#she is so brave and has been running around the room purring and playing with my leg

[nabsthevulture]

😭😭😭😭😭😭

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Amaryllis

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary:(Modern AU) Benedict surprises you after the final performance of your debut play. Congratulations are in order and he has some ideas on how you can take your final bow.

Warnings: 18 + Please, Rough Sex, Oral, Praise Kink, Adult Language and Concepts

Word Count: 3.2K

Author’s Note: Thank you to my wonderful mutuals @bridgertontess and @colettebronte for helping me piece this all together. You two are rock stars!

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You would never tire of this feeling. The electricity that coursed throughout your body and lit you up from the inside out was more addicting than any drug you’ve gotten your hands on thus far. Public performance was the ultimate exercise in risk and reward. The risk - exposure to ridicule. The reward - praise beyond measure.

As you made your way backstage to your dressing room for the final time, you bathed in the applause still ringing in your ears. The six week run of your debut play had finally come to a close and you planned to absorb every last drop of euphoria. This could be your last chance to experience it, work was never promised.

Opening the door to your private space, you came face to face with the only thing more intoxicating than the current high you were riding - Benedict Bridgerton. He was mouth watering, clad in black from head to toe. The knit material of his sweater clung to his broad shoulders for dear life, perfectly accentuating the strength that lay hidden beneath. His slow, seductive smile sent your pulse thrumming in your ears as he stood to greet you.

“There she is,” he purred. 

“Ben,” your voice was embarrassingly breathy. “You came… I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. When did you get back in town?”

Leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek, he whispered, “Of course I came. I wouldn’t miss your final bow. I caught a flight from London this morning.”

You could barely contain the shiver that rolled over your body at his proximity. This man was a unique form of danger. Staggering good looks aside, he had a singular ability to mute your inhibitions. When you were with him, you always found yourself operating on the base instincts of pure desire. His influence was boundaryless. Whether that desire was to indulge a midnight craving for chocolate cake, or to have his head squeezed between your thighs in the bathroom at your friend’s house warming party, he was always your Yes Man, rarely allowing you to deny yourself the things that would bring you pleasure.

Telling yourself yes more often was changing you. You had discovered an exhilarating braveness that could easily be traced back to a handsome stranger at an art gallery three months ago.

Three months! Had it really only been that long? He already felt so familiar, essential even. Yet, you had no real ties to one another. He was nomadic and free, breezing in and out of your life regularly. But somehow, he always seemed to find you in moments that mattered - moments that had you standing on the precipice of something big. He never pushed or manipulated, he simply just observed you with a level of wonder in his eyes that fueled your ego. His expectant gaze seductively stroked your confidence in a way that was only rivaled by how his fingers stroked… other parts of you. He was unapologetically himself, and when in his presence, you seemed to silently grant yourself permission to do the same. Eventually, you learned to do that even when he wasn’t around. That’s how you ended up on the stage tonight. You told yourself yes, believed you could do it, and tried. Imagine that, actually making an attempt at something gets you a lot closer than standing still. Who would have guessed?

Looking up into his gorgeous face, you smiled shamelessly. “Remind me to thank your manager for always scheduling your art shows with impeccable timing. How long will you be in town?”

His eyes scanned over you with a hunger that made your mouth go dry. “Just for tonight…”

Disappointment started to bloom in your chest until the meaning of his words took root. “Wait, you flew all the way from London just for this? Ben, that’s crazy. Why would you do that?”

He shrugged, effectively dismissing your concern. “Because I wanted to. Because I can. And because,” he lifted a fragrant bouquet into your eye line, “I had to bring you these.”

You recognized the deep red petals immediately. You had seen their likeness scattered through many of his paintings. “Thank you, Ben. They’re beautiful. Now I understand why you paint them so often. What are they?”

“They’re called Amaryllis,” he smirked. “For artists, they’re said to stimulate the creative muse and celebrate your hard won success. Since you are now both an artist, and a muse, I thought it only fitting.”

Heat pooled in your stomach at his words. “I’d hardly call myself an artist. It was one play.”

“I strongly disagree,” he protested. “Art affects the viewer, and watching you wield your craft up there tonight… Well, it certainly moved me.”

His thinly veiled innuendo was driven home by the downright wicked smile that spread across his face. You had no choice but to join him in his debauchery.

Placing the flowers on the vanity table, you stepped in closer to him. His chest was broad and tempting, begging to be touched. Your palms splayed out over the defined pectoral muscles in front of you and you sighed with satisfaction. The heat from his skin was radiating through the knit material of his black sweater and soaking into your fingertips. Through batted lashes you asked, “Do you like watching me, Benedict?”

Voice husky, he replied, “Like is a bit of an understatement. You’re very… titillating.”

The giggles escaped before you could stop them. “Titillating - is that so? What was your favorite part?”

The playful way his eyebrow quirked made your legs weak. “Do you want the serious answer or the fun answer?”

You wanted to keep playing but you were curious. “Why not both? I’m feeling greedy.”

His pupils expanded slightly on your last word. “Noted. And I am feeling eager to please.” 

You were definitely going to be in trouble when the talking stopped. “My favorite part is seeing how much you’ve improved over the weeks. You found your stride. You looked comfortable - confident. I got lost in you.”

“You could tell all that by seeing one show? Was it that obvious that I was going to be terrible starting out?”

He smiled sheepishly. “This was actually my third time.”

“You’ve seen this three times and never said anything?” 

Again, he shrugged. “I wanted to watch anonymously. I wanted to see you in your element without the added pressure. Normally, I love the fact that I make you nervous. You get all flushed and twitchy. But for this, I wanted the raw version of you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered that you came or creeped out that I had a stalker.”

“Why not both,” he smirked.

“Speaking of,” you reminded him. “What’s the fun answer?”

He stepped closer, pushing the back of your legs against the vanity table. “I liked watching you seduce that poor bastard that played opposite you. He’ll be thinking about  the way your body moves for months after that performance.”

Pushing your chest into his, you asked, “You liked the way my body pressed against him like this?”

“Mmhmm,” he sighed.

“What else did you like, Ben?”

“I loved the obscene amount of attraction. You could almost smell it. He’s beautiful, you’re beautiful. I wanted to see more. I wanted a better view of your mouth devouring him. I wanted to be close enough to hear the exertion in your breaths. I was jealous of the pleasure on his face when you slid your tongue up his neck. You’re fucking lethal with that thing.”

“You liked seeing me with another man in my mouth?”

“So much,” he whispered against your neck before lightly biting your skin. “What’s it feel like?”

You gasped at the feel of his teeth. It was getting harder to hold a conversation. “What, to have someone watching?”

“No,” he chuckled. With your chests still firmly pressed together you could feel the vibration of his laughter clear to your toes. “I know what that feels like. What does it feel like to kiss a man? Describe it to me.”

Tilting your head back, you searched his face. His expression was how it always was - curious. As if he were thinking of trying it himself but wanted to know your experience first.

“It’s… it’s thrilling. I’m sure it depends on the man, but the best kisses… You feel held, secure. Like you’re leaning against an immovable force. You can feel the power in their bodies humming against your senses. But even though you know that power and strength is there, you can feel them restraining it for you. You can feel them considering you. I don’t know about other women, but that unleashes something in me. It makes me feel like they’re lending me some of that power. Like I’m absorbing it through my lips. Their restraint makes me feel like I don’t have to have any of my own. I don’t have to be soft all the time because I know they can handle it. But I think my favorite part is when they give in a little on that self control. The sounds they make are deep and primal. The force they use mixes pain with pleasure. The way they smell, the way they taste. The way your mouth feels swollen and bruised when it’s over. The scratches on your skin from stubble.”

You took one of his hands in yours and started to play with his fingers. “And sometimes the sheer size of them is exhilarating. The right man can make you feel empowered and overpowered all at once.”

His pupils were blown wide as he hung on your every word. You could hear his breathing getting heavier. The hard, steely length of him pressed into your thigh was enough to flood you.

You dropped your hand between you to cup him. “Is this for the man you’re thinking of, or is it me?”

There was a sharp intake of breath when your fingers curled a little tighter over the fabric of his pants. Without missing a beat, he tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned down for his confession. “Why not both?”

A myriad of images flashed through your brain. What kind of man would he choose? Your daydream must have been written on your face because when you met his gaze again his eyes had darkened to the point of no return. “Does that arouse you, y/n? Does the thought of me with a man get you wet and needy?” His hand reached under the hem of your dress and started to delicately trace up the inside of your thigh. Long, graceful fingers curled into the front of your panties and found you just as he suspected.

“Mmm,” he hummed in appreciation. “That’s a definite yes. I’ll keep that in mind for future fun, but right now it’s just you and me. And that’s more than fucking enough.”

His fingers started to glide through your wetness, collecting your arousal and bringing it up to rub circles around your pulsing clit. You clutched his forearms for purchase, riding his hand to within an inch of climax, but you stopped yourself. Not yet. 

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you pulled him from your body and dropped to your knees in front of him. You needed to feel him in your throat, to taste the saltiness of his skin. You needed to feel his hands tangled roughly in your hair, holding you down on himself until you were gasping for air.

He looked down at you with adoring admiration as you began unbuttoning his pants to set him free. He left you to your work, only moving to step out of his pants as they hit the ground. His body was fucking perfect and you were dying to get your hands on him.

He hissed in pleasure when your thumb swept over his tip, collecting the small bead of arousal and bringing it to your mouth to suck it off. God, you missed that taste. It was enough to send a fresh wave of desire dripping between your thighs. 

Standing on your knees a little taller, you hovered over him, letting your saliva drip down to coat him before you took him into your hand. “Fucking hell,” he exclaimed, throwing his head back.

Your lips turned up in triumph. This was always your favorite part. Sure, letting him coax your body into ecstasy was amazing, but this… Watching the effect you had on him. It was a power trip. 

Breaking his gaze, you closed your eyes and took him into your mouth. There really was nothing like the taste of him. You wanted more. Taking him deeper, the smooth skin of his cock glided effortlessly between your lips. You were moaning around him, enjoying every second of contact.

You only stopped your descent when you felt his fingers under your chin directing your focus back to his face. “You look so pretty on your knees for me. And you fucking love it, don’t you?” He growled at your garbled response. “That’s what I thought. Even with your mouth full you’re looking at me like you’re starving.”

Even though you were bowed in front of him, it was you who felt worshiped. His affirmations spurred you on, inciting a desperate need to please him. Relaxing into it, you slid down the rest of his length until he was resting securely at the back of your throat. But this time you never took your eyes off of his. He wanted you to watch him watch you.

You took a deep breath before you started again. Both of your hands grasped the backs of his muscular thighs for balance in an effort to support your enthusiastic movements. Your tongue stroked him mercilessly with each bob of your head leaving both of you a sloppy, wet mess. You willed yourself to hold on as long as possible when he hit the back of your throat again. Gagging around him, you nuzzled your nose into the dark hair surrounding his perfect cock. 

You felt the expanse of his large hand cup the back of your head, pushing himself in even deeper. “Sh-shit,” he stuttered. “How are you so good at that? Don’t stop.”

Your nipples pebbled at the sound of his moans and you were suddenly aware of how cage-like your dress felt. There was too much separating your skin from his.

Letting go of his leg, you brought a hand down to play with yourself beneath your dress. You were almost painfully aroused, and were desperate for even the smallest sense of relief. 

Benedict’s eyes tracked your movements hungrily but your concealment tortured him. Before you knew what was happening, you felt yourself being hoisted from the ground and crushed in a dizzying kiss. Nimble fingers made quick work of the zipper at your back, and in seconds you were standing there in nothing but your black lace panties.

His lips kissed roughly across your throat and down your sternum before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. The sensation was unreal, and you arched into him needing more. 

With a firm grip on your hips, he spun you around and bent you over the vanity, placing your palms flat against the cool, wood surface for purchase. Your arms shook with anticipation when you caught his gaze in the mirror.

His mouth caressed down your spine, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You lost sight of him when he dipped below your waist but you could feel him there. The heat from his breath lingered on your skin. A gentle nudge on the inside of your knee hinted at his next request.

“Open your legs a little wider for me, darling.” You obeyed him immediately and he handed out his approval generously. “That’s my good girl. Always does what she’s told.”

The tone of his voice had your pussy clenching with need. His body read yours fluently and he was already moving to satisfy you. His thumbs hooked into the material of your underwear and rolled them down your legs.

You went to step free from them but he tutted his disapproval. “No, no, no baby. Leave those around your ankles.”

Again, you followed orders and waited for his next command.

His lips kissed each rounded cheek before two strong hands spread you open to him. “Fuck, look at you. So gorgeous and ready. You smell like heaven.” With one obscene motion, he licked from your pulsing entrance all the way up between your parted cheeks to place another soft kiss at the base of your spine. “You taste even better.”

Your legs were starting to get weak. “Benedict, please…”

“What do you want, y/n? Do you want my tongue? My fingers?” His thumb pushed slightly past the threshold of your aching heat but then stopped. “Or is there something else you want more?”

Every option presented was enticing but you knew what you needed. “I feel empty, Ben. I need you inside me.”

“Is this what you want?” You felt the tip of his cock align with your drenched opening. You moaned your approval but it wasn’t enough. “Yes or no? Say it.”

“Yes,” you pleaded. 

He pushed into you torturously slowly, groaning when you had taken all of him. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. You feel so good. Nice and wet for me, as always.”

“Benedict,” you whimpered.

You could hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “How do you want it?”

“Fuck me, Ben. Make it hurt.”

He pulled out of you before slamming back in with so much force that it lifted you to the tips of your toes.You screamed out in ecstasy. “You like that? Is that how you need me today?”

“Faster, Ben. Don’t stop.”

Your command unleashed him.One hand braced your shoulder while the other dug into your hip. His thrusts were hard and deep, moving at a pace that made it hard for you to catch your breath.

Your arms finally gave out and you let him ease your face to the vanity. His hand left your shoulder to wind your hair around his wrist. The cup of makeup brushes was knocked to the floor, scattering them at your feet. Your knuckles turned white as you clutched the edge of the table for dear life. 

Something was building inside you. Something bigger than you, and slightly terrifying. There was no stopping it. You were hurtling toward an oblivion that was outside of your control.

You tipped over the edge when his teeth nipped into the skin at your shoulder. You tried to scream but there was no air. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t hear. You didn’t exist inside your flesh any longer.

“Oohhhh,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Shiiiit!”

You felt the material of his sweater on your bare back when he collapsed on top of you. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was still wearing it until now. 

He went to lift himself but you stopped him. “Don’t move yet. You feel so good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed. “If I had it my way, I’d be inside you until I got on the plane tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we’d make it through security like this,” you joked.

“Worst case scenario, we get detained and I have to stay a bit longer.”

“Tempting,” you quipped.

“Yes…” his lips brushed against your neck. “... you are.”

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@faye-tale @queenofmean14 @eleanor-bradstreet @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys​

[tollingbells77]

It's been a while since I've made a proper update on my brat children, more under the cut:

Michael Plasma is a VERY big strong boy now. He is no longer a runt in ANY capacity and he regularly keeps up and wins against his bigger brother, Liquid Mastema. He's pretty adventurous and brave, but he still occasionally loses it (as most cats do). He loves running around the room and playing with toys and his siblings, having grown out of his grumpy-to-not-be-an-only-child phase, but we've tried taking him outside on a lead and he HATES the outdoors. Firmly a inside cat. His favorite toys are the crinkly lizards and the springs, which he carries to a spot to gnaw on. His socks are incredibly wonky and he might end up with some white spots in his coat, as random white hairs keep happening.

Liquid Mastema doesn't quite live up to his name, because he is a BIG, chunky lad who is going to be a huge cat. He already was the biggest when we found him, and even though the others are catching up the females are never going to be as big as he is. He's not stupid but he can be oblivious sometimes- he has a understanding of the world and then the understanding falls apart(stepping through a piece of weakened cardboard, for instance) and he looks at me with confusion, before continuing on without a care. While he is rough with his siblings, he's become really gentle with humans and loves giving leg hugs and sitting on your leg for attention. He starts purring as soon as he's given any sort of attention, even something as simple as me brushing his side as I move past him. He's also the most afraid of strangers, and will hide the longest when we introduce new people. His favorite toys are tiny red fuzzy balls he ripped off some rattle toys, and he carries them around and drops them in my lap so I'll throw them. Has to be the red ones though, he doesn't like the other ones.

Solid Remiel is very much the twin of her brother Mast, in that they tended to be the chaos causers. He's relaxed a bit but she's still going at 900%, always ready to attack a new toy (moms hair tie or cellphone strap), or run around the room, or slam into and attack her siblings. She's also his twin in that she adores attention from humans, but she's has the ability to stop herself from fighting with the other kittens, unlike Mast. She's going to be a terror to every bug and pest that passes our threshold, as it's very clear that she was born to hunt and she's already killed the most bugs that have gotten into their room. She likes to shoot past me when I open the door in the morning, but she willingly lets me pick her up and take her back so she can get breakfast. She's usually the first to try things, and is incredibly spirited, shaking off stuff that scares the others quickly. She likes any toy she can cart off, but doesn't seem to have a distinct favorite, and relishes in stealing her brothers favorites from them.

[irlcats-bracket]

Bracket 5 Round 1 Poll 12

Chloe vs Blackie

CHLOE

overweight dilute tortie. also the sweetest and softest girl in the whole wide world. sits on submitter's chest and suffocates them sometimes while they're trying to sleep. also she loves them very much and bites out of affection

BLACKIE

This is Blackie, submitter's little one-eyed wonder. He lost his eye to glaucoma quite a few years ago, but he's doing a lot better now, and still likes to play with his sister, Artemis. His name is Blackie because that's what the shelter named him and submitter's family couldn't agree on a new name for him so it stuck, but submitter themselves call him 'Big Boi' because of just how massive he is. He was once very timid, but with time and love and patience he is now a certified lap cat who will come right up to strangers to demand pets. He has a wonderful squeaky meow and when he purrs it sounds like two cats purring at once. He likes to have people watch him eat and he will guide submitter's mom over to the couch and make her lay down just so he can sleep in her lap. Also, when he lays on his back, he covers his belly with his tail. Pictured is him in his signature polite boi sitting pose

CATPAGANDA (for both. it's.. long on both sides)

CHLOE

she’s got a weird build, she’s pretty fat but has a small frame and a weirdly small head her eyes are massive

her favorite activity is (as was stated) sitting on my chest when I’m in bed. i am the only person in my family who she loves this much, and she spends most of her time in my room

she purrs very very loudly and often

since she’s massive, we’ve been trying to exercise her by taking her out in the backyard on a cat leash. it hasn’t worked very well

she has a very sweet little meow that i will try to capture and post when the poll is up when i’m at my desk she either sits on my lap and slowly forces me off the chair or meows and waits until i go lie in bed. because she wants to sit on my chest

she has honed to perfection the skill of keeping me up at night because she’s bored

she likes belly rubs

If she starts licking you and you let her for a few seconds, she will bite you. every time. she doesn’t break the skin ever and i think it’s a show of affection

she basically lived in the basement for the first few years of her life and would crawl around in the ceiling down there

when she’s lying in what i call her potato position, there is no clear line between her head, neck, and body, like a guinea pig

i love her very much

BLACKIE

Blackie is our older cat and is such a gentleman. He is eager to love, he does the quickest slow blinks I've ever seen from a cat. He has a two-layered purr, it literally sounds like a cat purring as popcorn is being made in the background. He lost his eye to glaucoma when he was younger but he runs around and plays and teases his sister Artemis like a kitten. And his eyebrow whiskers grew down over his missing eye! He's not a big fan of people food but he has a fondness for pizza crumbs (NOT the crust. Just the crumbs off the plate when you're done eating the pizza). He walks like he's gingerly stepping through flowers and he's so gentle that the one time I overstimulated him and he wanted to bite me, he just shoved his closed mouth against my hand. He has a super long tongue and if you scratch the right spot between his shoulder blades he will lick the air. He's my precious boy who started out so scared but he's so brave and social and happy now just typing this out makes me wanna cry and go give him scritchies.

[lovelyghostlyharmony]

how to train your dragon: how you met your dragon

Skrill-

Why did you do this? Are you insane? Just because you really want to train a dragon doesn't mean you let yourself be captured by Berserkers! You idiot! Well, to be fair, you did fly on one - for about a few minutes - then you fell and the Gronckle left you on the spooky island. And why you may ask? Because you didn't create a bond with it! And it was scared! It was a Gronckle! As you were pacing in your cell and waiting for Daggur to show up, a man suddenly broke into the hall. "We need you two outside! Some Whispering Deaths escaped!" And just like that, your guards disappeared.  Well, now you can escape - you only need to figure out how. You looked at the bars, trying to find a weak spot or something, but you didn't find anything. Ugh, if only you had a key!  You defeatedly sat down next to the bars, resting your back against the cold rocky wall. Are you going to die? Are you about to be slaughtered? Pf, you went to find a dragon and now you are going to be its food! This is surely your lucky day. You were just about to rest your head against the bars when you realized, that uncomfortable rocky wall wasn't upright. A little bit of the lower part was missing, making a distance between the wall and one of the metal bars big enough for you to crawl through. That's it! You can escape! You took your chance and began to run. You didn't remember where was the exit, so you just carefully followed your instincts. The very first thirty seconds went great, but then one guard spotted you. Oh no! You ran in a different direction and hide in a room. It was a really weird room, really. There were keys everywhere! Fortunately, the guard didn't think about checking the room, so you were safe... for now.

You looked around, admiring the key room. Well, it saved your life, after all. And apparently, it really liked you, because you spotted another door! You opened it and found dragon cages! There were no guards - they were probably still fighting Whispering Deaths - but there were lots of other dragons. Few Monstrous Nightmares, Deadly Nadders, Gronckles, and at the very back of the room a Skrill. Yes. A Skrill! And not just any Skrill. It was the one that met Hiccup and Toothless. You were in shock at seeing it. Didn't Hiccup set it free? Why is it here? The Skrill is intelligent enough not to be caught! You curiously went to its cage and found out the Skrill was kept in a little pool of water, so it couldn't shoot the lightning. "You poor thing," you said, but the Skrill growled. He looked frightened and hide in the corner, so the only thing you could see were spikes on his head and dark purple color. You badly wanted to touch it, but you knew that it would hurt you. "I will get you out of there!" You run back to the key room and checked all the keys. All of them were marked - and one of them had Skrill word written all over it. "Yes!" you said to yourself. But that was when the guard finally found you. "There you are!" he hissed and went after you. You reacted quickly and run towards the Skrill. He wasn't happy to see you, but when you tried to open his cage, he came out of the darkness and exposed his teeth.  "It's okay. I want to help you," you whispered, but that was the time when the guard caught you. "No!" you yelled and tried to fight back but it was no use. The guard was stronger. You looked back at Skrill, finding him looking back. He wasn't exposing his sharp teeth anymore. He looked as if he was thinking. 'Well, hopefully, he is intelligent enough to see, that I am not his enemy,' you thought. 'Or else, I'll be dead.'  Just as the guard finally realized you're not fighting anymore, he loosed his grip. But that was a bad move for him because you easily slipped out. "Hey!" he roared surprised. But it was too late. You opened the Skrill's cage. You didn't know if you should have been scared or happy, but either way, it was your only chance. He was your only chance.

And he knew that!

That's why he quickly flew out of his pen, taking you by his strong legs, and passed the frightened guard. You just hang there, shielding your eyes from the wind and waiting for the Skrill to find the exit.

Now and there he shot the lightning, but it didn't scare you. You somehow started to trust him. Well, you saved him and now he is saving you - and that's enough to begin to bond with a dragon, right?

After he found his way out of the Berserkers' island, he landed on some rock. "Thank you," you said. He just purred, placing his body right in front of you, watching your every move.

You looked away. "It may sound crazy, but even though people are more afraid of you than of the Night Fury, I don't. I trust you." You reached out your hand towards him, focusing your eyes on the ground. "Do you?"

The Skrill placed his nose against your palm and you smiled.

"Now, what should we call you?" The Skrill looked at you with his big eyes, understanding your every word. Just as you were thinking, he shot his lightning towards the clouds. "Hm, Bolt?"

He didn't complain, so you smiled and scratched his scaly skin. "Bolt it is then. How about I introduced you to my family and feed you some fish?"

As much as Bolt enjoyed the scratching, he licked his mouth and lowered his body, so you could hop on. This was the start of your relationship.

Hideous zippleback-

It was late in the morning and you were just leaving your house. You had a great dream and you were well fed. 'Well, this is going to be a really good day,' you thought. You headed towards the woods and soon found a little cave. It was small as your bedroom and it had this really big opening that kind of looked like a large window.  "Hello," you greeted your two friends, Odias and Hanka. "Here is our sleeper!" said Odias amused, while he was drawing something on the paper. "Why do you always sleep so long? It's almost lunch!" "Gotta get my beauty sleep." You sat down next to Hanka and asked: "What have you guys been doing?" "Playing with Bea," she simply answered and took the little Terrible Terror from the ground. "She is so lovable, isn't she?" You looked at Hanka's bright red dragon and scratch it under the chin. "Yeah, yeah," you agreed, but you haven't sound as enthusiastically as she.  "Why don't you get your own little dragon?" She asked you and smiled at the thought.  "Err, but it's just a Terrible Terror. What's the point of having a dragon, if you can't ride it?" Suddenly, Hanka became angry. She couldn't believe what you just said! She felt insulted. "What's the point of having a dragon, if you're not brave enough to get one!" "What did you just said?!" You two stood up and faced each other. "I am brave!" It was normal for you to have a fight with Hanka. I mean, she has been your close friend since kindergarten and arguing with her was quite normal. "Then prove it!" "Fine!" And without another word, you left the cave. You needed to chill out. The forest was warm at this time of the year so you decided to take a short walk. "Not brave enough," you mumbled under your breath. "I'll show her." After like ten minutes, you found two Terrible Terrors playing with each other. You sat down next to them and they curiously came closer. You scratched one Terror's head and it purred. "You dragons are soo easy to get." You picked one up. "Come on. Let's get you to Hanka." Terrors still thought you are playing so they didn't mind going with you. They looked really happy, but you were so annoyed, you almost didn't see a movement from behind the bush. "Who is there?" you asked out loud while placing the Terror back on the ground. "Hanka?" Is she stalking you? Or is just someone pranking you? "Show yourself!"  The creature came from behind the bush and your eyes opened wide. It was a goldish green Hideous Zippleback with red spikes. Its heads were calmly looking from you to Terrible Terrors. The Hideous Zippleback probably sensed you were a friend to dragons and that's why it came from its hiding place. "Well, you will help me with my 'Hanka problem' just fine," you smiled, forgetting all about two Terrible Terrors. You reached your hand and touched one head. "But maybe I should name you first." You touched another head and scratched it. The Hideous Zippleback liked it and fought for your attention. It was amazing how one dragon can have two personalities.  "How about Vengeance and Revenge? I think it'll suit your next task."  *** "Where are you?!" yelled Hanka. "Look, I am sorry. I shouldn't have said you're not brave!" "Yes!" agreed Odias, yelling as well. "She is an idiot! Now don't be angry! Show up!" They have been searching for you in the forest for the last ten minutes and your amusement just grew. You have been looking at them from the sky (of course, you have been riding Vengeance and Revenge as low as possible for your friends not to see). "Show yourself! Please!" While Hanka yelled, Vengeance quickly showed Odias from the ground and put him onto his neck. He looked shocked but after he saw you, he grew mischievous as well. "Odias! Where are you?!" Vengeance and Revenge hid themselves in the bush and when Hanka turned around they roared.  "W-who is it?" She held her Terrible Terror so tight you had to cover your mouth not to laugh. "Now," you whispered to your new dragon and it jumped from behind the bush. Hanka fell on the ground looking pale as the moon and breathing heavily. You and

Odias burst in laughter, jumping from the dragon. "Got you!" "What?" asked Hanka. "That's my new dragon. Vengeance and Revenge," you said casually. "Still think I am not brave enough?" Hanka stood up - but she didn't look angry nor pale. She just looked sorry. "Ok. I am sorry. You got me." You two smiled. "But seriously, you've got yourself a dragon and named him Vengeance and Revenge just to show me up?!" "Yep." "Well, I should've known." "Wanna ride?"

(had to put that gif there lol)

Razorwhip-

It was that time of the year when Gothi gave you a list of ingredients you needed to find on the Healer's island. You really liked doing it. You had a free day for yourself just collecting flowers and stuff. Who wouldn't want that, really? Every time, you pick some random Gronckle to give you a ride, so you don't have to get to that island on the boat. You really liked Gronckles, but they weren't your type of a dragon. You wanted a strong and fast one. But there wasn't enough time to find you your own dragon, so you just used Gronckles when they were needed.  It was a really great day. Sun was shining, birds were singing and your basket was slowly being filled. At the time you were heading towards the rare yellow flower, you heard a loud sound - as if someone was smashing a piece of metal against another piece of metal. It was weird. As you were wondering what could be possibly making that sound you saw it. A female Razorwhip. From what you could see, it accidentally got its long neck in the rope that was hanging from the tree and when it was trying to broke free, it sliced the tree in half and as the tree fell on top of the dragon, it knocked off one big stone from the rock wall and that stone fell on the dragon's wing, trapping it completely. "Oh my gods!" you exclaimed looking at this mess. You immediately dropped the basket for Gothi and made your way towards the poor Razorwhip. Your steps were slow, but that didn't stop the dragon from being scared. It raised its tail and shot the spines but because of the fallen tree, it was unsuccessful. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you!" You made your way back towards your basket and found a dragon nip you store there for Gronckles. You picked it up and made your way back to the Razorwhip. You didn't get too close, of course, just enough for the dragon to smell the dragon nip. When you saw that the dragon relaxed, you decided to come even closer. And fortunately, the Razorwhip let you. You let her smell the green plant some more, but then you let it fell to the ground so you'd get the dragon's full attention. It was a girl - cause it had really long eyelashes - and her eyes were, unlike Windshears, red. But not bloody red, more like strawberry kind of red.  "Now let me help you," you said while reaching your hand. Razorwhip had to be really intelligent because it pressed its scaly head against your palm, letting you touch it. She probably knew you were her only chance now. After you caressed her smooth metallic grey scales on the head you took insight into her full appearance. Well, you definitely needed some help with that stone on her wing and also with that entire tree, but the loop on her neck could be removed easily straight away. "Now I will take my knife and cut that rope off your neck, okay?" you informed her. "Please don't freak out, I won't hurt you with that knife."

Razorwhip purred, so you carefully took out the knife from your pocket and did as you said. The dragon didn't even flinch. "You're a brave girl, you know?" you said happily because it went so easy. "How about I call you Fearless?" She looked happy since her neck wasn't in the loop anymore so you could tell, she was content. "Now how do I take care of this?" You made your way towards the stone and then the idea hit you. "Wait here I'll get some help!" Fearless roared for you, but you ran away. Soon, you came back - but on a happy green Gronckle. "We'll get that stone away, okay Fearless?" you asked and fly towards it. "Don't worry, it will be over soon!"Gronckle's strong legs lifted that rock up and placed it on the grass. Then you made Gronckle do the same with the tree. It was tough at first, but with Fearless's help, you actually managed to break her free. "That's it!" you yelled happily and quickly made Gronckle land on the ground, so you could hug Fearless. "I told you I'd help you. Is your wing alright?" She raised both of her wings straight up to the air, showing you her strength. You laughed and waved at the leaving Gronckle. "Now, do you want to help me found a yellow flower? After that, we'll get you some sea slugs and you could come home with me back to Berk!" You were really excited about creating a bond with her! But so was she.

[colossal-fallout]

Historia x fem!reader where historia has a secret sex dungeon and when the reader comes back from a risky expedition with the scouts, historia takes her there and fucks the reader silly (bonus historia like to be called mommy😏)

I love anons minds. Truly, I do.

Service to your Queen 👑

Warnings: 18+ NSFW. Dom Historia X Fem reader. Mommy kink.

"Your majesty. The survey corps have returned."

Queen Historia stood gazing out of the window, longingly. She belonged here in the palace; to keep the law and order of the land.

But god's, did her heart belong out there...

Out there fighting for freedom. Out there where returning home is not a guarantee but glory awaits you either way. Out there where you were, opposing the immense oppression of not only the titans, but of the fellow human beings across the ocean. The ocean that was almost mythical to her at this point - she still hadn't witnessed the wonder of the edge of her world.

"Is that so?" She replies, turning her head slightly; her rose tinted lips parting.

The meeting went well.

Historia had all of her old comrades around a huge polished table, one in which the strong scent of varnish would sting your nostrils. Whenever her old team would come to the palace to report and strategize their next move it warmed her heart. She kept them under her roof in the luxurious rooms and made sure they were fed well and pampered. After all, they weren't only fighting for the future of her Kingdom, but they were her friends.

Then there was you.

"Y/N." She pulls you aside after dinner, the room relaxed, satisfied and grateful; chatting in sporadic areas of the large dining hall leasuirely.

"Yes, your majesty?" You bow your head slightly, hiding the lustful glint in your eye.

Your lover didn't have to be queen for you to see her as royalty.

"Come with me." She orders simply.

You nod and you both slip out of the room, your shoes padding on the soft velvet carpet that centres the marble floor as you follow her down the hallway.

"I hear that you've just returned from a particularly dangerous expedition."

"Yes." You nod, keeping formalities - for now.

"I see."

She turns down a more narrow hallway one that looked slightly misplaced in the lavish royal palace.

"... Historia?" You ask, dropping the act now there was no chance of anyone hearing you. "Where are we going?"

"My new playroom."

Playroom?

You imagined her, this grown woman sitting with her crown on her head playing with dolls and combing their hair. You sure hoped she wasn't going to make you have a fucking tea party.

You reach a door when she stops and pulls out a key, unlocking it and heading inside. When you follow her into what looks like an abandoned library, she locks the door behind you.

Oh? Does she mean a playroom where she's renovating?

Her heels that are hidden by her flowing gown click across the floorboards, when she stops in a seemingly random area near the back wall.

"Did you miss me?" She asks, her large eyes gazing at you.

"Of course..."

Without replying she stomps her foot down and a trapdoor swings open seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh..." You begin.

"Shut up. Follow me."

Grabbing a torch off the wall she begins to decend the stone stairs beneath the floor, you following meekly behind.

"You're... Not going to kill me, are you?" You frown as you sink into the inky darkeness.

A soft laugh escapes her throat. "No."

As you walk, you wonder if the royal treatment has gone to her head and she was about to show you some secret torture chamber with some Marleyan's inside. Your mind wanders into weird territory as it usually did, musing how it would feel if she had somehow got Reiner down there or Annie.

You weren't too far off with the torture chamber.

When she opened the door at the bottom there was a table in the centre of a well lit room and the wall was lined with strap ons, dildos, chains, whips... You name it.

Your eyes widen at the sight.

Oh. A playroom.

"Remove your clothes " she orders, casually undoing her royal cape and hanging it on a shabby looking coat rack.

"Um -"

"Now."

You happily oblige, your fingers not being able to move quick enough as she stands in front of you and removes her dress, her gorgeous body in all of its glory bare before you.

"Fuck..." You sigh, walking over, ready to devour her.

"No. You can't touch me." She steps back. "Lie on the table."

Your hands hesitate, wanting nothing more than to grope those beautiful tits and slide your fingers down her slit.

But she pushes you over anyway laying you down harshly before tying your hands above your head.

"Historia?" You frown but you're excited, dying to feel her soft skin against yours.

"Address me properly." She replies as she's fastening your bonds, not even looking at you.

"Your majesty?"

"No."

"My queen?"

She grabs your face and straddles you her warm pussy on your lower stomach.

"Try again."

"...Mommy?"

She bites her bottom lip devishly before rewarding you by sliding her tongue into your mouth, slowly and deeply swirling it around your cave.

"Good girl." She breathes as she pulls away, leaving you yearning for more.

She leans up and raises her arms above her head, fiddling with the grips that held in her elegant plaited bun. The shape of her body this way drove you wild; her hips snaking into her slim waist up to her breasts... You wanted nothing more but to touch her. And when that clip came out and her blonde hair spilled down around her...

"Holy shit, you're gorgeous..." You breathe, having missed her far too much.

She looks down and smirks, those small yet puffy lips being ran over by her tongue. "Theres so much I want you to do to me, y/n..." She begins, slowly moving herself up your body on her knees. "But there's a lot more that I want to do to you."

You hum with arousal as she lowers her small pink pussy onto your face, her legs by your head and her fingers gripping at your hair as she slowly rocks her hips back and forth on your tongue.

"Ah~" she makes a sound like she'd just sank into a warm bath, her eyes closing in bliss having missed your warm tongue lapping at her clit. Her hips gyrate and rock, her sweet scent filling your nose and her even sweeter taste soaking into your mouth. Her fingers flex in your strands, humming and sighing like she'd just returned home from a hard days work.

She begins to rock faster, her body been empty from you for too long, her climax already quickly approaching. Her thighs squeeze against your head, her skin muffling the sounds of her gasps which are getting more desperate.

"Y-you're not going any- ah, anywhere." She breathes, her face begining to turn pink. "Y- you're staying in here forever. Haa~ ah ~!"

Her legs squeeze you tighter as her cum begins to dribble out of her tight hole, splashing around your lips, your vibrating moan only making her feel even more in the arms of bliss. Her back straightens the view from beneath her something only a god could carve.

With a satisfied hum, she climbs off you; your face flushed and wet, your body aching for her. She stalks around to between your legs, your pussy quivering with arousal and dripping - as if crying for her to ruin you.

Her tongue laps up the bead of wetness and up your folds to your clit, circling it while caressing you thighs with her soft hands, grazing her nails softly on the insides of your legs, teasingly.

"Oh, Historia..." You pur, eyes rolling at the touch of her warm muscle.

She pulls her mouth away. "What did I tell you, gorgeous?" Her own asphyxiating lust clouding her sky blues.

"Mommy..." You moan as her slender, feminine finger circles your bundle of nerves.

"You're such a good girl." She grins before returning her mouth to your cunt, sliding her delicate fingers inside your clenching tunnel.

"Yes..." You sigh. "God I missed you. You make me feel so... Ah! So fucking good."

Curling her fingers she relishes in how good you taste, better than any meal the grand palace could ever provide.

"Yes! Mommy... Please. Let me touch you!"

Hearing that word on your own accord made something inside of her snap, a tightness in her lower stomach that had to be addressed immediately.

Removing herself she straddles you again, this time on your pubic bone, leaning forward and freeing your hands that instantly glue themself to her hips as she begins to rock and grind between your legs; the warm thick slick reducing friction but intensifying pleasure.

"y/n... Ah, yes! My brave soldier... Oh... God!" She calls out riding you, her hips rolling again and again, her tits jiggling as she pulls your nipples with her fingers.

"Yes! Fuck! Mommy! Fuck me!" You cry, your orgasm threatening the boundaries of your reality.

Hearing you say that again makes her cum instantly, her clenching cunt pushing you over your edge, rocking her harder by her waist as you leave your body and ascend into the heavens.

Your eyes flicker open once you calm down, your legs shivering, lower stomach covered in the queen's cum.

She runs her tongue up your entire body, collecting your mixture of arousal and sliding it into your mouth with a groan.

"You serve your queen well."

[ithebookhoarder]

Hiiiiiiiii! idk if you're taking requests but if you are, could you write #19 from physical affection prompt list (it's "peppering their face in kisses") for Tommy? PLEASE if you want to 😅 or #5 from the fluff list, whichever you like more 🤔

Both. Both is good ;) Here you are hon. Hope you enjoy x As always, I’ve tagged the prompt lists these were taken from for anyone who wants them :)

Fluff Prompt list: No. 5: ‘Oh, you’re jealous.’ (Tommy Shelby x Reader) & Physical Affection Prompts: No. 19 ‘Peppering their face in kisses’ 

Masterlist:

Tommy Shelby wasn’t always a patient man. If he wanted something he usually made sure he got it. 

Tonight was no different as you stormed up the stairs towards your shared bedroom, Tommy following you with a frustrated expression on his face. It was impressive to be honest. He often found it hard to be mad at you when you looked as beautiful as you did, still dressed in the emerald green gown you’d chosen for the evening’s festivities. 

However, the sullen expression on your face was all he could focus on as you marched ahead, continuing the silence you’d been giving him since you’d left the party an hour ago. 

“Alright then. Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“You know what,” he cooed, narrowing his eyes as if to warn you not to play games. “Whatever it is that’s been bothering you since the party. I may need glasses but I’m not blind. I can see you’re upset about something.”

You sighed, ignoring him and choosing instead to make your way over to the vanity in the corner of the room. It was easier to concentrate on releasing your hair from its pins and not on the man stood watching you from the doorway. 

As soon as you did, you felt better, the tension easing away from the vice like strain it had put on your scalp. 

Beauty really was pain sometimes. Especially when it hadn’t worked as planned, your husband’s eyes still wandering across the room to other women in attendance that night. Or, more precisely, Lizzie.

Now, whilst you actually quite liked her and even considered her a friend to you, you had never been able to shake the suspicion that Tommy’s past with her was just that: the past. 

You knew that made you sound crazy. You knew it made you sound like a jealous woman, an irrational one, judging a woman for a life she’d had no choice but to endure as a way to survive… but you were human. You were in love, and you couldn’t help but worry your husband would one day be taken from you, either by a rival businessman, or a rival lover. 

“Y/N,” he pleaded, drifting over to stand behind you. His hands were warm and soft as they rose to rest on your shoulders, as if grounding you to him. “Talk to me, eh? I can’t help make it better if I don’t know what it is that’s bothering you.” 

“Oh, really, Tommy?” 

“Yes.”

“I… I just…” 

“Just what?” he coaxed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. It was as if he knew how to slowly wear your resolve down, letting his soft touch draw out your answer as he continued to pepper kisses down you face, turning his attention to your neck and shoulders. 

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. “You play dirty, Tommy Shelby.”

“And what of it, Mrs Shelby?” he chuckled, eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked up meet your gaze in the mirror. The sight waiting was a debauched one, with your face flushed and chest heaving against your dress as his hands trailed up and down your skin. “You haven’t complained before.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I noticed that this is your way of distracting me. Manipulating me. Making me do or agree to whatever it is you want.”

 “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tommy scoffed, pausing his ministrations to gently turn you so that you were now facing him. It was harder to ignore the desire in his eyes now, even more so as he dropped to his knees and stared up at you. “I just want you to be happy, Y/N. As happy as you make me every time I look at you and realise that I get to call you my wife.” 

The words made you sigh, your heart fluttering in response. Damn it. He knew exactly what to say. He always had. After all, he got you to agree to marry him, didn’t he? 

As if reminding you of that fact, you felt his hands take yours, his fingers gently toying with the gold band that sat on yours. 

“Then why do you do it, Tommy?”

“Do what?”

“Never look at me when we’re in public,” you whispered guiltily, as if embarrassed by your own insecurities. “You always disappear and talk to every other woman but me. It’s embarrassing. It’s like you’re bored by me.”

“Hey,” he warned, lifting a hand to your chin and making your eyes lock with his. “That’s not true. I could never get bored of you, Y/N. You know that. I love you more than I can ever say and I wish I knew how to make you understand that. If I’m talking to other women then it’s usually because it’s part of the business or some posh bastard has pushed her in my face.”

“So, what’s your excuse for Lizzie then?” 

Tommy froze. 

You watched as his features relaxed now that the heart of the matter had been established. You also watched the way his lips began to twitch, as if withholding the urge to smile. 

“Lizzie?” he repeated, a small laugh escaping him. “Oh, you’re jealous? That’s what this is about? The fact I spoke with Lizzie?”

“And danced with her. Three times, so don’t fucking laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” you snapped, pushing his hands off of you and attempting to turn back around. But Tommy was quick. Quicker than you gave credit for as he held you in place, his hands planted to the silk fabric covering your thighs. His grip was gentle though, if not firm. 

“I’m not,” he repeated softly, shaking his head. “I just think it’s flattering.”

“What is?”

“That you get jealous of me and Lizzie. I didn’t know you felt that way. As I told you, she’s just a friend. You’re my wife. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know,” you conceded, taking a deep breath. You let his words linger between you, as if trying to absorb them so that they’d stick. “It’s just … I feel like you’ll get bored of me one day. I’m not dangerous or exciting like most of those women. I’m not from their worlds. I know you all think I’m naive and soft-“

“You know what I think? I think you’re wonderful,” Tommy purred, cutting you off before you could plummet further into your insecurities, just as you did for him when he was about to do the same. “I think you’re smart. Kind. Brave. Possibly insane for loving a mess of a man like me.”

You giggled as between each word he pressed a kiss to a different place on your face. If he’d been wearing rouge on his lips, he would have stained you in a wash of red kisses. 

“I also think you’re compassionate. A perfect wife. A loyal companion and business partner. And hopefully, one day, you’ll be the mother of our children, too.” 

The thought sent shivers of desire running through you, melting any final concerns from your soul as you allowed him to worship you. 

“I want that, Tommy. More than anything.”

“Then trust me,” he instructed, hands sliding temptingly up your body and pulling you into his lap. You knew exactly where he was taking this and you were more than willing to follow. “Can I take you to bed, wife of mine?”

You nodded. “You can take me anywhere, Tommy. As long as we’re together… but bed sounds like a good place to start. How else are we going to have those children?” 

Tommy didn’t need telling twice. You were in his arms and being carried towards your bed before you even had time to blink. Oh, it was going to be a great night after all.  

[tinyboxxtink]

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 6*

Fair warning, this chapter starts fluffy/sexy and takes a hard left turn, idk a “trigger” word for that. 😐 Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

Your parents shower wasn’t that big, after all it was the Barrio. It was almost like cramming two people in a bathroom stall. 

“Maybe this wasn’t a great idea,” You winced as Rafael’s elbow nearly missed your eye. 

“Well, maybe we can’t go for round two, but I can still pamper you hermosa,” He lathered shampoo in his hands and began massaging your scalp. It was like he had magic fingers, the way they moved all around your head, hitting pleasure spots you were unaware you even had. 

“Mmmmm,” You purred. The head massage with the warm water, all of your stress just melted away. You weren’t thinking of the kids, or the restaurant, or even the Diablos. It was just you and Rafael, here in this moment. 

“Now rinse,” Rafael instructed, and you obliged. As the water cascaded over your face, he began massaging your shoulders with soft kisses mixed in. 

“You’re killin me smalls,” You groaned with a laugh.

There was zero way you were having sex in this shower without someone breaking something. Still, it was too enticing. You turned to face him, lathering shampoo in your own hands and rubbing it into his hair gently, pulling him in to kiss you as you did so. Pretty soon you could feel his erection against your naked thigh. 

“How’s your upper body strength?” You asked devilishly.

“It’s...adequate,” Rafael saw the wheels turning in your head.

“Well then I better work fast,” You grabbed him into a hard kiss and jumped into his arms, pushing him inside you. 

“Mmmph!”  He knew what was coming, but it still took him aback as he tried to distribute your weight in his arms without slipping and killing you both. However once he got a rhythm going, the feeling was intoxicating. He bounced you up and down while you had your legs tightly wrapped around him like a tree. 

“Are you almost there baby? I really oversold myself here,” He grunted, making you giggle. 

“Aw honey, is the arthritis kicking in?” You teased him, pulling on his hair as you bounced.

“Ha ha,” He couldn’t even come with a witty comeback, he was at capacity all around. 

“Alright alright, let mama help,” You balanced on him with one hand, as your other reached down and went inside you, between his ball sack and your clit. You started rubbing it around as hard as you could, encouraging completion from the both of you. You must have done a hell of a job, because one moment you heard you both moaning in pleasure, and the next you were waking up on the floor of the shower, Rafael still inside you.

“Fucking Christ! What happened?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of this whole thing.

“Shit, fuck are you ok Y/N?” Rafael pulled out of you and frantically searched your body for injuries. 

“Yeah...I think I bumped my head,” 

“Yeah I um...we both...and I dropped you,” He turned bright red, making you laugh harder.

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, helping you to your feet.

“Aww, baby I know, I know,” You giggled as you rinsed the suds that were all over him. 

“Are you sure you’re ok? That was a pretty hard thump on the head,” He searched your eyes for dilation, making sure you didn’t have a concussion. 

“Trust me, my hard head can handle a lot,” You assured him. 

“Okay, good. Now no more shenanigans, I can’t end up in the hospital over sexcapades,” He chuckled as he finished cleaning himself. 

“Oh yeah, what would the people say?!” You feigned shock.

“They’d say that’s still pretty tame to some of the other government officials' dirty deeds,” He chuckled as you rinsed off and went to grab some towels off the rack. 

“Oooh scandalous,” You giggled, turning off the water and handing him one of the towels. You both dried yourselves off, then stopped to look at your reflections in the mirror.

“Well, this is one image I never expected to see in this mirror,” You smirked, reaching and ruffling Rafael’s hair. As you turned to face him you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

 “Yeah this is a whole 180 from kicking me out of your place,” He smirked. 

“I didn’t kick you out! You were already outside!” 

“Semantics,” He rolled his eyes as he walked over to his clothes and began to put them on.

“So you really, never thought--?” You perched yourself at the foot of the bed, still wrapped in your towel.

“In the middle of you screaming at me? No, I can’t say that it did,” He chuckled.

“I’m really sorry about that,” 

“Don’t be,” He kissed your forehead. “It’s far behind us,” You smiled and pecked him on the lips.

“Speaking of,” He glanced at his phone. “I am FAR BEHIND schedule, I better go. I still have to go home and get into abogado mode,” He chuckled as he grabbed his leather jacket and walked out of the room into the hall. You trailed behind in your towel, down the stairs and to the back door where he paused and held you for a moment. 

“I hate to say it, but next time you see me…” 

“You’ll be abogado Rafael Barba, not Rafa,” you finished with a sad smile; you rolled the R as he did the night before. 

“Yeah…” He played with your hands in his, looking sadly at the floor.

“Well it’s good we got that out of our systems then,” You half smiled, making his head jerk up. 

“....Seriously?” He asked with so much hurt in his voice. 

“I was feeling you out, guapo,” You pushed his shoulder playfully as he let out a sigh of relief. 

“But seriously, that’s gonna have to last us for a while,” You stroked his cheek. “I can’t have the kids thinking…” 

“I know,” he put a hand over yours on his face. “I can’t have people talking either,” 

“But as SOON as my parents are home--” You batted your eyes. 

“Oh it’s on, mi amor,” He pulled you in for another kiss, you smiled into his lips. 

“Alright, well have Mr. Barba call me later, yeah?” You chuckled as he mounted his bike. 

“He will definitely be in touch, Miss Y/N,” He winked before driving out of the alley way and down the street. 

You leaned against the doorway, drinking in the whole night/morning. You were so lost in happiness, you didn’t notice the shadow figure emerging from down the alley.

“Hola, Y/N,” Diego’s voice startled you so bad you almost dropped your towel.

“D-Diego,” You whispered, unsure what to do. 

“I knew it, the abogado wanted him some nice chicano ass, those boring gringa Barbies ain’t shit,” He chuckled. 

“That’s NOT--” 

“No you know what it’s not? It’s not okay for you to disrespect me like this,” He shook his head. 

“Ay, mami. I tried to be nice, I really did. I gave you a nice warning and everything,” He put hand to your cheek but you jerked it away. 

“You leave us alone, Diego,” You summoned all the courage you had to stand up against him. 

“Ohhhh, kitty’s got claws now!” He laughed harder. “That’s cute,” 

“Rafael already put one of you away, he could finish the job,” You got way too cocky for your own good. Diego got in your face, his hands almost around your throat.

“Or I could finish him, puta!” He growled.

 “Rafa thinks he’s chico grande because he climbed up out of here, and yet look at this, he’s still slumming it,” He nodded at you with an evil smirk. “I think he needs to be reminded who still runs this place,” 

And that was it. You didn’t remember anything else until you heard Mari screaming at you. 

“Y/N!!!! Oh my God… Y/N!!! Are you ok? Please wake up, please wake up…” She was shaking you. It took you a moment to return to consciousness, but as your brain started to wake up, so did the pain. 

“Ow…” You muttered. Mari let out a breath of relief as she threw her hands around your neck and pulled you up. 

“What the fuck happened?!” 

“Diego…” You muttered, still not quite able to form full sentences. 

“Diego? Why would Diego beat the shit out of you?”

“Rafa…” You mumbled back, walking over to the mirror of your backroom. Your hair was disheveled, gravel all tangled in it. Your face was black and blue, your lip was bleeding. You removed your towel to asses the damage to your body. Black and blue bruises were forming on your rib cage. It was obvious once Diego had punched you out he literally kicked the shit out of you. 

“Jesus Christ...we should get you to a hospital,” Mari came up behind you with tears in her eyes as she saw just how badly you were hurt.

“No!” You spun around to face her. “That is the LAST thing we need to do,” You hobbled up your stairs. 

“Seriously, Y/N? Look at you, you can barely walk!”

“I’m fine,” You walked back into your parent’s bedroom, Mari trailed right behind you. You winced in pain as you sat on the bed. You looked over to the spot where you and Rafael had just been together hours before; how did it go from that to this?

“Wow, it looks like you had sex in here....” Mari trailed off, looking at you. “OH MY GOD,” 

“Can you not yell, please?” You held your ear in pain.

“That’s why Diego came after you! Rafael was here, wasn’t he?” Mari was starting to get angry.

“Maybe…”

“Oh that son of a bitch,” Mari started pacing angrily. “I can’t believe he let him do that shit to you!”

“He didn’t,” You winced more as you tried getting dressed. “He left, and then Diego jumped me,” 

“Where’s your phone? That pendejo is getting a piece of my mind--” Mari started going for your phone on the dresser.

“NO,” You grabbed it before she could. “If you call Rafa, he’ll just come right back down here and he can’t deal with all of...this,” You gestured to your bruised body.  “He has a job, he doesn’t have time to worry about me,” 

“He did this to you!”

“I did this to myself, Mari,” You sighed. “He came over last night and I should’ve told him to leave-- but I didn’t,” Tears stung your eyes as you spoke. 

“And now the universe is severely punishing me for it,” You threw your hands up. “I should’ve known not to fly close to the sun-- I got burned,” 

“And then some,” Mari looked at you sadly. “Well, obviously you can’t see him again,” 

“Obviously,”  You sighed, doing your best to keep a brave face. “Can you...Would you go downstairs and open for me? I need a minute,” 

“Absolutely babe, you take as long as you need,” Mari nodded and gave you a hug as she left and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You collapsed onto the bed in sobs; pathetic, loud, carnal sobs. 

How could it end like this?

[auspicious-lilana]

Two Cats, One Heart (Chat Noir x reader)

Summary: Y/n Ross and Adrian Agreste are childhood best friends, they’ve been through thick and thin, including losing their mom, and dad. Since then Y/n’s mom made her live with Adrian at his mansion and forever leaving her life. Watch as their lives Change as they become the new heroes of Paris alongside Ladybug and see how Romance sprouts between the two models.

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6  

"You don't have to stay, N/n."  Adrian said as he was in his fencing gear.

"I don't mind."  I said, shrugging it off as I sat on a the side bench. "Not like I have anything better to do. We go to our photoshoot together half a hour after this."  

"But you could go and have fun instead of staying here in a sweaty training room full of boys."  

"I am having fun."  I said with a smile. "I'm with you."  Adrian blushed slightly before grinning.

"You should watch your words, shortie."  Adrian chuckles. "You almost made me think you might have a crush on me."  

"I'll try."  I winked.

***

I checked the time to see it was almost  time for the unveiling ceremony. I looked to see Adrian fencing.

"Hey, uh. Adrian?"  I asked as he stopped to look.

"Yeah?"  

"I'm going to go out for a bit, starting to see how stuffy a room can get."  I chuckled as Adrian nodded.

"Sure, Stay safe."  

"I will, goldilocks."  I picked up my bag as I left the room, not knowing of the class of boys asking who I was, or if I was available towards Adrian.

I casually walked in the hallway before running in the girl's bathroom, going in a stall.

"If you thought that room was stuffy,"  Alpha said, coming out. "Try being in your bag for 2 hours."  

"Oh hush, Drama Queen."  I rolled my eyes. "Now we got a unveiling to be at."  

"We?"  

"Oh right,"  I said, grinning. "Lady Wolf  has to be there, Y/n Ross will have to go now."

"Can I eat fir-"  

"Alpha, Tails out!"  

***

"Hey, Kitty."  I said,jumping down the stage to meet Chat Noir.

"Hey, Petit Loup."  Chat purred as I scratched behind his ear as I chuckled when he nearly fell back once I pulled my hands back unknown to the jealousy fueling man behind us.

"Excuse me?"  A brown haired man asked us nervously. "Lady Wolf?"  

"That's me."  I grinned.

"I was wondering-"  

"Lady Wolf!" a group of students began to cheer as I got distracted by the cute little kid dressed as me.

"Hey kids!" I said, bending down to the little girl. "You look fierce."  The little girl giggled as I sheepishly grinned.

"Can I ask you a question?" Alya asked as I stood up.

"Shoot away!"  

{Third POV}

Théo sighed as he reached his arms out to Lady Wolf who slowly got crowded.

"What's with the long sigh?" Chat asked, curious.

"It's just that, I wanted to ask her to autograph this photo. She's amazing. She's so brave and courageous. the way she makes you just feel safe with a smile..."  Théo daydreamed as he looked at the photo of Lady Wolf as Chat frowned. He loved Y/n, but some small part of him felt familiar with Lady Wolf, as if he known her forever.  

"Perhaps the ceremony should commence. It might bring ladybug here faster."  The Mayor said to Chat Noir.

***

" ...I'm there!"  Marinette said, entering the boys locker, looking for Adrian's phone to delete the voicemail.

"Oh boy."  Tikki said.

"Which one his's?"  Marinette panicked.

"If you call him, you can make his phone ring."  

"Nice, Tikki."  Marinette called him before she pressed her ear on every locker.

***

"It's only proper for Paris to pay homage to those to protect us from evil."  The Mayor announced as the statue was soon unveiled. "Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Lady Wolf."  

Théo sighed before smiling as Lady Wolf approached him.

"so what was your question."  

"I was wond-"  Lady Wolf's phone (her baton) began to ring. "You should."  he sighed.

"No, I'm sure it's not that important."  

"Maybe it is."  

"If you insist."  Lady wolf took out her baton as she jumped to a private place before going to answer the phone.

"These statues are amazing. One thing's slightly off though"  Chat said as he crouched on the statue next to Théo. "I remember being taller than Lady Wolf."

"I never got the chance to ask her for her autograph." Théo sighed sadly. " I just wanted to express my adoration for her. Let her know that everything I had went into her statue. I'm sure if she took a little time to get to know me, she would see how much we have in common. Our devotion to the things we love."

"Hey, I don't mean to burst your bubble."  Chat said, putting his arm Théo.  " but you know, Lady Wolf and me, we're a thing, you know?"  

"Really?"  

"Yeah, we're like this." Chat crossed his fingers. "Didn't you see before?"  Théo growled and pushed Chat from his grips as he stormed off.

"What does Lady Wolf see in him?"  He growled. (A/n: I don't know, A cute black cat with a spoonful of cat puns?)

***

The ceremony soon ended as Chat and Lady Wolf said their goodbyes. Chat went back to the school as Lady Wolf went to a alleyway near the school as soon after they all went home.

"Where is it?"  Adrian frustratedly said as he searched all over his gym bag before glaring at Plagg who ate his cheese carelessly.

"What are you looking at me for?"  Plagg said, feeling accused.  "I didn't eat! I swear!"  

{Y/n POV}

"Hey N/n!"  Adrian shouted from his room, knowing from the thin walls that I'd hear.

"Yeah?!"  I shouted back, not looking up from my phone screen as I played piano tiles.

"Come here!"  I groaned as I missed a tile.

" 'kay!"  I dropped my phone on my table as I got up stretching.

"Wonder what's up with pretty boy."  Alpha asked.

"Don't know,"  I said. "Can't be that bad though, c'mon."  Alpha went in my pocket as I left my room, entering Adrian's. "You called?"

"Have you seen my phone?"

"Your phone? No, you lost it?"  I asked as I laid on his couch.

"Must have dropped on my locker room."  Adrian groaned.

"Don't worry too much of it." I sat up. "You'll find it in no time."

"And if I don't?"  

"Buy a new one."  

"But setting up and getting my contacts back is a pain."  Adrian groaned as he fell on the couch.

"Relax, it's probably still in the locker room as we speak."  I said. "We'll get it right now."  I got up as I grabbed Adrian's hand as I dragged him out the door, not seeing him quickly take Plagg behind my back.

***

"And in some astonishing news, there's been a spectacular theft at the Louvre."  The car radio tv on the chair  spoke as Adrian and I looked at each other confused. "Amateur video showed without a shadow of a doubt that the thief is none other than the famous hero, Cat Noir."

"What?!"  we both said in shock.

"Cat's meow?" Adrian mumbled as the car stopped at the school.

"I'll go look in the gym and you check the locker room?"  I suggested as we both nodded as we ran separate ways. I stopped at the gym door, before looking around and heading in the bathroom.

"Chat is a lot of things."  I said as Alpha came out once I went in a stall. "But thief isn't one of them. I just know it's a fake."

"Because your love for him is so strong."  Alpha mocked.

"Whatever."  I said, rolling my eyes. "We have a kitty to prove innocent and fake to catch."

"True love triumphs all."  Alpha continued mocking. "How about a true love ki-"  

"Alpha, Tails out!" I said as I transformed. "Man, I thought you'd never shut up." I chuckled before going out the window.

I was on my way to the museum as I ran to ladybug.

"Ladybug!" I exclaimed as we stopped.

"Lady Wolf."

"You heard?"

"Yeah."  

"Do you think...?"

"Chat Noir may get annoying, but he wouldn't steal." Ladybug said as I nodded as we went down to the museum to see the officers and the mayor.

"Mr.Mayor this is ridiculous." I said as we dropped next to the mayor.

"We're sure there's a simple explanation."

"Kitty's in the slammer, Ladybug, Lady Wolf." Officer Rogers said, approaching us.

"You don't actually think that'll keep hi-" I started to scoff before he cut me off.

"Now, now. Leave it to the experts, Lady Wolf. We've got it under control."  Ladybug and I exchanged looks, knowing that won't keep Chat in.

"Cat Noir is getting away!"  Officer Roger's walkie talkie said. Officer Rogers, Ladybug and I ran inside to see the metal bars they locked Chat in was broken down, he used his powers.

"Well, if he's so innocent, then why is he running away?" Officer Rogers questioned.

"Well if you were wrongly imprisoned, wouldn't you run?" I said, glaring at the officer as I crossed my arms. My baton began to ring as I gave Ladybug a look as we ran to exit the museum as I got out my baton to answer.

"Chat Noir! Where are you?" I asked.

"You know I'm innocent," Chat said. "Don't you, mon loup?"

"Now's not the time, Chat." Ladybug exclaimed. "This is really serious!"

" I'm gonna find the real culprit and save my tail. I'll get back to—" Chat hung up as the helicopter chased him. We got outside as we saw Chat running.

"Aren't you two gonna chase him?" Officer Rogers questioned as we both looked at each other before we began to sheepishly grin.

"We'll leave it to the experts." We both said with a smile as we both swung away.

*** {Third POV} ***

Chat Noir went in a subway as the police cars crashed into each other as he changed back and casually came out the other subway exit as Adrian whistling before he went to hide behind a pole as he pulled his jacket to show Plagg eating his cheese.

"If you want my opinion, I'd say the thief was akumatized." Plagg said, eating.

"That much I had figured." Adrian said as he held up the lolistick he found in the museum. "See that lollipop stick? The sculptor. How did I not see that jealousy coming a mile away?"

"Yours or his?"

"ha ha, real funny. You know I like Y/n."

"That's what they all say." Adrian rolled his eyes as he pushed Plagg back in the pocket.

***

"Gotcha, Copycat." Chat said as he watched from a window, on top of Théo's studio. He went in as he hid behind a wall, looking around before he called Lady Wolf who quickly answered.

"Chat Noir!" Lady Wolf exclaimed as Ladybug stood with her on top of a building as they were looking for him. "Where are you?"

"I found his Den." Chat said.

"Who's?" The two females said.

"My copycat." The two exchanged confused looks.

"We're not getting you."

" If you'd been there this morning the entire time, you'd know what I was talking about."

"Well? Tell us where you are."

"No, this is between me and him. I got myself into this mess, so I'm gonna get myself out." Chat hung up and put his baton away as he picked up a letter from his snooping.

"Cat's in the bag?" Chat Noir repeated confused as he looked at the box before it bursted as metals came out and chained his wrists. "Cataclysm!" Before he could touch the metal chains, Copycat appeared and put his hand on a box, wasting his one shot.

"I don't get what Lady Wolf sees in you." Copycat said. "A fool who so easily falls into my trap." Chat Noir reached his hand towards his back to get his staff, but didn't feel it there. "Looking for this?" Copycat held Chat's baton.  "Which one should I pick up? My one or my one?" Chat's baton began to ring as Copycat answered to see Lady Wolf.

"Lady Wolf, Ladybug, hurry up. I've caught the impostor at Théo Barbot's workshop." Copycat said as Chat Noir struggled in the chains.

"We'll be there in thirty seconds." Lady Wolf  said as they ran quicker.

"Don't come here, Ladybug! Lady Wolf! It's a trap!" Chat Noir yelled in vain as Copycat ended the call.

"Too late, Cat. Ladybug and Lady Wolf's their way, which was my plan all along." Copycat grinned.

"They won't be duped."  Chat grinned. "They know me too well."

"I know you too well." Copycat said as he looked at his photo. "And for now on, Lady Wolf will only love me, Not you!"

"Love me?" Chat repeated confused before regaining his grin. "Right! She loves me! That's why she'll be able to reveal your true identity!" Copycat frowned as he put the photo back in his pocket before knocking Chat to the ground, taking his hand to take the ring off before the two heroines came in.

"Chat!" Lady Wolf exclaimed running up to the two as Copycat looked at her, lovesick. "Wow, he looks exactly like you."

"That's because I am me!" Chat said.

"Where's his akuma?" Ladybug asked.

"Inside his ring, of course." Copy cat said, pointing at it. "Go ahead, grab it." Copycat gestured for her to take the ring from Chat's hand. Lady Wolf kneeled down on her knee, holding Chat's hand as she reached for the ring before seeing a paw come off and stopping. "He even has the same powers as you." She said to Copycat, suspiciously.

"If you don't believe I'm the real Cat Noir, ask him about our love for each other." Chat said with a grin as Lady Wolf flushed in red.

"L-Love?"

"Have I ever lied to you, Mon loup aimant." Lady Wolf blushed looking into Chat's eyes as she regained her color, putting on a smirk as she let go of his wrist, leaning in to Copycat.

"You didn't tell him, right?" She asked as Copycat began to get flustered.

"What?" Copycat stuttered out.

"You know," Lady Wolf said, touching his cheek. "Our little secret."

"A-uh, no. Of course not!" Copycat grinned.

"We don't have a little secret." Lady Wolf whispered.

"What?"

"Copycat!" Lady Wolf got up pointing a accusing finger at Copycat.

"I love you, Lady Wolf!" Copycat yelled, angrily. "I'm way better than this mangy alley cat!" He grabbed Chat.

"Sorry but liars are losers." Ladybug grinned.

"And Chat may come up with the most randomest jokes in the universe at the worst times, but he wouldn't lie or pretend to be something he isn't." Lady Wolf said.

"Thanks for the compliment." Chat grinned. "I think?" Chat pushed Copycat off of him and kicked him to the wall as he stood.

"If I can't have you, then nobody will!" Copycat yelled. "Cataclysm!"

"Let's wrap this up!" Ladybug said. "Lucky Charm!" A spoon appeared and dropped on Ladybug's hand. "A spoon?" Copycat began to charge towards Chat Noir as Lady Wolf glanced at the chains holding him and grinned, acting quickly as she grabbed the chains, standing in front of Copycat, making him touch the chains, freeing Chat Noir as he kicked him to the wall.

"Nice going, mi'lady."

"Where's his akuma?" Ladybug asked.

"The photo in his pocket." Chat said. "Let's make it snappy."

"Ha ha ha! You're going to change back before me." Copycat laughed as the two cats began fighting before Ladybug joined and fought him before leaping  on top of a pole as Chat resumed fighting.

"He's pretty good." Ladybug admitted.

"Even I got to admit that." Lady Wolf said, as she dodged another attack.

"Don't need to rub it in." Chat frowned.

"I told you I was better than him." Copycat grinned holding both his and Chat's baton before Lady Wolf kicked his out of his grips as Ladybug used her yoyo to hand it to Chat who catched it.

"But we're better than the both of you!" The two girls exclaimed as they had a wide grin. Ladybug dropped and grabbed Chat's arm right before he could punch.

"Hey! It's me!" Chat exclaimed.

"He's lying! I'm the real one!" Copycat exclaimed as the two girls stood frustrated.

"Now you're both annoying me to pieces!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Show me your rings." Lady Wolf said. "How many pads do you have left?" Chat gladly showed his ring to see one pad left blinking as Copycat was reluctant to show his rings as they soon saw was three pads left. Ladybug released her hold on Chat.  "Chat Noir, Scratch Attack!"

"Gladly." Chat grinned, bringing his claws out. "I love a good cat fight." He meowed as he began fighting Copycat as Ladybug used her lucky vision  and it shows her Cat Noir's staff, a wooden rod, her yo-yo and the spoon. Ladybug uses these to make a fishing rod while Cat Noir used his feet to prevent Copycat from attacking and Cat Noir winks as he unzips the pocket that has the photo.

"Time to go akuma fishing!" Ladybug grinned as she uses the fishing rod to lift Copycat into the ceiling and Lady Wolf jumps, tying the string to make sure he doesn't do anything as she grabbed the photo, ripping it as she came down. "No more evil doing for you, little akuma." Ladybug opened her yoyo. "Time to de-evilize! Gotcha!" She purified the akuma as she released it. "Bye bye, little butterfly. Miraculous Ladybug!" Everything turned back to normal as Chat caught Théo, letting him down slowly.

"Nice catch." Lady Wolf grinned as the two girls came up to Chat Noir.

"So glad you guys can tell the real cat from the fake one." Chat smiled.

"Once I figured out which cat was the one I truly lo- knew." Lady Wolf covered.  "It's a no brainer." Chat's ring began to ring as did Ladybug's earing.

"Better help the fella out." Chat said to Lady Wolf. "His crush just got crushed."

"I'll be going now too." Ladybug said, as they both left the two as Théo sat up, rubbing his head.

"What am I doing here?" Théo asked as Lady Wolf kneeled down to meet him. "Lady Wolf?"

"I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to really speak to you this morning." Lady Wolf said, holding his photo out for him as Théo stumbled to get his pen from his pocket, handing it to Lady Wolf.

"Can you autograph it for me?" Théo asked as Lady Wolf smiled, her Y/n side showing.

"Sure!" She took the pen and signed the photo. "You've got some real artistry here. You've really captured my essence."  She chuckled, giving the pen and photo back to him.

"Thank you, Lady Wolf." Théo smiled. "And don't worry. I know about you and Cat Noir. It's okay." Lady Wolf blushed confusedly.

"Huh?"

*** {Y/n's POV} ***

I helped look for Adrian's phone as I soon gave up and waited for him outside the locker room.

"Did you find it?"  I asked as he came out with a down face and shook his head.

"No," Adrian sighed. "Let's go home."

***

"Maybe you dropped it somewhere." Nino said as Adrian told him about his missing phone as they, including Y/n and Maya walked out in the classroom.

"That, or maybe you missed a place." Maya offered as they stopped in front of Adrian's seat as Adrian and Nino sat down as Maya and Y/n sat in the seats next to them, neither of them noticing Marinette slip his phone back in his bag as it dropped. Adrian looked down, shocked to see his phone.

"What the-" Adrian said. "I looked in there at least a thousand times." Y/n looked at the bag suspiciously.

"So did I, I was sure it wasn't in the bag."

"You need some time off,  both of you." Nino said, as Maya nodded.

"Hey, I know, let's go to the movies tonight!" Maya suggested.

"Hey, dudes, mind if a few friends tag along?" Alya asked from behind them.

"Sure thing!" Nino exclaimed as Adrian and Y/n smiled at the two girls.

[litwitlady]

Send Me Home (1/?)

Read on AO3.

‘The Braves are down to their last at bat, Jeff. And it’s Michael Guerin in the on-deck circle. What’s Ramon’s strategy here? Does he try to jam him up inside or keep firing fastballs and hope Guerin can’t catch up?’

It’s September in Atlanta and the Braves are playing the Marlins. Every game counts as both teams vy for a spot in October baseball. Michael Guerin is a lead candidate for MVP, and he’s always a threat in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and the bases loaded. The sellout crowd roars as his walk-up music begins to play.

I was born to the desert And to the desert I’ll return Sun-soaked and leathered Tattered and tethered Send me home, send me home, send me home

‘Ramon’s got that curveball, Chip. I’m not sure Guerin’s ever met a fastball he couldn’t hit. Especially in the bottom of the ninth. So, I think Ramon starts with the curveball even if that’s exactly what Guerin’s expecting.’

Michael steps into the batter’s box and takes a couple of quick practice swings, eyes wide and watching Ramon’s every move. He squares his hips and lowers his hands on the bat just a touch. It’s an adjustment he’s been working on for the past month or so with great success. Ramon lets loose his first pitch. As expected, it’s a nasty curveball and a pitch Michael has struck out on more than once during his twelve year career. But this time he’s prepared and anticipates perfectly where the bottom of the curve will land. He shoots a laser to shallow right field, and it drops in for a walk-off single. The dugout empties and everyone tackles him as he crosses home plate, one game closer to October.

--------

Later that night, Michael sits on the tailgate of his Chevy, beer in hand and staring up at the stars like so many nights before. Several of the guys had harassed him about going out to celebrate, but he’s not in the mood. He’s never in the mood these days. The winning still feels good and the possibility of the MVP is a dream. But for a long time now, he’s felt like there’s something missing in his life. Something essential, something elusive, something just out of his reach.

The truth is that he’s lonely. It’s a truth he can admit to himself when he’s alone underneath the cosmos watching the stars blink down at him against the wide expanse of space.

There have been relationships along the way. Women he’s dated earnestly. Once upon a time, maybe even a couple he could have loved. When he was younger, there had also been a few men. But none recently. The deeply rooted homophobia of baseball to blame. Mostly anyway. It’s strange now - everyone knows he’s bisexual, a simple Google search is all it takes. But he’s fairly certain baseball collectively decided to ignore his sexuality altogether after he got called up to the majors all those years ago.

He wants to believe he’s not afraid to be seen with men. He tells himself it’s just simpler this way, less complicated. Fewer awkward questions and the focus remaining on his athletic abilities rather than his sex life. Besides, only two major league players have ever come out and they both only did so after they’d retired. He supposes maybe he counts as the third. It’s not the stuff of fairytales, and Michael had learned that lesson during his brief stint in Double-A ball.

That feels like a lifetime ago.

Alex Manes’ new album drifts through the truck’s windows. His low, throaty voice practically purring into Michael’s ears. He’s been a big fan of Alex and his music for several years now. They’re both from New Mexico and the way he sings about the desert rings true enough to Michael that listening to one of his songs sends him right back home. Despite their many issues, he misses his brother and sister so badly sometimes he can barely breathe. Alex’s music reminds him of all the things and all the people he’s left behind - for better or worse. A couple of years ago, he’d had the opportunity to see Alex perform live but he’d turned it down. He still can’t explain why.

The night stretches out before him. Beer and music lulling him into a peaceful sleep until a bright light flashes in his face and startles him awake. He sits up and raises his hands peacefully. ‘Hey, Ernie.’

‘Oh, Mr. Guerin. I didn’t recognize you. What are you still doing here? It’s past midnight.’ He clicks the flashlight off and clips it back onto his belt. ‘Congrats on the walk-off!’

Michael shrugs. ‘Thanks. Didn’t want to go home just yet. Like watching the stars at night. But I haven’t seen you in a while. The grandkids still running circles around you?’

‘You know it! Caleb just turned five and is a holy terror. Michelle is eight going on eighteen. I can barely get a word in edgewise between the two of them.’ His eyes shine even in the darkness, crinkling at the edges.

Michael’s heart aches at Ernie’s easy, simple joy, but he manages a genuine smile thanks to the night’s shadows softening the edges of his jaw. ‘That sounds nice.’ He hops off his tailgate. ‘I’ll get out of your hair. Got an early game anyway. Need to get some sleep.’

‘Well, now, don’t let me chase you off. I don’t mind the company. It gets a little spooky at night. You can always come knock on my door if you ever need anything.’ Ernie opens the Chevy’s door for Michael and shuts it behind him. ‘All these other guys with their flashy sports cars and you in this old rust bucket. You’re a weird one, Mr. Guerin. But I like that about you.’

Michael runs his hands around the cracked steering wheel. ‘Most days this truck is about the closest thing to home I’ve got. There’s still desert dirt in the bed and an engine I rebuilt myself. What the fuck would I do with a Ferrari?’

They both laugh and Michael waves and honks his horn as he pulls out of the player’s lot. The streets are mostly empty, cars keeping to the well-lit interstate at night. He decides to stay on surface roads and take the long way home, radio softly playing old country songs. His thoughts drift to tomorrow’s game and the rookie pitcher the Marlins are starting. His own rookie year had been tough, and he makes a mental note to speak to the kid at some point during the game, ask him how he’s doing and if he’s being treated well.

The streetlights along Peachtree illuminate his path through Brookhaven. He crosses into Atlanta city limits and enters Buckhead just as ‘Lay Me Down’ by Loretta Lynn and Willie Nelson starts to play through his speakers. And all too soon, he turns down his street and opens the cedar gate at the end of his driveway, parking his truck and sitting in the darkness until the song comes to an end.

Climbing out of his truck, he unlocks the front door with his telekinesis, slipping inside quietly and deactivating his alarm system. He’d bought the house in foreclosure, spending most of his money on remodeling the mid-century ranch. It’s not extravagant, but it’s the most expensive thing he owns. He’d even let Isobel fly out to decorate the place within a very strict budget, and he’d had to admit she’d done a great job - one side of his front door Atlanta, the other side New Mexico.

But even so, it has never felt like home.

The first few nights he’d spent in the house had been rough. It was too quiet and too soft and too much. More than once he’d grabbed his ancient, worn sleeping bag and crawled into the bed of his truck. Sleeping hard on the uncomfortable. ribbed metal but beneath the stars he loved so much. The morning dew waking him with the sun each morning.

These days he manages to sleep in bed at night, but only because he’d installed two skylights overhead so that the stars would always be his. And only his. He rarely brings anyone home anymore, preferring their house to his. But when he does, he takes them to a guest bedroom. None of them ever seem to mind how empty the space is or how devoid of personality. Four blank walls and a lone bed filling the room. Why would they? It’s not Michael the foster kid from the desert they’re sleeping with. It’s Michael Guerin the multi-millionaire first baseman with the single-season home run record and the aw-shucks, good boy smile.

Tonight he doesn’t bother turning on any lights. He just pads through the kitchen to grab an apple and a bottle of water, undresses and climbs into bed. He takes a large bite of the granny smith and pulls out his phone, calling Isobel.

‘Congrats on the walk-off!’ He can hear another game in the background. Isobel had never watched a baseball game in her life - including any of his - until the day he’d gotten drafted right out of high school. But now she watches all of them. Or as many of them as possible. Her scouting reports are better than anything stamped official and readily available in the team clubhouse.

‘Thanks. Didn’t really see the ball that well tonight, though. Is Max there?’ It’s stupid to ask when he already knows the answer.

‘Out with Liz. They’ve been inseparable ever since she moved back to Roswell. It’s gross and I miss you.’ The sound on her tv goes silent and he knows she’s settling in for a long conversation. ‘Tell me about tomorrow. Any surprises?’

‘No. New kid on the mound just called up. Got a mean slider. Torres has some pain in his wrist so he’ll be benched.’ Michael finishes his apple in two large bites and guzzles his water, listening to Isobel pound away at her keyboard already deep in research mode. ‘Might get me moved up to the number two slot.’

They spend fifteen minutes strategizing. It’s what they do most nights. Isobel critiquing the numbers based on intuition and her own database of knowledge concerning the human psyche, while he runs statistical analyses and probabilities in his head faster than humanly possible. Michael suggests more than once that she’d make a great scout and that maybe when he retires they can go into business together. He’s told her this a million times, but she only laughs him off and reminds him that she already has a job.

‘A worthless job that doesn’t pay you what you deserve.’ He reaches for the tv remote on his nightstand but can’t find it. Not that it matters. He switches the television on with his mind and nods his head through the channels, stopping on an old western and muting the volume.

‘Philanthropy is not worthless, Michael!’ She sighs loudly to punctuate her exasperation. ‘And my salary is not the point - the point is helping people. Besides, I have all of Noah’s money and can negotiate more pay any time I choose.’

That he believes. ‘How’d your date go last night?’ Asking Isobel about her date absolutely means she’ll push him to share something just as personal. But it was her first official date with a woman and he genuinely wants to know how it went. No matter the price he’ll pay.

‘Really, really, really well.’ He can hear the grin in her voice and it makes him smile. ‘She’s a cardiologist and very good with her hands. Valenti makes a pretty superb matchmaker. Maybe I’ll ship him your way because you could certainly use the help.’

Michael rolls his eyes and fakes a groan. ‘You can keep Valenti. Don’t you think it’s weird to have your ex setting you up on dates? Do you really think he’s the best judge of character?’

‘Kyle knows me better than most. He was my first relationship after Noah and he put up with a lot. I trust him implicitly with my heart and yours. Plus, I was the one who broke up with him.’

‘My heart is fine, thanks.’ He lies smoothly and knows exactly how she’s going to respond.

‘I can’t stand the thought of you all the way across the country in that foreign place with no one to go home to at night.’

He snorts. ‘It’s called Georgia, Iz. And I’m not home enough for a relationship to work right now.’

‘Half the guys on your team - on any team! - are married. So that’s a pisspoor excuse. You keep pushing everyone away. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know you, Michael. As soon as you start to feel something, the doors slam shut and you become another stereotypical lonewolf cowboy.’ Her voice is loud now, vehement and self-righteous. They’ve reenacted this scene so many times it feels very paint by number at this point. ‘I hardly ever hear a smile in your voice anymore.’

She’s right and she knows it. He used to love dating, meeting new people. First kisses and first fucks. Last kisses and farewell fucks. He lived for those moments and now he hardly ever looks anyone in the eye. ‘We have this conversation at least once a month. And nothing has changed. It’s too hard right now, Iz. I’m too known to ever really be known. Not the way I would want to be. Not in any way that I would trust.’

There’s no use arguing so they move on to easier topics. Max and LIz’s ongoing romance, details of Isobel’s date, Maria’s remodel of the Pony thanks to a very generous anonymous donation. Every word out of her mouth squeezes his heart a little bit tighter until it’s too much and he says goodnight.

Flipping onto his side, he reaches his arm out to the other side of the bed, running his hand over the cold, unwrinkled sheet. His eyes land on the empty pillow no head ever touches and tries to imagine a face looking back at him. A face that might smile suggestively or quietly murmur goodnight. But he’s unable to conjure anything beyond a blank, shapeless outline. It makes him feel pathetic so he yanks the pillow underneath his own head and forces his eyes shut, trying in vain to quiet his mind. Despite his best efforts, sleep takes its sweet time finding him.

The next morning he’s exhausted but gets to the field early. He’d woken up to a cryptic message from Isobel. There’s a surprise waiting for you after the game! Stick around this time, Michael. Don’t make me get on a plane. He’s sure that can’t mean anything good, but he attempts to put it out of his mind for now.

The ballpark is already bustling with activity. Michael heads into the clubhouse to change. He stops and asks Stan, their hitting coach, for some extra work before the rest of the team arrives. He’s worried about how he’s been shifting his wrists recently and wants someone else’s opinion. The adjustments he’d made last night seem to be working, but he’s worried about straining a muscle or tweaking the wrong tendon. Two of his teammates are already on the IL with wrist pain. He doesn’t want to be next, especially with the postseason race and his run at MVP on the line.

Michael finds Danny Marks asleep in one of the clubhouse’s leather chairs. He swats him on the head on the way to his locker, laughing at Danny’s loud yelp. ‘Fuck, man, you’re always asleep. How did you manage to stay awake on the mound long enough to put together two Cy Young seasons?’

‘Talent, Guerin. Talent. You should try it sometime. Maybe then you’ll win MVP.’ Danny yawns and stretches his arms over his head. Michael glares at him. ‘Don’t worry. You’re still the favorite. Our very own diamond darling. No one else is getting their own personal concert any time soon.’

‘What?’ He sits on the chair at his locker, blinking at Danny in confusion. ‘Personal concert?’ Isobel’s strange text message flashes through his head again while he inwardly groans.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Danny grins and crosses his ankles on the table in front of him, brashly enjoying the way Michael squirms. ‘Alex Manes is traveling down from Nashville just for you - baseball’s most beloved first baseman.’ He throws a toy football at Michael’s head, chuckling when it bounces off his curls. ‘He’s not bad looking, you know.’

‘Stop.’ Danny is Michael’s best friend on the team and the only one he feels comfortable enough to have this conversation with. ‘Whose idea was this? Did Isobel do something? Or was this you?’

Michael doesn’t want this. Not at all. And he can’t exactly explain why. Music is personal to him - profoundly personal. Always has been since he was nothing but an unloved kid trapped in various violent foster homes. It was music that had kept him warm at night and music that had loved him best. The only escape available to him during most of his darkest hours.

Over the years, there have been many artists he’s considered favorites. Most of them old country crooners or folk song heroes. Much like Alex Manes. But with Alex, it’s something more. Something he has a hard time vocalizing. They are both from New Mexico. Both spent a chunk of their formative years in Roswell. Michael has read or watched multiple interviews with Alex where he’s alluded heavily to an abusive father. His lyrics certainly do the same. Lots of kids grow up that way - Michael knows he’s not alone in that particular fate - but the way Alex puts that pain to music settles something inside his chest that has never been settled before.

So the thought of meeting Alex worries Michael. They say don’t meet your heroes for a reason. In his head, Alex represents a sense of safety, a sense of home. What happens when they meet and that’s taken from him? Because maybe Alex is a liar. Or maybe he’s a dick. Either possibility is very real. He’s also a vet, and Michael hates, hates, hates the military. And he doesn’t want to hate Alex. Doesn’t want to lose his music. Cannot emotionally afford to lose his music if he’s being honest.

‘Isobel apparently knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. I just didn’t try and stop her. Or Lena.’ Danny’s wife is Isobel’s favorite human. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to Michael since meeting Danny. The two of them have done nothing but make his life one unasked for surprise after another. ‘Besides, even if you hate it, the team could really use some fun before heading into the postseason. Some good old-fashioned team bonding, my friend. And this time, you don’t get to run away. The guys need to see their captain smile every once in a while.’

Michael sighs and changes into his warmups. Danny’s phone rings and he grins one last time at Michael before disappearing for some privacy. Michael decides to push Alex Manes to the back of his mind and concentrate on the game ahead of him. Stan is waiting, anyway. So he’ll focus on his wrists for now and worry about everything else later. The one thing he does do, however, is pull out his phone and send Isobel a very pointed text.

You should have gotten my permission first.

Isobel’s text response is nothing but the angel halo emoji. Michael wishes his telekinesis was strong enough to travel across state lines because he’d like to throw her phone into the wall. Since that option is not available to him, he sends Max a text instead.

Your sister is a menace.

He pockets his phone, not bothering to wait on an answer. Max tends to be too busy these days. Not that that’s anything new really. Unless your name is Liz Ortecho or Isobel Evans, he doesn’t have much time for you.

The morning stretches by as gametime approaches. Batting practice goes well and Michael works with Stan on keeping his wrists from turning too much when he swings. His teammates have all found out about the concert by the time the first pitch is thrown and none of them will let him forget it. Each time his walk-up music begins to play, Danny leads a small group of particularly bad vocalists in a sing-a-long. All of them belting out the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Michael tries to keep the stupid grin off his face and almost suceeds.

He won’t admit it, but he actually begins to get excited. Doesn’t even mind when Max only ends up responding with a snarky text.

Try living less than five miles from her.

He’d give anything to live five miles from Isobel. Michael loves his teammates. He really does. Atlanta has one of the best team dynamics in baseball. Maybe the best. They support each other, love one another, and when they say family, they mean it. Team dinners and family outings are normal even during the off season. Michael doesn’t avoid spending time with them because he dislikes anyone - although there have been various tiffs in the past but nothing long lasting. He avoids them because he loves them enough to let his mouth loosen too much, all his secrets threatening to tumble out with no regard for his safety or the safety of his siblings.

He knows this because it has happened on more than one occasion. Years ago during his rookie years when living hard and drinker harder were his nightly norm. On any given night you’d find him at the bar, four fingers deep into a bottle of bourbon, mouthing off about moving things with his mind. It wasn’t the booze talking; it was his loneliness. The throbbing homesick ache in his chest that only Max and Isobel could smooth away. Once he knew his teammates were shitfaced, he’d let some little comment slip about his abilities. Half of them never paid any attention to the things he said and the other half merely laughed at him.

He’d told Isobel one night about the things he said and she’d yelled at him solidly for an hour. The next day he’d gotten a nasty phone call from Max and has kept his mouth shut ever since that conversation.

Keeping their secret is important. Michael understands that, but the lying exhausts him. He loves Danny and hates that the most important part of himself Danny and Lena can never know. He loves his other teammates, and he doesn’t want to hide this huge part of himself from them forever. The lying has always made him feel unclean - distant and deceptive. Back in Roswell, it had been easier. He hadn’t had many friends and the people closest to him shared the same secret. But now, the people he sees every single day aren’t allowed to know the real him. It breaks his heart in a way he could never have anticipated, making him feel truly alien.

Michael and Isobel had jumped through enormous hoops to keep his DNA secret from team doctors and drug testers. It’s the only reason he’d ever agreed to her mind influence.

A major league baseball player cannot have telekinetic superpowers, alien or not. The cheating accusations would be immediate and relentless - his career over and his name shamed forever. Regardless of the fact that he would never dream of cheating to advance his career. Besides, he’s self-aware enough - or perhaps cocky enough - to understand that his level of talent doesn’t require any telekinetic assistance. Michael Guerin is just that fucking good.

During his last at bat in the eighth inning, Alex Manes’ face flashes on the digital scoreboard high above centerfield advertising the aftergame concert. Michael concentrates on keeping his wrists tight and imagines that Alex is somewhere in the stadium watching him. He swings at the first pitch - a fastball left too high over the plate - and knows he’s gotten every piece of it by the cracking sound his bat makes. He starts a slow run to first base and watches the ball sail over the leftfield wall. With his signature two claps, he rounds first and enjoys the cheering crowd chanting his name. Stepping on the bag at home plate, his eyes glance back up at the scoreboard, but Alex’s face has disappeared. And suddenly his nerves have returned tenfold at the realization that soon he’ll be face to face with a man he has no idea how to talk to - what to say or even if he’ll get a chance to say anything at all.

Despite the cheers and happy butt slaps from his teammates, the pit in Michael’s stomach stretches wide. In the clubhouse, he checks his phone again and one last final message from Isobel lights up his screen.

He wants to meet you first.

[lizzie-tempest]

I saw an order you made and you could do a part 2 (scenery or headcanons) of Yandere! Sans, but with the other Au! Sans (Underswap, Underfell, Horrortale and Swapfell) when your beloved reader finds out she is pregnant and manages to escape?

No problem!

Underswap

You find out about the pregnancy before Blue does and you know what will happen.  You get out quick because you know that given half the chance, the cute looking skeleton will have you tied up and living out your pregnancy and all of motherhood in some prison. 

You plan on getting far away and things seem to be going well.  But you’ve never been the luckiest person.  And when you arrive at the train station, your luck runs out.

Blue is already there waiting for you.  You recognize that look on his face.  He’s got a big grin on his face and is waving you over.  How did he even find you?  You’re about to run.  But you can see that cold, calculating look in his baby blue eyelights and you’ve never felt more afraid.  

People will stare if you don’t do anything and you’ve learnt in the past how he can manipulate any situation to suit him.  

With great reluctance you walk over to him, his smile falling into a scowl.  He grips your wrist and you can feel the bruise forming from how tight his grip is.  He shoves the pregnancy test in your face.

“Did you really think you could take my own child away from me?” 

You know you’re in trouble when he talks quietly, but you put on a brave face and resign yourself to your fate.  

He was possessive enough already.  He’s not going to let you out of his sight now.

Underfell

Edge calls him while he’s at work and tells him that he saw you getting in a taxi with a suitcase.  This immediately alarms Red.  How did you even get out of his room?  It was locked from the outside!  And where the hell were you going?  Where you cheating on him?  That’s it, isn’t it?  

Furious, Red teleports home and goes up to his room.  Edge was right, your stuff was gone and more importantly, so where you.  He searches around a little, hoping to find a clue as to where you could be going.  

That’s when he finds the pregnancy test in his trashcan.  When he sees that it’s positive, he goes soft.  Aww he was gonna be a dad!  He’s having a little baby bones!  He’s giddy with excitement!  He can’t wait!  And then he becomes worried.  

Where did you go?  Did you think he would react badly and that’s why you left?  Yes, that must be it.  He knows he has a temper and he knows that you have seen what happens to anyone on the receiving end of it.  But he would NEVER hurt you.  Sure, he kidnapped you and held you against your will.  But he made sure you were comfortable!  That’s something, right?

Red knows he has to find you.  He has to make sure that you know that he will never leave you.  He’ll make it known that he’ll love you and your child.  

You scream when he suddenly appears in front of you.  Mating marks can come in handy when trying to find your lost mate.  Red just grins and pulls you close despite your struggles, nuzzling into your neck and purring while he teleports you back home.  He has to get you settled in the nest he made for you~

He can provide for you. He can be a good dad.  He can be a good mate.

At least, he could be if you would just let him.

Horrortale

Hahahahaha!  Oh, you poor thing.  He’s not letting you get away that easily.  Axe catches you trying to sneak out the house.  He’s known for a while.  He could tell something was different about you.  He’s thrilled about the little baby bones on the way.  If only he could get you to behave yourself.  

Ah well.  

He just grins, offering a little wave as you run from the house.  Might as well have one last chase before he has to take you to the safe house he has prepared for just this situation.  You’ll be safe from the outside world there, and so will the baby.  

He gives you a full minute before giving into his instincts and chasing you down.  It’s always fun when you try to escape. 

Unfortunately for you, this little song and dance has happened enough times for the neighbours to stop taking notice of your screams.  They’ve become convinced it’s some kind of game you play.  

So when you scream for help, nobody comes.

Swapfell

Completely befuddled when he finds the pregnancy test and you completely gone.  What is this?!  How could this have happened?!  His brother was supposed to be watching you!  How dare he let you leave!

“Mutt.  Fetch.” 

His brother leaves without another word.  

While Mutt is out searching for you, Black spends his time pacing and staring at the pregnancy test.  Deep down, he knows what it means.  But he wants to hear it from you.

So when Mutt finally shoves you in front of him, he grabs you to stop you from escaping once more.  

“What is this?” His voice is quiet and dangerous, his tone the same as when he is interrogating you about where you’ve been and who you have been around.

You try and make yourself smaller, knowing that it’ll help to get you in his good graces and you quietly explain what it is.  What it means.  

For a few minutes there is silence as Black narrows his sockets at you, glaring into your very soul as he tries to figure out if you’re lying.  But then he starts to grin viciously.  

“AT LAST, MY LOVE!  YOU ARE GIVING ME AN HEIR!  I WILL MAKE THEM INTO A FIERCE WARRIOR!” He declares.  

Your very soul cries out in despair at the thought of your child becoming as cruel and cold-hearted as their father and you start to sob, pleading with him to let you go.  

He laughs at your tears, as he always does and pulls you close, brushing the hair from your eyes and wiping the tears from your cheeks as he coos.  He plays the part of a devoted lover too well.

“Don’t worry, my dear.  I will keep you safe until our child is born.  And then their training will begin!  And we will both be able to keep you safe from this awful world we live in!”

Black and Mutt both start to guide you into the basement and you shake as you take in the pillows and blankets.  They’ve made the basement into one big nest.  Black has been prepared for this for a long time.

The two skeletons shove you in and close the door, locking it and ensuring that you won’t be able to escape once more.

It’s very easy to block out your screams.  Now all Black has to do is wait until you submit to him.  A few days without food won’t do the baby too much harm.  

[catcodemon]

i FINALLY finished the inky n marauder fluff. please clap.

[ao3 link]

The creature is, in his opinion, very...perturbing.

He is accustomed to creatures of similar size. Even his loyal wolf is to scale with him. The demons he has confronted and has since abandoned were sizable. Even the Slayer himself was proportionate to him--albeit, shorter. The mech, Vega, is taller than the Slayer, but still barely reaches the Marauder’s shoulder height.

The pet is only approximately the size of his head, he estimates. Something so small and fragile should not exist in such a hostile environment. Though, he supposes, the haven of the Fortress provides the needed safety for the fragile thing. 

The first time he follows the Slayer back to the Fortress, the jet-black, furry thing runs up to the man and practically wrapps itself around his legs. A long tail, curled at the tip, slides around his leg as the little thing weaves between the marine’s legs. 

He physically wrinkles his lip at it, glaring at it intensely. “What the hell is that?”

Vega hums, amused, as the Slayer stoops over to pick up the creature. “That,” his warm voice informs the Marauder, “is our loyal feline. Inky.”

His eyes squint at the wriggling black mass in the Slayer’s arms. The man seems oblivious to the warrior’s scrutiny, instead focusing on rubbing the cat’s face with bulky, gauntlet-covered fingers. The cat--he refuses to give that thing a name--wiggles happily, batting at the fingers and rubbing its face against them.

“She has residency seniority over you,” Vega teases. “She has the right-of-way.”

“She will have no issues with me, should she leave me be,” he grunts out, looking pointedly away. 

“I cannot guarantee that,” Vega warns. 

The Marauder glares at the mech. “I cannot guarantee that thing’s safety, if it comes near.”

Immediately, the Slayer tenses. His head whips around to lock onto the Marauder’s form, eyes damn near glowing with restrained anger. His body tenses, Inky sensing the change in his disposition as well and wriggling out of his suddenly-tight grip. 

He curls his lip. “Does she really mean that much to you two? A measly animal?”

“Well,” Vega tries to reason, purposefully placing himself between the two warriors, “Inky is very good at easing the Slayer’s thoughts when they delve into uncanny valleys,” he proposes. “She is a good distraction and source of comfort for both him and myself, truth be told.”

Something reluctantly clicks in his mind: if he wishes to stay with them, it is positively necessary that he grows used to her. 

“Fine,” he snarls. “Do not expect an overwhelming welcome to her,” he adds. “I’ve no time for such a feeble, fragile thing.”

Vega chuckles affably. “With your bristly exterior, I doubt she will even want to bother you,” he offers. “Perhaps that is a good thing?”

The Marauder huffs petulantly. 

⁂

He grows accustomed to seeing the cat wandering the Fortress. While her coloring oftentimes leaves him squinting into the shadows to see if she’s truly there, he does notice her. He notices that she slinks around after the Slayer when he is present, then waits patiently with Vega in the main room until he returns from a mission. She spares him no attention, at first--just how he likes it. 

The cat’s behavior is both predictable and erratic. He knows what times she will start to fuss as she waits to be fed. He knows what places she likes to curl up and sleep in. He knows what toys she prefers to carry around and play with, by now. 

He also knows that she is growing interested in him. 

At first, she would skitter away from him, were he to approach. None of the times were him necessarily approaching her; rather, something different that she was between. Claws would scrabble on the hard floor as she struggled to get traction enough to tear away, her feet making soft thumps as she ran. 

Now, however, she grows braver. He catches her intently watching him as he makes his way around the Fortress. He notices that she only scoots to the side enough to let him by as he walks. 

Against even his iron-will, he feels some part of him soften to her advances. Acknowledging her questioning sounds, idly flicking a toy for her to chase when it stops near him--little things that he desperately hopes go unnoticed.

He is cleaning his armor one day when he first feels it. Something...ticklish, brushing against his exposed arm. Reflexively, he goes to swat away whatever it is, but pauses when the thing lets out a familiar mrrp!

Ah. She’s finally gotten brave enough.

When he looks over, her eyes meet his. Piercing green, even in the dim light of the armory. She lets out another questioning sound as they lock gazes, rubbing her head more firmly against his arm. 

He looks to his hands. Blood-stained, battle-worn-- tools of death. How many lives has he claimed with them? He frowns at the ragged claws at the tips. Does he have the delicacy to respect her, with a body meant for destruction?

Of course he does, he decides. The Slayer is a bloodthirsty killer as well, and he manages to be gentle enough on her. Hands that quite literally ripped demons in halves could still be controlled enough to allow gentle caresses.

One clawed hand extends to her. Her ears perk up at the gesture, her neck stretching as she leans forward to sniff. He barely feels her whiskers tickling his fingertips before he’s baffled.

The cat leans fully into his hand, preening and standing on her tip-toes, eyes slitting closed happily. 

He is taken aback, at first. How long has it been since he was gentle with something, apart from his wolf? He supposes there have been a lot of changes lately, and this is no different. Gently, he drags his nails down her spine, feeling the thick, black fur ruffle underneath. 

Suddenly, a rumble starts up from within her. A growl? A snarl? Regardless, he snatches his hand away immediately. She looks to him, confused, head slightly tilted to the side.

Scowling at her, he puts his armor aside and goes to find someone.

***

“Your...feline,” he starts. “Is she normally so aggressive?”

Vega and the Slayer look at him curiously. The Slayer’s brows knit together as he listens to him continue.

“I attempted to ‘soothe’ her, earlier,” he explains, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And she immediately started growling. Does she do this to you?”

“‘Growling’?” Vega queries. “She is not known to be like that. Did you upset her somehow?”

“Of course not!” the Marauder snarls petulantly. 

‘What were you doing?’ 

“Simply touching her,” he grumbles. “She came up seeking attention. I gave it to her.”

Vega’s face positively lights up when he finishes. “Oh! Marauder, she was not being hostile towards you,” his voice is bright and excited. “That’s her way of expressing happiness and pleasure--she purrs!”

He knows what purring is. Hell, he’s been accused of purring when content. He ponders it for a moment while Vega continues.

“Purring means she feels safe and happy,” he chortles. “She was not growling--she was pleased!”

As if on cue, Inky trots into the room, tail high and curled at the tip. When she sees the three of them, her ears straighten, and she starts to chitter excitedly.

‘Watch this,’ the Slayer beckons. He leans over, wiggling his fingers to her, drawing her over quickly. When in range, he picks her up, cradling her against his chest, scratching her chin. She does the same thing she had done with the Marauder just before: her eyes slit closed, she wriggles into the touch, and the low rumble starts up once more.

“You’re telling me,” he blurts, “that she ‘growls’ when happy?”

“To put it simply, yes.”

He steps over to the Slayer, gently laying a hand on Inky’s back to feel the rumble for himself. Her entire body seems to vibrate with the ferocious purring.

“How backwards,” he grunts, taking his hand back. 

“Different creatures have different ways of expressing happiness,” Vega offers. “Your wolf wags its tail when happy. The Slayer smiles. Inky purrs.”

A quick glance proves that yes, the Slayer is smiling smugly at him.

With a final flustered huff, he bids goodbye and goes to the main control room. Gazing out the bay windows, he considers what had happened. So, she was not being irritable...which meant he was doing something right.

⁂

The next time she appears to him, he’s prepared. 

This time, he is just returning from a much-needed outing. The Slayer and Vega had stayed at the base, leaving him to his own doings. 

As he enters the portal back to the Fortress, he immediately spots Inky. She is sitting on the console, tail curled neatly around her paws as she watches. As soon as she spots him, she lets out a chortle, tail straightening up as she stands. At first, he walks by her. She voices her displeasure with a pitiful whine, following after him.

He lets out a grunt, waving a hand at her. “Let me clean off first.”

She persists, following him to the armory once more as he puts his axe aside. A quick scrubdown removes any gore and viscera from his armor and body, leaving him suitable, at least to his standards.

In the doorway, she waits patiently. When he approaches, she stands, arching her back excitedly. Almost automatically, he stoops over and gently scoops her up off the floor, cradling her in the crook of one bulky arm. His free hand moves to ruffle her fur, which she leans into wholly.

He carries her out, intending to sit down in one of the chairs circling the data consoles as he mulls over his day. She does not fight his grip, going slack like putty. He settles down, now placing her in his lap. Instantly, she curls up into a ball, once again rumbling--purring--happily. His claws run through her fur smoothly, relishing in the way she squirms contentedly against the touches. 

He supposes he could get use to this.

[mnemememory]

speechless

spoilers for episode 87

.

Caleb has been living in a constant state of delirium for approximately three days and forty-seven minutes.

He is dehydrated, exhausted, and going to throw up on the next person who looks at him even a little bit funny. This entire field trip has been a nightmare sketched straight from everything Caleb had never wanted. Frankly, the only way this could be worse was if Astrid decided to hop on by, and at this point, Caleb won’t disregard it. The world apparently has a personal vendetta against him. Well, him and his new family – but mostly him.

“Impressive business, isn’t it?” Trent Ikithon says, smiling. In every fever-dream memory Caleb has of him, Trent is always smiling. “You’ve come so far from simple sellswords and pit fighters.”

He looks at Yasha, and Caleb feels something foreign and uncomfortable squirm in his stomach.

Then Trent is looking at him, and he’s still smiling, and Caleb can’t look away.

“Especially you, Bren.”

Bren.

Bren.

The name comes from so far away. It takes Caleb a moment to recognise it, the sound foreign to his ears. It has been so long since he discarded that name – it fits awkwardly around his throat, now, like a noose. Trent is smiling at him and it’s so familiar and alien.

Bren.

Bren.

Caleb just stares.

His family surround him, latch onto his sides and glare out at the world. Caleb can barely breathe as Trent makes his smug swanning exit, robes billowing out behind him. Had he always looked like that? Caleb doesn’t remember a lot of things, but he thought he had long-since memorised the lines of Trent Ikathon’s face. From the ridge of his nose to the hard lines of his eyebrows, Caleb has been looking into the face of a phantom since before he lost his mind.

Trent Ikathon looks…different.

“We will not let him get you,” Nott hisses next to him, knuckles white along his robes. “You have done nothing wrong.”

That is very debatable, but Caleb is too tired to protest. They’re all running on fumes. Caleb can see Yasha’s wilting spine, Jester’s forced smile, the darkening shadows underneath Caduceus’ eyes. He wants nothing more than to sleep and never wake up. He wants to leave.

This is bigger than him, though. This is bigger than all of them.

Caleb just nods. He doesn’t trust his mouth at the moment, doesn’t trust that his voice won’t crack and reveal just how unsettled he truly is. Though, from the looks everyone is giving him, he is doing a very poor job at hiding it.

Bren.

That is his name, isn’t it? That is the name his parents gave him, that is the name he knew Astrid underneath. It was not a bad name. Caleb made it into one.

Caleb, or Bren? Are they the same people? Caleb has spent years changing his name at the drop of a hat, at the flip of a coin, at the sight of a smile. Accents are hard to shake, but names can be replaced. It wasn’t until Nott the Brave – until Veth the Breve – that Caleb settled into something semi-permanent. Bren feels like a too-small coat, now, the edges fraying the seams splitting.

“Especially you, Bren.”

What does that mean? What is Caleb supposed to take away from that?

(It is a threat. That is all. It is a threat, it is not a personal judgement, it is not a teacher complimenting growth –)

Caleb’s scars are itching. He wants to dig his nails into his skin and rip it open, until he’s got nothing left but bone. His arms are wrapped tight together, and he scrapes his thumb against the side of his palm – deeper, deeper, deeper. It isn’t enough. Everything is too blunt, too unsteady, too unfocused. They are saying something, the people around him, but Caleb can’t hear any of it. Maybe this is how he dies.

They are walking, soft hands leading him somewhere. Frumpkin leaps from someone’s arms onto his shoulders, wrapping warm fur around his neck and blocking his ears off from the rest of the world. Caleb can’t relax into it, can’t let his shoulder unclench and his spine unsnap or he’s going to break, but he does feel some relief at the new barrier. Frumpkin is warm and large and protective as he purrs into Caleb’s ear until it’s all Caleb can hear. The others are still talking, but they don’t seem to expect any kind of response from him, so Caleb doesn’t even bother trying to track their words.

He always knew this would happen. As soon as they went into Xhorhas – no, before. As soon as they walked through that festival and triumphed in the pit, with Mollymauk still at their side and Yasha smiling without the weight of the world pressing against her throat, Caleb knew that this would happen. Anonymity is for bad people. Heroes are talked about in loud voices, after all, and the Mighty Nein – for all they are a bunch of impulsive fuck-ups – are very good at playing hero.

(They’re just also very good at pissing people off).

Caleb looked into the pit and saw this happening and he did nothing, he did nothing, and this is his fault. He has no one to blame but himself. He walked into Rexxentrum with full knowledge of his place here. They have Yasha back, but they’re also about to be thrown into prison the next time Jester opens her mouth, and Caleb doesn’t know what to do.

“Should I kill him?” Yasha said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Caleb doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. He wants to do both. He feels precariously close to the edge of whatever happened to him all those years ago, with soot smudging his fingertips and sparks blowing high into the stars. He spent years in that hospital, with the screaming. Most of it was his.

He feels like screaming now.

Bren.

Bren.

Bren –

“Caleb?” Nott whispers, reaching up and touching his cheek.

Caleb blinks and looks around. They’re standing in the middle of what appears to a suite of rooms, complete with elaborately carved furniture and a stained glass window. An actual stained glass window. Caleb has an eidetic memory, he knows exactly how much those things cost –

“Caleb, you don’t have to speak, but can you nod your head if you want some water?”

Caleb blinks down at her. Frumpkin is still purring away across his neck and shoulders.

He slowly nods his head.

Nott breathes out a sigh and then leads Caleb over to one of the couches, gently sitting him down. Jester immediately snuggles up next to him, Fjord a strengthening presence on his other side.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Nott says. Her eyes don’t leave Caleb. “Yasha is standing at the door with Beau. They won’t let anyone in. Caduceus is making some food. None of us have eaten for quite a while.”

Caleb nods again, blankly.

Nott clears her throat. “We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Jester hugs him tightly. “It will be okay,” she says.

“If anything happens, we can always run,” Fjord rumbles. “Maybe Allura would let us set up in Ta’dore. Convince the Council to grant us citizenship or something. At the very least, we have income back in Nicodranas.”

“I do not want to run from this,” Caleb says. His voice comes out small and scratchy.

“We will be here with you,” Jester says. “No matter what.”

Caleb has used up all his words. He can’t do anything but nod.

“Caleb,” Nott says. She hasn’t gone to get some water, but Caleb can see Caduceus out of the corner of his eyes brewing tea. Maybe that’s what she’s waiting for. “We will get through this.”

Caleb leans back and closes his eyes and says nothing.

[sweetiepie08]

Time Not Wasted (Part 1)

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance fanfiction. 

Rian, Mira, and Gurjin get a night off of guard duty and decide to spend it at a nearby tavern. As they drink and celebrate their night of freedom, they laugh, make mischief, and create memories that will warm their hearts for years to come. Time is never wasted when it is spent  with the ones you love. 

Part 1. Part 2.

[-]

The Tavern was as alive as ever that night. Gurjin and Rian had made the trek out here many times before, but tonight was special. Mira’s rotation schedule finally matched up with his and Gurjin’s in a way that allowed them to head out to the Castle Shadow Tavern for the night and make it back for their next patrol. The tavern was built within an hour’s walk from the Castle of the Crystal. Rian imagined it was built by some enterprising gelfling who realized the guard would need something to do on their time off other than polishing boots or running drills. It also fell along a well-worn travel road, which made for a good mix of regulars and new-comers.

On this particular night, Rian sat in a booth with Gurjin and Mira. The sounds of chatter and revelry echoed around them. Above it all, Gurjin’s voice rang out, regaling them with his Captain Ordon impression.

“And that, recruits,” he boomed, keeping his back straight as a steel rod and his face stiff as a board, “is why if you don’t polish your boots until you can see your reflection in them, you have failed both as a guard and as a gelfling, and your ancestors will weep in shame.” A mischievous twinkle entered his eye. “Unless you’re Gurjin, of course, in which case, you can do no wrong.”

“Of course…” Rian sighed, hiding an amused smirk in his cup of ale.

“Is all that understood, Mira?” Gurjin went on.

“Yes, Captain,” she answered with mock severity. “The state of my boots will make my ancestors proud.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Rian said, rolling his eyes. “He’ll keep this up all night, and he has.”

“Silence, Rian,” Gurjin commanded, keeping in character. “Don’t disparage your fellow guard. You should be more like Gurjin. He’s loyal, brave, hard-working, handsome…”

Rian let out a burst of laughter. “Stop complimenting yourself in the third-person!”

“Yes, you’ve broken the illusion,” Mira added. “Our captain would never give that much praise. Up until that, though, I thought it was spot on.”

“You thought it was good?” Gurjin asked, sitting down and reverting back to his own voice.

“I did.”

Rian shook his head. “Trust me, it gets old after hearing it five or six hundred times.”

As if accepting a challenge, Gurjin snapped right back into his stiff, upright posture. “Rian, as your father, I must tell you that you need to lighten up a little.”

“Okay, now I know that’s not the captain,” Mira said.

“Sure, I may be stiffer that the Emperor’s beak and believe any smile lasting longer than a third of a second is a sure sign of deception…”

Rian let his gaze linger on a spot just over Gurjin’s shoulder. “Oh, hello father.”

Gurjin practically jumped as he looked behind him. When he saw nothing there, he turned back to his friends with a wry smile. “Ha, ha, very funny…”

Rian flashed him a smirk. “How’s that for lightening up?” he said, taking a drink.

Gurjin made a non-committal sound and conceded defeat by taking a swing from his stein. His eyes shifted to the tavern’s bar, in search of some new amusement. His face broke into a grin when something caught his eye. “Hey, look at those two Spritons over there.

Rian followed his gaze. He saw two Spritons, a male and a female, accepting their drinks from the bar keep. Travelers from Sammi Thicket, he guessed. Both had shiny black hair and were laughing at something one of them had said.

“Got your eye on one of them?” Mira asked.

“Maybe…”

“Which one?”

“Either? Both?” Gurjin shrugged. “What ever their preference is. I’m flexible.”

“Both?” Mira gasped in disbelief. “At the same time?”

Gujin put on a cocky grin. “It’s happened before.”

“Not to you, though,” Rian added. He and Gurjin shot each other the kind of mocking looks only long-time friends can share.  

“Hey, you may have a steady catch, but some of us are still on the hunt,” Gurjin shot back.

“Any gelfling would be lucky to have you,” Mira said warmly.

Rian clapped him on the back. “And half of them don’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to puff me up. I know my worth.” He finished the last of his beer and got up from the table. “Well, I’m going to go try my luck.” With that, he sauntered off to chat up the Spritons.

“Alone at last,” Rian sighed, turning his smile over to Mira.

“You really think he’s going to go for both?” she asked, watching Gurjin approach the Spritons.

“Might have just been bravado, but he’s open to anything, really.” He looked over at Gurjin. Something he said caused the Spritons to burst into a fit of laughter. “As long as he’s happy, I’m rooting for him.”

She looked back at him. Her pale blue eyes were soft and inviting “Have you and Gurjin been friends a long time?”

“We went though training together,” he explained. “We were sparring partners for our first combat exercises. He knocked me down flat quite a few times, but I learned to be quicker and more agile. WE’d taunt each other throughout the session, but it was all in jest. We started bonding outside of training and we’ve been like brothers ever since.”

“I can tell.” She scooted in closer to him. “Must have been nice, being so close to someone here.”

Rian moved in closer as well. “Surely you had friends in the Har’ar guard.”

“I did and I still write them sometimes, but if I had a friendship like yours and Gurjin’s, I might not have transferred.”

“Well,” he said, reaching for her hand, “who says you can’t have that here?”

“You certainly made me feel welcome,” she teased, running her thumb along his knuckles, “what with your, observatory tour and all.”

“Not much of a tour when you beat me up there.”

“Neither was that sparring match,” she said with an impish twinkle in her eye.

“That’s not fair,” he argued in mock-offense. “I was distracted by how beautiful my partner was.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t distracted?” she purred back.

They leaned in closer, seeking to close the gap between them. Rian shut his eyes, waiting for her kiss, but Gurjin’s voice interrupted them.

“Hey Rian, come play darts with me.”

Rian opened his eyes and cast an irritated glance in his friend’s direction. “What happened to the Spritons?”

“Turns out they’re childhood friends who just started going together and I wasn’t about the get in the middle of a love story like that,” he explained. “Come on, just one game. Loser buys the next round.”

“Alright,” Rian said, getting up from the table and following Gurjin to the dart board. “I guess you know my taste in beer well enough.”

“I know liquid gold wouldn’t be enough to satisfy your pretentious tongue,” Gurjin playfully shot back, “not that I’m going to need that knowledge though.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Rian smiled at Mira who watched from their table. “I’ve got someone special cheering me on.”

“I know.” Gurjin handed Rian his darts. “And I doubt you’ll be able to see straight, making those googly eyes.”

Rian and Gurjin took turns tossing darts and exchanging playful insults. Rian kept glancing over at Mira between shots. She looked at him with a sly smirk on her lips. She was always concocting some mischief, he could tell. There was always something up her sleeve, though never anything malicious. Whatever it was, it would surely give them a laugh. He could hardly wait to find out what she was thinking.

By game’s end, Gurjin proved to be the victor. “Ha! Take that you cross-eyed bean pole,” he jeered when his dart hit the bullseye.

“You won by one point,” Rian argued.

“And that was enough to beat you,” Gurjin countered. He pointed Rian in the direction of the bar. “Go on, drink slave.”

“Fine, anything specific?”

“Surprise me,” he said, flashing a mocking grin. “You know my taste in beer well enough.”

“As you wish,” Rian sighed. Gurjin headed back over to the table while Rian went to the bar.

“I think I’ll grab another drink too,” Mira said, getting up. She joined Rian at the bar. He leaned against the counter and waited for the bar keep to take his order. “So,” she said, sliding in next to him, “what are you thinking?”

“I’ll just get him an elm brew,” he said. “That’s one of his favorites.”

“Or you could get him the opposite of his favorite,” she suggested, a wicked smile on her lips.

The tantalizing mischief in her voice tugged at his ears. “What are you saying?”

“The bet was, you buy him a drink,” she explained. “He never said it had to be a drink he liked.”

His wicked smile matched hers as he considered the tempting idea. The look he imagined on Gurjin’s face was entertaining. Ultimately, he decided against it, though. “Nah, that wouldn’t be sporting. I’ll just-”

“You’re taking your sweet time over there!” Gurjin called from across the room.

“What?” Rian snapped, looking back at him.

“I said you’re taking your sweet time over there!” Gurjin called again.

“Hush!” Rian shouted back. He turned back to Mira, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “You know, I started out with the best intentions.”

“You did…” she said, sly smile growing.

“But he had to go flapping his lips.”

“Yup.” She nodded. “He could stand to learn some patience.”

Rian winked at Mira and flagged down the bar keep. “Excuse me, miss,” he said once he had her attention. “What’s the weirdest drink you can make? Like, something you’d have to be out of your mind to order?”

A few minutes later, Rian put a stein full of a greenish-brown liquid down in front of Gurjin. “Uh, what’s this?” Gurjin asked, inspecting the drink from a safe distance.

“You did tell me to surprise you,” Rian said, a rascally gleam in his eye.

“It looks like you dipped the stein in the castle sewers.”

“I can, in fact, verify that Rian got that drink from the bar keep,” Mira added as if she were giving a patrol report.

“Ah, so she’s the one who dipped it in the sewer.”

Mira laughed. “She called it fizzgig dung.”

“How appealing…” Gurjin looked down at the cup as if the name was literal.

“Drink up, pal.” Rian clapped a hand down on Gurjin’s shoulder. “That’s all for you.”

“Alright.” He pulled a face like he was about to single-handedly conduct the deterge. “Here goes nothing.” He lifted the stein and tapped it against his friends’ cups.

“Vliya!” Mira cheered.

“Eh, vliya yourself,” Gurjin grumbled in return.

Rian chuckled. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Eh, shut up.” Gurjin put the drink to his lips and, never one to do anything by halves, swallowed a large gulp. He slammed the stein back down as he gagged and coughed. “Ugh that is rancid,” he said, tears forming in his eyes. He sunk down and put his head on the table. “Someone fetch my mother. I want to go home.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Rian said.

“It can.” Gurjin’s head snapped up. “Why in Thra would you do that to me?”

“I was going to get you an elm,” Rian explained, “but you had to start yapping like a fizzgig. Thought you could use a lesson in patience.”

“Lesson learned.” Gurjiin slid the stein over to Rian. “You try it.”

Rian slid it back. “Why would I want to try it?”

“’This is terrible, you try’”, Mira laughed. “What a compelling argument!”

Rian looked down at the half-empty cup, curiosity seeping into his brain. “I mean… you know what? Okay.”

Mira looked aghast. “You can’t be serious!”

“Well…” Rian shrugged and offered her a half-hearted smile. He really had no explanation other than the solidarity of sharing a disgusting experience with a friend.

As he lifted the drink to his lips, Gurjin shot him a wicked smirk. “Hey Rian,” he said, “Vliya!”

“Yeah, right, Vliya.” Rian drank and felt a burning sensation down his throat. The taste was indescribable. “Ugh, I just drank Arathim poison!” he shouted, slamming the stein down.

Gurjin roared with laughter. “Not so funny now, is it?”

Rian took a sip of his beer, begging for it to wash out the aftertaste. “The name warns you about the taste, but not the burning.”

“No it does not, but hey!” Gurjin slapped Rian on the back. “Think of it as practice for the day you and I try Grotton glow spirit.”

“Uh-huh,” Rian grimaced. “And that’ll be the day I die.”

Gurjin nodded and took a drink from Rian’s beer. “Yup, just dig a grave behind me so I can fall backward into it.”

“Oh, I know about glow spirit,” Mira put in.

“You’ve had it?” Gurjin asked. He looked almost impressed.

“No, but I’ve heard rumors.”

“So have I. Apparently it’s ten times stronger than Uncle Norlan’s secret recipe.”

“Who’s Uncle Norlan?” Mira asked.

“My Uncle Norlan,” said Gurjin.

“Drenchen moonshine,” Rian explained. “I’ve had his uncle’s secret recipe. If glow spirit’s any stronger, it’ll melt the spires off the Castle of the Crystal.”

Mira grinned. “Well, in that case, we have to try it.”

“Yes, but until then, what do you say we wash the taste out of our mouths with a song.” Gurjin grabbed a pair of spoons and set them down in front of Rian.

“Oh, we’ve reached that point in the night, have we?” Rian said, picking up the spoons. He pinched them between his fingers, ready to play.

“I didn’t know you could play spoons,” Mira said, smiling at him.

“I had to learn.” Rian smiled back. “Gurjin’s inner-bard comes out after a few drinks and he demands accompaniment.”

“What am I, if not a crowd pleaser?” Gurjin smirked. “Go on, start.”

Rian adjusted his spoons and got his knee into position. “You start, I’ll follow.”

“Very well.” Gurjin stood up, took another gulp of Rian’s beer, and launched into a classic Drenchen folk song. Rian did his best to keep the beat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mira beaming at him.

“What other secret talents have you been hiding from me?” she purred.

His heart pounded and his face flushed. He missed a few beats, but Gurjin didn’t seem to notice. He played on as he lost himself in Mira’s beautiful eyes. This night, he decided, was a complete success. And he was sure, someday, when he was old and gray, he’d look back on this night and the memory would warm his heart like a cozy fire in a lively tavern.

[fanficshiddles]

Sweet Revenge, One shot

Loki is being subjected to some edging torture to try and get information out of him. But the poor OC doesn’t realise he has been playing her all along. Biding his time to break free and give her a taste of her own medicine, only much worse.

WARNINGS: Rape/Non-con. Dom!Loki. Teasing, edging, orgasm denial, forced oral.

 She swallowed hard when she walked into the basement and saw the angry Asgardian/Jotun chained to the wall at the opposite side.

She didn’t particularly like doing what she was doing, but she had no other option. Her boss would have her head if she didn’t get the information out of him that they needed. But the ways in which she was torturing him to get said information was not the most ethical of ways. But she was good at it.

Slowly making her way over, she tried to put on a brave face. He tugged at his chains, snarling at her. He was still in his Asgardian armour, but the flap on his leather trousers was open and his cock was sticking out. Still rock hard from her teasing earlier.

She couldn’t deny he was an absolutely gorgeous specimen. And she had had to deal with rather ugly subjects in the past. So having Loki to work with was a much nicer change of pace.

He was sweating still, panting between his snarls at her. She was impressed so far with how much teasing and edging he had been able to take without telling her the information she needed. In-fact, he had barely said anything since he arrived seventeen hours ago.

Trying not to stare too much at his rather monstrous looking cock, throbbing and in desperate need of some attention… She grabbed the bottle of lube and silicone fleshlight. But as she turned back to him, she could see the desperation in his eyes.

Biting her lower lip, she decided to try something different. Thinking that perhaps, the more intimate use of her bare hands would maybe make him talk quicker.

‘Still not ready to talk?’ She asked as she squirted some lube onto her hands and put the fleshlight back down again.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, mouth parted. But he didn’t utter a single word. Though he looked absolutely furious.

Rubbing her hands together, she moved in closer to him. She was glad he was chained up, he was incredibly strong looking. Especially in comparison to herself. If he got free, she would have no chance that was for sure. Her boss had left for the night too now, so she wouldn’t even have any back up.

But she wasn’t worried. The chains were on and he was going nowhere.

‘I could do this for days, weeks even if need be.’ She took a firm grip of Loki’s cock, he twitched and groaned as she slid her hand down his shaft. ‘It would be much easier if you just told me what I needed to know.’

She tried not to enjoy the way he felt in her hands. Or the panting and grunting that came from above her while she focused on his cock. She was careful not to give him too much stimulation, she didn’t want him to cum. It would ruin everything.

‘If you tell me, I will make you cum. I will even use my mouth, if you want.’ She tried, glancing up at him.

His nostrils were flaring and his jaw was clenched. But he still said nothing. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment when she rubbed her thumb over the tip of him. But then she suddenly stopped and took a few steps backwards.

‘You are making this so difficult for yourself.’ She sighed and went to the other side of the room, picking up a journal she flipped it open and wrote down an update. Everything that happened in the basement had to be recorded.

Her ears perked when she heard a dark chuckle coming from behind her. It was the first noise she had heard from him that wasn’t whimpers or moans.

‘I think you’ll find, it’s about to become difficult for you.’ He purred, sounding so much closer to her than he should be. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end at his deliciously sinful voice.

She spun around and panicked when he was right there, on front of her, out of his chains. The anger and desperation no longer on his face, instead it was full of mischief, hunger and darkness. Before she could comprehend the situation and do anything, his large hand was wrapped around her neck and she was forced back against the wall, above the ground.

She coughed and spluttered as she tried clawing at his forearm and kicking out at him. He tightened his grip and chuckled wickedly.

Leaning in, he ran the tip of his nose up her cheek and smirked as he saw the life starting to drain from her eyes from lack of oxygen.

‘Oh, cat got your tongue now?’ He chuckled.

To her relief, he loosened his grip around her neck and lowered her down so her feet was firmly back on the floor. But he still kept a hold of her, pinning her to the wall. Her breathing was laboured, he was only allowing her short breaths.

‘Mmm… What to do with you, my little mortal. You thought you could tease and torment me, keeping me chained up in here like some animal. Not only do I have much more stamina than you think, but my powers are beyond what you could even comprehend. No mere chains could keep me restrained.’ He rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck while he spoke.

‘P… P… please.’ She whimpered.

‘Ohhh, I think I will rather enjoy hearing you beg.’ He hummed. ‘But I have a better idea.’

He slid his hand down her chest, grabbed her blouse on the way and ripped it clean off her. She cried out and tried pushing against him as he did the same to her bra, tearing it off like it was made of paper. He then clicked his fingers and to her dismay, her trousers and knickers simply vanished into thin air!

She tried covering herself up and attempted to run, but Loki fisted his hand into her hair and yanked her back towards him. He pulled her against his front and clamped his other hand down between her legs, holding her there very firmly.

‘This… Is now mine.’ He growled.

She let out a sob, realising she had no way of getting away from him. She had spent many hours torturing him, thinking he was trapped. But he had been playing her all this time.

And he was certainly going to get his revenge.

‘First. Let’s do what you suggested earlier.’ He let go of her and she attempted to run. Loki just rolled his eyes at her feeble attempt. He grabbed her arm and forced her down onto her knees on front of him.

When she tried to get up again, he pushed her down by her shoulders. She felt a weird tingling around her wrists and they were magically forced behind her back, held in place by his Seidr. No matter how hard she tried to struggle, she wasn’t breaking free of the invisible bonds.

Loki breathed out hard as he looked down at her on her knees, trembling and staring up at him with wide eyes. He slipped his hand back into her hair, taking a tight hold that made her yelp. He moved in closer, so his cock was just inches from her mouth.

‘You will use your mouth to pleasure me. And you will make me cum.’

She opened her mouth, waiting for him to slip into her. But Loki knew her game, he was too smart. He smacked her cheek in warning, hard enough to knock her face to the side. But not hard enough to knock her completely over.

Then he grabbed her cheeks harshly and leaned down to sneer right in her face. ‘You will NOT bite me. Or you will regret it, I promise you that.’

She felt sick, how did he know that was her plan? But she knew that was most definitely a promise she didn’t want him to keep.

Still shaking, she nodded slightly. Knowing there was no other way out of this. She hoped that perhaps once she gave him a blowjob for his release, he would leave her alone and just escape.

Taking control of her head by her hair once more, he forced her down upon his cock. Not giving her any time to get used to him or prepare, he forced himself down her throat, choking her.

‘Take it!’ He snapped, not giving in even when he felt her gagging around him.

She struggled against his Seidr, trying to get her hands free. She couldn’t pull back. All she could do was try to relax her throat, to try and accept him.

Loki made her gag for a while, before pulling out with a pop. She gasped and gulped down air as strings of saliva and pre-cum dribbled from her lips.

‘Now get to work.’ He demanded.

She got herself under control and as he pressed his cock passed her lips again, he allowed her to do the work for a while. She used her tongue to the best of her ability, swirling around him and licking underneath his tip. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down, but not too far down of her own will.

‘Ohhh yes.’ Loki moaned, throwing his head back.

His grip in her hair got tighter and tighter with each minute that passed. He started taking full control again, fucking her mouth roughly. Then, finally, he got his release he had been waiting patiently for.

‘Swallow it. All.’ He forced himself down her throat as he came. She started choking again as she struggled to swallow in time, it was too forceful and fast, a lot dribbled out and down from her chin.

‘Look at the mess you’ve made.’ He pulled out of her mouth and then pushed her down onto the floor. Luckily her breasts took most of the impact, but her face still hit the floor a little harder than she would’ve liked.

‘Clean it up.’ Loki snapped.

She felt so humiliated, used, sore… And he had only fucked her mouth. But she stuck her tongue out and managed to lick his sperm up off the floor, having to move her body like a snake without use of her hands.

Loki folded his arms over his chest and watched with a big grin while she licked the floor. He moved his foot over towards her, into her view. There was some on his boot.

‘And my boot.’

She paused, but she knew better than not to do it. So she closed her eyes and cringed internally as she licked it off.

‘Good girl.’ Loki hummed.

He reached down and gripped her hair, lifting her up to her feet. She swayed as she stood, her legs like jelly. Loki walked her over to the table and bent her over it, making her gasp. She started to plead with him again, begging him to let her go.

Loki put his hand to the back of her neck and held her down firmly. With his free hand, he stroked down her spine and down over her backside.

‘Oh no, pet. I am only getting started with you. I’m going to fuck every hole of yours, over and over.’ He forced his hand between her thighs, stroking her cunt he found her aroused. He slid a finger straight into her with ease, gathering wetness he slipped it out and over her clit, making her mewl and whimper. ‘I will fill you with so much of my cum, I will be dripping out of you for weeks. Or I might make you wear plugs, to keep it all inside.’

She cried out at his words and also at the way his fingers were playing with her so well. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. But his fingers weren’t there for long, he moved behind her and pressed his cock against her entrance instead. With one swift stroke, he forced himself fully into her, making her cry out in shock at the way he filled her right up, forcing her body to accommodate him.

He leaned right down over her, pressing his weight against her back. Her hands crushed between them. She trembled as she felt him twitch inside of her, the size of him hitting every single sweet spot.

‘I’m going to keep you… I’m going to turn you into my own personal fuck doll.’ He pulled his cock back, almost all the way out of her.

His breath tickled against the side of her neck as he nibbled on her earlobe, and then he dropped the final bombshell that made her blood run cold, just as he thrust roughly back in and knocked the wind out of her.

‘And don’t think for one second you are ever going to be allowed to cum again.’

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Seven (4/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: Explicit, 6100 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: almost 6 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 |

The rest of the summer holiday passed by lazily. While Ainsley was counting down the days until the new school term began, Sianin seemed to ignore it in the hopes it wouldn’t come. But, inevitably, the first day of school dawned, sunny and hot.

Waking Sianin up was as delightful as ever, as she tried to hide away from James’s poking fingers by pulling her blankets up over her head. He knew she would’ve stay like that for long, since it would be far to stuffy in there, especially since the morning was already warm, making the air in the house stagnant.

As predicted, she flung her blankets off of her head with a loud whine mere seconds later, then dutifully trudged out of bed to get ready for school. Ainsley was already half way through her bowl of cereal by the time Sianin joined them.

She’d dressed herself in her school uniform but hadn’t tucked in the shirt. James mindlessly did it for her, but noticed she’d untucked it again five minutes later.

“Don’t touch,” he said as he tucked her shirt in for a second time.

But she kept fidgeting with her uniform all throughout breakfast, untucking her shirt from her skirt and driving James and Rose mad.

“It’s pulling,” Sianin complained when James fixed her outfit yet again.

“What do you mean, darling?” he asked.

Sianin lifted her arms above her head. “See? Pulling.”

It took James a long minute to understand what she meant. Her shirt strained around her middle as she lifted her arms in the air.

“We’ll get you a bigger shirt,” he promised.

“It’s too tight, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I’m not comfortable! I don’t like the way it feels.”

“Can you be a brave girl and wear it for today?” he asked. “I promise Mummy and I will get you a new shirt in time for tomorrow’s school day.”

After a bit more moaning and grumbling, Sianin reluctantly agreed, though she kept fidgeting with her clothes all morning.

“Want to take bets on whether Sianin comes home with a warning for not having her shirt tucked in, or being obstinate about tucking it back in?”

“Not taking that bet,” Rose muttered under her breath. “I thought we checked their uniforms last week.”

“We did,” James answered. “But I suppose there’s a difference between saying something is comfortable in the two seconds it takes it try it on, versus it actually being comfortable when confronted with wearing it all day.”

Rose pinched his side. “Guess I’ll be off on a shopping trip this morning.”

After the traditional first day of school photoshoot, James loaded his eldest girls into one vehicle while Rose loaded the twins into the other. She kissed Ainsley and Sianin goodbye and wished them well before she went off on her errands for the day.

Since the school drop off queue was always pandemonium on the first day, James parked a couple blocks away at a coffee shop and walked with his girls to the school. When they reached the building, he knelt down to give them each a hug and a kiss.

“Have a great day. I’ll see you this evening. I love you very, very much.”

He then stood and watched his children walk away from him and towards their various friend groups. William was perched on the short brick wall surrounding the garden in front of the school; his entire face lit up when he saw Ainsley. He jumped off the wall and ran to give her a big hug, then, together, they skipped into the school, leaving Sianin behind.

James was slightly annoyed at his eldest for so quickly abandoning her little sister, but Sianin eventually caught up with a group of her friends. No hugs were exchanged, but Sianin beamed brightly at them and began to follow them inside. She turned around at the doorway and scanned the crowd. He lifted his hand in a wave, and she smiled, waving back at him before she disappeared into the building.

Yet another round of first days, done, he lamented to himself. How were his girls getting so big? 

As he walked back to his car, James grabbed his phone from his pocket. “I’m getting coffee before coming in. Can I get you something?”

He shot off the text in two individual messages to his work mates, Mark and River. They were two of his only mates at the university, ever since he had gotten into a major row with one of his other colleagues, Rodney. James had taken to avoiding Rodney and any friends of Rodney, which unfortunately turned out to be most of the department. Not that anybody else was treating him poorly or avoiding him, but James couldn’t help but feel like they were silently judging him, and had been for a long time. It made it hard to fake cordiality and friendship.

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his maudlin thoughts.

Nah, mate, I’m good. The missus and I had breakfast out with the kids before school, Mark responded. Thanks though.

River didn’t reply until James was nearly at the front register about to order. Large black coffee please. Leave room for cream but don’t add any. And a scone. Surprise me with the flavor ;)

He sent back a thumbs up and slipped his phone into his pocket as he stepped up to the counter. He placed his order, and five minutes later, he left the coffee shop with two coffees and a blueberry scone.

River worked in the anthropology department, which was on the other side of the university campus. The sun was already shining down hotly, despite the early morning hour, and so he parked in a temporary spot to run River’s breakfast to her.

“Good morning, Professor McCrimmon,” River purred when he stepped into her office.

“Good morning, Professor Song,” he parroted. He held up her coffee and the paper bag with her scone. “Your order.”

“Oh, you’re a gem,” she said, reaching to take the coffee. She turned away from him to open the mini-fridge in the corner of her office. It was packed with half a dozen different bottles of flavored coffee creamer. “I think I’m feeling French Vanilla today.”

James shrugged, not particularly fond of flavored creams. They were far too sweet.

“School drop off went well?” River asked as she poured the cream until the coffee was a light tan color.

He tugged his phone from his back pocket and pulled up the quick photo he’d snapped of Ainsley and Sianin.

“Sianin waited until this morning to tell us her school shirt was getting a bit small,” James said, handing his phone to River, “but otherwise, yeah.”

River glanced at the photo before handing it back to him. “She’s nearly as big as her sister.”

“Ainsley’s small for her age. In the first percentile, if I remember correctly,” James explained. “She and Sianin can nearly share clothes. It won’t be too much longer now before they can.”

River made a humming noise then turned to her scone. She opened the packaging and took a large bite.

“Well, I’d best be off,” James said, scratching the back of his head. “Want to do lunch this afternoon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” River said, grinning.

James beamed, relieved that he wouldn’t be eating lunch alone that day. “Great. I have a class that ends right at noon, so we can meet then? If that works?”

“I’ll meet you in your office,” River said. “I’ve got a meeting on your side of campus at one anyway.”

“It’s a plan. Until then.” He gave a dramatic bow and backed out of the office to get to his own building.

oOoOo

The first week back at school was always exhausting as everybody readjusted to the schooltime routine. While James and Rose tried to keep their kids in a routine over the summer, they never quite managed. Sianin preferred to sleep an hour extra during the summers, and Ainsley, though she loved school, wasn’t always a fan of being around large groups of people and often shut herself in her room as soon as she got home.

But finally Friday arrived, heralding the first successful week of school. As was tradition, James and Rose planned a date night with their kids. Though this year, they had to account for the twins. Thankfully, Robert was more than happy to take the babies overnight.

They made homemade chips and personal pizzas so everyone could have their toppings of choice, and he and Rose broke out the wine. With the twins gone for the night and mostly weaned from breast milk, Rose no longer had to worry as much about alcohol consumption for the first time in over a year.

Once everyone was fed, James pulled down half a dozen board game boxes, letting family game night commence. They played through seemingly every board game they owned, as well as a few card games. For some of the more complex games, such as Cluedo, Sianin partnered up with Ainsley to play against their parents.

And all the while, James kept his and Rose’s wine glasses filled until they’d had to break open a second bottle of wine.

“It’s so nice to not have the twins here,” Rose murmured, her words slurred slightly as she leaned against James to take a look at the cards he held in his hand. “I can drink and drink and drink, guilt free!”

“Oi, cheater,” James said, pushing his shoulder against her and hiding his cards against his chest.

Rose giggled and snuggled closer to him. She tilted her head up until her lips were at his ear. The sensation of her warm breath tickling across his ear sent shivers down his spine. 

“I think I’m a liiiiittle bit tipsy,” Rose whispered.

“Maybe a bit,” James agreed. “But in your defense, you haven’t drunk much in over a year now. Your tolerance has gone to shit.”

“Daddy, your turn,” Sianin said, laying a card in the discard pile.

“Thanks, darling,” he said, returning his attention to their game of Uno.

They stayed up well past the kids’ bedtime, enjoying themselves far too much to bring an end to the night. However, when both kids were nearly falling asleep against each other in yet another round of Uno, James and Rose decided to put an end to the evening.

“Let’s call it a night,” James suggested, blinking against his slightly-swimming vision. He and Rose had polished off half of their second bottle of wine, and the room was a little unsteady.

“M’kay,” Ainsley agreed, her eyes a bit heavy.

“Do I hafta get a shower?” Sianin mumbled, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Nah,” James answered, glancing at Rose to make sure she approved. “Get one in the morning, though.”

“M’kay.” She heaved a sigh and nestled closer to Ainsley, not making a move to stand.

James couldn’t exactly blame her. He was comfortable where he was, leaning against the front of the couch with his arm around his wife and her familiar heat seeping through his clothes.

It took several attempts to scramble to his knees and then to his feet without falling over. Though he’d teased Rose for her alcohol tolerance going to shit, his had gone to shit right alongside hers; without his favorite drinking partner, he rarely had more than one or two drinks at a time.

“C’mon,” James said once he’d managed to stand. “Time for bed. Up, Sianin.”

She lifted her arms, as though expecting to be picked up.

“Sorry, darling,” James said, grimacing. “Daddy had a tiny bit too much wine to carry you safely.  I don’t want to drop you, eh?”

She huffed a sigh, and slowly pushed herself to her feet. With how much she swerved and stumbled down the hall, James would’ve thought she was a tad drunk too.

“Nighty night Mum. Night Dad.” Ainsley stepped up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Sweet dreams,” he said, pecking a clumsy kiss to her the crown of her head. “Love you loads. I’ll be in to tuck you in when I’ve finished with Sianin.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and moved down the hall. James followed, stepping into Sianin’s room to wait for her to finish her nightly routine.

She had stripped out of her clothes and was in a baggy t-shirt he recognized as one of Rose’s in lieu of pajamas.

“I don’t want a story tonight,” Sianin said, curling up in bed and tugging her blankets to her chest.

He wasn’t going to insist. He wasn’t sure his eyes could focus on reading a book to her. “Okay. Just for tonight, though. Goodnight, Sianin. I love you very, very much.”

She grunted and tilted her head up to accept his kiss before nuzzling into her pillow and promptly falling asleep.

He left her room and shuffled across the hall to Ainsley’s room. The light was still on. He knocked and pushed open the door in the same second; however, a yelp halted his movements.

“Dad! Wait!”

The door slammed in his face and he cringed, his face heating. “Ainsley, I’m sorry, darling.”

“I was changing!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, raking his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

She said nothing, but thirty seconds later, she opened the door for him. She was scowling up at him, her arms crossed at her chest. “What’s the point in knocking if you’re going to just come in anyway?”

“You’re exactly right,” James said patiently. “I am very, very sorry. I promise I’ll wait in the future. I’m sorry.”

She relaxed a fraction. “I was already mostly dressed anyway. Not sure you even saw anything. Sorry for snapping. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “This is your room, your space. I want to respect that as much as I can, including respecting a closed door.”

She flashed him a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Right, into bed with you.”

She pulled down the covers and slipped onto the mattress. He leaned down and brushed her hair away from her face before planting a kiss to her forehead.

She wrinkled her nose. “Your breath stinks.”

“Gee, thanks, Ains,” he said dryly, flicking her nose lightly.

“Just saying,” she replied sweetly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too. Nighty night. Sweet dreams.”

He fussed with her blankets for a moment longer before he straightened and left the room, flipping the lights off as he did.

When he returned to the living room, Rose was sprawled across the sofa, shirtless, a half-empty bottle of wine in her fist. She drank directly from it and beamed when she saw him.

“Hey handsome,” she purred. She wiggled the bottle in his direction. “Wanna help me finish it. I’ve lost the cork so we ought to drink it so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Is that right?” he drawled.

“Mhm,” she said, taking another swig.

Never mind the fact that they had plenty of wine stoppers, James plopped onto the couch beside his wife and took the proffered bottle.

“As lovely as you are, where’s your shirt?”

She gestured vaguely to the floor. “Somewhere over there.”

He glanced around and saw a ball of fabric in the middle of their living room floor. “And why is your shirt somewhere over there?”

“I was hot,” she complained.

And she looked it: her face was bright red and shiny. Now that she said something, he realized how hot their living room was. His cheeks seemed to radiate heat, sending it down his neck and into is chest until his shirt felt sweltering. Wordlessly, he passed the wine back to her and leaned forward just far enough to strip his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor by their feet.

“Mmm… you look even hotter now,” Rose murmured, her half-glazed eyes scanning across his bare torso. “Gettin’ me all hot and bothered.”

He hummed and puffed up his chest a little bit as he took the bottle from her and took a long gulp.

“My turn,” she said, turning into his side to grab the bottle from him. She glugged down several swallows, nearly choking on a snort as he whisper-chanted, “Chug chug chug chug…”

She was slightly out of breath when she handed the bottle to him. As though it were a big secret, she confided, “I… I am prop… proly… prop’ly wasted.”

“Me too,” he hummed, his body delightfully buoyant. His head was spinning and he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to get up and walk to their bedroom without tripping and falling flat on his face.

“I am so in love with you,” Rose said, grinning lazily up at him. “So in love.”

“Me too,” he repeated.

“Your elo… equlo… eloque… your way with words is… is astounding,” she teased, pinching his waist and draping herself into his side.

“What’d’you expect? The most beautiful woman in the universe is half-naked and half in my lap,” he said.

“Hmmm… do you want the most beat’ful woman in the universe fully naked and fully in your lap?”

The heat thrumming through James’s veins suddenly concentrated in his groin. He had barely begun to nod when Rose was shimmying out of her trousers. They were soft, stretchy yoga trousers, so she didn’t need to fumble with a button or zipper, but she still struggled to coordinate her limbs enough to tug them down her legs.

“M’pretty sure m’legs used t’be shorter,” she grumbled as her ankles got stuck.

He reached over and helped. Well, he grabbed a handful of fabric and began yanking. Eventually, her trousers fell to the floor, leaving her in her bra and a pair of white cotton knickers.

She frowned down at them. “Didn’t expect you’d see these. Sorry.”

“They’re very sexy,” he assured. She turned her frown on him. “They are! Primarily b’cos the sexiest woman in the universe is wearing them. You make your clothes sexy, Rose. Not th’other way ‘round.”

“How are you able to talk so smoothly?” Rose demanded. “Words feel… feel… they feel… far away.”

“Oh, you know me. Gob always going. I think words are basically ingrained in m’brain and come out whether I want them to or not, so I’m just going on autopilot now, love. Doesn’t matter. We were in the middle of something. Wasn’t I about to have the most beautiful woman in the world fully naked and fully in my lap?”

“Hmmm. You’ve got too many clothes.” Rose tugged on the waistband of his jeans. “S’no fun being naked when my naked partner isn’t naked.”

“You make a compelling argument,” James replied, and he pushed himself off of the couch to stand on wobbly legs.

He hadn’t realized how heavily Rose had been leaning on him, though. She yelped and fell sideways onto the sofa, where she dissolved into hysterical laughter. He joined in, especially when he nearly tumbled to his arse as he shucked off his trousers.

“Ta-da!” he crowed when he was left in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

Rose beamed up at him, her face bright red. She squirmed around for a minute, then managed to haul herself up onto an elbow, bringing her face to crotch-level. James was painfully aware of all the blood that was throbbing between his legs; he looked down to see he had half a stiffie tenting the front of his pants.

“Well hello,” Rose purred to his crotch, covering his erection with her palm.

He sighed and tipped his head back as gentle warmth and pleasure rolled through him. Rose then carefully tugged the waistband of his boxer-briefs down just far enough to free his cock. Without warning, she slotted her mouth over him. His hips jolted forward and he nearly stumbled on top of her. She let out a small gag, recoiling, and he took a hurried step back.

“Sorry! God, I’m sorry!” he squeaked, panting, but she was laughing.

“What a news story that would make,” she said, eyes bright with mirth. “‘Local woman chokes to death in drunken attempt at a blow job’.”

James giggled in return. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” He paused, his cheeks flaming as he stuttered, “Can… can we try again?”

“Do you want your cock in my mouth?” she asked, blinking up at him through lowered lashes.

The blood fell out of his cheeks and back into his cock. “Yes please.”

He was ready this time when Rose leaned forward and took him into her mouth. He groaned softly as he was surrounded by heat and wet. Pleasure fizzed through him, mounting so quickly he was worried about popping off in her mouth within the next few seconds; it would be doubly embarrassing because he wasn’t even fully hard yet. But the intensity receded slightly after a moment, and he began to worry a bit less about coming prematurely.

“Love you,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair. He didn’t try to guide her motions or speed her up, he simply wanted to touch her. And he needed a bit of help to keep his balance.

After another minute, she pulled off of him and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. My neck’s getting a bit cramped.”

“S’okay,” he said. “My legs are a bit wobbly and I’m pretty sure I’d fall on you if you made me come.”

“Were you close?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“Me too,” she answered cheekily. It was then that he realized she’d had one of her hands down her knickers. The sight made his cock throb.

“Allow me. Get on your back.”

Her eyes darkened at the command, but she complied. Her hand was still down her pants, moving in lazy circles.

“I want to see.” That was the only warning he gave before he grabbed at the waistband of her knickers and began tugging them down her legs.

He was sure there was a trick to this—he knew he’d done this thousands of times before—but his movements were jagged and her knickers kept getting caught on unseen barriers. He grumbled and growled, but finally her knickers were on the floor, leaving her gloriously naked.

She had helped him remove her knickers as much as she could, but now her hands had wandered down between her legs once more. She was glistening with desire, and his stomach tightened in anticipation.

“Let me see you,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Gimme your shirt,” Rose said. He furrowed his brow. “Shirt… pants… something to put under me. Don’ want awkward stains on th’sofa.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

He pawed on the carpet for both of their shirts—just to be safe—and he deftly slid them beneath her bum when she angled her hips up.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, fumbling out of his own underwear. “So gorgeous.”

She beamed at him, but her face loosened as her fingers disappeared between her legs. She moaned softly as she stroked herself, her movements slow and lazy as though they had all the time in the world.

He loved when they did this. He loved watching her pleasure herself. He knelt on the sofa cushion beside her and stroked his erection, trying to savor this moment as long as he could. Her skin was flushed red from arousal and alcohol, and her breathing was shortening as her fingers sped up.

“I’m so close, James,” she sighed, head lolling back in pleasure. “Feels so good.”

He cursed under his breath as his stomach dropped in warning. “Me too.”

“Get inside me,” she ordered suddenly. “Now.”

He groaned at the need in her voice, echoing the need in his body. He crawled on top of her, settling himself between her hips. He choked down a cry when she took him in her hand, her fingers slick with her own moisture. She rubbed the tip of him against herself and hissed out a low string of curses.

“Rose,” he panted, his whole body shuddering with impending release. “Rose, I'm gonna come. I’m really gonna…”

“Not yet,” she pleaded, arching her hips to try and get him lined up.

Her fingers were stroking him as she tried and failed again and again to get the angle right. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything except the feel of her and of the mounting, overwhelming pleasure thrumming through him.

“Rose,” he grunted in warning as the pressure at his spine flared hot. “I’m seriously going to come. D’you want it like this or…?”

“No, I want you in me but you aren’t fitting,” she whined, frustrated. “You always fit!”

“Allow me.” He batted her hand away from his cock. He throbbed in time with his heart, a steady, pulsing beat that promised so much relief and pleasure that he nearly said sod it and stroked himself to completion.

But he also wanted to be inside his wife. He wanted to satisfy her, and her desire for him to be in her. Squeezing the base of his cock to try to stave off his imminent orgasm, he lined himself up, shuddering as her wet heat teased him. He had seconds, maybe, before he’d be past the point of no return. He could feel it swelling deep within him.

“I’m not going to last once I’m in you,” he warned.

“Me either,” Rose said, her fingers circling her clit now that his cock was no longer rubbing it. “James, in!”

God, she was tight. Her muscles were already clenching in preparation, and he growled deep in his throat as he finally pushed into her. She let out a cry that was probably far too loud but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he was inside of his wife and she was so hot and wet and she was shattering around him, pulling him into her. Her muscles pulsed and throbbed around him as she gripped his arse, her nails biting into his sensitive flesh.

She moaned into his ear, wordless sounds that he wanted to echo, wanted to feel. The sensation of her breath in his ear sent searing goosebumps across his skin and finally pushed him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaked, his hips stuttering as he chased his own high. “I’m gonna… I need to… Rose, I’m gonna…”

Words failed him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was right on the cusp, right on the edge of heat and pressure and infinity. She breathed his name and squeezed his arse, and that was all it took. The electric thrum at the base of his spine sparked and he thrust deeply into her with a garbled shout of relief.

Everything was hot and wet and pulsing, friction and slipping and sliding, as time lost all meaning. His world narrowed to him and Rose and the place they were joined and the rush of endorphins flooding his body.

“God,” he gritted out, his orgasm raging through him. Body trembling, his coordination abandoned him; he collapsed onto Rose.

Panting raggedly, he tucked his face into her neck and prayed that none of their children would leave their room for the next few minutes, because he didn’t think he would be able to move from where he was to grab a blanket or something to cover up with. He was utterly sated, drowsy, and boneless, and the thought of moving was abhorrent.

“I love you,” he rasped, wriggling his arms under Rose’s shoulders to hold her closer. He felt as though he couldn’t hold her tightly enough. “God, I love you. I love you.”

Silence greeted him, and he frowned. Why wasn’t Rose talking to him? She always talked to him after a round of fantastic sex. And for that matter, why wasn’t she hugging him back? Her hands were lying limply on the small of his back.

“Rose, love?” He forced himself to pull back. Rose’s eyes were closed; she was asleep.

He chuckled under his breath, choosing not to be offended. Instead, he was rather pleased that he had worn her out so thoroughly. (He willfully ignored the fact that she tended to be a sleepy drunk).

But ss beautiful and serene as she looked, this was not an appropriate place for them to fall asleep, especially in their current state.

“Rose,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Rooooose.”

He lifted himself off of her, slipping out of her. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes cracked open. She blinked blearily a few times, then grinned up at him. “That was so fun.”

“Indeed it was,” he agreed.

“D’you come?”

He laughed out loud. “Yes, I did. Quite intensely. You didn’t notice? You can’t… you can’t feel the… ehm, evidence?”

“Can’t feel much of anything,” Rose responded with a shrug. “My whole body feels hot and tingly. My lady bits feel so good, James.”

“I’m glad.”

“C’mere,” she said, closing her eyes and reaching blindly for his arm. She tugged weakly, and whined when he didn’t lie down with her.

“We have to go to bed,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“M��trying, but you’re being stubborn,” she said, continuing to yank on his arm.

“Rose, we’re naked on our couch. We’re very drunk and therefore probably going to sleep like a rock. D’you really want Ainsley and Sianin to catch us in the morning like this?”

“Stop being so log...lolgic… so smart,” she said, attempting to flick him but missing.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said. “Come.”

“Already did,” she said sweetly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Come to bed.”

“Oooh, can we do it again?” Rose asked, glancing up at him with dark eyes.

“If you don’t pass out on me first,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get hard again for another round of lovemaking. His body felt limp and exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up with the love of his life and never move again.

She blew a raspberry at him, but she squirmed around on the couch until she had enough leverage to sit up. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at the couch cushions.

“All right?” he asked.

“Room went all wibbly wobbly.”

He nodded, and waited for her to stop looking like she was going to collapse back against the couch.

“I drank too much,” Rose sighed.

“So did I,” he said. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm. I think I need help walking,” she confessed.

“Okay, up we get,” he said, getting to his feet. He wasn’t much steadier than she was, and he nearly lost his balance trying to pull her to her feet. She swayed, but stayed standing. “I’m gonna gather our clothes.”

“No, I don’t want clothes,” she said, grimacing. “S’too hot.”

“I’m picking them up so Ainsley and Sianin won’t see them,” he said. “Don’t need them knowing what their mum and dad got up to after they went to bed.”

“They prob’ly heard us,” Rose said.

“I was trying not to think of that, thanks,” he said dryly.

He had accepted the fact that Ainsley and Sianin often overheard their lovemaking, no matter how quiet they tried to be—though they were far from quiet this time, to his embarrassment. But it didn’t make it any less awkward to know that his children knew whenever he and Rose had sex. He hoped it didn’t disgust them too much.

“Do you think we have too much sex?” he asked, balling up their discarded clothes in one arm and wrapping his other around Rose.

“There’s no such thing, is there?”

He shrugged.

“Ja-aaaames.” Rose poked his temple. “What’s goin’ on in your brain?” She poked his temple again. “I love your brain but sometimes it’s stupid.”

He swatted her hand away before she accidentally hit his eye.

“I dunno. I guess I was just wondering if we were being inappropriate.” The words felt silly as soon as they left his mouth.

Rose stopped and turned so suddenly that it nearly sent them sprawling to the floor.

“We’re both consenting adults,” she said, frowning up at him.

“I know,” he said.

“We’ve been shaggin’ for… er…” Rose’s mouth moved silently as she ticked off her fingers. “Sixteen years. I think. Something like that. A lot of years. We’ve been shagging for a long time.”

“I know.”

“And we love each other. A lot. Hence all the shagging.”

“I know.”

Rose frowned. “So… what’s the problem?”

“Don’t people’s sex drives usually decline as they get older?” he asked. “Especially once kids come around?”

“Are you… what are you saying? Do you not want to have sex with me?”

“No! I mean, yes. Of course I want to have sex with you.”

“S’okay if you don’t. It’d make me really sad but I’d do it for you—or, rather, not do it with you—‘cos I love you a lot.”

“Rose, I love having sex with you,” he said, wishing he’d never brought this conversation up in the first place.

“And I love having sex with you,” she said, still frowning. “M’really confused. I think we are both way too drunk to be having this conversation. At least I’m way too drunk. I don’t even understand what you’re freaking out about.”

“I’m not freaking out,” he muttered petulantly. At her raised eyebrow, he admitted, “I think it’s because I’m drunk that I’m worrying about this.”

Finally, her frown softened and she turned into him. She looped her arms around his shoulders and hauled him down for a clumsy kiss. The kiss was far too short for his liking, but it felt nice nevertheless. When she pulled back, she said, “Stop thinking so hard. We have fantastic sex, so why should we ever stop? Eh? Getting laid every week is amazing. I highly recommend it to everyone.”

He giggled and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t worry about normal, James. We’re not normal and we’ve never been normal. We have loads of sex which has made loads of babies, whom we love so very much that it makes you an excellent father which in turn makes me even hornier for you, which makes us have loads more sex.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he snorted, smiling fondly at her. “But you forgot one key piece: seeing you being an excellent mum to our girls makes me hot and bothered for you, too.”

“It does?” she asked, blinking.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“What…? Why?”

“Why do you get hot and bothered whenever you see me being a good dad?”

“I dunno.”

“Same here. There’s probably some sort of biological or evolutionary answer that my drunk brain can’t quite come up with. Wanting to create offspring with a partner who will raise the young or something.”

“You get so fucking sexy when you talk science,” she said, staring at his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the wine talking,” he said, giving her waist a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s clean up and go to bed.”

After a bit of half-hearted grumbling, Rose followed James down the hall. They took turns in the loo cleaning up and brushing their teeth. James had the forethought to set glasses of water on each of their nightstands to try to combat the hangover they were sure to have when they woke up.

His body was heavy and numb when he collapsed into bed beside Rose. She draped herself across him and whispered, “You said we could do it again.”

The grin in her voice told him she wasn’t serious, but he poked her ribs anyway. She giggled into the darkness and tucked her face into his neck, sighing. “You’re a really great shag.”

“So are you,” he replied, words getting fuzzier in his head as his eyes refused to open. “The best shag in the world. Best soulmate in the world, too.”

“You’re such a sappy drunk,” she hummed, kissing the shell of his ear. “I like it.”

His retort died on his tongue as consciousness finally slipped away from him and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When James and Rose awoke the following morning, it was with the anticipated headache—made worse by the sounds of two over-exuberant children—and only vague impressions of what had happened the night before.