured, Carla turning to her.

“Why would my employee…” She trailed off, turning back to Pope. “Assault your father? That's absurd.” She laughed, like the whole ordeal was humorous. “Listen,” She started, limping towards Pope. “We can keep on negotiating but the fact is, I want the key.” She explained, her employee pushing Pope up against a support beam causing you all to jump up.

“Hey!” JJ shouted, being the closest to Pope.

“And I won’t stop until I have it. I don’t have a choice, which means you don’t either.” She spoke solely to Pope. She stared at him intensely, her gaze never wavering.

“It’s Limbrey, right?” You piped up, her eyes turning to you as you leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, swinging the gold key around your finger. “Is this what you’re looking for?��

“...Yes, it is.” She said, her voice straining as she walked towards you slowly.

“Looking at the tide right, I’d say it’s about…” You taunted, dangling the object dangerously over the water as you peaked at the waves then back at her. “Twenty feet deep out there? So, if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim to none.” You explained, sitting up straighter and extending your arm completely over the rail. “Wanna give it a shot?” You taunted, letting the key slip from your fingers.

“No! Hey!” Limbrey lunged forward, nearly tripping over her feet. She let out a sigh of relief when you swiftly caught key in your hand again before it even had the chance to really fall. “...Please don’t do that.” She pleaded.

You could feel your eyes narrow as you relaxed against the rail again, the key fisted in your palm as you threw one arm out in the direction of her employee. “Get him to back the hell up.”

“...Back up.” She ordered, turning towards the man as he walked away from Pope, looking you up and down. Carla was quick to stand back in front of Pope once more, talking to him. “As I have told you from the beginning, I am willing to be reasonable.”

Pope eyes drifted towards you, probably catching on to the fact that the key you were torturing Limbrey with was fake, considering you were sure he had the real one on him. You nodded towards the boy, winking at him.

“...Okay.” He said, eyes back on Carla.

“Okay?” She seemed surprised at his cooperation.

“I’ll give you the key.” He told her, standing up straighter. “But I want the tape.”

“Of course-” Limbrey was quick to agree, but you felt like her employee was getting suspicious with the way he was eyeing you.

“Hey, Pope,” You stepped in, walking towards your friend. “You don’t have to do this, okay?” You told him, but your head was nodding slightly so he would catch your drift. Giving the key up to easily would only seem suspicious now. There had to be some kind of resistance on his end.

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, Pope, this is your family.”

“It’s fine. It’s okay…” Pope assured, putting his hand out for you to give him the key. “This is about your dads.” He added, eyes fleeting between you and John B. “That’s way more important.”

“Oh, you’re a good friend.” Limbrey sighed as you planted the key in Pope’s palm.

“The tape?” Pope turned back to her, eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes, give him the tape.” She ordered the man she brought with her, watching as he pulled a red tape recorder from inside of his jacket, handing it slowly to Pope. He didn’t hand Limbrey the key until the player was in his hand. “You know…” She started again, leaning into him. “I wish that you’d come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.” She said before turning and walking off, her employee following behind but not before turning around with a smug smile on his face.

“It was nice seein’ ya, Pope.”

“Walk away before I beat your ass with her cane.” You told him bluntly, him offering the six of you one last grin before strutting off. You watched the pair leave, standing next to John B as a smile grew on your face. “How long do you think we have until she realizes she has your father’s old key?”

“Ten minutes.” He replied.

Just then, Pope turned around with both of his arms out, a small relieved smile on his face. “Whose idea was the fake key?”

You and John B turned your attention to JJ who was trying to conceal the smile on his face. “Hmm, I don’t know. Should we tell him?” John B teased, throwing an arm around JJ’s shoulders.

“Did hell freeze over?” Pope asked, astounded.

“I’m impressed.” Kiara said. “Maybe you are good for something.”

“Even a blind pig can find an acorn at times.” JJ joked as Pope and JB tickled him, poking his ribs and ruffling his hair.

“We gotta take this tape to Shoupe.” John B smiled, juggling the object in his hand as the released the blonde.

“Yes sir.” JJ jumped up. “Ward Cameron we’re comin’ for you, big boy!”

You didn’t miss the look of despondence on Sarah’s face. It was the visual epitome of being stuck between a rock and hard place. You knew what it was like to know someone’s a bad person but still feel obligated to love them. You seemed so easily detached from your mother that you never stopped to consider that maybe Sarah was having a hard time doing the same with her father.

“WHEN I GOT DOWN TO THE TARMAC, I SAW THE SHERIFF LYING DEAD ON THE GROUND.” Gavin’s voice came from the tape recorder planted on Shoupe’s desk. John B had requested that you go in with him to give the evidence to Shoupe while the others waited, considering you had cleared his name in the first place, he figured your help could do no harm. “And then Ward asked me to fly the gold to Nassau and dispose of the gun. He’s protecting his son.” The former pilot explained, Shoupe’s eyes drifting upwards to stare at you and John B. “It was Rafe Cameron who killed Sheriff Peterkin. I gotta be honest with you…I’m terrified. If anything happens to me, I’m telling you, it was Ward Cameron.”

John B looked up at Shoupe and the FBI Agent standing behind him, a deadpan look on his face. “I told you Shoupe…” He started, shaking his head slightly. “Ward killed both of our fathers and Gavin, and now you know Rafe killed Peterkin.”

Shoupe just licked his lips and nodded, taking a quick glance at the agent behind him. “...I know, kid. I know.”

Your brows furrowed at this. During your last conversation with Shoupe, right after you’d told him to drop the charges and right before you left his office, he left you with a few last words...

“I don’t know if I believe all of this, kid. And I can’t promise that this enough to get your friend out and put Ward behind bars. Maybe one or the other…but not both.”

Leaning forward in your seat, you gained Shoupe’s attention as his eyes turned to you. “What does that mean? ‘Cause last time I was here you said that the outcome we have right now was nearly impossible.”

The man just sighed, slowly rising from his chair as it rolled against the floor. He put both of his hands on his belt and cleared his throat. “We’ve issued arrest warrants for both Ward and Rafe…as well as your mother and any department employees involved. Rafe is currently in custody, the other warrants are being carried out as we speak. I can’t give ya anymore than that.”

“LLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WARD CAMERON, KING OF THE KOOKS, IS GOING TO JAIL!” JJ’s voice boomed from the inside of The Chateau. The guys were inside celebrating Ward’s takedown as you rounded the corner of the porch, finding a solemn Sarah sitting criss-cross on the patio furniture with Kiara right across from her, giggling at the guys antics.

You sat the opposite side of the blonde girl just Kiara looked to her, the brown-haired girl’s face falling at Sarah’s expression.

“...Do you regret it?”

Sarah was quick to reply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No.” She stated firmly, biting the inside of her cheek. “He deserves all of it, and I know that. It’s just…” She cut herself off with a teary sigh, her voice returning with a quiver to it as her eyes filled with tears. “He’s still my dad. I can’t just pretend like he’s not.”

“No, I get it.” Kiara tried to comfort, scooting closer and planting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I understand-”

“But you don’t, Kie.” Sarah blurted, a tear falling from her eye as her nose and cheeks took on a shade of red. “I know you’re trying to help but you just don’t get it...” She said, rising from her seat and swiftly walking off into the direction of the backyard and out into the rain.

You didn’t know if it was weird of you to go after her, considering Sarah and Kie were closer but you figured after Kiara sat there with no intention of getting up that it was okay to do so. Getting up from your seat and walking off to follow Sarah, you stepped out into the drizzling rain, going towards her figure that was stood at the edge of the tall grass on the shore of The Marsh, her arms hugging herself as she looked out at the water.

As you got closer and stood next to her, you could hear small sniffles leaving her nose. Maybe she didn’t regret helping turn her dad in but it was clear as day to anyone that she was upset.

“I know I’m probably not the person you want to talk to…” You spoke up after a few moments of silence, Sarah looking at you briefly. “But I think I’m the only person who can relate to how you’re feeling, right now.”

“You don’t have to come out here in the rain to make me feel better.” She sighed, fully turning to you now, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. “Especially after everything I’ve put you through.”

“Sarah, I already told you that I forgive you-”

“But why?” She cried, swinging her arms out to her sides. “It would be one thing if I didn’t believe you but I made your life a living hell and I didn’t even like my brother then. How can you just forgive me so…so easily?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault.” You told her, moving your own pieces of damp hair out of your vision. “I know that right now you probably think you’re no better than them, your dad and brother. But you are not responsible for the bad things that they did to other people. Yes, you made my life hell and maybe I’ll always hold that small grudge against you. But you didn’t kill Peterkin, and you didn’t kill my dad, or Big John, or Gavin.” You explained. “And unlike them, Sarah, you owned up to your mistakes. You apologized to me and Kiara and you’ve become a better person for it.”

“..But why do I feel bad for still loving him?” She whined, tears falling faster now. “I tore myself away from Rafe after he tried to drown me but my dad…he’s still my dad. And I know he’s done bad things, really bad things, and I will never forgive him but for some reason, going against him puts this pit in my stomach that I can’t get rid of because ...he’s my dad.”

“But that’s the thing, Sarah,” You began, stepping closer to her. “He’s not your dad anymore.” You told her, putting a hand on her upper arm gently. “The way I think of it? He’s just a shell of the man you used to know. Like with my mom — I know it seems like I’m okay and that I hate her and that’s that, right? But that’s not true. I miss my mom. So much. But not the mom that being hunted down by the police right now.” You explained, your own voice wavering. “I miss the mom that would listen to my shitty guitar playing after my dad taught me chords and convinced me I was the greatest in the world. I miss the mom that would make cookies with me in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. The mom I miss would never do the things that the woman I know now has done. Any of it. And I know it’s a hard thing, to separate who you grew up with and who you’ve come to know but Ward isn’t the father you knew, Sarah. He’s the monster you know now.”

Sarah just sniffled and nodded, processing your words as she wiped the tears and rainwater from her face.

“...And as for that grudge?” You started, a small smile on your face. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to let it go if you helped me out with something. Just a small little side quest…” You shrugged cutely as her brows pinched together. “Got any clue where Rafe would hide a stolen dog at Tannyhill?”

You managed to get a small chuckle out of the girl before her phone started to ring, Sarah fishing the device out of her back pocket — Topper’s contact card bright on display as her eyes darted to yours.

“We might have to postpone that heist…” She said, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Topper’s voice came through, his voice faint and distorted through the phone. “Sorry to be the, uh, bearer of bad news here but…they’re coming for your dad.” He told her, Sarah letting out a deep breath. “My grandpa just signed the warrant.” He explained. You forgot his grandfather was a judge. “So, if you have anything you want to say to him, I would do it now. Just wanted you know.”

“Thanks.” Sarah replied, voice small and weak as she stared at her sneakers. She removed the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing deeply.

You shot her a tight-lipped smile, a look of pity. “I’ll get everyone and we’ll go with you.”

THE TWINKIE WAS GOING AS FAST IT COULD DOWN THE NARROW STREET WHEN THREE COP CARS SPED BY, headed in the direction of Tannyhill.

“Shit…” Kie breathed, eyes trailing the speeding vehicle as she looked out of the window.

“Oh my God,” Sarh sighed, eyes wide as the severity of the situation set in. “Can we please hurry? I need to be there for Wheezie.”

“You think I wanna miss this?” John B said bluntly. Ouch. The statement and the way he said it even hurt you, so you weren’t surprised by the mean side-eye that Sarah gave him from the passenger seat.

The four of you in the back exchanged glances. There was a lot going on and it was difficult to know what each of your worried looks were for — Sarah, John B, or Sarah and John B’s relationship.

It wasn’t long before the van pulled up right behind one of the parked cop cars outside of Tannyhill, right outside the concrete wall. You all nearly tripped over one another scrambling to exit the van before it even came to a full stop — the sound of police chatter, footsteps, and sirens in the distance.

You all stood on your tiptoes, peering over the wall.

“Holy shit.”

“I can’t see, bro.”

None of you had a good view but you could see a small swarm of officers running towards the dock where Ward kept his boats while Rose stood helplessly by the door.

“Screw it.” John B said out of nowhere. “I’m going over.” He warned before hurling himself over the wall, the five of you watching as he landed on the other side. You looked at each other before following his lead, landing in the grass.

You all jogged through the freshly cut grass, approaching the doors where Rose stood just in time to see Wheezie rushing out as Rose tried to stop her.

“What’s going on?” The young girl asked, eyes on the huddle of officers by the water. “Why are the police here?”

“Wheezie…” Sarah called her sister’s name in relief, walking faster in order to reach the girl and pull her into a hug.

“Why are the police here again?” Wheezie asked, her voice soft and curious.

“Go inside,” Sarah told her, caressing the back of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Don’t come out.” Wheezie looked at her older sister with confusion and concern before nodding and turning to go back inside, a teary-eyed Rose guiding the girl back inside.

You couldn’t help but subconsciously notice that there was no sign of Marley — no paw prints, no food bowls, no leash, nothing. Not that he’d take that much care of her anyway. But it didn't look like a dog was being kept here. You felt bad for thinking about that at a time like this but if Rafe wasn’t holding her at Tannyhill, you could only think of one other place he’d take her, and if you were right then getting her back just became a whole lot more dangerous…

“Sarah,” Rose called before shutting the patio door, her voice scratchy. “Your father, he…he’s out on The Druther’s.” She told her, Sarah wasting no time in jogging in that direction before Rose could finish. “But I don’t think you should- Sarah!”

She tried to call her back but it was no use and the rest of you could do nothing more but follow Sarah out to the docks. Through the grass and over the wood, about six or so officers formed a line, effectively blocking the entrance as the group of you approached the scene.

“Dad!” Sarah cried, seeing her father’s figure on the third story of The Druther’s.

The officer’s attention turned to you all, holding their hands out to stop you all from going any further when Shoupe’s voice rang.

“That’s Sarah Cameron! Let her through!” He ordered, motioning you all through with one hand as the officers stepped to the side.

“What are you doing here, Sarah?!” Ward called tearfully from the top of his boat. He looked genuinely terrified.

“Dad, what’re you doing?!” She called from the docks as you all walked behind her, forming a sort of line on the wooden surface, officers on each side.

“Vic, you gotta get her out of here!” Ward’s attention went to Shoupe, pleading with the man. “She can’t be here right now!” He was straining his voice so much, you would think he was about to die, not be arrested.

“Just come on in, and you can talk to her!” Shoupe tried to reason, throwing his arms out in Sarah’s direction, trying to find anyway for Ward to turn himself in.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry, baby,” He continued to cry, going inside of the cockpit for a moment. It looked like he was flipping switches which made the officers weary. “I can’t!” Suddenly, the anchor started to reel itself out of the water.

If they didn’t get any units in the water by now or anytime soon, you feared Ward would get away. Once again.

“What’re you doing?!” Sarah called, stepping closer to the edge of the dock. “Dad, no, no, no!”

“Ward!” Shoupe stepped in, applying more pressure. “This ain’t gonna end the way you want it to!” Your prayers were answered and Shoupe’s warning was proven when four police water units came cruising towards The Druther’s, lights and sirens on display. “You don’t need her seeing this!”

Sarah’s jaw couldn’t close as she eyed each of the approaching boats, one after the other. Anyone within five feet of the girl could hear her labored, stuttering breaths. Just then, Ward started to climb down to the second level of the boat, causing Sarah to cry out once more.

“Dad, don’t leave!” Her voice cracked, at a pitch so high you’d question if it was even her voice. “Where are you going?!”

“I love you!” Ward assured, landing on his feet on the second level deck.

“Hey! Damn it, Ward!” Shoupe cursed. “Turn it around and get back in here!”

“Dad! No!” Sarah cried hysterically, watching as Ward closed himself off in the boat where no one could see him. The four units in the water were closing in on him —where did he plan to go? “Please don’t leave!” Sarah croaked one last time when suddenly the bottom of The Druther’s blew, sending a wave of silence over everyone.

Even the boats in the water slowed, not wanting to get to close to the wreckage as it blew again, each blast getting higher and higher, hitting each story of The Druther’s. Each boom sent each of you back a step, hearing Sarah’s breath hitch was what broke your heart.

You all threw your arms up, shielding yourselves from the debris and shrapnel that was now flying in the air as easily as dust. A thick cloud of dark grey filled the air, metal and other materials floating down into the water as everyone just stared.

It was silent until Sarah started to hyperventilate, a hand on her chest as you watched as her knees began to give out. “No, no.” She struggled to get out, a hand hovering over her throat as she cried. “Dad…dad!” You know someone should’ve helped her or comforted her but it was like none of you could. You were frozen in place, watching the boat go up in flames.

You couldn’t believe this. No, really. You couldn’t. Despite the fire and the smoke and the boat now in pieces, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

Ward was dead?

You were supposed to believe that Ward was dead?

How could any kind of universe allow him the easy way out? How was that fair?

You didn’t even really notice Topper, who’d appeared out of nowhere but seemingly just on time, catch Sarah just as she fell. You saw it out of you peripheral, but your sights never left that burning boat.

Ward…was dead.

Ward Cameron was dead.

next chapter>

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coeurify · 2 years ago

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i think i already requested this but i’m not 100% sure so i’m doing it again 🫶😭 ellie getting hired as a farm hand and sneaking around with the farmers daughter

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+. rushed writing, smut, oral!e recieving, dirty talk

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I JUST CAME EVERYWHERE!!! sorry this req took so long. i went a bit overboard. plz tell me if u want more of this trope, 3.2k words.

The farm was never quiet. Not the always loud stables and garden, not the chicken coop that always raised choruses of sounds. Never was the creaking door of your front porch door silent, nor was the gravel road that led across the expansive farm. Your father waking early in the morning, before the sun had even risen, boots stomping down old stairs— that was never quiet either. So often, you found your arms pressed to the ledge of your window, peeking through the white curtains to watch as the sun rose and your father trudged around to tend to everything by himself.

One day, when your cheek was pressed against your arm, knees tucked under you as your bed acted as a cushion to watch out the window with sleepy eyes, someone else showed up. Their hair was short and messily cut, shining a deep sort of auburn in the early flashes of the sun. They wore flannel and jeans that you had to squint your eyes to see were definitely too big for whoever wore them. Your father had mentioned hiring a farm hand for some help, but you assumed to be met with an older man like himself. Not whoever this was. They tilted their head up, meeting your searching eyes through the window above the farmhouse. It was a girl, definitely one your age, early twenties or so. Before she could look too long as you continued being nosy, you ducked down under the window and let out a breath of embarrassment.

A few days later, you learned her name. Carrying metal buckets full of feed for the chicken coop, you were met with this new face again, holding the same bucket. “Oh,” she had said, “are you going to feed the chickens? I'm sorry, don’t mean to get in the way..” she had rocked on her heels nervously, but you just smiled. “Oh! my daddy always has me feed the chickens; he must’ve just forgotten to tell ya’.. you’re the new farm hand, right?” The girl had nodded, very obviously following the braids in your hair as you tilted your head a bit. “Yea— uh, I’m Ellie..” she eventually introduced, holding out a hand for you. It gave a clear visual of the flannel pushed to her elbows, revealing a beautiful tattoo on her lower arm. You shook her hand, grinning as bright as the damn sky as you introduced yourself. “We could just go feed them together? Then I’ll get outta your hair,” you offered. That was the first day you and Ellie spoke, over the loud clucks of the chickens, introducing them each by names you had given them, asking simple questions about herself. That was when you decided you had to have her.

Your father didn’t love how the next few weeks were spent with you stealing glances at Ellie as she carried hay barrels or led horses to a different side of the farm. He mumbled for you to ‘let the girl do her job’ whenever you brought the two of them lemonades or snacks as an excuse to spark up a conversation under the summer heat. You liked to watch the way Ellie always focused on you, sweat building on her forehead that she always wiped away to speak with you. You enjoyed how she stumbled over her words whenever you complimented her work or mentioned how your father didn’t like how interested you were in distracting her.

“My daddy says I'm a bad influence on you, Ellie; you think that's true?” You had asked one day while leaning against the barn door, watching as she shuffled animals back into their pens. “He thinks I distract you too much,” you add, fingers digging into the pockets of your overalls. Ellie swallowed harshly, searching for her words carefully, “I think I’d be lying if I said you didn’t distract me just a bit,” the girl admitted, pushing a grin to your face. “Only a bit?” You pouted, nearly giggling out loud at how Ellie had blinked so hard and so many times, unable to conjure up words for your pointed comment. That was the first time you had dipped your toes into the pool of flirting with Ellie, and you never went back.

After a few awkward breakfasts of your father digging into you for your infatuation with his new farm hand, begging you just to let the girl work, you got more careful about your trips to Ellie. You would wait until your father was off in one of the stables before you would sneak to the garden Ellie was kneeling in, hands covered in dirt as she tended to the plants. “You look good like that,” you would mumble. Ellie always fumbled with her tools, looking up at you with eyes that always begged you not to keep pushing this. You always did. Your feet always found a place in the area of the farm she was in, digging into the dirt as you asked about her day and slid in compliments.

Ellie tried her best to be a good worker; she really did. She did her best to ignore those pretty eyes of yours, did her damnedest to look away when you bit your lip and watched her work. But she was only human. Every human had a breaking point, a trip-wire that only took one wrong step to set off and blow everything up. That breaking point had been your pretty sundress on a Wednesday afternoon as you lounged on your front porch, a book tucked in front of your face. Ellie had been standing there, waiting for your father to return from his quick ride to get more supplies for a broken fence. It was too hot that day to even debate standing out in the blistering sun, though the shade of the porch gave little comfort when you raised one of your legs and exposed some of your thighs.

“I love that flannel El,” you said as your nose poked above the paper pages, fingers dipping in between the chapters as you paid little mind to the words. “Come sit with me,” you patted the small sun chair next to you, and Ellie couldn’t help but follow your motion. A few strands of her hair were sticking up as she took a seat next to you, and you didn’t fight the urge to reach forward and press them down. “You gotta stop doing this,” Ellie said suddenly, turning your hand back to your lap. You knew exactly what she meant, but you still blinked as if you were confused. “Doin’ what?” You let your ponytail rest against the back of your chair as you leaned back, heart jumping to your throat as Ellie leaned over from her own space. Those green eyes you had wanted to see up close finally focused on your lips. “Tempting me, I can't..” Ellie swallowed, “Can’t do this.”

You had leaned up a bit, “You think I'm tempting El?” your voice came out slow and sweet, like molasses on her lips. Ellie and you both knew that trip-wire had been stepped directly on. The explosion had been Ellie’s lips crashing into your own, harsh enough that you were left with puffy lips for the rest of the day. She was just as sweet as you imagined, and you were hooked from the first bite against her lip. The two of you only pulled away when you heard the wheels of your father’s car. You knew if he caught you two, all the fun would end.

From there, Ellie was just as bad as you. Her hands found your waist whenever you passed by her in the barn, sneaking behind the buildings to meet you for a few handsy kisses and calloused hands pressing up shirts. Ellie became louder, a more mouthy side escaping her. Usually, it consisted of tumbling swears when you wore something she liked or loud jokes whenever you two were alone. You liked this side of her, always skipping away from your small meetings just as giddy as the first time, cheeks red from laughing.

Ellie began staying a little past sunset, knowing your kind father would invite her for dinner each time. You both knew it was just so she could watch as you and your father set the table, enjoying how you floated around the room only to always land in the seat next to hers. You both enjoyed how her palm always found your thigh under the table, usually rendering you the babbling one for once. Ellie stuck around till the very last minute, and the excellent daughter you were, you always offered to walk her out. The thrill of how easy it would be to get caught only made the goodnight kisses even more, mind-numbing, pressing through the window of her car to find her lips. “G’night, Ellie,” you always whispered through flushed cheeks. “Goodnight, angel,” Ellie always replied.

You often found yourself with a hand over your mouth, pressed against a door or any other surface you found acceptable and quiet. Ellie was talented with her fingers and mouth, and you had fallen victim to being a little too loud many times. It gained this recurring theme of her hand pressing against your lips and cheeks. Ellie hushed you repeatedly, demanding you two couldn’t be caught. The farm was only ever quiet when you two snuck around, mouth against your ear, sweat sticking to both of your bodies as she dragged too many orgasms to count from you.

One particularly sweltering day, your father had packed his trunk and left for the summer farmers market. It left the land to be only occupied by you and Ellie, who worked on the broken wood of the stairs outside your porch. You pushed your window all the way open, drawing the blinds back to let in more air. The heat was sticky in the way you hated— pressing down on your body with its humidity, grasping around your arms and legs like a grabby human, wrapping around you with a blanket you couldn't remove. It drew the hours of the day at a much too slow pace, swearing the minutes on your clock ticked a little slower in the muggy day.

It led you to peer out your window, enjoying the sight of Ellie’s muscles flexing against the white wife beater she wore a little too much. The way, even from up here, you could hear the small grunts of effort she let off had you shifting around in your spot, suddenly even more bogged down with heat.

You could only imagine how hot she must be stuck under the direct sunlight. You debate hollering down to her in a request to distract each other from the heat. Instead, you decide to have a little fun, standing up and directly in front of the open window as you pull your shirt off your body. The excuse you tell yourself is that it’s too warm to deal with the itchy fabric, much cooler in the bra and shorts you now dawned. You could feel a gaze on you from the ground below, and you stretched your arms up and above your head to cure the ache as you turned away from the window. You barely had five minutes before hearing the creaking of your front door.

It didn’t take long for you two to find each other in your room, Ellie pressing through the door. “What are you doing?” she questions, kicking off her boots to keep your pristine floorboards free of dirt. Your arms crossed over your body, shrugging. Watching as her breathing seemed to slow, the white wifebeater she wore just looked even more handsome now that you could see the subtle way it was crumpled and off place from working.

“It’s hot; I'm alone, so I got comfortable. Didn’t think peeping tom would see me,” you tease, stepping a bit closer as you wipe a bead of sweat from her freckled cheek. “You knew I would look,” Ellie muttered, slumping gently into your palm. “Maybe I did,” you nod in agreement, a mischievous smile finding its way to your lips. “Maybe I wanted attention..” you offer, hand moving from her face. The pad of your pointer finger runs over the low collar of her shirt. “Need somethin’ to distract me from the heat while daddy’s still out..”

Ellie huffed, her own hand coming to grip at your hand, pulling it off her chest. “So you teased me, hoping I'd come up and play with you?” She asked, dipping against your cheek to press a soft kiss there, pressing more small pecks until they reached your lips, humming when you pushed needily toward her. “Put me to work in your own way?” she chastises, pulling you close enough for a hand to find your ass, digging her fingers into the fat.

“No,” you shook your head, tilting your chin up. Today you wanted to try something different. Reward Ellie for all the hard work she did for the farm. It was an idea that had been building in your mind for a while, and you licked your lips as you began to describe it, “Wanna make you feel good, Ellie. You’re always makin’ me feel good..”

Ellie chuckled softly, her cheeks already red from the sun outside only worsened at your request, palm moving from the swell of your ass to skim over the small of your back, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. “How would you like to do that, pretty girl?”

Instead of answering her with words, you dropped to your knees in front of her, “want you to let me do this for you,” your comments dragged out, pulling the same way the all-encompassing heat did in your room. The bone of your knees find comfort on the small white rug on the ground as you shuffle. You blink up at her, reveling in how she sucks in a breath.

“Fuck- alright—” Ellie fumbled with her hands on the buckle of her jeans, dropping the dirtied fabric down to pool at her feet. Ellie stepped out of them, and you pushed them away, scrambling to be directly beneath. “You ever done this before, baby?” Ellie questioned, petting your hair softly as you made your own move to tug at her boxers impatiently. You shook your head; eyes focused on the small wet patch of her underwear. “I'm a quick learner, though.”

Ellie huffed in response, unable to meet your eyes when your cheek pressed against her slightly spread thigh. You didn’t mind how the heat only pushed further down on your body at the contact, enjoying this humidity too much. Your lips found her thigh, trying your best to recreate the teasing Ellie often enacted on you when the current roles were reversed. Your teeth scraped over the flesh of her inner thigh, tongue following the indents as you spent a few minutes kissing over each thigh, enjoying how you could tell her center was growing weepier by the second. “Don't fuckin tease,” Ellie breathed eventually, her hand finding your head, guiding it up between her more.

Always looking to please, you don’t put up a fight— tongue poking out to lavish over her pussy, collecting the wetness built there. You pressed your neck into an uncomfortable bend, fingers pulling her thighs apart for a better angle. Taking time with the feeling of her shaking chest reverberating on your face, of the only smell and taste you could feel was her, you licked lazily. You searched around her folds to your content. Only had you sped up when that mouthiness of Ellie returned to the silent house.

“Fuck, such a good mouth on you, angel,” Ellie groaned, tugging harshly at your roots as her hips rocked slightly. “You sure you haven’t done this before?” She asked as if you could reply, pressing further down into you as another wave of wetness spread across your lips and cheeks. “Too fuckin good,” she muttered, head tilting back to let a ragged breath out into the air.

The tongue dipped over her clit, causing another swear out of her lips. “Right there, do that again,” she asked, rewarding you with another soft pet over your hair before fingers wrapped in it again. Your body listened before your kind even could, wet lips wrapping around her bud. “Jesus-” Ellie whined. It sends signals straight through each nerve in your body, raising a deep seeded want to hear that sound again, sucking harshly at her clit and then licking up the slick dripping from her slit again, a fast-paced pattern following. You didn’t mind how sticky you felt, how beads of sweat built where your knees folded, how sore your neck was becoming. What you did care about was the now constant groans falling from Ellie.

“What if your dad could see you now, angel?” Ellie spoke, causing you to press your thighs together at the mere thought of being caught. “His pretty little daughter on her knees for the farm hand, acting like she’s starved for my cunt,” Ellie grits, a harsher grip on the locks of your hair. “What would your daddy think, baby?”

If Ellie had told you her words were magic, you would have believed it with the next set of sounds you both heard. Heavy boots stomping up the stairs. Maybe you had been too focused on your current desire to listen to the gravel road crunching under tires or the flimsy porch door opening in the wind. When a harsh knock comes to your door, a hand yanks you from her thighs, neck tilting to look up at messy auburn hair and flushed cheeks. Ellie’s eyes danced around your glossy lips and cheeks, nearly folding to her own knees when you licked at the wetness on your bottom lip.

“You in there, darling? You seen Ellie? All her tools are here, but I can’t find her. The farmer's market ended early cause’ of the heat.” Both of your bodies froze completely, though Ellie’s legs shook in what you assumed to be nervousness.

Ellie gave another sharp tug to your hair, mouthing for you to answer. Your voice struggles to find a footing that makes it sound steady in your throat as you answer your father, “I'm here, Daddy, just takin a nap. I think Ellie’s out in the south barn, remember her saying she forgot some wood for the stairs there.”

Before you can even consider answering again, Ellie is forcing you back between her thighs, and you happily go back to lapping at her despite the way your heart was falling into the pit of your stomach knowing full well one twist of the doorknob would ruin everything.

“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Gonna do some work in my office,” your dad answered. It's a relief when he doesn’t search for a reply, the creaking floorboard sounding at the same time Ellie can't bite back a softer moan.

The sound of his office door shutting has Ellie a little more confident when her rasping voice sounds, “Want you to make me come before he finds us.” She sighs it out, cheeks almost as wet as yours from the sweat building against the freckles there. You were positive there was nothing prettier.

“Want to soak your face while he’s right next door.”

#rins reqs ❀.#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams smut

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sanjoongie · 5 months ago

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Breed! Sub-Chapter 3.5

Observation

ღPairing: alien! Jung Wooyoung x human! Jeong Yunho

ღGenre: smut with no plot

ღAu: alien!teez, s2l

ღWord Count: 1,940

ღWarnings: voyeurism, male masturbation, questions of sexuality, verbal instruction, edging, big dick! Yunho, mentions of rough sex, fingering (m), bisexuality,

ღRated: 18+, MDNI

ღSummary~ Wooyoung has been tasked by Hongjoong to abduct a male human and observe the masturbation ritual and to also capture and catalog the humans cum, to compare with the alien’s of course. But can he maintain Hongjoong’s order of not having sex with himself?

ღAuthor’s Note~ This chapter takes place between 3 and 4. It does not involve the reader nor the mission of breeding with her. You do not have to read, it falls outside the main plot, but it will put insight for when Wooyoung shows back up at the ship 😉

ღChapter 3~Research | All Chapters | Chapter 4~ Unfamiliar

Wooyoung was bored. The requirements to observe a human were quite clear. They had to be alone for most of the time, so that it was easier to abduct them. He had found one human, quite tall, who insisted on practicing throwing an ball against a metal lattice fence, for reasons that eluded Wooyoung.

But waiting for this human to do something sexual was driving him up the wall. This human, this Yunho, rarely spoke to anyone of the opposite gender. And when he did it was stammering words. Wooyoung cocked his head as he observed the shy human. Yunho wasn’t like San at all.

Wooyoung spun around in the chair in the tiny observation ship he was piloting. He was about to give up on Yunho’s potential when the human male collapsed on his bed and pulled out a human portable computer. Wooyoung’s interest perked up. He knew that motion. Was the human male finally going to masturbate?

Yunho hummed to himself and Wooyoung leaned forward to see what the human was pulling up on his screen. Wooyoung shouted in celebration when he saw the familiar site that hosted the mating videos the humans watched. This was his chance.

Wooyoung used a toggle to aim the abduction ray and then pressed a button confidently. Yunho yelped in surprise. One minute, he was lying on his bed in his room, and with a flash of white, he was transported to an empty, sterile, white room.

“What the?--” The male shouted in alarm

“Calm down, Human,” Wooyoung leaned over the console to utter into the speaker. “You have been chosen for observation of the male masturbation ritual. You will masturbate and I will take the notes. You will begin.”

Wooyoung pulled up the same video Yunho had been watching. The girl in question was getting fucked so aggressively that her breath was being pushed out of her body. And she was making noises that almost sounded like she was pained. But when the camera zoomed in and the male pulled his cock out and spread the female's lower lips, it showed the female drenched.

It took only a few moments of the male beginning to fuck the female on screen again, and male’s cock was pressing against his baggy pants.

“I--I’m not doing anything. This is--this is against my rights!” The Yunho shouted. He covered his groin as well.

Wooyoung sighed. If he learned anything from Babe, it was that she didn’t like how sterile and foreign everything had been. She had San also, so perhaps this male was feeling vulnerable without someone to cling to. Hongjoong didn’t mention anything about not having any direct contact with the human he abducted.

Wooyoung shoved out of his seat almost eagerly and made his way to the small observation room that Yunho was in. The door opened as he stepped up to it and he stepped quickly to come to the side of the male who he abducted.

“My name is Wooyoung, what’s yours?” He chirped cheerfully.

The male eyed him, eyes furrowed in confusion and the beginnings of anger. “Yunho. What the hell is going on here?”

“I’ve already told you. Are you one of those humans that isn’t very smart?” Wooyoung clucked his tongue in disappointment.

“Why do you keep referring to me as a human?” Yunho demanded.

“Because I’m not from here.” When Yunho blinked at Wooyoung blankly, Wooyoung elaborated. “I wasn’t born on Earth. Or even this galaxy if I’m being completely honest.”

Yunho buried his face in his hands. “I’ve got to be dreaming.”

“Mmmm, no, dreams are not very accurate when it comes to real life scenarios, we tried that out already,” Wooyoung corrected Yunho.

Yunho’s face looked like he agreed with that statement.

“If you’re an alien, why do you want to watch me m-masturbate?” He stuttered.

Wooyoung grinned. Yunho’s ears had gotten red when he stuttered. He was… cute? “We want to retain a sample of your semen for study. Also, we need to understand why a human would release the life-bearing seed when there is no female available to impregnate.”

Yunho moaned softly and then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Well… you see…it’s kinda like…” Yunho’s face became more and more red.

Wooyoung waved Yunho’s words away. “Masturbate first. Answers later.”

Yunho stared into his lap, wringing his hands. “I don’t think I can perform when I know someone is watching.”

Wooyoung cocked his head. The notion didn’t sound unappealing to him. Perhaps this was like when they observed that different males enjoyed different videos of mating humans.

“Is it common for males to insert a finger inside of their hole when they masturbate?” Wooyoung leaned in curiously to peer at Yunho’s face. “Do you like that?”

Yunho sputtered and leaned back away from Wooyoung. “No. I don’t know. I’ve never--can we go back to the more action and less talk part?”

Wooyoung smiled, looking both smug and pleased. “Sure. No problem.”

The alien walked away, the door making a whooshing sound as it moved to open and close behind him. Wooyoung had a slight bounce to his step. This was fun, actually. Maybe he might learn something useful and Hongjoong wouldn’t be so mad at him anymore.

Yunho adjusted himself on the floor and made it so the video started up again. His ears and neck were completely red but he did pull down his sweatpants again to make his cock available. Wooyoung hadn't seen much of San’s cock but he was pretty sure Yunho was bigger than the other abducted male. Did that mean something?

Wooyoung shook his head. Mind on the mission. “Human--er--Yunho, I need you to walk me through verbally what exactly is turning you on about this particular video.”

Yunho grumbled under his breath. “I can’t!! Just let me start, okay?”

Wooyoung shrugged to himself and didn’t respond. Yunho grasped the base of his cock, lightly squeezing between his thumb and forefinger. Once the woman on the screen began to moan obscenely, Yunho started to move his hand up and down his length. He mumbled to himself and then Wooyoung had to tell him to speak louder.

“I’m too big to be rough with any of the girls I’ve dated,” Yunho said a little bit louder. “So watching this guy, who is very big, fuck the hell out of this girl really turns me on.”

Wooyoung nodded to himself. That made sense. The human enjoyed the fantasy which he could not enjoy in real life. But it didn’t feel like San had that problem with Babe.

“Perhaps you haven’t found the right female,” Wooyoung observed.

Yunho sputtered again, mumbling and grumbling under his breath. He was quite stubborn, this male. The conversation stayed silent for a good couple minutes as Yunho appeared to get quite absorbed into the video and masturbating. But what really intrigued Wooyoung was when Yunho seemed to get worked up and the couple switched positions, Yunho grasped the base of his cock, gasping.

“Why do you do that?” Wooyoung demanded immediately.

“I--” Yunho tossed his head back, looking as if he was frustrated, but he had done it to himself. “I like to edge myself.”

“Edge?” Wooyoung looked for clarification.

Yunho bit down hard on his lower lip. “I like to stop masturbating just before I come. If I do that, when I finally come, it’ll feel better.”

“Better how?” Wooyoung asked.

“The… explosion is more pleasurable. If you wait and hold off, it’s just better,” Yunho said simply.

Wooyoung didn’t understand, why not just feel the pleasure again after you came the first time? Humans were interesting. Especially this one.

“Well, don’t do that again! We need to capture a sample of your semen, so you need to come!” Wooyoung instructed.

“Okay, okay,” Yunho agreed.

Wooyoung found that he was no longer interested in the video that Yunho was watching. He was more intrigued by what the human was doing more than anything else. Yunho was stroking his length and making more noises now. Perhaps the human was more comfortable now that they had spoken more.

“Ah,” Yunho gasped, “Fuck. It feels… it feels so good. To think of fucking that pussy. How wet and warm and tight it would be.” Yunho’s entire fist was wrapped around his length now. He began to buck up into his fist.

“I…” Yunho whined and Wooyoung bit down on a finger.

What was wrong with him? Why was this observation… Wooyoung looked down and gasped. He was as hard as he was watching San perform the oral ritual on Babe.

“I wanna come,” Yunho whimpered.

Wooyoung faltered, his mind quickly focusing on the way that the ship would collect Yunho’s semen. He pressed a few buttons and prepared.

“Go ahead, Yunho,” Wooyoung said in a husky voice.

Yunho, with much gusto, cried out loudly. Wooyoung made it so that the gravity was lighter suddenly, making all of Yunho’s seed hover in the air. Yunho’s eyes widened as his cum and his body began to float. A tiny device moved through the air, collecting Yunho’s semen with pin-point accuracy. Once it was done, it left the room and Yunho fell with an ‘oof’ to the floor again.

Wooyoung felt tight with urgency. He wasn’t allowed to have sex with himself, Hongjoong forbade it. But he so desperately wanted to. His cock hurt with how hard it was throbbing. Perhaps if he came back to Hongjoong, and proved he had done everything correctly, Hongjoong would let him fuck Babe.

Wooyoung glanced at Yunho, who was looking around like he was waiting for Wooyoung to come out again. But Wooyoung could tell, in his gut, that that was not a good idea.

“Yunho… is it possible for males to want to fornicate with both females and males? Even though they know that no offspring will be produced?” Wooyoung wondered.

Yunho was very, very red, Wooyoung observed. “I--yeah--that’s--that’s a thing here--you know we have sex for just pleasure, right? Not everything is about making babies.”

Wooyoung was starting to get that feeling. “Thank you, human, now time to send you back!”

“Wait!” Yunho yelled.

Wooyoung’s finger hovered over the button that would have dismissed the male human. “Is there something wrong?”

“You’re going to send me back after only one observation?” Yunho said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yes,” Wooyoung said.

Yunho scratched the back of his neck. “Well, that’s hardly scientific of you.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed down, sensing judgment, maybe even superiority in Yunho’s voice. “Would you repeat that?”

Yunho cleared his throat. “I only mean, us humans, we try things out many many times to make sure the data is accurate. Don’t you want information that’s right instead of random?”

Wooyoung breathed in and out. Hongjoong didn’t say anything about sending the human back after Wooyoung observed him. They certainly didn’t send back San and Babe. Maybe Wooyoung didn’t have to send back Yunho.

“I knew that!” Wooyoung said stiffly. “It was a test. We hardly want subjects that aren’t enthusiastic. And you didn’t want to help when I first told you to. Are you sure you want to stay?”

Yunho looked around the room like he’d rather speak to a face rather than a voice that seemed to come from everywhere yet nowhere. Wooyoung was absolutely certain he better not encounter Yunho again while his cock was hard.

“I want to stay,” Yunho said resolutely.

Maybe Hongjoong would commend him for not only following instructions to the letter but thinking ahead! Wooyoung looked forward to the praise. Hopefully his cock became soft before that or he was sure he’d get yelled at again.

Chapter 3~Research | All Chapters | Chapter 4~ Unfamiliar

Breed! taglist: @st4rhwa @tiny-apocalypse @is4b3ll3s @mulletjoonsupremacy @lavishloving

#pirateeznet #ateez smut #atz smut #jung wooyoung smut #jeong yunho smut #alien!teez #topaz's work #ღatz #recent #wooyu smut

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witchofthesouls · 10 months ago

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Hey! I saw an earlier post you had about the boys in the grocery store and it got me wondering about how they would react to hunting. I’m a hunter, have been all my life. I hunt deer, boars, ducks, coyotes, turkeys, quails, pheasants, wild Burmese pythons, and I fish locally too (strictly a vermin exterminator and food hunter, I find sports hunting to be distasteful and I strictly use a bow and arrow, no traps or guns as I take issues with those too). I can picture the absolute horror of the TFP or Lost Light bots seeing their/a human skinning and processing an animal that they just hunted for food, they see the modern convinces that are grocery stores so it’s easy to forget where human food actually comes from 😂

Weirdly enough, IDW/MTMTE does have Cybertronian edibles like cesium salami and rust sticks.

But then again, there's a big percentage of the crew members who were produced by the war, so there's a great chance that they didn't get a crash course on things that were deemed "unnecessary," like Cybertronian cuisine and fauna to forage and hunt.

TFP Cybertronians, on the other hand, have Questions.

Get ready to pull up diagrams, manuals, videos, and live demonstrations via YouTube or your own hands because they got the curiosity of two-year-old with the capacity to keep you in their palm for no escape.

Ratchet absolutely hates it. It's too messy and squishy and completely unalike the organized and relatively clean method of converting crystals to fuel. Horrified over the mysteries of hotdogs and how everything can and will kill humans without specific preparations to negate the toxins. Ratchet is boggled over spice challenges and how the hell humanity hadn't died in its infancy over culinary explorations. Someone told him to look up Hákarl.

He takes great displeasure when the kids sass him over Cybertronians eating their own blood. Different. Absolutely different. He clucks over the base kitchen and is not above making things disappear. He argues with June and Agent Fowler over the groceries and fast food bags. Ratchet's crunchy.

Bulkhead actually enjoys fishing. He's more catch and release rather than for keeping and gutting. He likes soaking up the heat of the sun, the sound of running water, birdsong, and insects buzzing, the gear setup and picking out the right lure and bait. It's a different kind of downtime, but it's nice. All he's missing is engex, but he's able to throw a line farther out than anyone else and has the capability to detect motion far greater than an average human. He still wants an engex cube.

Arcee has mixed feelings. She enjoys hunting. Patience, tracking, stealth, and the sense of accomplishment with a clean catch. She likes less the process of handling carcasses, but really hates waste anything that could have been useful. Meat, leather, tools, jewelry, and raw ingredients that could be sold or traded. Arcee just doesn't like sharing something with Airachnid's methods.

Bumblebee's a scout. People expected him to like foraging or the wilds. He prefers domesticated stock. In particular, beekeeping. To him, it represents a more equivalent partnership: he provides accessible resources and safe quarters and the bees yield honey, comb, and wax in return. If the hive don't like him or the area, then they can leave elsewhere.

Optimus is deeply fascinated by how Earth's biodiversity is so immense and how ecosystems are so diverse and complex, yet so fragile. He quietly wishes for Alpha Trion's presence because Optimus is seeing familiar similarities of Cybertronian long gone biomes: wetlands, woodlands, and reefs. The Sea of Rust once was a massive ocean of mineral-laden Energon. It has long since disappeared by the consensus of heavy, unregulated industrialization, but if Earth has the water cycle, ocean currents and belts, and complex system of thermoregulation that replenishes itself, then Cybertron had to have something similar at one point, no?

#ask #transformers #transformer prime #tfp #optimus #optimus prime #ratchet #bulkhead #arcee #bumblebee #culture clash #cybertronian culture #maccadam #my writing #look Ratchet is completely scandalized and crunchy #Optimus would watch too many nature docs and try to fish exactly like a bear #the autobots get fascinated by cooking shows tho

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siderealscribblings · 3 months ago

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This beastie is 13k words; here's an appetizer until I get it properly portioned

_____________

“A-Apologies, Madam; I-I think the bell is stuck somehow.”

Yae Miko wasn’t terribly upset that she had been locked out on the surface while taking a break from the claustrophobic ballroom, but like all kitsune she had an insatiable urge to mess with mortals. And so as the attendant scrambled to get the bell working, she continued to glare at him as though every second she spent outside was the most insulting thing she had experienced in her entire life.

“I am going to give you until the count of three to summon that wretched contraption and then-” Miko trailed off as a familiar figure came hustling down the dock flanked by two gardes. “Oh, here comes M. Neuvillette now. What did you say your name was again? I’d like to be thorough in my report.”

“Lady Yae?” Neuvillette asked, dismissing his escort with a nod as the panicked bell attendant jumped headfirst in the water to avoid the Iudex’s wrath unstick the diving bell from the bottom of the lake. “Why aren’t you downstairs with the rest of the party?”

“You first,” Miko said, leaning against the railing as she watched the diving bell rise from the depths below.

Can this woman not give a straight answer? Neuvillette thought. “I was…attending to some business at the Opera.”

“Oh, that business with the archer?” Miko asked. “I thought you would have handed that off to someone else.”

“No…I thought I would ensure it was properly investigated,” Neuvillette said, narrowing his eyes at Miko. “How do you know about that?”

“People talk, I listen,” Miko said with a toothy smile. “People also say that a very large pack of gardes escorted an adeptus to the Opera. I hope you were ensuring Miss Cloud Retainer got to her opera box unharmed.”

I swear this bloody nation is populated entirely by gossips, Neuvillette thought. “Madam Cloud Retainer was invited to tour the Opera’s private chambers by the Archon herself. I think she left in high spirits, though a bit disappointed that her request to examine the Oratrice was declined.”

“Wise move; I know her to be one of Rex Lapis’ little gems and I shudder to think what would happen if he thought you were imprisoning her,” Miko said, hand over her heart in a gesture of mock indignation.

“Thankfully, we will not have an opportunity to find out,” Neuvillette said. At least not for what happened to Cloud Retainer.

Neuvillette had spent the better part of an hour studying the men’s bodies as much as he could without disturbing their corpses, scanning them with Hydro for any clues to what killed them. As he feared, their organs had ruptured and melted into slurry as the Primordial water pulsed through them. They weren’t Fontish, so they were still in one piece, though Neuvillette worried the slightest prick would burst them like balloons.

“So if you were not interrogating our friend from Liyue, what were you doing?” Miko asked. “Your Archon seemed very anxious about your whereabouts during dinner. I’m afraid we ate without you, but in Lady Furina’s defense she was locked underwater with a few hundred people who have never missed so much as a tea time in their lives.”

“I don’t mind,” Neuvillette shrugged. “Work took a little longer than usual; I wouldn’t want anyone to starve on my account.”

“You don’t mind eating scraps after everyone else has eaten their fill?” Miko clucked. “You are a good servant, aren’t you?”

“...thank you?” Neuvillette said, though her compliment sounded almost like an insult. “Social gatherings are more Lady Furina’s speed so I’m happy to let her handle them.”

“Quite the pair you make,” Miko said. “I’m sure she adequately rewards you for your diligent service, doesn’t she?”

There was a barb to each question that hooked itself in Neuvillette on the way out, each probing remark irritating him more than the last as she seemed to be driving at something. “I’m comfortable.”

“Comfortable spending your immortal existence catering to an Archon’s whims?” Miko said, studying his face carefully. “...I believe you are. Life under an Archon’s wing is a comfortable existence, isn’t it? Lacking certain freedoms but such is the life of a god’s favorite pet.”

Pet? Neuvillette’s lip curled at this, the gesture seemingly amusing Miko. “I have heard the Inazuman dialect is an indirect one…in Fontaine we value forthrightness.”

“Liar; there isn’t a nation in the world that values directness as much as it claims to,” Miko said as the panicked diving bell attendant resurfaced riding the bell to the dock.

“S-Sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am,” the attendant stammered, opening the door to the padded diving bell. “P-Please enjoy yourselves!”

“Thank you,” Neuvillette said, watching as the attendant flinched away from him as he entered the bell. The tight brass elevator was big enough for two people and soon Miko’s cloying sakura scent filled the cramped cell as the attendant sealed them in and launched the bell back into the lake.

“Then let me be forthright since you insist so fiercely,” Miko said, watching Neuvillette’s back as he deliberately stared out the window. “As someone who wasted too much of her life devoted to an Archon, you should take care that your devotion doesn't consume you. You might wake up one day and find that the love between gods and their subjects flows one way.”

“It sounds like you have had a bad experience,” Neuvillette grumbled. “I am sorry for your misfortune, but please do not presume to know of my relationship with Lady Furina.”

“I don’t need to presume,” Miko sniffed. “Anyone who gets close to a star inevitably gets pulled into its orbit. It’s natural to be drawn to great power and beauty…I’d be surprised if you weren’t devoted to her. But- ”

“But what?” Neuvillette snapped, finally turning to face her. “Did it ever occur to you that Lady Furina and I have similar goals? That we might want the same thing regardless of any devotion?”

“Your goal is to help her rule the country that used to be yours?” Miko asked. “Do you really have no pride?”

“Plenty; I just choose to spend it wisely,” Neuvillette sniffed. “She aims to save this country from its prophesied doom; I aim to do the same.”

“The last I saw your lady, she was aiming herself at the snack table and enjoying the company of diplomats from Snezhnaya while you were attending to her business,” Miko sighed as the bell slid into the ballroom’s underwater port. “But perhaps I don’t know what I’m talking about…after all, I’m sure you're nothing like Dvalin. Or that troublesome dragon Rex Lapis locked away once he became too much of an inconvenience.”

“Dragon?” Neuvillette asked. “What-”

The bell lurched to a stop, the door popping open and letting the warm light of the ballroom in.

“Your Archon hasn’t told you?” Miko said with an infuriatingly placid smile as she climbed out of the diving bell into the warm, buzzing lights that laced the roof of the glass dome. “How unusual…well, enjoy what’s left of the party.”

Just as quickly as she arrived, Miko disappeared, dissolving into the throng of onlookers and leaving Neuvillette stewing in impotent irritation.

#writeblogging #the games of divinity #in which Yae Miko offloads her emotional baggage on a dragon who has 800 things he would rather care about

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magicalrocketships · 1 year ago

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Maybe you’ve moved on but I gotta ask.

How is de aged Max doing today? What is him and Daniel up to?

I will never have moved on from tiny Max. Never! He has my full and entire heart. I have at least three versions of this entire universe running concurrently in my head at any one time. But today Daniel has to find some clothes and shoes and toys for a newly small Max, and Max still refuses to tell him what he would like to eat for breakfast.

There is a POSSIBILITY that this link shows the stuff I've already posted in chronological order. Will it work on both mobile and browser? Who knows. Anyway, this bit follows directly on from this part.

1100 words of de-aged Max:

The woman who comes to deliver Max's Go Small stuff is called Charlotte, she's dressed impeccably, and she obviously thinks she's extremely good with children.

She has, however, met her match in Max, because Max maintains the same stubborn silence he's been giving Daniel all morning. He folds his arms and sits on the sofa in Daniel's hastily washed and dried old Go Small kit, and barely allows Charlotte to measure his feet for some shoes. He does not answer any of her questions, and buries his face in Daniel's side when she has to put his foot in the foot measuring thingy.

Max is not very good in the morning when he's normal sized, but when he's just a baby and he's scared and trying to hide it and he's been up in the middle of the night having adventures with washing machines and unexpected baths and too-big Daniel t-shirts, well. He'd barely consented to eat any breakfast, even after Daniel had gone all out (little bowls of the two different types of cereal he has, another piece of toast with a jam smiley face on it, and then a fuck-it bowl of sweets from his bag of M&S Percy Pigs from when he was in Milton Keynes last month, because Max won't be small for long and he has to eat something). Max had sat at Daniel's table, sleepy and quiet and stubborn and shy, had eaten two bites of toast (avoiding the jam), a handful of cheerios, and three of the sweets. He'd eaten the sweets without taking his eyes off of Daniel's face, which remained creepy. He is absolutely not up for meeting strangers in Daniel's living room who do strange things like deposit bags and boxes in the doorway and then ask to measure his feet.

"What kind of shoes would you like, Max?" Charlotte asks, which seems like a stupid question to ask given that Max has given her exactly zero interactions since she arrived, and he very clearly does not want any shoes at all. "We have red ones, and green ones, and blue ones, and some with pictures on, if you don't want a colour. We have Spider-man, and Pikachu, and—"

For the very first time all day, Max makes a voluntary noise. His gaze darts to Daniel, his eyes bright.

Daniel purposefully softens his smile. "Something there you like the sound of, Maxy-Max? Was it the green ones?"

Max shakes his head no.

"Well, it must be the Spider-man ones, then." He turns to Charlotte, giving her the ghost of a wink. "I think—"

"No," Max says quickly. When he says "Pikachu please," he says it so quickly the words run together, all mixed up like they've just run into a wall and scattered letters everywhere.

"Pikachu, hey?" Daniel says. "That's a very good choice, Maxy-Max."

"They're in the van," Charlotte says, getting to her feet. "I'll go and get them, and some socks to match, maybe? Then we can try them on, make sure they fit nicely."

As she leaves, Max stares wide-eyed up at Daniel. "Pikachu shoes?"

"Pikachu shoes," Daniel agrees. "Pikachu, that's the chicken, right? Cluck-cluck."

"No," Max frowns. "Pikachu is a mouse, Daniel."

"Right," Daniel says, nodding. "The purple mouse, I forgot. Silly Daniel."

"He is yellow," Max says, still frowning. "Pikachu is yellow and he's a mouse and he's the best one. He has a tail that goes like this--" he shapes out a lightning bolt in the air, kind of, and Daniel puts on his best learning face. "He likes ketchup."

"Ohhh," Daniel says. "Like you like tomato soup."

Max's eyes get really wide. He beams.

Daniel rests his chin on his palm. "Do you know anything else about Pokemon? I don't think I know anything. I thought Pikachu was a purple chicken."

Max tells Daniel at least fifteen things about Pokemon before Charlotte comes back brandishing a pair of Pikachu trainers in one hand, and a bag of things to up-sell Daniel in the other. Daniel doesn't bother reviewing them, since they're clearly Pokemon clothes and books and socks and toys, and he's not exactly poor. If Max gets big again today, they can all go to some other Pokemon-obsessed seven year old. He agrees to take them all, even as Max tells him all about Charmander — his tail is on fire, Daniel, but he doesn't set on fire, it is all right, it is just his tail — and Squirtle, who Daniel believes is a horse and Max has to explain is a turtle.

"Of course," Daniel says, as he finishes velcroing Max's Pikachu trainers closed. They're teamed with matching socks. Daniel does not choose to think about what he's just paid for either of them. "Silly me. The horse is the other one, right?"

Max blinks at him like Daniel is extremely stupid. It's the cutest fucking thing Daniel has ever seen in his entire fucking life. He's seen that expression on Max's face before, only more grown up-shaped and usually directed towards the journalist with the stupidest question in any given press session. Right now the full baby force of it is directed towards him.

"Jigglypuff, right?" Daniel says. "The horse?"

"He is not a horse, Daniel," Max says finally. Daniel's stupidity is clearly weighing heavy on him, because when Daniel gets up to say thank you and good bye to Charlotte, he gets up too, complete with new shoes, and hides behind Daniel's hip, hands to Daniel's waistband. He does not say goodbye. Daniel doesn't ask him to, particularly as when he shakes Charlotte's hand, she whispers, got yourself a handful there, and nods towards baby Max.

Daniel is glad that he's standing as a physical shield between her and Max, because right now he feels like he could evolve into some kind of huge fucking terrifying Pokemon if anyone on the planet said anything mean about the scared little boy clutching his t-shirt. "I've got pretty big hands," he says finally, and shuts the door on her.

Then, he turns back around to Max, who's looking down in wonder at his yellow Pikachu trainers and matching socks, his hand still tangled in Daniel's shirt.

"You like your new shoes, Maxy?"

"Yes," Max says, wiggling his toes. "Is she coming back?"

"No," Daniel says, as Max slips his hand into his. Daniel's heart expands about fifteen sizes. "Do you want to look at your new book about flags?"

"A book about flags?" Max asks, blinking.

"Yeah," Daniel says, grabbing the package off the table. "You want to look?"

"Yes, please," Max says, and doesn't let go of Daniel's hand.

[continues here]

#my fic #de-aged maxiel #baby max #fic that i wrote

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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

Text

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Louisiana Rain

Day #20 - Under the Covers | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex, Brief Mentions of Past Trauma/Loss | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Marriage, Post-Corroded Coffin, Gareth & Eddie are BFFs, Traveling Sucks, Delayed Flights, Coming Home, That Middle of the Night Quiet

This is set in the same 'verse as Tuesday's/Wildflowers, but is standalone.

He drops his bag at the front door and toes off his shoes, first one, then the other. Nudging them under the bench so they're out of the way. It's late. Way later than he should be tonight, but flight delay after flight delay has made this damn day hours longer than it was supposed to be.

That cut into his days off, which fucking sucks. He loves touring, loves being on the road, but that's only because he can balance it with time at home. Because there's nothing more important, definitely not the music industry. It'll chew you up and spit you out, in the blink of an eye.

He's still learning, still growing up, but that? That he knows. He learned it hard and fast in the woods of Louisiana at twenty-five. Plane crashed, friends and band, gone. He learned it at twenty-three, car being searched, drugs seized, sitting in the back of a podunk cop car.

He's thirty now, but feels somehow both older and younger at the same time.

It's pretty late, but Gareth dials Eddie's number, intending to let it ring once, and then hang up. That's their signal that he's home, that his plane landed, that he's fine.

But the line connects immediately, "You're late."

Gareth laughs, "Tell me about it. I didn't think I was ever getting out of the airport today."

Eddie makes a sound, a clucking noise with his tongue, so Gareth reassures him, "I'm fine. Just several delays. Nothing else to report."

He could tell him that he was stranded in the airport in Baton Rouge for six hours, but there's no sense in riling him up. Looking down over the trees as they finally took off, he couldn't know if they were actually flying over where their plane went down, their lives permanently changed, but it still felt slightly uncomfortable and if he squeezed the armrests extra tight, nobody would know but him.

"Okay," Eddie finally says, "see you tomorrow, kid."

It's not a question, but it doesn't need to be, because of course he wants to see Eddie.

Eddie doesn't say anything else, and the line goes dead.

Gareth wanted to say it's already tomorrow, turn Eddie's constant refrain back on him, but everybody knows it doesn't count unless you've slept, so Gareth isn't about to argue with him. Not if Eddie's finally come around to Gareth's way of thinking.

Gareth goes into the guest bathroom, not wanting to wake her, but needing to wash the plane off of him, all the same. And when he crawls into bed, under the covers, hair wet, but feeling much more like himself, she slides her arm over his waist.

"You finally made it," Di says. He'd called from every airport he'd been stuck in, a snowballed disaster of a day. It could have been fixed by chartering a private plane or a smaller aircraft, but there are rules Gareth follows, superstitions, and if he had to wait for the jet, he had to wait for the jet.

"Eddie called. Twice," Di says around a yawn, and Gareth laughs. Of course he did. Of course Eddie knew he was running late, and why, but still had to pick up and give him shit about it.

"Yeah, he picked up when I called," Gareth says.

She smiles against his chest, "He was worried. Even if I told him you were fine, just annoyed."

Eddie worries. It's what he does. Gareth can't blame him.

She slides her hand down his stomach, grazing the elastic band of his boxer briefs, "Too tired…or?"

He's never too tired for that, and he laughs, "I think I could be persuaded."

She laughs, and hooks her leg over his thighs, sliding on top of him. Palming him through his underwear.

"Let me do all the work," she says, and he grinds up into her hand, through the fabric between them.

He lifts his hips, helping her as she pulls his boxers off, tossing them over the side of the bed.

"Di," he breathes out, and then she lifts up her hips, and sinks down on him. Holy shit.

He was expecting some foreplay, expecting to go down on her first, and he definitely wasn't expecting her to be this goddamn wet.

He arches up, tilting his head back on the pillow.

"Goddamn," he breathes out, and she giggles.

He slides his hands up under the old t-shirt she's wearing, something he'd stolen from Eddie in another lifetime, and grips both of her hips, and feels his wedding ring pinch and dig into his other fingers as he squeezes. It's been five years, and he still can't believe she actually agreed to marry him.

She grinds down onto his dick, setting the pace, the angle, and he's really just along for the ride, here. Not that he has any complaints about that. It's not gonna take long, not for either of them, and that's okay. That's not what tonight is, they'll have time for that later, before he catches the next plane.

And he's right, she comes quickly, easily, clenching down on him, squeezing, pulsing and he follows her over the edge. Forcing his hips upwards, taking her up off the bed with him, as he comes.

She stays seated on his cock, leaning forward, laying against him. Her hands find both of his cheeks, holding his face. He trails his fingers up and down her spine, gently as he goes soft in her body. It's gonna be a mess if it all leaks back out onto him, but he really doesn't care.

She's the best thing that ever happened to him, and he still worries he might be the worst that ever happened to her, sometimes. He knows that's not true, not now. Water under the bridge, but the thought still worries him, poking the sore spots, from time to time, under the cover of night.

"I love you," he says, and she squeezes him tighter.

He's home.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt twenty: under the covers #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #corroded coffin fic #ccf day twenty: under the covers #gareth fic #gareth (stranger things)#gareth & eddie #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic #wildflowers...and all the rest

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authorautumnbanks · 5 months ago

Text

Stranded With A Demon Lord and the Strongest Sorcerer (1)

"I think he's dead," a woman says. Satoru's brows furrow together. His body hurts like a motherfucker. And who is that talking? Doesn't sound like Shoko.

"Then leave him. We do not have time for this."

"We could at least bury the guy."

Satoru groans. He's not dead, but he sure as hell feels like someone took a sword to his head again. He opens his eyes and blinks. Maybe he is dead? He's never seen an angel in his life until now.

"Oh! You're alive," the woman exclaims. "How do you feel?"

He sits up and then freezes. The hell is that energy? Satoru glances over to the side and grits his teeth. He doesn't know what the fuck that is, but the white-haired male with markings on his face is not human. Cursed energy may feel monstrous at times, but it's nothing like what's coming from that thing.

On the other hand, the pretty woman next to him feels pure. Light. Nothing like that other white-haired male. This can't be the afterlife. He pinches his arm. Yep, he's still alive.

"Priestess, leave the human and let us go."

She rolls her brown eyes and scoffs. "I'm human and no, we aren't leaving him. He's in the same predicament we're in... I think."

"And where is here?" Satoru questions. Damn, his throat is dry too. He hates this. Satoru looks around. The vegetation is all wrong. The grass is purple, and the sky is yellow. Where the fuck is he?

"We don't know," she admits. "But we all woke up here. Well, Sesshomaru woke up first." She presses her lips together. "Sorry, I'm Kagome, by the way."

"... Satoru." He stands, ignoring how Kagome frets over him. Her hand touches him, and he rears back. What the hell? How did she touch him?

"Sorry!" She holds her hands up. "You shouldn't stand so suddenly. You were out longer than us."

Satoru's nostrils flare. "It's fine," he bites out. "You said you were human, like me. What is he?" Keep it together.

Sesshomaru quirks a brow. "Demon and you will address this Sesshomaru, as Sesshomaru-sama."

The fuck he will.

Satoru steps towards Sesshomaru, but Kagome gets between them and holds her hands out. He clucks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. These two know each other. It's obvious in the way the demon halts when Kagome puts her hands up. But how close are they? Close enough for the demon to listen to her. Is he bound to Kagome like a shikigami?

"No fighting, you two." Kagome glares at Satoru and then at Sesshomaru. "We don't know where we are or even how to get back home. Let's not fight each other."

Satoru stares at her hand on his chest for a beat and then looks up at the yellow sky. He isn't on Earth, that much he can tell, and based on Kagome's words, they know as much about this place as he does.

Did that box send him here?

He gnaws on his tongue. Something foul is at play. That weird brain that took over Suguru's body said he'd release him eventually, but something still doesn't seem right. There were skeletons and then a pink light before everything went black. Satoru glances down. Her hand is still on his chest, but she doesn't seem to notice. He tilts his head slightly to the side. Whatever energy she has, it's massive.

And warm.

Sesshomaru glares at him. It's slight, barely noticeable, but Satoru has great eyes. The demon's golden eyes harden. "Priestess, stand down."

"No."

The two stare at one another. Satoru clenches his fists. Why does it feel as though he is interrupting something? He needs to focus on getting back to his world.

"This Sesshomaru will toss you over my shoulder."

"No fighting," she repeats. "And no flashing Satoru. He doesn't want to see that."

Satoru blinks. His eyes drift down, lingering on her legs. That skirt is short.

"We should find a settlement and go from there," Kagome continues, pulling Satoru from his musings. How much did he miss? This isn't like him either, getting distracted by a pair of legs.

"You mean a city?" Satoru asks.

Kagome shrugs. "I'm preparing for the worst." She motions to the trees that curve and wrap around one another like vines. "This could be a forest and a city could be a ways off, or it could be a town..." She looks him up and down. "Like old timey."

Old timey?

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. No service. Kagome presses her face closer to his phone. He stares at her. "What?"

"It's not a flip phone?"

This time Satoru squints. "It's a smartphone?"

Sesshomaru stands off to the side, watching both of them with a bored expression. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Kagome straightens herself out. "Well, Satoru and I are both human, but we have opposing energies." Kagome holds out a finger. "You're a demon, so your energy is different, too." She ticks off another finger. "Sesshomaru is from the feudal period, but he won't tell me how many centuries he is."

Satoru keeps his face blank. Centuries-old? Feudal period?

"I'm 24, but I was born in the 80s," she continues. "And then there's you." Kagome motions to Satoru.

"... I was born in the 80s too and flip phones aren't a thing anymore." Satoru crosses his arms. "I'm 29," he adds.

Sesshomaru looks away and stares off into the distance. "It will rain." He walks away. Kagome rolls her eyes and motions for Satoru to come with them.

"Were you doing anything weird before you came here?" Kagome asks, walking next to him.

"Weird? No. I was fighting curses." He keeps the box to himself. They don't need to know he was sealed. Hell, they could be the reason he is here.

"Someone tried to curse you?"

"No... curses. Physical manifestations of negative emotions."

"Oh." Kagome taps a finger to her lips. "We have evil spirits, but not physical curses. Well, we were fighting too. Another demon."

"A half-breed," Sesshomaru states.

Kagome frowns at Sesshomaru's back. "A half-demon," she corrects. "A Naraku wanna-be, but that doesn't matter."

He waits for her to elaborate, but Kagome never does. She drops the subject as quickly as she brought it up.

"Are we walking around aimlessly?" Satoru asks. He isn't picking up on any cursed energy. The sky darkens and frankly, it looks like piss. What a dreary world to be transported to.

"This Sesshomaru is seeking shelter for the priestess. Humans are weak and are prone to sickness."

"That's code for, he doesn't want us to get sick." Kagome gives him a small smile and readjusts the yellow straps. Satoru frowns.

"Here, I can carry that." He holds out a hand. Kagome stares at him as if he has two heads. Is there something magical in that yellow bag of hers that she doesn't want him to get a hold of? "It looks heavy."

Kagome looks at his hand and then back at his face. "If you really want to." She slides the bag off, moving her bow and quiver to the side. "If we don't come across some settlement, I may need to make my own arrows."

Sesshomaru glances over his shoulder. "My claws are sufficient."

"Pause," Satoru says, sliding the bag on, which is heavier than he initially thought. "You said Sesshomaru is from the feudal era?"

"Sesshomaru-sama."

"But you're from my time period," Satoru continues. Yeah, no. He is not calling that demon, sama.

Kagome blows out a breath. "Time travel." She shrugs. "I don't usually drop that kind of bomb, but since we'll all in this strange place together... I wonder why us though. We may have both been born around the same time, but my world does not have curses."

Satoru hums in acknowledgment. His world doesn't have actual priestesses either, at least not ones that have energy like hers. Nor are there any demons in his world.

Same time period, different worlds.

Same world, different time periods.

All three of them have different energies, though Sesshomaru's demonic energy is similar to his cursed energy. Kagome's energy, though, is warmer and far more pure than cursed energy and certainly lighter than demonic. Though that's not the only difference. She's female and maybe he's reading too into it, but her name starts with a K, whereas his and Sesshomaru's names start with a S.

Maybe Kagome is telling the truth. He assesses her side profile. She isn't distraught or anxious about being in a different world... but she supposedly time travels too, so that may play a part in her nonchalance about this. There are too many variables and not enough answers. He keeps his eyes uncovered for now. A small furry creature with purple fur skitters by. It's as long as a weasel. It stops and stands on its hind legs. Opening its mouth, it flashes its long canines in what he assumes to be a warning. How the hell is its mouth as big as its head?

Satoru takes a step closer to Kagome.

A green light hits it and the creature is split in half.

"Vermin," Sesshomaru says and keeps walking.

Kagome sighs. "I kinda wanted to observe it."

"Pretty sure it wanted you for dinner," Satoru quips.

"You think so? I think it didn't like Sesshomaru. He's giving off major angry vibes."

"This Sesshomaru is not."

"See!"

Actually, he does not see. There was hardly any emotion behind that, and yet Kagome just knows? How long have they known each other? And what is that white fur over Sesshomaru's shoulder? A tail? Decoration?

"We will rest here until the rain subsides," Sesshomaru says, motioning to the cave. "There are no vermin."

"Oh good," Kagome quips, walking into the cave. "Satoru, I have a pot in my bag. We could boil the rainwater to be on the safe side."

Sesshomaru glances back and then walks off, leaving Satoru and Kagome alone in the cave. Satoru sets the bag down next to Kagome and watches as she pulls out a giant pot.

How?

"Where did he go?"

"To get firewood and maybe hunt more of those creatures in case we need food." Kagome sets the pot outside of the cave and sits down, staring out.

What the hell is he doing? The rain can't touch him, so why is he standing around in this cave? Satoru eyes Kagome's back. But she could touch him. Is it just her or is something in this world messing with his infinity?

"So, your world is riddled with curses? Is that why your energy is cursed? At least it feels that way."

Satoru sits next to her. His knee brushes against her leg. That's going to take some time to get used to. "The only way to exorcise a curse is with cursed energy. I'm not cursed. If anything, I'm blessed." He shrugs one shoulder. Though he doesn't feel blessed. "Curses are only invisible to normal humans, though some are sensitive enough to see them. Everyone has cursed energy, with some exceptions, but only a select group can utilize cursed energy." He looks at her. "And your world is filled with demons?"

"Not exactly. My time is safe. No curses. No demons." Kagome blows out a breath. "But demons existed at some point. I don't know what happened to them. Why did they exist in the past but not in my time? But demons aren't that bad, at least not the intelligent ones."

Satoru nods, though he's having a hard time visualizing this world she speaks of. "You said that you were fighting a half-demon?"

"Mhmm."

"So... half what?"

"Human." Kagome smiles and waves a hand at Sesshomaru. Satoru stands. What kind of creature is that? It's as big as a deer, but it's riddled with green scales like a fish.

"So, you two are together, then?"

Kagome drops her hand. "What? Me and Sesshomaru? No way. He hates humans and barely tolerates me."

"Priestess, tend to the fire," Sesshomaru says, dropping the beast and the firewood down. They land with a thud and the sound of rain falling follows. Satoru keeps his face blank, but he doesn't believe a word Kagome just said. He doesn't know this demon very well, but it's obvious Sesshomaru does more than tolerate Kagome.

The pot sizzles and Kagome makes an impressive cat yowl. "No! My pot!" She tries to run out, but Satoru blocks her path.

"I'll get it," he says, though internally he is kicking his own ass. This rain is some kind of acid and he's volunteering to get her pot? Satoru grits his teeth as he walks out of the cave and retrieves the pot. There is some water in it at least. And it's not sizzling now that the rain isn't hitting it.

"... Why aren't you wet?"

Satoru blinks. So, his infinity is working.

Wait.

He went out to retrieve a stupid pot, and he wasn't 100 percent sure that infinity was working? "Family secret," he quips, setting the pot down. Kagome may not have cursed energy, but he isn't convinced she didn't cast some kind of spell. "It's not affecting the forest. Maybe it doesn't react well to this material? Though the pot isn't melting now, even with the water in it."

Kagome huffs. "That's just great. I do have some water, so we aren't in dire need, but I was trying to be resourceful."

Satoru turns to the side right as a scale hits infinity. He scowls at Sesshomaru, who goes back to plucking the scales off. Thunder booms overhead. He bites back a sigh.

It's going to be a long day.

***

A/N: You don't see this and I don't know what the plot is. I only got vibes.

#crossover pairings #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #gojo satoru x kagome #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfiction #sesshomaru x kagome #satoru x sesshomaru #poly fic #new fic #kagome crossovers

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jjungkooksthighs · 2 months ago

Note

“I seem to recall quite a few times where fairness did not occur to you, minx,” he chides, giving her a little smack on the ass before pulling open the door to reveal Jin and three youthful-looking women, each close to her age. Each quickly curtsey, their heads lowering as a sign of respect. The only one who doesn’t is Jin, who instead pulls back his fingers before flicking them against her thigh. She stops striking him at his shoulder, choosing instead to hold herself up with one hand and clutch the pelt her mate had wrapped around her tight to her chest whilst she gives an apologetic look to Jin. Normally her alpha would allow no one but her attendants to touch her. But since he had quickly become his beloved’s best friend (the two were practically inseparable when he was not present), he could hardly find it in himself to forbid it when physical touch was something of the language of affection between omegeans. Jin spots the constellation of bruises and bites all over her neck, clucking his tongue before he puts a hand on his hip and comments sarcastically, “Think anyone will wonder if she’s been bedded this night, Pack Alpha? You could have been a little gentler, you know.” Jungkook adjusts her where he holds her over his shoulder, making no move to show any remorse while he boasts, “No one will doubt she has a mate that has no qualms with showing everyone how much he loves on her. I will not apologize for doing so. Besides,” he glances fixedly at her, “She already admitted she enjoyed it.” “Gods,” Jin puts his fingers between his brows, “You are impossible. Should I even ask why you’re parading her around like that or do I already know why?” So bluntly did he speak to her alpha, and the only reason why her mate allowed it was because Jin was the mate of his closest, most trusted friend. Jin had absolutely no filter, and it was something that his mate had absolutely adored. Jungkook himself tolerated it at first, but that toleration had over time softened to the point that the usual pack member’s formality and word games had become dull and boring where Jin’s headstrong bluntness was a breath of much needed air. Jungkook shrugs, her entire body lifting in the process. “If it has to do with her legs being temporarily incapable of bearing her weight because of what I did to her, then yes, your guess is probably right.” Jin just shakes his head into his hand that now pinches at the flesh between his brows. “How am I to have her attendants do much of anything if she’s thrown over your shoulder like a sack of meat the whole time?” “Hmm, that does present a problem, doesn’t it, my love?” He asks her, his arm coiling possessively around her. She’s got a retort right on her tongue, but the sound of footsteps through the foyer frenzies them away. Another familiar figure joins them, and he bows to Jungkook before rising and offering a cordial smile. “I see that my mate arrived before me. Forgive me, but I was doing a quick reconnaissance around the compound to ensure that all is in order for the Ausonde festival.” “Ausonde?” She questions dumbly, pushing herself up higher along his back so she can peer at Namjoon. Overprotectiveness rears in him at the arrival of the other male, his unused hand pulling the pelt down that had ridden up her thighs because of her squirming. Namjoon was a mated male, but he was a male nonetheless. “Have you forgotten what month and day that it is, my love? It’s not as if this is one of the most anticipated celebrations of the year.” She wracks her brain, but time so easily slips through her mind when she’s with him. At her lack of answer, Jin speaks up. “It is October, Lily. It is officially fall. We celebrate change and maturity, but also show thanks to the gods for watching over us.”

Jungkook sets her down carefully, each of her hands instinctively finding the sides of her waist to steady her on her unstable legs only after he’s pulled her pelt around her front tightly. He finishes for Jin, his irises ascending from where he holds the pelt closed up to her. “As Pack Alpha, the one overseeing and commanding all alphas, I am expected to lead it. And as my mate...as the Pack Omega, the one that presides over all omegas, you are to stand with me. You are to be by my side and together, we will herald the new season."

"Oh.." she remarks as her facial expression morphs into one of understanding, blushing as she looks down at the floor at his show of possessiveness when one of his hands holds her by the waist, the other pulling the pelt around her front tightly at the arrival of the other male. "That sounds nice, alpha." she smiles up at him, but, before she lets herself comment further on the topic at hand, she moves forward now, realizing that five others are standing right behind her and the fact that her alpha is stark naked in front of them not slipping her mind, a whine leaving her lips as she attempts to cover him up. Her alpha simply laughs at her subtle territoriality, his hand ruffling through her hair, uncaring of the playful scoff that leaves Jin and Namjoon's retribution at that. She just spares her best friend a chiding glance, her furrowed eyebrows a stark contrast to the shy smile that plays on her lips, a retort just about ready to spill from her lips. Before she can, the butterflies in her tummy consume her whole, her cheeks heating up when her alpha gently nudges her, turning her around so she can now face the group before he pulls her back against him, her breath hitching when she realizes he's still- "If you two lovebirds are done-" Jin teases with a cheeky grin, the comment coloring Lily's cheeks a bright red. "We have a festival to prepare for." "Oh!.." she has to stop herself from squealing at the sight of the bamboo plaid baskets placed on the floor before her, the lovely aroma of chrysanthemums and dahlias wafting through the air, the light orange and yellow shades bringing to her comfort and an odd sense of joy. She'd always liked this time of year. The crisp sound of dried leaves crushed under your feet, the fresh yet smoky delight it brings to mind, the taste of pumpkin pie and sweet treats so delectable she can already taste it. They'd already gotten ready it seems, dressed in lovely shades of purple, orange, and brown, the circlet that Jin wears around his head catching her eye first, a small gasp leaving her lips at the sight of it. "You look lovely, Jin!" she comments, only to hear the male chuckle, replying with something along the lines of "I know." the smug little- She grins at him, before turning around to face her alpha, and he knows she wants to get dressed for him now. After all, the look on his face whenever she revealed to him a new dress would have her blushing, the hoards of compliments and praises he'd shower her with if she ever felt insecure bringing a smile to her face at the memory. "Alpha.." she's about to start, but, the words are burned under his heated gaze, her cheeks turning red, her body growing at the sight of that goddamn smirk once again. She whines with a pout, her eyebrows furrowed. She attempts to take a step back, just to test the strength in her lower limbs, but it's useless, for the first step back has her legs almost giving out underneath her, a whimper leaving her at the tingling sensation, but he's there to catch her, gripping her waist firmly as he attempts to hide the smirk on his face, satisfaction and pride rearing its head at the sight of her so weak, all because of him. "This is your doing, you know?" she glares at him playfully.

“Easy, now, omega.” He helps her to balance, the little wobbles of her legs all the indication he needs to know that she’s not quite ready to walk on her own yet. “I’ve got you.”

She peeps back up at him, the ‘thank you’ she’d had on her lips rewarded with a kiss to the top of her head.

The osculation is light, and his lips are gone almost as soon as they’d come, but it is enough. Anything he gives, she will happily accept.

She lets her head fall back along his toned chest as he guides her back against him, preening at his touch that makes her warmer than any flame ever could.

Clearly she had the same effect on him, because he doesn’t relinquish her to the colder air that tries to come between them. The evidence of his feelings for her is evident in the hard length that presses against her ass, and though nudeness was of little consequence to most males since built, muscular physicality flecked by battle scars were the mark of strength, the possessive part of her that wanted to be the only one privy to such a sight paws and claws at her. She fits herself a little more snugly against him just to be sure his arousal is hidden.

But that cannot mask the scent of his desire that wafts from him. Once it sidles under Namjoon’s nose, he wrinkles it.

In front of them, Jin coughs, and only then does her mate seem to remember that they have company as he observes the wolves before them.

“Namjoon, do something about the Pack Alpha, will you? He’s making it stink in here.” Jin complains before pointing a long, bony finger at her. “And you better let him go with my mate while we get you ready for him. He-” Jin raises his finger toward her mate, “won’t be doing much of anything with this ceremony if he can’t even put some pants on.”

Normally, he wouldn’t care less about walking around with nothing on. But this celebration was no ordinary celebration. There was traditional attire that needed to be worn.

To choose not to don it was an affront to the gods.

But more importantly, he knew that his mate would not take it well if were to display all of his assets to the females of the pack. Her baser being would consume her, and she would go feral over any woman that so much as breathed too close to him.

He’d learned as much from one of her recent heats when he’d let her push him down onto the bed before she’d climbed astride him and taken her pleasure using his body, the frustration of watching another female’s gaze linger on him too long.

From where he leans against the wall across the room, his arms crossed over his chest, Namjoon gives a noncommittal response, “Please, Jin, I may be his closest friend, but even I know better than to get too close when he’s with his female. You should know that.”

Jin throws his hands up in the air, “We’re going to be late if you can’t manage to tear yourself away from her, Pack Alpha. Are you trying to get another earful of scolding from the elders? Don’t think Namjoon didn’t blabber about that last time to me. I heard all about it.”

“He can tell you everything for all that I care,” he pulls on the ends of the towel he’d left in her hair, her long, loose locks falling like a veil down her back before he wraps it around his hips. For her sake, he does this. Before her, he’d never even given it a second thought.

But the way she eyes the other three females like a hawk, waiting for one of them to look away from the floor, is all the reminder he needs that she doesn’t want others viewing what is hers alone to see.

“I know much of what you and my mate speak of when the two of you are in each other’s company. It was quite…enlightening to learn of when my beloved mate shared some of your most recent exploits with me” He reveals, using the heel of his foot to drag the small ottoman closer to him so she can sit down onto it. Its legs groan loudly as he does– the sound, wailing under the Pack Alpha’s words–causing Jin to grimace.

Jin bites down on his tongue, cursing at himself for having been exposed.

No wonder the Pack Alpha’s mate had been rendered incapable of walking. If he’d found out about the book…

“I need to give you my reconnaissance report, Pack Alpha,” Namjoon tries to change the subject. “And then we need to talk about the duties you will be expected to perform. I took the liberty of obtaining a scroll from the elders detailing all that you will need to do. This time will be different from all the ones you’ve led. This is because you are now mated.”

As he speaks, Jungkook lowers his lover down onto the ottoman, his fingertips running through her still damp hair whilst he stands protectively behind her.

Indeed, this time would be different. He’d never particularly enjoyed such trivial matters that came with being the Pack Alpha, but with her… with her, the world was brighter. More colorful. More vivacious.

With her, he would actually enjoy this.

“Very well. I cannot argue against that” He agrees, the hand he’d been keeping on her waist leaving her. No sooner has it left her than she is whining and to console her, he circles around her so that he’s stood in front of her. Like this, he can take her hand in his, bringing it to his mouth so that he can leave his trace there, too. His lips are soft as they come together in the middle of it and she doesn’t realize just how warm they are until he pulls away, the colder air quick to taunt her in his absence.

Against her flesh, he mouths the words as he speaks them through their bond.

Be a good girl and let them prepare you for me. You will spend the entire night at my side, my love, and I want you to take everyone’s breath away the way you do mine. You can do that for me, can’t you?

#alpha jungkook asks

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lixenn · 7 months ago

Note

You wanna write a little thing and ocs are okay? Then I’m curious on how you’d write Chief/Dan and Celeste interacting :3

If you want help with it I’m right here for ya!

Me: I won't promise more than a few sentences!

Also me: Writes a scene that's over two pages long

Here we are, one Dan and Celeste interaction fresh from the nonsense generator, please enjoy (also tell me if my try at Celeste is okay)

Tagging my buddy @myrmyrtheorca because she needs to know how worried she should be about Chief.

---

Dan has read the same sentence more than five times in the last ten minutes, and he still hasn’t made sense of it.

What was this report about again?

Something about the budget? Or property damage? He squints at the page, willing the words to stop dancing across the document. There aren’t enough numbers for this to be a budget report and he can’t spot any curses, so he doubts it’s from the Reps department.

Does he even need to check this? Has someone flooded his inbox with unnecessary paperwork again?

Well no, Dave sorts the documents landing on his desk by priority and this one was in the red folder, so it requires his signature.

…

What is he supposed to do again?

Dan sighs, rubbing his hand across his face.

He needs coffee.

No, scratch that. He craves coffee with his entire being but getting it would mean dragging his body out of his comfortable office chair and that sounds like an insurmountable chore right now, so he is stuck with his exhaustion. And paperwork. He’ always stuck with paperwork. Damn Squalo and his meddling ways. Damn his past self for being tempted by the pay raise and accepting the promotion.

A dull clunk distracts him from him from cursing Squalo’s whole bloodline.

There’s a cup of coffee on his desk.

Dan frowns and pokes the cup with his pen. Surprisingly, the pen is met with resistance.

Not a hallucination then.

…

Why is there coffee on his desk?

Dan shakes his head. No that’s not important. Better question: How is there coffee? Is he secretly a Mist and hasn’t noticed it? Can he just magic coffee out of thin air now? Why wasn’t he informed of this power years ago? Could have had access to magic coffee the entire time?

What a waste.

The tantalizing scent of the black ambrosia drags Dan away from his musings. Who cares where the coffee came from, it’s here now so he might as well benefit.

He reaches for the cup and takes a sip. The bitter aroma of ground beans fills his mouth. Dan closes his eyes and hums.

Yessss, that hits the spot.

A chuckle fills the room. “You looked like you really needed that.”

Dan’s eyes snap open but that’s the only sign of surprise his tired meatsuit would allow. There’s a person in his office. Since when? How long have they been standing there, watching him?

Wait, are there two of them? Dan blinks several times trying to get his vision to focus. The two blurry outlines combine into one. Just my shitty eyesight fucking me over again I guess.

Now, that he’s looking closer.

“Aunt Cel?” he murmurs, still too tired for showing any kind of enthusiasm.

The woman smiles at him, gentle but full of worry. “Hello there, dear. Having a rough time?”

Dan snorts. “Always,” he glares at the mountain of documents which haven’t had the decency to catch on fire while he was looking away. “What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to visit Skull this week.”

Celeste gives his messy office a brief once over and raises one of her neatly trimmed eyebrows at him.

“Yes, I was planning to depart today, but then I heard from poor Luss that you weren’t sleeping again. So, I figured it was time for a check-in.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he grumbles, miffed about Lussuria calling him out. Traitor. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“Honey, that kind of talk is the exact reason why I’m worried.” Celeste steps closer to his desk and cups his face between her hands. “When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?”

“I don’t know. What month is it?”

Celeste clucks her tongue at him, but she is still stroking his cheeks with her warm hands, so Dan will forgive her for the slight. “You’re going to bed, young man. Right now.”

“What?” Dan reels back from her touch, affronted and now slightly more awake. “No! Do you have any idea how much work there’s left to do? I need to finish these reports, then there’s the meeting with Squalo about,” he frowns, trying to remember the mail, “the panthers, I think? Well, anyways I have a meeting and I still need to go check on Bel, because he’s been awfully quiet lately and we all know that’s never a good sign and-“

Celeste holds up her hand, interrupting his babbling. “Stopping you right there. The only thing you need to do right now is get out of this stuffy office, lay down in your bed and sleep. I will take care of the rest.”

Dan gave his aunt the best glower he had in his arsenal. “No.”

“Daniele Costa.” The woman’s voice drops into a warning tone. “Don’t make me call your mother.”

He narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

The smile on Celeste’s face is as angelic as it is terrifying. “Try me.”

…

Fuck.

Dan knows when he’s beaten. Alerting his mother needs to be avoided at all costs. She will storm into the Varia compound, bury him under mountains of food and scold him about his sleeping habits in front of all the Executives. Again.

He shudders. One time is more than enough. Dave has been teasing him about it for months afterwards.

With that horrifying memory in mind, he heaves himself up from his chair, bids his aunt tired goodbye and trudges to his room.

It's only when he's finally tucked under his blanket, his heavy eyelids falling shut, that he realises:

She gave me fucking decaf.

---

Hope this makes sense, because I kinda reread this so many times it words have lost all meaning lol

KHR writing prompts

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #prompt answered #khr prompt #khr oc #khr daniele costa #the housekeeping au #that was fun to write #took a bit to get into the groove #but I quite enjoyed it once I manage to get the nonsense generator running #prompts are open

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rainbowbobatea · 3 months ago

Text

Spice 'n Everything Nice

"Are you the bastard who bailed on Shar?"

In the shadowy confines of an alleyway, Hugh approaches a man, his steps purposeful and his expression deadly serious. The man, leaning against a wall, takes a drag of his cigarette, eyeing Hugh with annoyance.

The man exhales a cloud of smoke, his eyes narrowing. "Who wants to know?"

Hugh steps closer, his tall frame imposing. "Answer my question: Are you the guy who let my girl down?"

The man—with his greasy hair and a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes—shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Yeah, yeah, I was. Wasn't really interested, to be honest."

Hugh's jaw tightens, his fists clenching at his sides. "How dare you let her down? How dare you even consider yourself worthy of her?"

The man laughs, a hollow, mirthless sound. "I can do whatever I want. Now, fuck off." He crushes his cigarette against Hugh's suit jacket, leaving a burning mark, and turns to walk away.

But Hugh isn't one to let things go.

Silently, he follows the man down the twisting alleyways, his eyes narrowed in anger. The man's ego, his careless attitude, and the fact that he'd dared to be with Shar, infuriated him…

As the man pauses, perhaps sensing he's being followed, Hugh acts. Fast.

Hugh pulls a large garbage bag from his coat, moving with a speed and efficiency that speaks of practice.

The man starts to turn, his eyes widening in as he realizes his mistake. "What the—?"

Hugh doesn't give him time to finish.

He pulls the bag over the man's head, sealing it tightly around his neck. The man's muffled screams echo down the alleyway as Hugh continues to wrap the bag around his flailing body.

With a satisfied nod, Hugh ties the bag shut and hoists it over his shoulder. He carries it to a nearby garbage bin and unceremoniously dumps it in, the man still thrashing inside.

“Mfffmmsm!!!”

As Hugh turns to leave, he catches a glimpse of blond hair disappearing around a corner.

"Hey! Who's there?" he calls out, his voice echoing off the walls.

He walks forward to find an old lady crossing the street. She has a dozen groceries in her basket, and her pace is dreadfully slow while her hands shake. Hugh decides to lend a helping hand.

"Hey, there. Let me help you with that."

The old lady clucks her tongue. "Well, aren't you a gentleman? Thank you, dear." She pats his arm, seemingly oblivious to the dark deed he'd just carried out.

Her eyes squint at him in gratefulness, and Hugh looks at the houses around them. A 'neighborhood watch' sign hung on a pole, colored in bright yellow, and next to it was garbage bin, the echoes of the man’s screams fading away…

The old woman looks up at him, smiling. “What was a young gentleman like you doing back there?”

"Ah, just taking out the trash, ma'am, just taking out the trash.”

“I’m telling y’all, the teas and the coffee we ingest are making us have to rely on the capitalistic fuel to control us,” Michael says, shaking his head. “And then? We turn into zombies when we stop ingesting them. We must put a stop to it ma brother.”

The customer stares, blinking in confusion. “Um…can I have my lattes now?”

The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans permeates the air as Michael rolls his eyes, leaning back against the counter. He sighs.

"Lattes, you say? Now, that's an interesting word choice," Michael says. "Six letters. Six, six, six. Like the number of the beast, my friends. The Illuminati is trying to brainwash us, and these coffee chains are their minions."

The customer hesitates, unsure whether to take Michael seriously or not. "Look, I don't know what you're on about, but I need my morning fix, so can we just—"

"Fix?" Michael interrupts, his eyes widening dramatically. "There, you said it yourself! You're addicted, controlled by these corporate giants! They hook you with their sugar and caffeine, and before you know it, you're one of the zombies, marching to their tune!"

Lizzie, overhearing, roughly shoves Michael away. With a swift, practiced motion, she grabs the two lattes and extends them toward the bewildered customer.

The customer takes them gratefully. "Uh, Thanks…"

"It's on the house," Lizzie says. "Consider it a sorry from us..." She shoots a pointed glare at Michael.

Michael, unfazed by the interruption, continues as if nothing happened. His voice rises, passion evident in every word. "You're still asleep, a slave to the system. But I'm here to open your eyes, to help you break free! Freeee!"

Meanwhile, Aaron bursts through the door of the café, his entrance dramatic for 12pm in the morning.

"Rev up those fryers! Because I am sure hungry for one-" he begins, but his enthusiastic proclamation is cut short by Lizzie's stern gaze.

Elizabeth walks around from the barista counter, her pregnant belly protruding prominently. She places her hands on her hips, fixing Aaron with a disapproving look.

"You're late," she states matter-of-factly as the manager. "We had to place Jacob at the fryer while you were gone. Where were you?"

Aaron shrugs nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by Lizzie's irritation. "So? And so was Shar yesterday- I heard she was an another date with the new guy."

The café buzzes with activity, customers chatting and sipping their drinks. Chad, walking through the cafe, rolls his eyes as he sets down a drink. A nearby customer pipes up, asking if their sugar-free lemonade is sweet enough.

Chad's exasperation is palpable as he mutters, "It's too early for this."

Mish, takes a dirty platter from a table, whispering into his ear. "You're telling me. I'm going to lose it if I hear another word from Mr. Don't Trust the Government. I'mma lose my mind."

The atmosphere in the café is a mix of tension and everyday bustle. There's muffins to be baked and customers to be served and Mish sighs, sliding a fresh pot of coffee across the counter to a waiting customer.

The man, hunched over his laptop, mutters his thanks without looking up. She's seen his type before: an aspiring writer, no doubt working on the next great American novel. Or so he thinks.

"Anything else?" she asks, her tone friendly yet weary.

The man finally looks up, his eyes blinking rapidly behind thick-rimmed glasses. "It's too cold," he complains, tapping his fingers irritably on the table. "Could I get a fresh cup, please?"

Mish's grip on the coffee pot tightens further, her smile faltering. "Of course. One fresh cup, coming right up."

The aspiring writer, still hunched over his laptop, takes a tentative sip.

"Oh!" He pulls back, surprised. "Now it's too hot! Could you, perhaps, blow on it for me?"

Bitch, please. Am I your mama? Mish's smile freezes for a moment, but she quickly recovers, her tone remaining pleasant. "Of course, anything for our customers."

Meanwhile, Tom had his own problems to deal with. An entitled customer is currently begging for a discount because she claims that "beautiful looking people like her" shouldn't have to pay full price. She waves the pastry in the air, shouting out claims.

"Well? Don't you think I look pretty? Like Beyonce? My friends tell me that all the time."

Tom, stutters, his anxiety rising. "I, um... I mean, I guess...?"

The woman pouts, clearly disappointed by his hesitant response. "Really? So does that mean I can get a discount!"

Mish, standing nearby, rolls her eyes, whispering to herself. "You don't look like Beyoncé, I'm sorry chile. I don't know who told you that to try and get into your panties, but they be lying..."

Honestly, it was a good thing Tom's girlfriend Zendaya stepped in and fixed the situation before things got out of hand.

Meanwhile, pastries fly and flour dusts the air as the bakers work their magic in the kitchen. Britney, Christina, Jess, Mandy, and Shar are in their element, creating delicious treats with efficiency and cheerfulness.

"Ooh, these muffins are looking good!" Christina exclaims, pulling a tray from the oven, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Mandy, her dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, nods in satisfaction. "You know it. Our customers are going to love them."

Shar, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the oven, takes a bite of a pastry, her eyes closing in pleasure. "Mmm, this is heavenly, Jess. You really nailed it!"

Jessica, her face flushed with pride, grins widely. "Aw, thanks Shar! Took only a few hundred times to get the perfect recipe-"

Bang!

The sweet moment in the kitchen was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open. Lizzie storms into the room, her face like thunder. Behind her, a customer hovers, looking distinctly unhappy.

"This cake is salty," Lizzie announces, with all the frustration of a pregnant woman.

Britney's hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh no.”

Jessica gives her a strange look. "What do you mean, oh n, Brit?"

"…I think I mistook salt for sugar..."

Everyone's jaw drops. Especially Jess's, the head baker. "Are you kidding me!?"

Brit's throws her hands up in defense. "Hey! Sugar and salt both look the same, alright?"

"But they don't taste the same!"

Britney shrugs, scratching her blonde hair. "Hey, at least I'm not tasting up all the deserts like Tina—the freaking vacuum."

Christina gapes, hands on hips. "Excuuuuse me?"

Shar, ever the peacemaker, steps forward to the irritated customer, her demeanor calm and collected. "Don't worry, we'll fix it. We have more samples, right?"

Jessica nods, briefly breaking away from the upcoming argument. "Oh, y-yeah."

With a gentle smile, Shar turns to the back kitchen and retrieves another cake sample, presenting it to the customer back out at the front counter with grace.

"Here you go," Shar says, "Our apologies for the mistake."

The customer, their face softening, takes the cake and tastes it with clear satisfaction. "This is much better. Thank you."

"You're welcome! Come back to Le Festin soon!"

Shar waves goodbye to the customer, her smile warm and genuine. As the door closes behind them, she lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing as the bustling cafe atmosphere calms momentarily.

But her peace is short-lived.

A pair of strong hands suddenly cover her eyes, and her heart, which had just slowed, now quickens its pace.

"Guess who?" a deep voice asks, full of playful challenge.

Shar smiles, hearing the familiar voice behind her. "Hmm, let me think. That's a tough one."

"You have two guesses," the voice prompts, his breath warm on her ear.

She giggles, turning her head slightly. "Jacob?"

"Nope," the voice scoffs playfully.

"Michael?"

"Please don't compare me to that nutjob, love," the voice teases, his arms still wrapped around her, fingers lightly brushing her skin as he lightly strokes her sides.

Shar laughs, turning to Hugh as she crosses her arms. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be at the front greeting people."

"I heard your voice and couldn't help but come over," Hugh admits.

"Flatterer," Shar teases, her cheeks flushing.

Hugh leans in, his lips gently brushing her forehead in a tender peck. But their intimate moment is abruptly interrupted by a chorus of "oooohs" from above. They look up to see Mandy, Christina, Britney, and Jess peeking out from the kitchen, spying on the couple secretly.

The pop princesses are snooping, as usual.

Shar's cheeks flush deeper, and she gently pulls Hugh into a corner, away from the prying eyes of her friends.

"Hey, you," she says softly.

"Hey, yourself. I couldn't stay away, especially when I hear your voice." His gaze drops to her lips, his own parting slightly as if he's considering kissing her. "I missed you."

"You just saw me a few minutes ago."

"Didn't stop me from missing you." Hugh's voice deepens, and he moves closer. "You know, I could take my break now. We could—"

Clang!

A loud noise interrupts their intimate moment, and they turn to see Chad dropping a tray of dishes, his eyes glaring an annoyed look at Aaron who had bumped into him after waltzing out of the kitchen for a break.

"Oops," Aaron mutters, giving Chad a sheepish smile.

Chad, frustrated, shakes his head. "Boy, you better clean up this mess, boy! Get ova here'ya!

Shar and Hugh watch as Aaron runs out to avoid cleaning it up, their faces instinctively turning towards each other.

"I have something for you," he says, his voice low and intimate.

Shar raises an eyebrow, a playful smile curving her lips. "Oh, really? What is it?"

With a flourish, Hugh withdraws a small, white box from his pocket and presents it to her with a bow. "Open it."

Intrigued, Shar takes the box, her fingers tracing the smooth edges. She lifts the lid, revealing a rich, decadent chocolate cake within. Her eyes light up as she takes in the sight.

"Aww, Hugh," she breathes, "That's so sweet."

He takes a forkful of the rich, chocolatey cake and gently feeds it to her. The sweet, indulgent flavor explodes on her tongue, and she can't help but close her eyes in enjoyment as she chews. When she opens them again, she finds Hugh watching her, his gaze intense.

"Good?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"So good. I can't believe you brought this here just for me."

"I wanted to do something special," Hugh admits, his thumb lightly wiping chocolate off her cheek. "Since we've been seeing each other for a little while."

Shar's eyes sparkle. "Awww, thank you so much." She starts leaving to get back to work, but pauses. "Hey, did you write your name down on the board? You know, the staff photo board?"

"Hm?"

With a gentle nudge, she points to a board on the wall adorned with photos of all the employees. Names are inscribed below the photos, along with their respective positions and social media handles. It's a fun way for customers to get to know the staff and interact with them online.

Hugh's gaze follows her finger, scanning the board disinterestedly until his eyes land on Shar's photo. It's a beautiful shot, capturing her cute brown eyes and bouncy, chocolate brown hair. His eyes sparkle with a new kind of interest as he notices the social media handles listed below:

Instagram and Twitter.

A sly smile spreads across his face.

The kitchen bustled with activity, the clatter of pans and the whir of the mixer filling the air. Through the swinging door, Shar could be seen taking more orders, her face illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the café windows.

Unbeknownst to her, in the men's bathroom, just a few feet away, Hugh was stalking all of her photos.

Eyes wild, he sat in one of the stalls, his expensive suit a stark contrast to the grimy bathroom. In one hand, he held his phone, scrolling furiously through Shar's Instagram account. He lingered on each post, screen-shotting every single photo and screen recording—

Every. Single. Video.

As he scrolls further and further, his thumb unintentionally likes an old photo. "Shit."

His grimaces, paranoia gripping him. Did she get a notification? Will she think he’s creepy? With a swift motion, he unlikes the very old photo, his heart pounding.

But then, it gets worse.

He spots a post from years ago, where Shar smiling with another guy. Hugh's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Hopefully, he was just a high school friend," he muttered, "Or... dead by now."

Jealousy burns within Hugh as he scrolls through Shar's Instagram account, his thumb hovering over the 'following' tab. With a hesitant tap, he delves into the list of accounts she followed years ago, his eyes scanning for any male celebrities or good looking guys

And damn—there's a lot.

"No," he mutters under his breath, tapping on a guy's profile. "Why him, of all people?"

But his jealous rage only intensifies as he delves deeper into a profile, discovering old heart-eyed emojis from none other than Shar herself. The old comments was the last straw for him, making him slowly lose control.

"Fucking hell," he growls, clenching his phone tightly. "I can't take this."

With a fiery grunt, he slams his phone against the wall, the screen shattering into a spider web of cracks. For a moment, he simply stares at it, his chest heaving.

Then, a sudden calm washes over him, and he rises, fishing his phone from the stall. He calmly tosses his phone into the toilet, looking at it emotionless, and flushes it away.

When Hugh walks out, a freaked out Jacob is standing inside, washing his hands with a surprised emotion.

"Damn, man. You alright? Sounded like you were taking a massive shit in there."

Hugh paused for a moment, his eyes flashing with a mix of emotions. Then, he fakes a smile, pushing away his fury.

"Yeah..."

"Wow, this restaurant is amazing!"

Shar looks around in wonder as they were seated. The sounds of tropical music filled the air, transporting them to a tropical paradise. The walls were painted in vibrant hues of turquoise and orange, adorned with paintings of palm trees and sandy beaches. The bar, adorned with colorful bottles and fresh fruit, attracted patrons seeking refreshing cocktails to complement their meals.

"Welcome to Irie Vibes, mon!" A waiter says. "Mi name is Tamika, and I will be your server tonight. Let me start you off with some refreshing beverages while you peruse de menu, yeah?"

After placing their order, Hugh and Shar relaxed, taking in the vibrant atmosphere.

"I can't believe you chose this place for dinner after work," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I've been wanting to go since forever!"

"I know," Hugh wanted to say out loud. After stalking all of her social media accounts, he saw that she had tweeted about wanting to go to this restaurant #sobadly.

So of course, he had to make her dream come true.

"Wow, what a coincidence!" Hugh says with a grin. He winks. "Guess me and you have the same tastes."

Shar swats his arm, blushing. "Stooop."

As the waiter swung by with their food, Hugh and Shar's table was soon adorned with a feast: grilled meats and stews wafted through the air, making their mouths water in anticipation.

As they began to sample the various dishes, Shar suddenly froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Her gaze had caught on something—or rather, someone—a few tables away.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered, a grin spreading across her face. "Is that Mish? And... hey, her boyfriend?"

Hugh followed her line of sight, his brow furrowing slightly as he spotted the couple. "Huh, what do you know? Small world."

Shar was already waving, catching Mish's attention. The other woman's face lit up with recognition, and she nudged Channing, pointing in their direction.

"Should we invite them over?" Shar asked, turning back to Hugh with hopeful eyes.

Hugh hesitated for a moment, his jaw tightening. He wanted the whole evening just to her…but seeing the excitement on Shar's face, he nodded, forcing a smile.

"Sure, why not? The more, the merrier."

Shar beamed, waving Mish and Channing over. The couple approached, Mish's hips swaying confidently as she walked, Channing following close behind with an easy grin.

"Hey, girl!" Mish exclaimed, pulling Shar into a quick hug. "Tired of the Le Festin food?"

Shar laughed. "Yup—hey, why don't you guys join us? We can make it a double date!"

As Mish and Channing settled into the chairs, Hugh shifted slightly, his posture stiffening just a bit. He nodded at Channing, who returned the gesture.

"Sup, guys," Channing said, his deep voice rumbling as he made himself comfortable.

Mish's eyes suddenly widened as she noticed the dish in front of Shar. "Girl, I know you ain't eating that spicy jerk chicken! You can't handle it! It'll give you a heart attack."

Hugh's head snapped up, alarm flashing in his eyes. He looked from the chicken to Shar, concern etched on his face. "Is it too spicy? Can it kill her? Maybe you shouldn't—"

Shar rolled her eyes, waving off Mish's teasing. "Oh, stop it. You're scaring Hugh."

To prove her point, Shar took a big bite of the chicken, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. Hugh watched her carefully, ready to perform CPR…just in case.

Channing, meanwhile, took a big bite of the stew with scotch bonnet peppers. He took a hefty forkful and popped it into his mouth without so much as a flinch.

Mish's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "Babe! You like that spicy stuff, huh?"

Channing nodded, savoring the flavor before swallowing. "Yeah, that's the shit right there."

Shar blinked in amazement too. "Woah…"

A competitive glint sparked in Hugh's eyes, his brows furrowed in jealousy. He did not like how Shar was paying attention to another man: Hugh was set on keeping up with Channing's spice tolerance, driven by a sudden need to impress Shar too.

"Yeah, I like my spice too," Hugh lies, his voice steady as he scooped up a generous portion of the roti with curry. Without hesitation, he popped it into his mouth, chewing with a confident smile.

The spices hit him like a freight train.

Hugh's eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly reached for his glass of water, his throat already feeling the burn. He began coughing uncontrollably. His eyes watered, and he sped for a napkin, his poor face reddening.

"Babe!" Shar screamed. "Oh ma gosh, are you dying?"

Channing casually took another bite, chewing. "Looks like our Australian mate couldn't handle it, eh?"

If he had a gun, Hugh would've shot him down. But instead, Hugh smiled quietly, taking comfort in Shar's gentle touch.

Dessert soon arrived, a tempting display of sweet treats that had Shar's eyes sparkling with delight. Among the offerings were two particular favorites: coconut drops and rum cake.

"Ooh, this is so good," Shar moaned, taking a bite of the rum cake. The rich, buttery flavor, enhanced by a hint of rum, seemed to melt on her tongue. "Mmm, try some."

She held out a forkful to Hugh, who gladly accepted. As the cake touched his tongue, he was frantically making mental notes on how to bake rum cake, so he could surprise her every week.

Or every day.

Damn, that's good," Hugh mumbles, his eyes never leaving Shar's as she reaches for yet another slice. And another. And another…and another.

Mish looks up from where she's chewing her coconut drops. "Girl, you're gonna get drunk soon ya know? Oh, dis ain't gonna be good…"

Hugh eyes Shar with amusement as she reaches for another slice of rum cake.

"Shar, that's your sixth piece," he observes, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "You okay, love?"

Shar, already a little tipsy from the sweet treat, slurs her response. "This is soooo good. You know, my friends say they loooooove this too.“

Hugh blinks, taken aback. "Uh, are you drunk...?"

But before Shar can answer, the familiar sound of a guitar being tuned reverberates through the room. It's open mic night at the restaurant, and a sweet couple takes the stage.

Shar, fuelled by rum cake and a sudden burst of enthusiasm, stumbles towards the stage. She grabs the mic from the unsuspecting couple, her movements unsteady.

"Thank you so much," she begins, her words slightly slurred. "I'd like to dedicate this song to a special person..."

The room falls silent as Shar, with all the passion of a drunk sailor, launches into a soulful rendition of "A Whole New World."

Hugh, still in his seat, winces as he listens to her drunk tune.

"I can show you the world~" Shar belts out, her eyes closed as she imagines herself

As Shar continues her drunken serenade, her voice wavers and cracks on the high notes. She sways precariously on the stage, microphone clutched tightly in her hand.

"Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?~" Shar belts out, her voice carrying through the restaurant.

Hugh watches from their table, a mix of concern etched on his face. He glances at Mish and Channing, who are looking at her in bewilderment.

"Okay, I think it's time we called it a night," Hugh mutters, throwing a couple dollar bills on the table

He strides towards the stage, Hugh reaches her, gently but firmly grasping her arm.

"Alright, love. Time to go back home," he says, loud enough for her to hear over her own singing.

Shar blinks at him, confusion clouding her rum-soaked mind. "But... but I'm not finished!"

"Oh, I think you are," Hugh replies.

In one swift move, he throws her over his shoulder and heads out the restaurant, into the cool autumn night.

Shar fell into a drunken asleep…

Thank goodness.

Or else, if she was awake, she'd know that he knew the exact route to her house. Now, he can just lie and say that he asked someone for her address, her shining (and respectful) knight in armor.

"Yes…yeah, that's what I'll say once I drop her off."

As he pulls up outside Shar's house, Hugh's heart sinks. The place is dark and quiet, clearly indicating that no one is home. He curses under his breath, debating his next move.

Waking her up seemed impossible now; she was out cold and wouldn't budge.

A surge of protectiveness washes over him, and he knows he can't just leave her alone in this state. With a sigh, he makes a decision.

"My place it is, princess."

He adjusts her gently in his arms, taking care not to wake her. Her head lolls against his shoulder, her breathing soft and even. He takes a moment to admire her peaceful expression, his gaze softening despite the challenging situation.

Wow…she's so pretty.

As Hugh approaches his house, the porch light shines brightly, casting an inviting glow over the cozy space. The windows are illuminated, revealing a glimpse of the warm interior.

Ava and Oscar, still in their pajamas, burst through the front door, their eyes shining with excitement.

"Daddy!" they cry in unison, running towards Hugh.

He smiles, his face softening as he takes in the sight of his children. "What are you two still doing up? Didn't your babysitter tuck you in?"

Oscar, the older one, pipes up. "We wanna wait for you, Daddy. We miss you."

Ava claps, giggling.

"Aw, sweethearts," Hugh murmurs, his heart melting a little. "But it's past your bedtime, isn't it?"

Oscar nods, her curly hair bouncing around her face. "Yeah, but we wanna see daddy. And…mommy?"

Hugh's smile falters slightly as he realizes Oscar's talking about Shar. "Oh, she's just Sleeping Beauty. Daddy needs to make sure she gets her beauty sleep."

"Sleeping beauty?" Oscar's curiosity is piqued, his eyes widening at the prospect of a fairy tale come to life.

"Yeah," Hugh replies, careful to keep his tone light. "I found her sleeping at the restaurant, and I didn't want to leave her there alone, so I brought her back here. Now, off you go to bed. No more questions."

With a final glance at the mysterious lady in their father's arms, the children reluctantly comply. They know better than to argue when their father talks strict.

"Night, Daddy," they chorus, turning to head back inside.

"Goodnight, my loves," Hugh calls after them, his eyes trained on their retreating figures. Once they disappear inside, he exhales a deep breath, as if the air had been knocked out of him.

With a soft sigh of relief, he shifts Shar's weight in his arms and heads inside, careful not to wake her. He climbs the stairs quietly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. At last, he reaches the guest bedroom. Gently, he lays Shar down on the bed, smoothing her hair away from her pretty face…then—

Thud!

Then he hears a loud noise.

His heart stutters as he watches the phone tumble from Shar's pocket, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

He freezes, his gaze darting to the sleeping figure on the bed. Thankfully, Shar doesn't stir, her breathing remaining steady. With a swift move, he bends down, scooping up the phone.

He smiles softly as he recognizes the wallpaper: it's a picture of her baby sister, her eyes shining with mischief as she makes a silly face for the camera. A warm feeling spreads in his chest as he unlocks the phone.

He'd seen her enter the passcode tons of times, just like he knew all of her commonly used passwords by glancing over her shoulder.

"Let's see what we have here," he murmurs, his thumb scrolling through the apps. "Gotta check in to see if my baby's doing alright."

He starts with her camera roll, his lips twitching with amusement as he scrolls through countless selfies and random snapshots of daily life. There are photos of her family, her friends, and—of course—pics of Le Festin.

Next, he goes to her notes app and checks her Google Calendar, making a mental note of her upcoming dentist appointment and the girls' night out she has planned with her friends.

"Good thing I know now," he mutters, envisioning himself reminding her of these important dates.

What a thoughtful boyfriend I would be.

His thumb hovers over the messaging app, his curiosity getting the better of him. With a faint frown, he opens her recent messages, texts filled with familiar names of her co-workers—and that's when he sees it.

A message from a number he doesn't recognize.

His brow furrows as he reads the words, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Who the hell is this?" he mutters, his thumb scrolling furiously through the thread.

The unknown number had sent a flirty message, accompanied by a winking emoji.

Jealousy flashes through him like an electric current, his eyes widening as he continues to read.

"You little—"

He stops himself, seeing that it was actually a mistake. "Oh sorry, wrong number," the person had said afterwards. Shar responded with a thumbs up emoji and that's all.

Still—that wasn't good.

He can't have his innocent, precious baby be texted by these random, perverted men. No, no, he can't have that at all. It's his duty to protect Shar, and that's exactly what he's gonna do now.

It was a swift decision.

Moment later, the spy app was already installed for both their phones and hidden from view. Hugh hastily types in his email and password before exiting the app.

Perfect. Now, anytime, anywhere, he'll get notified if she's texting some other man...or woman.

With a final glance at the sleeping beauty, Hugh leans down and presses a soft kiss to her cheek, whispering, "Goodnight, my sweet girl."

He carefully tucks her in, his fingers smoothing out the covers and ensuring she was comfortable. Then, he lowers himself onto the bed, his body sinking into the mattress beside her.

Staring.

Watching every single breath she takes.

Bzz Bzz.

His phone vibrates on the bedside table, breaking the silence. His eyes dart to the screen, where he sees a notification from the spy app. With a swift intake of breath, he unlocks his phone, eyes widening at the familiar name on the screen:

Aaron.

Shar, there's something you should know about the guy you're seeing...meet me at the back of Le Festin tomorrow before it opens.

It's rlly important.

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shadowqueenjude · 1 year ago

Text

Nesta destroyed the IC part 10

Eris was playing piano when Nesta arrived.

She had no idea he could play, but it didn’t surprise Nesta in the least. He seemed like the type; he was very-versed in all things courtly; politics, dancing, fighting- the man could do it all. He also had very beautiful hands with long fingers perfect for playing an instrument. Nesta would never admit that to him though. He was arrogant enough as it was.

She knew without saying anything that Eris was perfectly aware of her presence. She was pretty sure nothing escaped the male’s notice when he’s grown up in a court like his father’s his whole life. So, she simply walked on over to Eris as he was playing, mesmerized by the flawless flow of his fingers across the board, of the beautiful sounds it produced. Simply everything this man did was done immaculately, stylishly. It turned her on yet irked her to no end.

After a few minutes of Eris calmly playing, he paused and turned towards her. His trademark smirk was on his face. “Are you going to talk, or are you just going to ogle me all day, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta snorted. “Dream on, Eris Vanserra. I’d sooner sully myself to Illyrian vermin.”

Eris clucked his tongue. “After that disaster with the mongrel bastard? How disappointing.”

Nesta stiffened slightly at that. “I still feel the absence of the bond; despite rejecting it. And the pain of him dying,” she admitted.

Eris sighed. “I imagine you’ll feel it for quite some time longer, as well. It’s something that may never leave you. You can only learn to live with it.”

Nesta scowled. “That can’t possibly be true.”

“It has been that way for me.”

Nesta blinked. “You have a mate who rejected you?”

Eris laughed softly, sensually. “Yes.”

“Who?” The question was out before Nesta could stop herself. She couldn’t help it, the curiosity, and maybe something more.

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?”

Nesta bared her teeth at him. Stalked over to him and put one hand on the piano on either side of him. Let that silvery rage rise from its depths. “You’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”

Eris’s eyes swept over her, taking in every inch of her. Nesta felt her blood heat with the careful attention, how it lingered on every curve. “Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

Eris smiled at her, a smile full of charm and wicked delight. The smile he had seen when he watched her with Rhysand’s head in her hands. A man who embraced every part of her, desired every part of her, even her darkest parts. Especially those.

The man was flawless. Perfect jawline, with a sharp nose and full sensual lips, and amber eyes that were just a little bit feral. And his sculpted body was a reminder that though his strength lay in courtly affairs, he was still a warrior. The general of the Autumn Court armies. And if he played his cards right, a future High Lord.

He lifted one flawless hand and brushed his fingers down her arm. It was a light touch, but goosebumps trailed in its wake. He leaned forward until their lips were just a breath away. “I’ll give you a hint, Nesta Archeron. You already know her.”

Nesta stared at him. She didn’t know very many people; it was obviously not Feyre, who had been mated to Rhysand, or herself who had been mated to Cassian. Nor was it Elain, who was mated to Lucien. Gwyn and Emerie simply didn’t seem plausible. Her best guess was somebody else. Then she remembered- the infamous story of Eris leaving Mor to rot on the Autumn Court border, and Eris’s implication that he had done it to spare her, that he never would’ve touched her. And she remembered that during his alliance with the Night Court he had had dealings with Keir, her father, and bought Mor time to deal with him. The only male who had any sort of real sway over him. “Is it Mor?” she whispered, her breath brushing his.

“Indeed. Smart girl,” he whispered back.

“I don’t understand. If she was your mate, why was she so desperate to get out of the engagement?”

“Because it was not her choice. Because she heard of many horrible things about me and did not want to be associated with it. Because however hard Mor tries to hide it, she prefers women.”

Nesta blinked. “But she had sex with Cassian; she had sex with Helion-“

“The first was a means to an end for her. As for the second…well Mor is still attracted to men, to some extent. But mostly women. I imagine you and I are the only ones in the world who know.”

“Wow, I feel really special,” Nesta said. Eris chuckled. “Good. Because you are.”

Though Nesta’s statement had been entirely sarcastic, Eris’s was not. It was genuine praise, and Nesta wasn’t sure how to handle it. Her instinct was to deflect it, to deny it until her last breath. No, she wasn’t special, she was ordinary, cowardly, bitchy. But somehow, she wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that somebody knew her and thought the world of her.

“Do you really think so?” she whispered. They were still in that impasse, their lips just centimeters apart, the tension palpable in the room.

Eris replied, “Nesta Kingslaying Archeron, you are as brilliant and glorious as the moon, and I am but the tidal waves that desperately reach for your loving hands.”

Nesta blinked. “I-what?”

She was speechless. She could think of no adequate reply to the elaborate praise he had just given her. So, there was nothing else to do but close the difference between them and kiss him hard.

Elain’s POV

Feyre was getting better.

It was a slow process, and Elain knew it would take a lot more time for her to fully recover, but… she was healing.

She had taken Parikshit out of Elain’s hands, insisting that since he was her child, she ought to be the one looking after her. Elain had been delighted to see a spark of that old fire in her, so similar to Nesta’s. And Nuala and Cerridwen had assured her that Feyre was doing a great job with her child. Elain had felt guilty setting the twins on Feyre like she was spying on her, but she had just wanted to ensure that Parikshit was getting the care that he needed. After a few days, Elain had taken the twins off of the job.

She had made the twins the newest spymasters, replacing the gap left by Azriel. As for the general of the Night Court armies, she had chosen Balthazar. He was strong and smart, with a respect for women that was rare amongst Illyrians. For the courtly overseer role left by Mor, Elain had chosen one of the Valkyries: Dierdre. Though Dierdre had demonstrated her excellent way with words, Elain had been hesitant to give her the role at first, given the effort it took her just to come out of the library, but Dierdre had steeled herself and said she was ready. And Elain had felt the truth in her words.

They weren’t perfect choices, but Elain was doing the best she could. She was not God; she couldn’t be everywhere at once. Once Feyre decided to start ruling this place again, she could choose whether or not to keep Elain’s nominations. Elain sighed as she retired to her room, spent. It had been another busy day, and Elain hardly had time to herself anymore. This role was certainly not for the faint-hearted. Elain was happy to do it, but she wished she wasn’t alone. That she had somebody by her side to help her, support her, rule with. She wished she was in a court with a little more color and brightness.

Her mind drifted to her mate. She wondered what he was doing at this time. Was he with his human companions, or was he wandering about the courts? She knew he had ties to every court in Prythian, that he had been sought after by many courts for his talent with people. He visited the Night Court every now and then, to check on Feyre and Elain and give regular updates about the other courts, and Elain found herself wishing he’d stay a little bit longer.

His flaming red hair, so different from the varying shades of dark brown hair that existed in the Night Court, and his wicked scar, a rare phenomenon on beings that healed so rapidly, set him apart from everyone else. He always dressed to kill, though with his cruel beauty he’d look good in rags. Though her human heart rebelled against the mating bond, she couldn’t control it- the urge to be near him, to be with him. Like he was the answer to all her prayers.

He had been so good to her in the human lands while they were on the run from the Night Court. So good to her that day when she was still hollow but spoke to him briefly in the library. Even as she could feel his raging instincts, the desire to take her and claim her as his own. His restraint was incredible, but even so, she had noticed: noticed how he had clenched his cup when she had said his name, how he sometimes gripped chairs to control his mated rage, how he looked at her with pain and longing. It was too much to bear. She shrunk away from it, afraid of the feelings, afraid of her own feelings, that she was drawn to it, to him. Such a gentleman, yet she could feel his desires; such thoughts were not gentlemanly at all. But lately, she found herself more and more wishing he’d just…lose control. Just a little bit. Every time he bowed, called her “My lady,” and pressed a sensual kiss to the back of her hand while meeting her eyes, she had half a thought to call him back. But words failed her every time.

And then she cursed herself for wanting it so badly. Special thanks to the person who reblogged my Eris post and suggested that Eris and Mor may be rejected mates; I thought it would be interesting to explore if Nesta rejected her mate (Cassian) and Eris was a rejected mate (Mor) and how they would fit together. Also thank you to @acourtofthought for your analysis of Elain's feelings about the mating bond, I drew inspiration from that for my Elain POV.

#pro lucien vanserra #pro eris vanserra #pro nesta archeron #pro elain archeron #elucien #neris #fanfic

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