#the way mut smiles at her is so pure

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea Episodes 6-8 | Meena's Uncle-in-Law

I adore their dynamic and how sweet Mut is with Meena. You are reminded that he's just a big kid himself. "You're only 7-8 years older than me," says this wise little sweetheart.

[ramp-it-up]

Cassandra’s Muse

Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.

A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”

Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way. 

“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”

Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.

“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”

He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.

Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.

Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.

“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”

Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.

“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”

Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.

After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier. 

“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”

“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.

Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.

“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”

 Wade groaned and threw his head back.

 “Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”

You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.

You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts. 

Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.

Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.

You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.

“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”

The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.

Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.

“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.

As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.

“Get over here and sit on my dick.”

You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.

You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining. 

“Move the fuck around, asshole.”

Wade stomped his foot.

“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”

But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.

“C’mere.” 

Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.

You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.

Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.

If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.

You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.

Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.

You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.

Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.

“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”

The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.

Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.

“Watch it fuck face.”

Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.

“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”

The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.

Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.

“Holy fuck!”

Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.

You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.

“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”

“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”

You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs. 

“Want that ass.”

You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.

You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained. 

“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”

You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.

Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.

"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"

“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”

Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.

“Ugh. Fuck. So good.” 

He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt  a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass. 

“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”

Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.

Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected. 

The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride. 

You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.

He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.

“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”

Wade came up and wiped his mouth.

“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”

Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel. 

“You ready to take this hot cock?”

You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.

It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.

“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”

Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.

“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”

Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.

You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.

“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”

You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.

And you were more than okay with that. 

So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog!

[besamehyuka]

No One Controls Me

LET'S KEEP HER

Chapter 7~

Previous   Next

WARNING: THIS CONTAINS SCENES WHICH MAY BE UNPLEASANT FOR SOME READERS! SUCH AS; INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING, WORDS, ACTIONS AND PHRASES. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SMUT/MAFIA/ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES; DO NOT READ!!

"You stay away from her!" Chan grits through his teeth as his grip on Jeongin's collar tightens, his gold eyes now burning brighter and brighter with each passing moment.

"Chan, listen to yourself." Jeongin speaks softly. "You're only listening to half the story." He says, looking deeply into Chan's eyes, not a single shade of fear burning deep inside him.

"I'm the healer so I can't stay away from her, especially since you like to hurt her."

Chan chuckles. "Don't play dumb, I see the way you look at her."

"Again, you're listening to Jisung." Jeongin chuckles as he shakes his head. "I can assure you there is nothing going on between me and her. We just met."

Chan felt stupid, childish even and he let go off Jeongin's collar, moving backwards.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Jeongin."

"Don't be sorry. I understand." With that Jeongin walked back to the room you sat, your eyes widened as Changbin continued speaking.

"What's going on?" Jeongin asked, breaking you out of your intense thoughts and shook your head.

"nothing..." You replied once again making Jeongin nod. He had to be more careful around you. He couldn't let his emotions break his only brotherhood he'd ever known.

"Jeongin.." You stated, breaking his attention away.

"Hmm?"

"You said you were a fox... What does that mean?"

Jeongin's chuckled, showing his beautiful smile, which made your heart almost combust.

"I'm a Kitsune. Sure you've heard of Werewolves." He broke away. "I just happen to be on the lower scale. However, I'm much more smarter and slicker than those musty dogs." He chuckled, which Changbin interjected.

"Smarter than most, but Seungmin is the smartest we have here."

Seungmin?

Your eyes widened at the familiar name, the handsome face that matched the name so perfectly... His dark, but puppy like features made him so attractive..

"Seungmin, isn't he a human?" You asked once again, forgetting Mingo's harsh words a day ago.

"No." Jeongin interrupted, heading to get some medicine from a shelf, his eyes looking to concentrated, his smile how gone, now pure knowledge filled his beautiful features.

"He's a Werewolf."

"Huh?" You stated, in pure shock. Of course! Of all things! You did always compare him to a puppy, so this shouldn't have hit you the way it did.

"A werewolf? I thought you were all vampires.."

Changbin smirked. "Most of us are. The vampires here are Chan, Felix, Hyunjin, Me, and Minho. The demon is Jisung, the Kitsune is Jeongin, and the Werewolf is Seungmin."

You huffed. "That explains alot."

Jeongin and Changbin chuckled. "But then again how did Chan get a demon, more specifically, Jisung, to follow his orders?" You ask with pure curiosity.

"Who says he controls me?" A voice Interrupted the room, the navy blue hair you learned to dispise, comes front and center of your vision.

"I still have my own ways. I'm not a pet."

"We're not pets either." Changbin states, gritting his teeth before standing tall, his muscles making him even more intimidating then he normally was.

"Are you sure? Cause that mut over there sure as hell acts like it." Jisung states chucking moving closer to you, once again he leans in. His lips two inches away from yours.

"Cause if I wanted to, I'd fuck you right here right now. Even if it's against Chan's orders.."

"You're asking for a death wish." Changbin states moving to your side pushing him away from you, shielding you.

Jisung only chuckles. "All of you vampires are really stupid. You think you can kill me? Ha!" His dark eyes are now covered with a dark black, an indication of pure evil. "I'm a demon, I can't die. But you can."

"Han Jisung!" A deep guttural voice states, causing Jisung's eyes to turn back to normal.

"Hello, Felix." Jisung states smugly walking to the exit. "I was just leaving." He says, his tongue sticking out, taking one last look back at you before blowing you an air kiss.

You never felt so disgusted in your life. You hated him! You hated him so much!

"I'm sorry." Jeongin replied sitting the medicine on the table in front of you. "Jisung never gets along with anyone here, and now his ego is just sky rocketing.

"He called you a mutt..." You stated, your fists turning white as you squeezed them. "How can he say something like that?"

"Y/n... Calm down. This isn't your fight." Jeongin smiles once again, immediately calming you down. "Now let's heal these wounds."

How was someone so calm when being made fun of? And why did he presence make you feel at peace? Were you falling in love?

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 25

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 18,006

WARNINGS: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Continuous First Person to Third Person POV Shifts, ONE! Tom Third Person POV, Self-harm, Alcohol, SMUT! (NSFW): oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Summary: It’s March of 1922, Ali’s nearing the end of her stay with the Shelby’s. After years of waiting, she’s finally ready to move on, but will fate let her. 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 24.2  CHAPTER 26

A/N: This chapter contains some POV switches as will the next chapter! Y’all know the deal. Black line breaks are there as a warning for the self harm scene. Only 1 ‘n it’s small! 

Smut is finally here! I haven’t written a SMUT scene in forever, so I fear I’m a little out of touch. 

It’s March of 1922 and things are going great! Well, not really, I had a mental breakdown so... I mean, not as bad as my last one, which was like a year ago. But, I was coming to terms with the fact that I killed someone! Someone who I did not have a paid hit on, but I murdered out of pure hatred. 

So, I had to do some inner reflection on that, and it would have gone a lot smoother if I had chosen to stop doin’ my side job. But I didn’t. I kept on with my “assassinating.” 

So was I really healed? Probably not, but hey! I don’t think about it anymore. I did it, I got away with— let’s move on. The guy was a douche anyway. Probably did society a favor. 

Yeah…

Right now I was cleaning up at Cassie’s flat. The gang was coming over soon, and I had to get the blood of a client off of me. The job was easier than most. I infiltrated another big party, seduced the target, and shot them in the chest and in the head. It’s a rule of thumb I have that I took from Zombieland. I got some blowback on me, so that’s why I’m taking a shower.

I’m not in the best of spirits tonight. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s because Michael and Arthur were to be arrested tonight. The only reason I knew was because Moss tipped me off. He caught me while I was visiting his wife. He took me aside and told me that Campbell had reason to arrest Michael, and he told me when it was going to take place.

The only reason why he was letting me know was because Campbell had his own plans for me. He didn’t know if Campbell wanted me arrested, but if I was on the scene— I was to be taken in. 

Let me tell you, I was so fucking proud of myself for befriending Moss’s wife! The single best thing I ever did. I mean, I knew I would be “bailed out” in no time thanks to all my rich mates, but Michael would still be in the clink. I think. I could ask around for some connections, if I needed to or was asked.

But, yeah. Michael and Arthur were being arrested tonight while I was at Cassie’s. Of course I felt guilty that I couldn’t prevent it, but it’s not like I could in the first place. That would mess with the timeline too much. 

Eventually, I got out of the shower, dried off, and put on my underwear. I’ve been trying to get more comfortable with my breasts, so I haven’t been wearing my bra to bed. In nothing but my towels and underwear, I walked out into the room.

“So,” I began while walking over to the bed, where I had my clothes laid out. “What’s on tonight’s agenda? Some heavy flirting? A therapy session? Or some good old fashion gambling?”

Cassie giggled, a pillow in her grasp as she threw open her arms. “All of it, babes!”

I chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” I dropped my towel and put on my dress. It was a velvet robe-like dress. Very flowy and comfortable, though it had a deep v-neck. Again, trying to get comfortable with my tits. Luckily, this process has been going on for a while and Dougie and Horace are now used to seeing a bit of my cleavage.

The pair do not regard me as anything more than a mate. Dougie is like my male twin flame while Cassie’s my female twin flame. They just match my vibe so fucking well! While Horace...well, he only has eyes for Angie. We bond pretty well academically, though. He answers a lot of questions I have pertaining some of the hypotheticals I conjure while writing.

After I put on my dress, I lotioned up my legs and arms before moving on to caring for my hair. I was brushing it out when the gang came in.

Dougie came up to me and kissed my temple before heading toward the table with the rest of the group. I hurriedly scrunched up my hair as I desperately wanted to join the conversation in fear of being left out. 

I threw my hair towel aside and quickly shuffled to the table. Cassie saw me coming and got up from her seat.

While beckoning me to her, she said. “Ali, c’mere.” 

I sat in her chair and once I was settled down, she sat on my lap. I sighed before asking, “So, what are we playing first?”

Cassie was sitting on my lap sidesaddle. She reached over on the table to the carton of ciggies that someone had thrown, tapped it on the bottom before pulling two out. 

With a ciggie hanging from her mouth, Angie replied while shuffling the cards. “We decided on Go Fish. Your favorite.” She winked at me and I returned it.

I giggled before accepting the ciggie Cassie held for me. She rested hers on her lip and just as she went to lit it— Dougie leaned over to us.

“Here, just use mine.” He said while pressing the end his ciggie to hers. 

Muffled, Cassie replied. “Thanks.” She looked back to me, took my face in her hands, and connected the ends of our ciggies. Basically, repeating what she’d just done with Dougie.

I swear to God, this group is so sus. And I think I’m partially at fault for how close and open the group is. I’m sorry, okay, I’m a physical person and I cut through the bullshit with the people I hold dear!

Angie dealt the cards, and I slid them closer to my face. I was exhaling when Cassie decided to start the conversation flow again.

She asked. “So Tina, how’s your married man? What was his name again?”

Tina tsked, a scowl on her face. “Darren, his name’s Darren. And, he’s fine...”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just fine? Who the hell’s starting?”

Angie cleared her throat. “I dealt so Douglas goes. Cassie’s sitting in your lap, so either you or her is next and vise versa. Then, Tina goes and finally Horace before me.”

I nodded as a quiet “oh” escaped my mouth. I looked back over at Tina.

Tina replied. “Yes, just fine.”

“So, has he filed for a divorce from his wife? Any sevens?” Dougie asked.

Horace and Angie gave him their cards.

Tina pouted, her arms crossing defensively. “He—! He’s been avoiding the question.”

All of us shared a glance and some of us hummed.

Dougie asked. “Any fives?”

“You know, statistically and due to England’s current standpoint on divorce— Darren is less likely to actually ask his wife for a divorce. There is an even lesser probability that the divorce would even be granted in a court of law—” 

The four of us girls shouted. “Go fish!”

“--because we’re obsessed with this “Christian purity.” And, his wife would have to be the adulterer. And as it stands right now only he has—!” Horace was spewing before he was cut off. His face contorting in pain before hunching over. 

Collectively, we all glanced at Tina, who was not holding up well. 

This was not going good, and the urge to tell her that I told her so, was not helping. She should just dump him, but eh, who was I to judge? 

I cleared my throat before holding my ciggie away from my lips, and asking through an exhale, “Anyone got any Queens?”

Cassie didn’t hesitate to give me two. I took the two I had in my hands and laid the four cards on the table. 

“Anyone got any nines?”

Angie threw one of her cards to me. Cassie passed it to me before looking over to Tina.

She said. “Well, Tina. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you. If ya want to stay with him, or leave him. We’ll be right here for ya.” 

All of us tried comforting her ‘n all we managed to get was a small smile in return. It didn’t reach her eyes, I knew that. However, I really wanted to have a good time so I was looking to change the subject. 

‘Just—! Anyone please talk about anything else!’

As I inhaled, I asked. “Any threes?”

“Go fish!”

I tsked.

I was laying down on the floor with Horace. Our arms were extended up in the air and we laid opposite to each other, if that made sense. Like basically, our heads were right next to each other. 

Our arms were in the air because I was playing with Horace’s fingers. Angie, Tina, Cassie, and Dougie were either sitting on the sofas/couches, or somewhere else in the room. He was a little drunk and wanted to calm down, so I offered to stay with him.

“So, how are things going with Angie, buddy?” I asked while still playing with his fingers.

He sighed and then chuckled. “Better. I think she… I think she’s beginning to like me back.”

I hummed and chuckled under my breath. “Well, don’t get too cocky there. She’ll knock back down a peg or two if she finds out that you’re feeling like that.”

Horace scoffed. “Don’t I know it. Hey! The only way she’d find out is if you tell her!”

My eyes widened and I spluttered rolling over to my sides. When I calmed down, I repositioned myself and grabbed hold of his fingers again. I sighed. “Well, that’s true but I promise I’ve never told her a thing.”

That’s a blag, I’m almost certain. It probably slipped from my tongue from time to time. 

I was running my fingertips over his short-cut fingernails while blowing raspberries. I took a deep breath before asking, “Well, you guys went on that date like last week, right? Angie’s told us some things, but how’d it go from your perspective?”

He blew raspberries before replying, “I think it went rather well. I mean she actually paid attention to me this time.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Oh my god, Horace!”

“It’s true! This time I felt like she was actually like looking at me. I don’t know. She’s hard to read sometimes, but it’s endearing, really.”

“So, you’re saying that you like the mysterious side to her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in a way, I am.”

“So, if you discover all there is to her, do you think you will lose interest in her?”

Horace and I grew quiet. His arms flopped down to his side which I repeated. I rolled over to my side, an arm supporting my head as my other hand scratched away at the rug.

Horace mimicked how I was laying, so that we were facing each other, and he sighed through his nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever know everything about her. People typically evolve over time as do their curiosities and interests. So, I don’t think you nor I nor Angie will ever fully know one another. However, to answer your question, no, I don’t think I would lose interest in her even if I knew everything about her. I—! I’ve been in love with her since I was a child, so it would be pretty odd if I were to just lose interest once we were together. I mean, then why the hell did I waste all these years pinning after her. You know?”

I hummed and nodded. “I feel that.” I continued picking at the rug. “Hey, Horace?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, um. Basically, you know what, nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, come on. Ask me.”

“No—”

“Just ask me.”

I sighed and looked down. “Well, I wanted to ask you since you’re a guy ‘n all. Um, why doesn’t Tommy like me?”

Horace’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he jerked his body around a little. Basically, shaking on his side like a mermaid out of water would, but not as violent. “Now, Aliena. Do you want an honest answer, or do you just want one that will solidify the ideas you already have in your head?”

I chuckled, a small smile spreading across my face before I shouted. “Both!”

Horace rolled over to his back and I inched closer to him. I hovered above him as he spoke. “Okay, then. The honest answer is, well, why does anyone not reciprocate a person’s love? It could simply be because you’re not the person’s type, or there could be any other extenuating circumstance. Why—? Why does Angie not acknowledge my love when I’m obviously ready to give her my all? She just has her reasons. Now, I’m not her nor am I your Tommy, so I can’t speak for him. I don’t know why he won’t look your way. Only he could truly tell you.”

I blinked, my mood souring. I took a deep breath and reached up to fiddle with the collar of his white dress shirt. “And the answer that would solidify my thoughts?” I whispered.

We stared into each other’s eyes as he replied. “You met him too early in life. You met him too early in life, and now all he can see is that 16 year old girl. Not to mention the 12 year age gap! I mean it would probably be nothing, if the both of you had met now, as you are 20 and he’s 32, but you met when you were 16 and 28. I—! Don’t get me wrong a lot of men would have gotten with you being 28 and you being 16. So, regretfully, I have to applaud the man.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s the truth, Ali. Men are—! Men aren’t the best. I’ve learned more than enough of the struggle women go through because of men from Angie, believe me!”

“Oh, I believe you!”

We chuckled before falling to a silence. 

Horace continued. “There’s also your personality!”

My jaw dropped and my face contorted. I smacked his chest as I gasped. “What’s wrong with my personality!”

He raised his arms and tried defending himself from my attacks. A big ol’ smile on his face. “Ali, you’re very affectionate! Do you know that? God, I’d have believed that Cassie would have fought with you if she didn’t know about Tommy. It’s honestly rather settling to know that you actually have your heart set on someone ‘cause you’d have fooled the rest of us!”

I pouted. Still fiddling with his collar, I asked in a childish voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you flirt with everyone in the group. You know that, right? You sit on Douglas’s lap. You sit on my lap! You sit on Angie’s! You kiss us on the cheek. Dougie kisses your cheek or temple. Then, there’s your unique fashion sense. I’m not judging your choice to display what God gave you. Angie would kill me if I did! But, you can even ask Douglas, we—! Well, I! Don’t regard you all that innocent, anymore. If you get what I mean, I—!”

I waved my hands as a way to stop him from tripping himself over his words even more. “I, I know what you’re trying to say. I get it all the time. Your point is?”

Horace took a deep breath before rubbing his forehead and letting his hand rest there. “Well, don’t you think that a person will just either get used to the affection or eventually grow annoyed by it?”

I’m regretting talking to him entirely.

“I don’t act like that with him, Horace. He’s still my boss, you know. I—! I could never!”

His eyes widened. “O-Oh! Then, disregard that last statement. Uh...”

I mean, but I have thought about that. I debated whether or not my compassion and love for the man was being taken for granted. Well, that he was manipulating me into like placating his feelings. I’m more used to that treatment coming from girls. You know, they act like they’re sad just so that I can comfort them— that sort of thing! I don’t deny that it’s crossed my mind.

Horace cleared his throat. “Well, then, perhaps he’s the sort of man that can’t handle you. You’re very independent and upbeat. I mean you can be serious when the moment calls for it, but you’re quick to giggle. Maybe he just wants a damsel in distress. Maybe he wants a more serious, proud woman. Proud being opposite to your “down to earthness.” Is what I’m trying to say.”

I snickered. “Uh… Right, okay? That was a whole lot in a small package. Um, right, okay then! Well, thank you for giving me your most honest answers, sir.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, madam.”

I snickered away while cringing and then stuck my tongue out at him. Eventually, we got up from the floor and rejoined the group. We chatted away while sipping our bevvies, and nursed our cigarettes before finding ourselves seated on the couches. 

Tina and Cassie were sitting on the couch opposite to Dougie and I. I was sitting rather close to him with my legs draped over his thighs. His right hand rested on my thigh while I ran my fingers through the back of his hair. 

Ah! I see what Horace was talking about. Yeah, all those Tik toks ‘n shit are coming back to me. Maybe I should ask Cassie how she feels about my touchiness? Oh, I definitely should. Great! Fucking dammit! Why did my love language have to be physical touch? 

He was telling me about his week when Angie’s voice was growing increasingly more loud by the second. She was pacing back ‘n forth in front of Horace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch.

Angie groaned exaggeratedly before snapping her fingers and shouting, “Ali, Ali! What about your opinion, eh? How do you feel living in these times while looking the way you do? Acting the way you do?”

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced at both Cassie and Dougie. They both gave me shrugs. I sighed before pushing some of my hair away from my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a drink in her right hand and waving about her left, she said. “Well, I mean you don’t conform to beauty standards. Right? Your hair is still very long, you typically wear what you want to wear. You enhance your curves and you know, embrace the waves in your hair. I mean that’s almost the total opposite of the way women dress today.”

I get that I was out of tune with the modern style, but she was making it sound like I was trying to be some sort of trendsetter.

I giggled and waved a hand and dismissed her comment. “I don’t know what to say. I wear what I want to wear. I—!”

“Exactly! Exactly. You wear what you want to wear. And, and you scrap with men. You fight your own battles. I mean—!”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Angie, Angie, wait a minute. I—! Look, we live one life. I intend on living it how I want. That’s all.”

She nodded. “I know! Exactly and that’s what I love about you. You don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks. You live your life the way you want, and I don’t know... Well, like tell us—! No, tell me how you do all this without worrying about snagging a man.”

Ah! And the other shoe drops. 

I sighed and rubbed my left eye. “Ah, okay. There we go, something I can answer. First and foremost, I dress and act however I want regardless of how a man sees me. How he chooses to warp me in his head, in anyone one’s head, is their problem. I will talk, dress, act, laugh anyway I want because at the end of the day— I have to live with myself and love myself. That’s how I go about my business.”

She began clapping and nodding, her lips pursed. 

Oh god, she was tipsy.

Angie snapped her fingers. “Exactly. And! And the beauty standards men put on us and other women expect each other to uphold is ridiculous. Like how the hell is one figure more attractive than another. Women are—! Women, men, everybody should be appreciated. Why, Why do we have to favor one type more over the other? I-I mean, I understand preferences but to subject people to a set criteria when some of us aren’t even capable of accomplishing that standard. It’s—! It’s preposterous.”

Angie raised her free hand to her forehead and she scratched it. “Take Aliena and Cassie for example, they can’t become more flat-chested. They can’t make them smaller. Nor, nor can they help their curvy figures! Why should society tell them to, you know, bind their breasts or something. Or to hide their figures in loose fitted clothing! They’re beautiful! Beautiful!”

All of us shared a glance at one another before bursting with laughter. We laughed so much that I’m sure all of our stomachs ached in pain. 

Through her laughter, Cassied rasped. “Angie, Angie sit the fuck down ‘n take a breather, hon’! For the love of...”

I chimed in. “Yes, please sit down before you blow a casket ‘n like faint or some shit.”

Angie pouted through a smile and plopped down on the couch. “I’m just saying. I mean Aliena, you exercise, right? Like, you work out in a way that a man does. Not just take strolls or ride bikes.”

I wiped under my eyes before nodding ‘n sniffling. “Yeah, I do. I exercise for myself. I don’t do it to please society or any man. I do it for me.” I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back to Dougie’s hair.

Angie snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Thank you. I love you. Thank you. And that’s why I want to tear down Hollywood.”

“Ah—!” I snickered and shook my head before blowing her a kiss.

After that fiasco, things called down a bit ‘n I went back to talking to Dougie. He was tapping my thigh when he quickly picked up his head and said, “You know I finished developing the photos.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “The photos…? Oh, shit! The photos! How’d they come out?”

Some weeks ago, Dougie bought this camera and wanted to practice his photography skills. He loved the art, but it could never be his main job, for obvious reasons. His father was passing on the company to him, so we all know how that goes. Anyway, I made the suggestion that the gang could be like his practice models ‘n eventually I got everyone to agree.

It was fun, obviously! I helped position everyone and of course, I had to sneak in some 21st century gestures. I just hated that I wouldn’t be alive to see my grandbabies’ faces. I’ll break the timeline, just for this reason. To fuck with my descendents. 

During the day, we went to an empty grassland area and had like a cottagecore photoshoot. It was fucking fantastic! One thing from my bucket list I was lucky to complete. But at night, it was a more risque photoshoot. And yes, even Horace participated in it. I made him as did Angie.

Dougie smiled and nodded. “I think they came out to be pretty good. I’ll bring them next time. It just slipped my mind today.”

I psh-ed him and shoved his head away from me before throwing my head back in a cackle. We talked a bit more before I beckoned somewhere else. I eventually made it back to Cassie, and I was sitting on the couch while she was on the floor. I was messing around with her hair. Right now, I was making a bunch of braids. 

Cassie was eating some fruit while she was talking to Angie. “Okay, but like who was your first kiss?”

Angie hummed through hooded eyes with an arm hanging in the air. “Oh, it was Tina.”

I spluttered and began spazzing out. I scurried off the couch and started running around the room while shouting over and over again. “No way! No way! No fucking way!”

Cassie joined my freak out session by rolling around on the floor and slapping the couch behind her, where I was previously sitting. When I felt calm enough, I ran back to my spot.

I shouted. “No fucking way!”

Angie chortled. “What? Why is it such a big deal?”

“Uh...” Cassie and I just looked at each other. In an American accent, I said. “Well, I mean. I don’t wanna be a bitch, but like when I felt met y’all… You guys were kinda sus. Like Tina, full truth, I thought you had a humongous crush on Angie ‘n yeah so, um, yeah. Did y’all date or…?”

Angie’s eyes widened and she rose from Tina’s lap, who was stunned, by the way. Angie snatched a pillow from the couch and chucked it at me. 

“She’s. Just. Shy. And we were kids when we just did it! It was innocent.” Angie yelled. 

I cried out when the pillow hit me. Through my laughter, I replied. “I’m sorry!”

Angie huffed as she laid back down on Tina’s lap. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not the only one to think it. People just get the wrong idea. She’s just shy.” Angie reached up and caressed Tina’s face. “Oh, we’ve both kissed Horace, too.”

My jaw dropped and a hand flew over my mouth. I looked at Cassie and Dougie, who were just as shocked as me. I screamed into my hand and began running around the room again, only this time I wasn’t alone. Dougie was running in the opposite direction of me. 

He zipped over to Horace while I tackled Cassie on the couch. Well, I more like got her in a headlock ‘n swung her around a bit as I settled onto the couch. 

Tina groaned, averting her gaze from us before running a hand through her hair. She asked. “Well, who were your guys’s first kiss?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Ugh, I guess my first kiss was with my childhood best friend too. Name was Brooklyn.”

“Mine was with Mary, she was a classmate.” Cassie replied.

Angie tsked. “See a girl, right? Why are you harping on us for?”

Cassie and I just shrugged. It was like we had this silent agreement that we weren’t gonna bring up the fact that we kissed each other on the lips as a greeting and a farewell.

“Hey, do you guys think I would look hotter with blonde hair?” I asked.

They all began telling me what they thought. 

Later in the night, we just went wild ‘n I was happy for it. Michael and Arthur didn’t cross my mind once. We blasted our records, danced the night away while chatting, drinking, and smoking away.

I was overwhelmed with emotions at the end of the night because—… Because I never thought I would have a friend group like this, and now that I did— it was surreal. I genuinely felt that I wouldn’t be in the mental state I was in, if they weren’t in my life.

They made everything that much better. I was always happy with Tommy, but that feeling was contorting into something else now. You know? It was becoming increasingly more platonic, and as much as that should feel liberating— it frightened me. 

I have a million reasons why I held out for him for this long and why it frightens me so, and I’m not going to dwell on them. To be honest, I think the moment he did reciprocate my feelings and he told me, I probably would numb myself immediately. I would just be in such a state of shock that I’d deny his feelings ‘n just move the fuck on. 

‘I mean that’s what is expected of me, right?’ 

Since I am the way that I am. I can’t just blame it on social media’s influence. I mean when I imagined the scenario I end up cringing a ton, and I send myself into like a “tic fit.” It’s the best I can describe it. 

Anyhow, back to how the night went! We got super drunk, super high, and probably pissed off Cassie’s neighbors but we settled down at like three or four in the morning. The people living downstairs were most likely the most grateful since we were jumping around like crazy people. 

We, collectively, all crawled onto Cassie’s bed ‘n knocked out. I was probably the first to sleep. I’m not going to tell ya a blag. It was completely plausible. But, what I loved most about tonight— it was that I was surrounded by people who loved me. It was warm and I felt safe. Something I wasn’t even able to feel in my own home at times when I was back in my own universe. 

Cassie was the big spoon while I was the little, and Dougie was her big spoon. I made sure to avoid being in the middle anymore. I talked to Cassie and she was fine with my touching. She said I showed her the same amount of attention, and she knew I didn’t fancy him— so we were good.

However, I didn’t want to interfere with a perfectly good moment. So, I chose to be on the outside while Cassie was in the middle. Yeah, that didn’t stop her from cuddling me instead. I was too intoxicated and tired to tell her to cuddle Dougie instead.

When I woke up, I found it to be fairly early in the morning because the sky was grey. There’s a difference to the 6 am sky and the 8 am sky, okay! I didn’t get up right away. I wanted to savor the tranquility that surrounded me for a little while longer. But like all sweet things, they must come to an end.

My guess is that I was probably stirring around too much by accident ‘n woke up Cassie, who inadvertently awoke Dougie. I tried coaxing her back to sleep, but it was too late for the both of them. Begrudgingly, I inched my way off the bed and strolled over to the table.  

Dougie was right behind me. I could hear his loud yawn from behind me, and then his hands gently fell on top of my head. My head bobbled as he kissed the top of my head. 

“Mornin’, Ali.”

I smiled and while my head did a little dance, I replied. “Morning, Dougie.”

He pulled out a chair for me before going to sit on his own. While gripping the arms of the chair, I scooted closer to the table. I craned my head back to see Cassie on the phone, no doubt ordering food. 

We really didn’t begin talking till the food came. I think we were just still sleepy, but food and orange juice helped. Horace was the first to get up ‘n he attacked the bacon. Then, it was Tina and finally, Angie. Who was very grumpy, by the way. So not happy about being awake.

I don’t know how it happened, but eventually we broke out into a food fight. It was awesome.

“Oi! Fucking watch it!” I exclaimed as I narrowly dodged a ketchup covered egg. I knew it was covered in ketchup ‘cause I saw Tina drown them in it. I grabbed a syrup-soaked waffle and chucked it at Dougie.

It got him right on the side of his face. He exclaimed and his face contorted in disgust. My mouth immediately contorted into deep frown ‘n my eyebrows raised, and when his crazed eyes found mine— I gasped. My gasp was so deep like a man’s that I hurt my throat doing it. 

I held my hands up as I croaked. “Wait.” He inched closer to me. “Wait! Wait!” I turned my back and started running. Something you should know about me, I never liked being chased. It gave me another type of anxiety and happiness— it was so weird. 

Eventually, Dougie caught me and we started wrestling with each other. Through our grunts, I heard the phone ring and Cassie hopped across the room to get to it. She landed on the bed and crawled to the phone. While sitting on her knees, she answered the phone.

I turned my attention back to Dougie and tried crawling away from him as he attacked my sides. It wasn’t my tickle spot, but I laughed at the pain of his fingers digging into my sides, nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry!” I yelled. “I’m sorry! I give, now cut it out.” 

Dougie loosened his hold and sat up on his knees, flipping his bangs to one side as he did so. I didn’t hesitate to get up on my feet. 

“Never!” He shouted. “You got syrup on my face.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I playfully yelled as I charged at him ‘n I barely managed to get him into a headlock when Cassie shouted for me. She motioned the phone toward me, and my smile dropped as did my hold on Dougie.

I walked over to the phone and brought it to my ear. While taking some of the hair that fell into my mouth, I said. “Hello?”

“Aliena, love.” Polly sniffled before continuing, “Thank god you’re alright. Um, I need you to come home, darling.”

“Polly, you’re crying. What’s happened?” I’m only half-ashamed to admit that I was exaggerating my concern. Hard to actually experience when I already knew what was up.

“It’s Michael. He’s been arrested. You need to come home to the house in Small Heath. We’re gonna have a family meeting.”

“Is Tom there yet?”

Polly sniffled again before replying, “No, not yet. You still have time before it begins, so come quickly. Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone and looked back at my mates. They were all looking at me concernedly. I waved my finger around before finding the words. “I, uh… I need to go. Cassie, can you tell Simmons—!”

She nodded. “Of course.” Cass instantly grabbed the phone and began calling him. 

I glanced at my mates one more time before walking over to the closet. I put on this off-white frock with some black heels. I didn’t fix my hair up or put on any makeup. I just packed up my things, threw on my coat, and hurried out the door. I bade everyone farewell before leaving.

I ran out of the car and into the house. I threw my backpack on the couch before shouting, “Polly, I’m here!”

Faintly, I could hear Polly gasp and then we met each other halfway in the kitchen. She pulled me into a hug and squeezed the breath right out of me. 

“Thank god!” She said. “Thank god you’re okay.” Polly parted from our hug ‘n began stroking my hair and face. 

Footsteps coming from my right caught my attention, and I hugged Finn, John, and Esme as they came up to me. All us exchanging words about how we were all glad that one another was okay. John caught me up to date as Polly was fawning over me. 

She couldn’t stop stroking my hair and kissing my temple. I didn’t mind it, but everything she did was exemplified since I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment from her. Well, I was ‘n it always happened in some sad event in our lives, and that’s probably what’s upsetting me the most. 

I managed to get her to sit down, and smoked a ciggie with her. Tom sure took his time coming home. It took him, perhaps, twenty to thirty minutes later before he strided through the kitchen and into the shop. 

I stubbed my ciggie out, just as Tom said. “John?”

“Coppers have lifted 10 of our men in Camden town, the rest of them on the run.” He replied.

Finn added. “Tom, they've taken Michael.” 

Polly rose from her seat and walked closer to the family and I followed suit, taking the opposite door to lean on. 

Tom waved Finn off saying, “Business first.”

“They took Michael— ”

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up—!”

“Polly, business first!”

‘Great! Went from having an awesome time last night to an anxiety ridden morning. I love my life. Wow, way to make it about myself. I’m amazing!’

Tom gave Pol one last look before asking John to continue. Polly looked vulnerable. She looked, sorry to say, pitiful. She was desperate to help Michael, but— obviously, Tom had an agenda he was intending to follow.

John continued. “They took all our whisky. So no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons. The Black Country boys think it was Arthur who killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen.” Polly said as she walked over to the table and began to lightly slam her hand down on it as she spoke, “I want my son out of prison now.”

Esme decided to speak up, at the wrong time. “Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs.”

“This meeting should just be family.” Polly insisted.

‘Ah—! Ma’am, the fuck does that make me? Oh, wait, family! You, idiot, you.’

“I can help.”

“-It's family only, she's not blood.”

“Let her speak.” Tom interjected, but Polly kept on going.

“Tommy! Or is this a business… How you forgotten family—!”

“ENOUGH!”

My hand flew to my mouth and I swear to God, my heart sank to my arse. ‘Holy fuck is the wrong, but holy hell is it erotic!’

I was given the side eye by multiple people in the room, and I quickly numbed my feelings. Faster than I ever had to before. I stood up straight and cleared my throat.

Tom looked back at Polly as he said. “Enough, Polly. Esme.”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaimed

“They can give us men.”

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It's… It is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.”

Tommy said. “Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.”

There was this pregnant silence that stilled between all of us, and it made me bounce on my heels. 

Polly pointedly stared at Tommy, inching closer to him as she said. “If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family, for good.” She took a step back from Tom and waved her hands around her. “This life is bad.”

Polly walked over to Finn ‘n grabbed him by the arm. “This life is all bad.” She began dragging him away and made a beeline for me. Pol gripped my arm ‘n began pulling me away too.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as my feet skidded across the floor.

“Aunt Pol, what’re you doin’?” Finn cried out as we were both being tugged away.

“Shut up and walk.”

I managed to crane my head back for one last look at Tom before Pol had tugged Finn and I out of the house. Tommy didn’t meet my gaze. 

Polly ushered us in her car and drove us to the house in Sutton. She ordered us to stay in the house, but I knew where she was going. I saw her make a call, which went on for sometime, before she darted for the door. 

I think she was calling Ada.

I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “Polly, wait! Where are you going?”

She sighed before taking my face into her hands. “I’m going to go see if I can get my son out by myself. Thomas isn’t going to help, so I’m doing this on my own.” Polly stroked the side of my face as she looked into my eyes.

“Don’t go...” I whispered.

Pol sucked on her teeth before shaking her head. I gripped her wrists as they were still close to my face and said. “I can—! I can call someone. My mates can help. They’re Michael’s mates too, so I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She shook her head and gently tugged her hands away from my face. I let her wrists go without hesitation. With one hand on my shoulder, and the other waving around as she talked, she said. “No. No, I can’t have your friends knowing about this side of the family. They’re different from us ‘n they need to have the best image of you they can. I will deal with this on my own. I will deal with this on my own as I’ve always done.” 

Polly quickly kissed my forehead and left just as I was about to continue to beg her not to. I ran after her, but my reaction time was a little too late since she was already in the car. I shouted after her, but she took off.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t—! I couldn’t interfere when she didn’t want me to, so I just walked back into the house ‘n focused on taking care of Finn. We spent our time talking and playing card games. I finished making our lunch when Ada showed up. I knew she’d show up. ‘Cause of the episode, of course. 

She brought Karl, which made everything better ‘n brighter for a while.

I  spent time playing with the baby and catching up with Ada. Eventually, I left Ada alone with Finn since I’m sure she’d wanted to talk to him alone. I had the maid make dinner ‘n eventually sent Finn’s lanky butt up to a room. Had the maid prepare it for him beforehand.  Ada and I talked into the night till Karl grew tired. 

She took another room and retired for the night. On the other hand, I only went up stairs to change into something more comfortable, then I went back down to wait for Polly to come back home. I basically wore a nightgown and put my hair into a ponytail. 

I knew Polly was going to want to take a bath ‘n I wanted to be the one to help her. It was only right since she’d helped me when I needed it. 

I hated myself. I hated myself. I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve used better words to persuade her. I could’ve—!

Polly stumbled in at around eleven o’clock at night. I sprang up from the couch ‘n she didn’t even make a fuss about the fact I was up. Pol stumbled into my arms with the stench of alcohol on her breath. 

“Ali my love!” She slurred as she leaned all her body weight on me.

I muffled a groan as I held her up. 

Polly picked herself up a bit and slapped her hands on my face. I flinched at the force she put behind it. 

“Beautiful...” She whispered. “Absolutely beautiful...” Her thumbs roughly wiped the space under my eyes. Bringing them up and down and stretched back. 

“Polly,” I whispered. “What’s happened?”

Her head jerked back and she stumbled away from me. Averting my gaze, she replied. “Is done. Michael with—! Michael will be out within, at, in the morning.”

I smiled and clapped my hands in front of my mouth. “That’s great news, Polly!”

She smiled and nodded, drunkenly. Like she was nodding like a bobble head, someone who wasn’t in control of their motor functions. Polly’s gaze drifted to the side and she pointed to the tub. “Were you gonna take a bath?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I thought about it, but then I was waiting for you to come home. I had the fire lit. Why? Did you want to take a bath?”

Polly stumbled forward and gripped my arms, steadying herself before she nodded. “Yes. Yeah. Ali, darling, can you be so kind… And help me?”

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. I ran to the kitchen and filled up the bucket for hot water. This house actually had a water heater ‘n that meant hot water from the tap. I had to make a few trips back ‘n forth but it was quicker than it would’ve been at the other house. 

“Alright, all done.” I turned back to Polly, who was sitting on the couch as she gazed into the fire. Her head shot up when I spoke. I turned around as a way to give her the privacy she needed to undress. 

I could sense her walking toward the tub and I turned my body more to the left while closing my eyes. Slowly, I got down to my knees ‘n sat on them. I wanted to give her the respect she deserved. The water sloshed as she dipped her body in the tub.

“Can you pass me the soap and sponge, love?” Polly asked me.

My eyes fluttered open instantly and I crawled to where I had placed the body soap and sponge earlier. I reached up for them and then crawled back over to her before giving them to her.

I sort of just sat there as she bathed herself. Her movements were sluggish and looked to be done with great difficulty. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to pry. I wanted her to open up to me and just cry about it. I didn’t want her to keep it in. However, I knew that was wrong, so I just picked at the carpet below me. 

Eventually, I couldn’t stand doing nothing and I asked her if I could shampoo her hair. She gave me a sloth-like smile and gave me permission. I reached up for the shampoo, took off my sheer robe, and shuffled on my knees around the tub. 

Polly leaned forward to give me some room. I scooped up some of the water from the tub using the pitcher and poured it along her hairline, slowly making my way to the back of her scalp. 

Shampooing someone else’s hair was always something comforting to me. I did Cassie’s hair all the time as she did mine. It was a type of intimacy that was more innocent than others types. 

I began humming something from Billie Holiday. I didn’t know the song by heart, but I knew some of the words ‘n rhythm enough. I was rinsing her hair when Polly’s shoulders began to shake. Muffled sobs escaped her nose as she shakily took deep breaths. 

I didn’t know what to do or say. I didn’t know if it was appropriate to touch her and hug her, so I asked. I asked if it was alright if I hugged her. Like a child, she nodded through her sobs. 

I hugged Polly from behind. She was wet, I knew that. I was painfully aware of the new sensation of my dress sticking to my body and her cold hair against my cheek. Everything in my being was screaming and begging me to launch myself backward, away from her— but my heart was pleading for me to do the opposite. 

My heart wanted to absorb her pain, and it was my heart that won. I choked back my tears. I didn’t have the right to shed them. I could’ve saved her from this pain. I could’ve prevented this. But, ultimately when I blinked, they slipped down my cheeks. 

I didn’t pry, I stayed true to my word. We composed ourselves simultaneously and silently. 

“Love?” 

I wiped my nose on my arm before answering, “Yes?”

“Can you get me a cigarette? They’re in my purse.”

I nodded as I muttered. “Of course.” I rose to my feet and walked over to her purse, which was on the sofa. I put one in my mouth and lit it. With it still hanging off my lips, I took a quick puff as I grabbed the ashtray. I placed it on the stool that had the soaps on top, and then passed Polly her ciggie.

I walked back around to the chair that was behind her ‘n admired the fire crackling. Ada came in not too long after. I left… 

Truthfully, I didn’t know why I left. 

I trudged up the stairs all the way to my room. I closed the door behind me and slid down it.

I felt like a complete piece of shit and hollow and empty. My face scrunched up in a sob, but no tears came out. There was this increasingly more painful headache forcing me to acknowledge it, and with it came anger and annoyance. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to throw stuff around. I wanted to kill Campbell for what he’s done to this family.

I wanted his blood. I wanted to slit his throat. I wanted to bite a chunk of his neck out. I wanted…

I heaved a deep breath and found it still difficult to breathe. I crawled forward on all fours with one hand supporting my weight while the other clutched my throat. I took deep breaths till finally I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I had to release these emotions inside of me. The need to punish myself became overwhelming, and my eyes flickered to the suitcase that laid under my bed. 

I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t afford any marks’ I thought. 

With my other job, my body is a tool ‘n any harm to it hinders my ability to get it done. 

So, I yanked the straps of my gown down and let it fall under my waist. Ferociously, I began to claw away at my neck, arms, and stomach. The burn. The burn was what I needed. 

And when I stopped, the pain took over but as much as it meant everything— it was also nothing. 

Slowly, I brought the straps of my gown back up to my shoulders, rose to my feet, and sauntered over to my bed. I climbed in it and just laid there while staring at the lamp that was always on at my desk. I fell asleep, eventually…

The next morning, Polly came into my room ‘n asked if I wanted to come with her to go ‘n get Michael. I felt like she wanted me to go with her, so I said I’d go. While dressing up, I was glad to see that none of the scratches I’d made scarred up. 

I made sure to dress warmly since we would be going out so early in the morning and then we headed off to pick him up. We didn’t make any conversation during the drive or as we waited for him to come out. 

But nothing— and I mean nothing, could tear my eyes away from the scarf around her neck. 

I chose to lean against the wall as we waited while Polly was pacing back ‘n forth on the pavement. When Michael walked out, the first thing I noticed was the ugly bruise on his right cheek. Then, I noticed the little cuts all around his face. The need to comfort him was strong, but he walked straight toward his mother while smoking a ciggie.

“You need cream on them cuts or they'll go bad.” Polly said to ‘em.

Michael didn’t reply. He took a drag before saying, “The screws told me why I've been freed. They told me what you did.”

Polly looked away from Michael. Her gaze found mine, and she hurriedly looked away from me too. Polly stared straight on, instead. 

“They thought it was funny.” He continued. Michael took another puff before he said. “Maybe it is.”

The urge to degrade and make someone cry had never been activated so fast in me before now. I glared at Michael as he walked away. My blood boiled with each step he took.

With my foot, I launched myself away from the wall and walked to Polly’s side. I put a hand on her shoulder and whispered. “C’mon. Let’s go. He probably needs time is all.”

Polly said nothing, but allowed me to lead her over to the car.

Michael eventually had to come home, and he had the audacity to knock at my door. Of course, I let him in but only to give him a piece of my mind. 

“Do you even know what she did?” He shouted.

“She got you out, didn’t she? Why should you care how?” I shouted back.

“She fucked Campbell to get me out. She prostituted herself!”

I pretended to process it and be shocked before I continued. “And? So fucking what? Who are you to say that it was funny, huh? Fucking bastard! Fucking ungrateful prick!” 

I wanted to put my hands on him so badly, but I resorted to punching my palms repeatedly instead. As well as folding in on myself.

I whipped my hair back and ran a hand through my hair. 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t see anything wrong with that? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Of course there’s something wrong with that! Campbell abused his position and abused his powers. He raped your mother!”

His face fell.

I scoffed. “Did you actually think I would side with you? Oh, fuck you, Michael. I would’ve done the same for me own son and so much more. She did that out of desperation ‘n fear ‘n pure maternal love! And—! And, you threw it back ‘n her face! I mean look at you, Michael. How much more of that could you have withstood?”

“All of it! I would have taken every beating… Every fucking—!” Michael choked up and rose his fists over his eyes. 

I averted my gaze. My tongue prodded the inside of my cheek as I violently shook my right leg. I tsked before rushing toward Michael and pulled him into a hug. Weakly, he hugged me back. 

Muffled, I said. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you for the things you said, but me and you are not alright right now. And I need you to respect the fact I need some time to process and get over what you said to her. It was very insensitive and I don’t play when it comes to situations like that. I don’t care about the excuse. You should have comforted her or each other when you were given the chance.” I parted from the hug and turned around. 

I didn’t turn back around till I heard my door shut from behind me.

About a week and a half has passed since Michael’s release and we’re still not on good terms. He hasn’t apologized to Polly for what he said, so obviously I wasn’t going to just sweep that shit under the rug. Little shit would have no idea how much restraint it took to not slap him across the face!

Of course I encourage him to “get it over with” and “clear the air.” But the stubborn twat was like his mum, and he refused to do so. It was like that conversation we had went in one ear and out the other. So, I’ve just steered clear of ‘em. Pissed me off just looking at him.

Anyway, John and I went to visit Arthur in jail. He was pretty rough, but when was Arthur not? We just visited him to see him. Tommy didn’t have a plan drawn up yet. Other than that, I’ve been busy with work. Legit and side hustle alike. 

Since the coppers fucked with the inventory, Tommy needed my help with the numbers and had me running around more often. At the same time, Dom gave me hit orders every other day. 

Some of the hit orders were during the day as well! I had to run off to get that job done, then hurry back to Small Heath. I’m just lucky nobody gets on my arse. Tommy could, no doubt there, but he was busy himself and I got the job done anyway. 

I knew he had some Peaky men or juniors watching me, for my “protection.” I knew they told him what I was doing, where I was going, but they never found out what I did. I had to let Dom know what was going on at home, and he helped me get away from them. 

Was it suspicious? Short answer, yes. 

Not like I could stop the side, though. The second season was coming to an end soon and what happens on Derby Day determines if I’m staying in this family or not. I, myself, don’t even know what to expect. 

I mean, it’s obvious he’s going to sleep with Grace and knock her up. What the fuck did I even want to happen? Did I want him to just confess to me and we get together instead? Well, of course, I want that to happen! But it’s not. And I can’t even see Tommy doing something as cringy as that. Yes, cringy.

The idea of him just springing on a confession on me still made me cringe up. My feelings have never been recuperated, so if they were to finally be mutual— there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have the romantic reaction I would be hoping for. Sad truth, but what could I do? Not like I had control over what my crushes felt. 

So, basically, if Grace is pregnant— I’ll quietly go away. I haven’t brought it up to Cassie yet, but I’m planning on slumming it with her. Just for a while, I know I have enough money to buy a house of my own. I would probably get Dom to do it for me, though, since I had no idea how to do it. 

If Tom tried to find me, then I’d just hide at Dom’s place. I’m sure he’d let me. On the topic of Tom, though— I missed him. Like talking to him, bugging him, and especially seeing his face. I was being deprived of my daily dose of serotonin. It was a crime!

Despite all that, today was a night of relaxation. I’d planned to go out with my mates, but since it’d be too dangerous to go South— they had to come to me. Ridiculous, I know but Tom insisted on the idea the last time I saw him. Even though I’d been going all around the fucking country for a week and a half.

We were in the snug at the Garrison. Smoking a few cigs while sipping on our bevvies. It was a girls’ night despite the fact that Finn was here. Let him have two pints, and that was it. He was still working on his first like a good lad. 

Angie spat. “I mean who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Just because her mum is a famous pianist doesn’t mean she is too! Dumb dora doesn’t know about key or pitch to save her life.”

I raised my eyebrows and slurped my bevvy. I smacked my mouth before asking. “Hey, Ange. How are you and Horace?”

Her movements faltered and a smile crept up on her face. I gasped and my hand shot over my mouth.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, are you two finally dating? Are youse dating?” My hand flew back to Cassie’s arm and I gripped it while shaking her. She was just as excited as I was.

Angie couldn’t meet my gaze to save her life. “I-! We… Yeah, we’re dating. I, I said yes.”

All of us girls squealed and congratulated her. Internally, I was congratulating my boy, Horace. My mans was pinning after Angie since childhood and he finally got the girl. 

Even material to make a story out of, oop! Mayhaps.

She told us how it happened. They had been in a fight since her father secretly set her up on a blind date and he’d caught them as she was out. Horace didn’t blow up on them at the spot, but Angie felt compelled to follow him out the restaurant they were dining in. On the street, he aggressively professed his love and told her he couldn’t bear to beat around the bush anymore. He gave her an ultimatum, and she was thrown off by how assertive he was being. It made her heart flutter, and she confessed she felt the same. 

Another round of squeals at the table, please! Poor Finn, he had to suffer through us. His own fault for volunteering to, like, chaperone me.

The topic changed to the ball Cassie had for her 21st birthday. This happened like a couple of Fridays ago since her birthday was on the tenth of February. It was really extravagant and the theme was like a royal ball. So, we got to dress up in these really amazing ball gowns. I wore this beautiful green ball gown that was most likely akin to 16th century fashion, as one man told me. 

I wouldn’t know the exact period my dress resembled since that wasn’t my area of expertise. Glad the man knew, though!

Cassie tapped me on my arm, her face contorted in confusion. “Ali… What did we do for your birthday?”

I blinked before smiling. “Oh, we didn’t do anything.”

Her face immediately contorted in horror and she looked at Angie and Tina, which of course made me do the same. They had the same expression on their faces.

Tina raised a finger and began wagging it as she said. “Wait a minute… Did we even do something for your birthday last year?”

“Uh...no.” My eyes kept flickering between the three of them and I watched as the horror deepened in their faces.

They began showering me in apologies, and while it did comfort me— it annoyed me at the same time. ‘Like it was too late for apologies since the days already passed. So, like why sweat it now?’

The girls surrounded Ali and showered her in apologies. Finn watched from the sidelines. He saw the flicker of discomfort on Ali’s face before she began to smile. 

He knew that his family had forgotten about her past two birthdays as well, and he wanted to get something for her. But the last time he did that— he got in trouble for it. So, the best he did was wish her happy birthday. 

“Okay! Okay! We obviously just have to throw the biggest party ever to make up for them both.” Cassie said, her lips pursing as she talked. Tina and Angie nodded, but Ali sighed. 

She shook her head while clutching her forehead. “No. No, it’s alright really. My birthday passed. I don’t need anything.”

The girls dismissed her wishes, which annoyed the crap out of Ali and Finn. 

Ali rubbed her eyes roughly before waving her hands up. “Okay, okay, fine! We can have a little something. It has to be little. I’m not allowed South, so—!”

Cassie cut her off. “That’s completely alright. We can do it here like last time. You know?” She looked around the room. Tina and Angie nodded in agreement. 

Ali thought about it and just succumbed to her mates’ wishes. Ali took a breath and thought about it in a different perspective. Instead of holding onto the fact her birthdays were overlooked, she was just appreciative that they, at least, wanted to celebrate it now.

They girls talked it out and they decided they would reconvene next Friday at the Garrison. Finn was welcomed to join, and the lad was not going to miss it for anything in the world because of what they were planning.

These girls were planning to get “fucked up.” More specifically, Aliena “fucked up.” He had some idea of what that meant, and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. 

Eventually, Finn ended up asking Aliena what that meant, and she told him that her mates basically wanted to get her really drunk. He knew he wouldn’t like it. 

That week Finn, Aliena, and the girls were all just really preparing for the “doomsday.” Aliena was pumped up to have fun with her girls in her honor, and couldn’t decide what she to wear. The girls were trying to find gifts for her birthdays, you know, since they missed two of ‘em. 

While Finn, he was going through it. He was debating so hard whether or not to tell Tom. He didn’t know if he should. He usually would have, but with things being so tense lately— he really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news or add fuel to the fire. So, he decided against it and was just glad to be invited. He also looked for a gift.

The day of the party both Finn and Aliena visited Tommy’s office. Aliena went to give him his dinner at around 5:30. She had yet to get dressed for the night, but her hair was beautifully done in waves from the braids she made the night before. She had half of it up since if it was all down— her hair would be too poofy.

Aliena knocked on Tom’s door before entering. Tom was finishing up some last minute paperwork. He didn’t tell Aliena, but he was going to Ada’s house to meet up with Grace. She’d called some weeks ago, and Tom was finally available enough to meet her. 

She rested the basket on his desk and moved a piece of her hair away from her face. “Here you go, Tommy. Have a nice night.” 

Tom picked up his head and his eyebrows wanted to furrow as he took in her appearance. Her hair was done nicely and she was wearing a nice outfit. 

Ali had on a white tank top with a sheer white long-sleeved blouse over it and wore a ribbed off-white skirt that hugged her curves. She didn’t think anything of it, but Tom sure did. 

He wondered if she got dressed up for another boy of hers, but then he realized he had no business admiring her or getting jealous. After all, he’d be meeting up with Grace in almost a half hour. 

Tom looked into Aliena’s eyes ‘n noticed she was wearing a bit of makeup and holding a vanilla folder in her hand as well. “Night, Ali.” He replied.

Ali smiled at him, gave him a nod, and knocked on his desk before spinning around on her heels. Ali was almost out the door when her hand knocked into one of the chairs and the contents of the vanilla folder went flying. Ali cursed under her breath and bent down to collect the papers from the ground.

Tom’s eyes never left her arse. Tom recognized that Aliena was blessed with well-endowed features— ample breasts and a large behind as well as thighs. He admired the way her breasts hung from her body as she had to reposition herself to get a paper that had flown under the chair. He admired the arch of her back. 

Tom realized he was acting like a pervert and resituatied himself. He silently cleared his throat and sat up straight while tugging on his pants. Aliena tapped the folder on the ground to straighten its contents before rising from her knees. 

She smiled at him, sheepishly, as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry ‘bout that, Tommy. Good night.”

Tom repeated the phrase under his breath and Aliena made it out the door without a mishap. 

Finn came in not five minutes later, passing Aliena on the way to the office. He walked straight into Tom’s office. 

Tom’s head shot up and he didn’t hesitate to begin speaking, “Finn, I want you to look after Aliena tonight. I’m going over to Ada’s and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Tom had risen from his seat as he spoke. Putting on his coat and cap. 

Tom walked over to Finn and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Alright?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

Tom nodded and began walking ahead of his little brother, but then turned around all of a sudden. Tom pointed toward his desk ‘n said. “Oh and eat that for me, yeah? Aliena made it so… It should be good.”

Finn chuckled and took his brother up on the offer. He’d been starving.

Aliena rushed home and practically inhaled her meal. She didn’t want to eat, but since was planning to drink till her liver bursted— she didn’t want to knock out on the third drink. After eating, she hauled the tub to her room and took a bath.

Aliena decided tonight was the night. 

She wasn’t going to wait for Tommy anymore. 

She’s been building up to it and she didn’t care anymore. Virginity was just some societal construct anyhow. Plus, she wouldn’t tell anyone but she owned a dildo in her other universe ‘n yeah… 

Aliena just assumed this body, that was very fucking different, had it’s hymen, so…

She freshened up and shaved her vagina. Not for the poor guy she was going to use, but for herself. Aliena was big on, “you like me for me or you can fuck off.”

Don’t worry Ali had her hair all tied up away from the water and when she was done— all she had to do was dry her body off.

Ali kept her towel on as she did her makeup. She kept it light and noir like she did for the Garrison’s reopening. After makeup, she slid on her dress. The best Ali could describe it was a loose body con dress that had ruffles that reminded her of a curtain. It was sky blue ‘n fit with the times. 

Ali took down her hair once she was done putting on her dress. She tried her best to keep her waves, but they had ultimately lost most of their volume throughout the day. Aliena tried to not let it bother her. She put on her heels, grabbed a matching clutch, and her white fur coat. 

Aliena walked over to Finn’s room ‘n knocked on his door, asking if he was ready. He didn’t answer from his room, but from downstairs. Aliena hurried down the flight of stairs, joined their arms once she was down, and then they were on their way to the Garrison. 

Isaiah met them on the way, which was a pleasant surprise. Finn had invited him along ‘n of course Aliena wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she figured it was due to the business. 

Aliena was escorted with two men around her arms to the Garrison and she chatted with them the whole way. She was all smiles and it warmed both the men’s hearts. More so Finn than Isaiah. 

When they got to the pub, they instantly walked to the snug. They quickly seated themselves down ‘n got comfy. Isaiah ordered their bevvies from the window and they were served not too long after. 

The gang couldn’t have gotten there not twenty minutes later. Their hands were occupied with gifts ‘n the boys were carrying the cake. Aliena couldn’t feel more loved ‘n appreciated. She greeted her mates with kisses and hugs ‘n thanked them for the party. 

Aliena ended up thanking Douglas and Horace for showing up and for their gifts separately since she wasn’t expecting them. First manner of business was the birthday cake. Horace revealed this magnificent simple cake that had twenty candles around it.  

Ali couldn’t stop covering her face as she smiled. She tried reeling in her emotions, but she never could act “right” when people sang her happy birthday. For her birthday wish, she wished that she’d continue on working on her happiness. 

Before having a piece of cake, Aliena opened her presents. Cassie gave her another set of expensive jewelry that was to die for! Ali loved it! Douglas gave Aliena a new pair of shoes, a clutch, and a purse. While it wasn’t to die for, Aliena appreciated it since after all he didn’t even ask her what she wanted. It was ballsy to get a gift for Ali without talking to her first since her face usually gave her true thoughts away.

She’s worked on that since she was young, but sometimes it will show. Hasn’t happened yet, but doesn’t mean it won’t.

Angie gave Aliena more designer clothing while Horace bought her a typewriter. She absolutely gushed over their gifts, especially the typewriter. Tina’s present was Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, Little Women, Romeo and Juliet, and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Aliena loved the fact that Tina gave her books. Truth be told, she hasn’t really read a book unless they were someone else’s. 

Isaiah didn’t have a gift, so we can skip over him. Finn, on the hand, did. Ali was a little apprehensive about it since last time he got her a gift, he would’ve caught a charge if he was anyone else. It was a big box, too. Aliena shook the lid off the box to find a box of items packed inside. There were about five different shades of lipstick, two bottles of perfume, and a whole lot of makeup. 

Ali couldn’t help but be in awe at the gift. She hugged Finn and thanked him for something so wonderful ‘n thoughtful. Finn was able to let go of the breath he was holding and felt extremely happy that she loved her gift. Swear, the boy had a smile for a majority of the night.

The minute Aliena was done opening her gifts, the real party began. Finn watched as Aliena and her mates took shot after shot after shot. He participated a bit himself, but out of conditioning from Aliena— he took his time. Isaiah was faring no better. He’d received the same order as Finn. His sole duty tonight was to protect Aliena ‘n the way she was drinking— he had a bad feeling something was gonna happen.

Eventually they made their way out of the snug ‘n began dancing more freely. Isaiah expertly manipulated Ali into only dancing with their mates. The minute she tried catching the eye of literally anyone else, he’d step in. 

Out in the city, he had no problem with who she danced with or who she made out with. In Small Heath, his and every other person’s eyes were at stake. But more importantly, his eyes were at stake!

Truthfully, Aliena wasn’t actually drunk— she was buzzed! But, she wasn’t drunk. She was mimicking Cassie’s behavior, who was on a completely different level drunkenness than her. She did it in a sense of solidarity and recklessness. She felt that since they were celebrating her birthday, since it was her night— she should be able to act freely. Especially when she was trapped in Birmingham per Tommy’s orders. 

Aliena was getting bored with just dancing and began to sing. She sang ‘Ain't No Other Man’ by Christina Aguliera. At first, it was just the mates who were aware that she was singing, but then other patrons heard her voice. Aliena was lifted in the air by a particularly strong ‘n tall patron and he set her down on the bar top. 

Aliena “under the influence” began to sing as clearly as she could and belt as loud as she could, as much in tune as she could manage. 

Not like they would know if she butchered the song or not.

Finn, who watched all of this go down, had enough. In his opinion, Aliena had gotten out of control ‘n it was out of his hands. So, he decided to get the big guns involved.

His senses were filled with her. Her perfume, the texture of her dress, the taste of her lips and the feeling of pressing them against his own. 

So, what had changed for him?

Tom wondered why her kiss didn’t set him aflame like it did months ago. 

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” She asked him. 

Tom kissed Grace again. 

“It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11:00, Grace.”

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York...”

“I had things to do.” He kissed her again, searching for that feeling. That feeling of completion and—! And wholeness.

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?”

“It couldn’t have worked. That was the question.” Their lips met once more ‘n fiercer this time ‘round.

Grace parted from the kiss and breathily asked. “Tommy… Tommy, do you have someone?”

‘Yes?’ He thought as the memory of Aliena looking back at him at the park flashed in his mind. Tom took a deep breath. “I have a racehorse. She’s gonna win the Derby.” He said. Tom joined their lips again and this time— they didn’t part after a few seconds.

Tom was desperately seeking that feeling of passion, but he figured he was gettin’ into his own head by rushing it. So, he took it slow. Grace slipped down the sleeves of her dress, and it hardly did anything for him.

It aroused him, of course, but—! It wasn’t the same. It was akin to the times he’s laid with a prostitute. 

‘You’re getting in your head, Tom. The feeling will come back. Take your time.’ He told himself. He led her backward toward the couch, his lips never parting from hers. 

The more time he spent kissing her, the more that pit in his stomach grew. 

That feeling wasn’t coming back. 

Tom trailed down to her neck, and he paid attention to Grace there before going back to her lips.

‘Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Give it some fuckin’ time, man!’

Then by the grace of God, the phone started going off. Tom parted from the kiss ‘n Grace’s hands flew to his face.

“Let it ring.” She rasped while trying to pull his face back to hers.

Tom never averted his gaze from the phone ‘n it didn’t stop ringing either. Annoyed, he got up from the couch and walked over to the telephone.

Tom had barely gotten the address out when Finn’s voice cut through the phone. “Tom, Tommy, are you there?”

“Finn, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Panic overwhelmed his being and Tom began buttoning up his shirt.

The pub could be heard through the phone and Tom swore he could hear Aliena, but he thought he was just imagining it. 

Finn cleared his throat. “Uh, Tom, it’s Ali. She’s kinda going outta control right now.”

“You are there when I'm a mess

Talk me down from every ledge

Give me strength, boy, you're the best!

You're the only one who's ever passed every test!” 

Aliena’s belting could be heard from over the phone ‘n Tom sighed, exhaustedly. 

Finn continued. “She’s dancing and singing on top of the bar at the Garrison. I just—! I don’t know. I thought you should know. I don’t know what to do! Do I just let ‘er or—?”

Tom exhaled deeply as he rubbed his forehead. “Finn, all right, calm down. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get her off the fucking bar top ‘n make sure she doesn’t do anything else.” He hung up the phone, turned around, and faced Grace.

She looked confused with her eyebrows drawn together and Tom was half surprised to see that her dress was still down. 

“Tommy,” She began. “What’s happened?”

Tom blinked before replying, “I, uh, I have to head back to Birmingham.”

“What?” She asked softly as she rose to her feet and slipped her sleeves back over her shoulders. 

Tom began putting his coat on as he said. “I can drive you, if you’d like, or you can call a Taxi.”

Grace scoffed while shaking her head. “You're serious, Tom?”

Tom looked at her like she stated the obvious and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Grace’s jaw dropped a little as did her head. She picked up her head, steeled her gaze, and stood up straighter. “I can find my own way back.”

He nodded again before motioning her to follow him out the door. 

The night didn’t go as he’d planned. But he had more important things to worry about. 

‘Fucking Aliena!’

Aliena was just glad she was able to finish her song before Finn and Isaiah pried her off the bar top. She had her little moment ‘n that’s all that mattered to her. ‘Cause she managed to get the attention of most of the lads in the pub.

Some were just staring at her from afar while others actually walked up to her. But they only managed to get a few words in before they were run off by Isaiah. At first it was cute. Yes, Aliena thought it was cute that Isaiah was scaring off the blokes that approached her— but then it got annoying. 

Why? Because he was ruining her fucking plan to lose her viriginity tonight!

“I’ma tell ya right now, mate. You either piss off or you’re losing your eyes, which one are you gonna pick?” Isaiah threatened the man in front of him.

The man scoffed and was about to say something when Isaiah reached up for his peaky cap.

“One...” Isaiah said ‘n that was all it took for the bloke to run off. 

  Aliena scoffed as she tried to look over Isaiah’s shoulder only to catch a glimpse of the guy running off. Aliena groaned and roughly shoved Isaiah in the chest. “The fuck are you doing, Saiah!” She shouted.

Isaiah raised his hands in surrender. “Look I’m sorry, Ali. All right, I’m sorry.”                              

Aliena’s face contorted in confusion and her head shook. “No, what the fuck is going on! You’ve never done this before, so what the ‘ell is up?”

Isaiah sighed and looked all around the room. He debated tellin’ her the truth or not, and he decided it would be easier if she just knew what was up. “Look, Ali… I can’t let any bloke in here have a go at you, all right?”

Her face didn’t change. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? The fuck you mean ‘you can’t let me’? Who’s...” Her voice trailed off as did her gaze.

‘No way!’ She thought. ‘There’s just no fucking way!’

Aliena huffed. “Di-Did Tommy—! Does Thomas have something to do with this?”

Isaiah nodded. He hesitantly said. “Tom… He ‘n the family ordered a long time ago that no one in Birmingham is allowed to have a go at ya. They’re not even allowed to accept a confession from you. And any Peaky Blinder who tries to disobey or not try ‘n help ya if you’re in danger, or knew about it ‘n let it happen— gets their eyes and tongues cut.”

Aliena was taken back by the rule. Some part of her was in awe that Tommy cared that much for her while the other was annoyed that he was. 

Why the fuck did he have to go ‘n do that? Why the fuck was he preventing her from going out with guys when he had no intention of going out with her himself? It was fucking ridiculous!

Her nose wrinkled in her anger before she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Aliena took a deep breath before clapping her hands in front of her. “Okay, Saiah! You have two options. One, you either keep on carrying out this ridiculous order Tom have you ‘n you’ll have to face my wrath. Or two, you call it a night and get out of my fucking way. So, what is it gonna be one or two?”

Isaiah didn’t hesitate. “Two.”

Ali raised her hand for a high-five, which Saiah reciprocated. “Good man.” Aliena said before walking off, on the prowl. 

It took sometime before the men in the pub realized Isaiah was no longer lurking around Aliena and began approaching her again. Aliena was picky when choosing the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. After all, what’s the point of doing it if she wasn’t going to enjoy it? She wanted a man she could look at and be aroused from. 

She was lucky enough to find one sitting at the bar when she walked over to get another drink. His name was Robert, last name unknown since she didn’t care for it. They made small talk, but Aliena wasn’t looking to get to know him. She just wanted to make sure she could get wet. 

And she found that she could, as she began imagining all the positions he could put her in. 

Tommy kept intruding on her imagination— hijacking her scenarios, but she’d just close her eyes ‘n take a moment. The next time she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Aliena brought her bevvy up to her mouth and took a sip before shoving Robert’s shoulder for something  he said. 

Unbeknownst to her, Tom had walked into the pub deadset on finding her. And that didn’t take very long. Tom witnessed Aliena’s little interaction firsthand. She was sitting on top of the bar top while flirting with some random fucking bloke. He didn’t know what infuriated him more.  

The fact that someone dared to go against his orders, or that she was flirting with someone in front of his face. 

Tom’s jaw dropped a little and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. He closed his mouth and nodded before he made a beeline for Aliena. As he grew closer, she’d finally noticed him. A smile on her face was quickly wiped off as Tom walked right up to her, tugged her off the top ‘n threw her over his shoulder.

Ali gasped and exclaimed. “What—!”

Tom hiked her further up his shoulder before spinning around and making his way toward the door. “Shut up, Ali.”

“--the fuck are you doing!”

Tom had no intention of letting her down. He feared she’d just talk her way out of it, or try to fucking run away. Tom was gonna give her the lecture of a lifetime whether she liked it or not. He wasn’t going to let her get the chance to go back to her mates and cause more embarrassment for herself. 

Aliena was shouting at Tom to let her down. She was pounding on his shoulder as an extra measure, but it wasn’t like she was doin’ it hard either. The pounding resembled more like knocking or somethin’.

Eventually, Aliena huffed and just let herself be carried to wherever he was taking her. From the streets he was walking, Ali soon realized they were going to his flat. She tsked and tried to support her head up. 

When they reached his front door, Tom hiked her up on his shoulder again before reaching for his keys. 

Aliena rolled her eyes as she muttered. “I can walk on my own two feet, you know.”

Tom ignored her as he struggled to get his door unlocked and open. It was difficult with a body over his shoulders, but he did it. The minute he walked through the door— he let Ali down. 

As she regained her footing, Tom locked the door behind him. Ali stabilized herself rather quickly and threw her head back with an overexaggerated groan as she stomped away from Tom ‘n toward the stairs.

Tom turned back ‘round and shouted. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Ali rolled her eyes and faced him. A hip dropped as she said. “To bed.”

He shook his head. “No.” Tom walked right up to her face and repeated. “No. We’re going to talk about the little show you put on at the pub. Huh?”

Ali averted her gaze from him and began shaking her leg.

Tom grabbed her chin and made her face him. “Huh? What the fuck was that t’night?”

Aliena couldn’t tell ya a blag. What he did went straight to her cunt and the fact she was looking to fuck tonight— did not help her case at all.

Tom released her chin and waited for Aliena to answer.

She sighed and waved her left arm out before letting it drop to her side. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Tom.”

He scoffed.

“I DON’T... know what you’re talking about ‘cause all I was doing was having some fun with my mates. That’s all.” 

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s not all. You got on that bar top and sang and danced. You got drunk ‘n started making a fool of yourself.”

Aliena tsked, rolling her eyes, and throwing her head back. “I wasn’t fucking drunk.”

“Yeah fucking right!”

Aliena looked at him in disbelief. “You know what! You weren’t even fucking there, so I don’t even know how the fuck you knew about what I was doing, by the way! Don’t tell me you had another Peaky Blinder looking after me. ‘Cause that’d mean you sicked three people on me tonight, and I’d want to know the fucking reason for that too. ”

“Finn phoned me, worried about ya. And I did not sick three people on you tonight. I only told Finn to look after you.”

Aliena sighed deeply at the news, her eyes rolling again. A hand came up to her forehead and she rubbed it. “Finn...” She whispered. “Of fucking course, that goddamn kid.” Aliena didn’t even look at Tom again. Instead, she waved him off as she turned around while walking toward the staircase. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Ali? We’re not done here!” He shouted as he watched her climb the stairs. His gaze naturally falling on her arse. 

She craned her head back a little as she replied. “Yes, we fucking are. Both of our emotions are high right now. There’ll be no moving forward in this conversation. So good night, Tom.” 

Tom shook his head, his pointer finger running over his bottom lip. Angrily, he ripped off his coat, and threw both it and his cap on his sofa. He marched up the stairs as he shouted for Aliena.

Dumbly, Ali was deciding which room she wanted to bunk in for the night, and it allowed Tom just enough time to catch up with her. He grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her into his room. He threw her into it, to which she cried out. 

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” She yelled. 

None of this was helping, by the way. This roughness he was handling her with. Yeah, she liked this! So, he wasn’t winning in the slightest.

His eyes were blown wide, and his hands were on his hips. With the wave of his finger, he asked. “Yeah ‘n who the fuck was that who you were talkin’ too? Eh!”

Aliena squeezed her hands into fists before letting them relax as she stifled her groan. “God, Tommy! Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Who was he, Aliena! I want a fucking name!”

“I DON’T KNOW! Okay? He’s name was Robert and that’s all I know.” She yelled louder than Tom, which was making his blood boil more. Aliena clapped her hands and with finger guns, she began. “You know fucking what? Answer my fucking question, Tom. Why the fuck do you care? Huh?”

Aliena inched closer to him, and making Tom stand up straighter, slightly.

“Why the fuck did you have your men scare away other men away from me? Explain it to me.”

Tom chuckled, humorlessly. “For your own protection, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “No. I would’ve believed you if you only ordered them to maim anyone who tried assaulting me. That would make it believable. But to put a city wide order that I was not to be fucking approached in the slightest! That even if I went up to them, they better run the other fucking direction unless they wanted to lose their eyes! No… Fucking no. So, tell me, Thomas. What the fuck is up?” 

Aliena was standing directly under Tom. She could hear his heavy breathing with clarity. He didn’t respond. She scoffed and walked away from him further into the room. 

By the grace of “intoxication,” Aliena felt like she was finally bold enough. She was going to blame it on the alcohol. If what she was about to do, backfired on her— she’d deny, deny, deny.

Tom watched as Ali walked away from him before facing him. The air about her was different. She didn’t look angry and annoyed anymore; she looked like she was on a mission. It was attractive. Seductive. Arousing.

Aliena’s fingertips trailed up her arm, an eyebrow raised as she said. “You wanna know why I was even talking to Robert, Thomas.” Her fingertips grazed up her left shoulder and across her collarbone. “It’s because I intended on fucking him.” Her voice trailed off at the end.

Tom’s head snapped up and he looked at her straight in the eyes, flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. 

‘She—! She was gonna what?’

Aliena giggled, humorlessly, as she took in Tommy’s expression. Her fingertips stopped her dance as she did so. Ali composed herself rather quickly ‘n she continued. “I was going to fuck him...” She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she said. “To finally get over you.”

Aliena cocked her head to the side and waited for his reaction. Tom shuffled his stance and tucked his hands into his pockets. He could feel his eyes glaze over and lust creep on him as Aliena teasingly had a single fingernail under the strap of her dress.

Aliena looked away before looking back at him. “So, there it is, Tommy. I said it. Now, you have two options. You either walk out that door, or...” Aliena attempted to look sexual as she slipped both of the straps of her dress down her shoulders ‘n let it fall to the ground. 

Tom gulped at the sight of her. Her bare breasts. The sight of her in nothing but her panties.

“You fuck me.” She finished, fixing her posture. 

Truthfully, she was trembling in anxiety. She hoped to God she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

Tom had to internally fight his demons and he needed to do it quickly, out of respect for her. It was a whole lot of, “should he” or “should he not.” But then, Aliena just had to trail her fingertip down her neck again with this far-off gaze and he knew his choice.

Tom rushed toward Aliena and captured her lips, hungrily. Aliena couldn’t help but gasp happily. Her mouth opening wide. Tom didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his tongue inside. He made her walk backward toward the wall. The pace caused Ali to be shoved into the wall. The pain that erupted in her back made her moan into his mouth. 

Tom’s hands trailed up from her waist all the way to her breasts and he squeezed them eagerly. Almost wantonly, Ali gasped with a smile again as she arched her back into Tom’s hands.

This… This is what Tom was talking about. This passion, this feeling of completion! This was it!

Tom parted from her lips which made her pant for air. He pressed kisses on the side of her mouth, her cheek, before peppering her neck with them. Aliena’s fingers found Tommy’s hair and she found herself pressing him closer against her neck. 

‘So, she feels it here...’ He thought.

Tom increased his antics. Nipping, sucking, and kissing her neck all over. While Aliena wasn’t moaning, she was panting ‘n gasping as if she couldn’t breath. Hitching as if she were in pain. 

Tom left her neck and lowered himself down to her breasts. He rolled her left nipple in his mouth while still kneading her right breast. When he decided to tug on her nipple with his teeth, he tugged on her right nipple with his fingers. Aliena gasped and yanked Tom’s hair as she arched her back into him further.

“Tommy...” She rasped. “I—! Please.” 

Mentally, it hurt her to plead like this. It sent her cheeks aflame, and she would’ve hid her face in embarrassment if she wasn’t feeling so much pleasure from running her fingers through his hair.

As Tom moved to her right tit, he shushed her and whispered against her skin. “Patience, love.”

Aliena’s breath hitched once more as Tom nibbled on her nipple, her thighs rubbed together. It did nothing, but allow her to get some pent up energy out of her. 

Tom let go of her right nipple with one last tug before he rose up a little to begin marking up the space above her breasts. Aliena giggled at him.

“So, are you a tits man, then, Tommy?” She asked breathily, a giggle at the end of her sentence.

Tom stopped sucking on a particular spot on her chest as he began to smile. He picked his head up and pecked her lips repeatedly. “Yours. I’ve. Been. Wanting to. Do this. To yours.”

Aliena’s hands had slid down to his face and she stroked his cheek lovingly. She parted from their pecks and whispered. “Who am I to deny you, then?”

Tom stared into her eyes before hooking his hands in the crooks of her knees and carrying her. Ali yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck before going into a giggling fit. Tom walked over to his bed and plopped her down on it. 

Aliena bounced as a result. Tom hurriedly back to yank his clothes off and cursed himself for wearing so many accessories. While Tom was working on taking off his shirt sleeve garters, Ali had scooted herself down the bed and worked on getting his belt off.

The whole situation was laughable, so Tom began to laugh— which made Aliena laugh. Once Tom got the bloody things off, Aliena had already thrown aside his belt and unzipped his pants. Tom bent down and tried to kiss Aliena. 

She realized what he was trying to do ‘n met him halfway by standing on her knees. Grateful that she allowed him to bend less, he continued working on unfastening the buttons on his vest ‘n shirt while slipping off his shoes. He took off his shoes, stepped out of his pants, and kicked them both away while throwing his vest and button up off his shoulders. 

The pair broke their kiss to let Tommy yank off his under shirt. Tom found her lips once more as he slowly climbed on top of her and hovered above her on his bed. After a minute or two more of kissing, he parted and asked against her lips. “Are you sure you want this, Aliena? We can stop right now.”

Ali stared into Tommy’s eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She nodded her head. “I want you, Tommy. It’s always been you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes a bit longer before Tom’s head ducked down and began trailing deep kisses all the way down to her groin where the hem of her panties lied. He placed kisses along the hem as he hooked his fingers into the side of the band, and slowly slid them down. 

Aliena’s eyes were closed shut and she was fisting the blankets of his bed. She flinched at every kiss he placed closer and closer to her cunt. 

Tom licked a long stripe upward toward Ali’s clit as he slid her panties down her legs entirely. Ali whimpered as her hips bucked. Tom couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. Aliena was biting her bottom lip so harshly that she was afraid it would split. 

Tom spread her pussy and started off slow before working his way toward violently flicking her clit with his tongue and sucking on it. Aliena still didn’t allow her moans to escape her, instead, only letting out whimpers, gasps, and pants. 

Aliena’s thighs clamped around Tom’s ears, but that didn’t stop him. Hell, it couldn’t even stop him from hearing her little mewls. 

Ali felt that familiar build up growing in the pit of her stomach, and her hand flew to Tom’s hair. “Tommy, I’m close!” She said. “Stop, please. I don’t wanna... without ya...”

Tom didn’t stop, in fact, he worked her faster. “Go on.” He rasped. “Come.”

Aliena’s hands flew to her face as her face contorted in pure pleasure. Tom didn’t like that. She was blocking the view. Ali threw her head back and finally let out an audible moan. Her hips wildly bucked against Tom’s mouth and chin, and he let her ride out her climax. 

He let go of her with a pop and a hiss. Tom took a deep breath, trying to catch it before sliding a finger along her opening. Aliena’s hands had fallen to the sides of her head. An uncontrollable smile on her face. She outstretched her arms and whispered, lovingly. “Tommy...”

Tom felt his heart swell and without stopping his teasing— he leaned toward her and kissed her as she wanted.

Aliena didn’t mind the taste of herself on his lips, she was used to it. Having been a chronic masturbator. Ali tugged on Tom’s bottom lip and when she finally let go, she coquettishly whispered. “Fuck me, Tommy, please. I’m ready.”

Tom’s eyes looked over her face and he chuckled. He pecked her lips before replying, “No, it’s your first time, Ali. I won’t be rough with you. This time.”

Ali’s mouth stretched upward into a smile and she bit her lip. “Promise?”

As Tom finally slipped a finger inside her— making her gasp, he rubbed his nose against hers, replying, “I promise.”

Tom slowly pumped his finger in and out of Ali, and truthfully, the girl felt nothing. She’s teased her hole with her fingers loads of times. So, it was just a foreign feeling. But for the sake of seemingly “innocent,” she began panting a little.

Tom added a second finger and then a third— and that’s when she felt something. Her pants turned real and she wondered if he had to add the third finger so that she could accommodate to his size. She still hadn’t seen him. 

Meanwhile, Tom was handling his delayed satisfaction just fine. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, so he was lucky enough to just be able to focus on making this the best experience for Aliena as possible. When he felt that her pussy was sucking his fingers in, instead of trying to push them out— he removed them. 

Aliena moaned and looked up at Tom. Tom misinterpreted her gaze as her being scared and was quick to reassure her that everything would be alright. In reality, Aliena was just startled that her pleasure had been taken away from her.

She never thought she’d get off on fingers. She thought it was impossible for her. 

‘You really do need someone else’s fingers.’ She thought.

Tom pulled down his boxers and kicked them away. He was about to gather her wetness when Ali took his hand and pulled it toward her mouth. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and let it fall down onto his hand. His cock throbbed in his hand at the action. 

He couldn’t believe that she’d be this tempting. 

Tom lathered his cock in Ali’s spit and pumped his cock a few times, hissing at the pleasure he gave himself before lining up to Aliena’s entrance. Tommy hovered above her and took his free hand, and interlocked it with hers. 

“You ready?” He asked once more.

Aliena nodded. “Yes, yes, please...”

Tom kissed Ali as he slowly entered her. Ailena moaned from the sensation. Tommy began littering the side of her mouth and cheek with kisses. They both groaned when he was fully sheathed inside her. Her walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

Made him grunt from the sensation. 

Aliena wasn’t in pain, but it has certainly been awhile since a cock has been inside her. Not to mention, she was still pretty sure this body was a virgin. There was no pain, but there was a lot of pressure. She couldn’t tell if he was big or not.

Aliena just felt very “full” and “satisfied.”

“Move, Tommy.” She rasped.

Tom breathily chuckled. “I can’t. You haven’t gotten used to it, yet.”

Aliena gripped his chin and made him face her. “Tommy, move slowly. I want to feel you.”

How the fuck could he deny that?

Slowly, Tom began moving his hips. He’d pull out just enough so his tip won’t fall out and then slide all the way back in. Ali whimpered at the feeling, but after enough times— she found herself wanted more. So, she vocalized it.

“Faster, Tommy.” 

Tom complied to her wishes and began thrusting faster. He found himself admiring this whole situation. Intoxicated on the feeling he’d been missing from… Yeah.  It was Ali. He’d fallen in love with Ali. 

Tom was taking in every reaction she had. With her legs wrapped around his waist, her breasts bouncing softly with each thrust, and her face contorted in pleasure. She couldn’t hide since their fingers were interlocked. 

Tom’s breath began to waiver as pants and grunts escaped his lips. He picked up the pace to which Ali couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. This only encouraged Tom to go even faster. 

“Fuck, Tommy! Yes!”

Ali was unsure of what she was feeling. She couldn’t tell if she was climbing toward her big O, or if she was getting off on pleasing him. She actually never orgasmed when using her dildo, but this was different. Sex with Tommy was different, of course it was, and that’s what threw her off. 

It wasn’t till Ali began bucking her hips upward did she realize she was really feeling it. Ali admired Tom’s blissed out face. She was doing this to him, and it absolutely gave her an ego boost. 

They were meeting each other’s thrust so roughly that all you could hear was skin slapping against skin along with the sloppy wet sound coming from Aliena’s pussy. It fueled them both with more lust for one another. 

Aliena felt that pit in her stomach again and she cried out as did Tom since her pussy tightened around his cock. He was so close and her tightening didn’t help at all. 

“Tommy, I’m clo—!”

Tom slammed his lips on hers before reaching down with one hand and began rubbing her clit. Aliena’s hips stuttered, her legs trembled, and her grip on Tommy’s hand turned iron. Tom pounded into her cunt, overwhelmed with pleasure. Aliena’s squeal as she came was muffled by Tom’s kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her back arched into his chest. 

Tom wasn’t too far behind. He parted from the kiss and looked up at the ceiling as he came. Strained pants escaped him as he rode out their highs. Tom hiked Aliena’s legs up and got incredibly deeper which made Aliena giggle and sigh.  

Ali was surprised at how fucking nice it felt to be came inside of, but she loved every minute of it. Ali was the one to capture Tom’s lips this time and when she parted, she asked.

“You down for a round two?”

Tommy chuckled as he rested his forehead against her own. “Why the fuck not!”

Aliena gasped as he flipped them over with her now on top. Aliena laughed breathily and steadied herself by placing both of her hands on Tom’s chest. Tom was taken back at how sexy she was above him.

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[mrs-hollandstan]

Can I request mob tom Holland & reader, their marriage is arranged, Tom is not happy abt it as he loves someone else, he's cold towards her but she's a dedicated wife. He starts falling for her but feels guilty & is even more rude to her. Harrison realises it & dances with reader in party & gets all touchy, Tom gets jealous & has rough possessive sex with reader. Later he talks to her apologizes & all fluffy.

Okay, so I changed it a lil because I got an idea for a soulmate writing like this in the shower last night haha so here’s that, but I’m actually pretty proud of it and I hope you enjoy. Some NSFW down below.

Tom could have been arranged with any other woman in the world, but when it just so happened to be his soulmate, he was more irritated than ever and just nasty to you, mostly because he didn't enjoy the idea of being forced into a relationship just because the universe said so. He was cold and pissed beyond belief every time he was forced to be in the room with you. He liked making you jealous, liked spiting you when he slept with other girls. You were relatively neutral in sexual excursions just out of pure fascination and the fairytale like idea associated with soulmates. And Tom found that even after you were married and you were sweet in the beginning, you didn't seem to care about the women that came in the house for Tom. Even if you felt everything he did to them. 

The more he realized you turned a blind eye to avoid the fighting and the fluttering in your belly whenever he walked in a room just off of the idea that the universe wanted you together, the more he realized why the universe wanted you together. The match was uncanny, you were a balance. You were beautiful, smart and perfect and it just made Tom more angry. He was meaner, and Harrison was starting to catch onto why. He liked to refer back to that urban myth from primary school where if someone bullied you, they liked you. And for Tom, it was true. 

The night of a GALA held at Tom's mansion, Harrison had been the sweetest thing ever. He was pretty too and Tom could feel everything you felt towards his best friend. Especially the way Harrison's arm wrapped around you and you leaned into him, laughing about something he said. You'd had alcohol, Tom could feel the buzz, and the way Harrison met his eyes told Tom that Harrison was doing it on purpose. And Tom watched you lean against Harrison as he swayed you back and forth on the dance floor, your head laid over his shoulder. The warmth Harrison exuded made Tom warm and you felt the jealous flurry in yourself, but chose to ignore it instead relishing in the affection Harrison was providing that you hadn't had in a while. You loved the way Harrison laid his head over yours to make you feel safe. That is until it's ripped away from you. 

Harrison is careened back and punched in the nose, blood immediately gushing from the broken appendage as your body absolutely burns in a jealous rage so strong it brings tears to your eyes,

"Don't you ever do that again!" Tom screams in his best friend and right hand man's face, eyes dark and crazy before he grabs your wrist and tugs you after him towards a lounge around the ballroom. He slams the door, bracing you against it as he flicks the light on. He cages you between his arms and it should scare you, but it doesn't because the feelings he has coursing through him aren't anger towards you but something foreign. Lust, want. He leans in suddenly, his lips pressed to yours. He presses his body to yours when you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair, his arms wrapped around your waist after a moment. He lifts you, your legs binding around his waist as he carries you to the small couch in the room. He lays you on it rather roughly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. You reach beneath your dress to scurry from your panties, Tom's eyes hooded and dark, never pulled from you before he's forcing you to your knees, gently nudging into you. But he doesn't let up. The second he knows you're adjusted, he's pounding into you, his heart encased in a prideful glow. He's the reason you're whimpering and crying, not Harrison. 

He brushes the sparkly, baby blue dress up over your hips, drawing his hand back to swat your ass roughly. You jolt, letting out a yelp and he does it again to the other cheek,

"Aah fuck." You whimper, dragging your nails across the fabric of the couch beneath you. Tom growls, dragging you up further by your throat, his hand wrapping in your hair as he demolishes you still, 

"You like that love? You like feeling so full of your husband's cock?" He spits, watching you nod. He knows that this is all you've ever wanted. You've always wanted to have him all over you, praising you, being rough with you, giving you the affection Harrison had. He knows you're touch starved because every time someone does touch you, whether it's a brush of your hands or rubbing up your arm, whatever it is, you ache minutes, hours after it, wanting more,

"Answer me the correct way." He growls in your ear, listening to you whimper, 

"Yes! Yes I love being full of your cock. Fuck!" You cry out, letting him push you back down, shoulders pressed to the cushion beneath you as he amps up his speed, screams and cries leaving your lips as he reaches beneath you to strum your clit. You move back against him, listening to him grunt and moan. You know he's almost there and he knows you are too, leaning over you to nip at your ear, 

"Cum for me. Show me how much you appreciate this cock." He growls, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, 

"Fuck Tom… fuck!" You cry, letting out a string of curses before you cum and he swats your ass again, praising you through it, 

"Good girl." He coos as he draws out and jerks his own cum out across your lower back. He pants as you lay beneath him, struggling to catch your breath. When he stands and isn't touching you, he can feel the panic that sets in you, he can feel the used feeling that courses through your body like blood, he can feel the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes as he finds a towel to dry you off with. He returns, your eyes avoiding of his before he fixes his tie and huffs, brushing your dress down, 

"Sorry I just uhh, I didn't… I didn't like seeing him all over you. It uhh… it made me… jealous. And I don't know why because… I've always said I hated you but… I don't think I do." He mutters, sitting on the floor in front of you. You sit up, finding your underwear, 

"You broke his nose." He waves a hand in front of you, 

"I know. And I owe him because I know he did it on purpose. Danced with you…" He says. You cock your head, 

"What do you mean?" You can feel the uncertainty within him as he swallows, avoiding your eyes, 

"He… knows how I've felt about you recently." He murmurs, your eyebrows knitting together as he fixes himself, running his fingers through his curls,

"What?" You ask. He glances up at you, dark eyes sparkling. He swallows and nods, glancing behind you, 

"Yeah I uhh, h-he likes to tell me that it's like that uhh, ya know, if someone bullies you, they like you-"

"So you're trying to tell me you've… been mean to me because you… like me?" You ask. He sighs and nods, 

"Yeah and now I feel fucking guilty about it. I just… I realized a while ago that you're pretty and smart and you don't have a care in the world and it's so different from me and I… I understand now why the world put us together. I need the balance." He explains, eyes finding yours. And you can tell he isn't lying. He feels warmth, feels comfort in your company, feels a buzz in his heart that is pure adoration for you. You crawl onto the floor with him, sitting at a distance as if you've crawled into a lion's den. Your mouth hangs open for a moment, shoulders coming up in a shrug,

"Wow, I didn't know." You let out breathlessly. He nods, 

"I know. And… I'm… sorry for the way I've treated you." He says with a sigh. After another moment sitting across from him, staring at the face you’ve been in love with, unknowingly, since you were ten, you crawl forward and lay your head over his shoulder warrily. He relaxes after another moment, laying his head against yours. You reach out and take his hand, his fingers falling around yours and squeezing. You sigh,

“I forgive you… if it’s any consolation.” You mutter. He hums, 

“You shouldn’t be so forgiving with me. I’ve been very rude to you.”

“Yeah but whether or not you were doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate and that’s all that matters. That’s why I’ve given off those feelings within me that I didn’t care about all those other girls. It’s because I know that you’re my soulmate and whether you like it or not, I knew eventually you’d come around.” He purses his lips,

“That’s all you’ve wanted and I’ve let you down.” He says with another sigh,

“But now look at us.” You remark, drawing his eyes to yours with a finger under his chin. He hums, eyes cast down to your lips for a moment before he leans into kiss you softly,

“I am sorry. I promise I’ll try. I’m… I’m over having enemies outside of this fucking house and turning you into an enemy under my roof. I have… the opportunity sitting right in front of me to a good life, a family, and I just need to stop being such an ass. I just… I do wanna accept what you’re… offering as far as love goes.” He remarks softly, cheeks burning red. You giggle,

“You don’t have to be embarrassed admitting you want me to love you Tom.” You remind, rubbing his leg. He nods,

“I know but… it’ll be weird for the both of us, having to adapt to… doing things together and being together and… finally accepting being in love.” He admits. You nod,

“Definitely, but we’ve got this Tom. No one has to know if you’re that uncomfortable. But we can do it.” You reassure. He nods, glancing up for a moment before he licks his lips,

“I want to. I do want to and I want Harrison to know more than anyone.” He says with a chuckle. You smile, 

“After you apologize for breaking his nose.” You mutter. He chuckles again,

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He admits before huffing and standing, holding his hands out for you. You stand, holding his hands tight in yours. He sighs, 

“I uhh, when we get seriously into this, I think we should… we should have a wedding. I like you in dresses.” He says. You smile, running your hands up his arms,

“Right, yeah, I know how you feel about girls in dresses Tom. But yeah… a wedding sounds really nice.” You admit, his eyes lighting up as a smile crosses his face,

“Anddddd…”

“Yeah, I know what happens after we actually get married. I think it could be a good time.”

“Me too.”

“Only because you like sex. Interesting idea to see you with a baby.” You mutter. He chuckles,

“I could be a good father.”

“I think that’s definitely something for the future. A wedding is more plausible than kids right about now.” You admit. He nods,

“That’s valid. Now… I gotta… go find Haz.” You nod,

“I’ll come with. Just because I’m worried about him.” He nods in return, holding your hand as he walks you towards the door. He swallows, glancing down at your hands, other hand resting on the doorknob. His eyes meet yours then, sparkling in thought before he nods and you know it’s him coming to terms with being dedicated to you. And for once, he’s actually excited to be your soulmate.

[gemstoneconstellations]

Alternate Timeline for HBAN (Bakugo as the love interest)

Someone asked about what if Hero By Another Name was a Bakugo/Reader fic on Youtube awhile back and I made a hc for it. I decided to post it now cause why not.

all the events that happened in original hban would have still happened. Just no romance feelys with kirishima

just pure admiration between you and your favorite hero

but bakugo thinks they have feelings for each other

after the camping trip, when you start texting him and hanging out, he thinks it’s just because he’s kirishima’s best friend and he thinks of this as an opportunity to push you two together

he didn’t expect to actually enjoy his time with you

“maybe you aren’t so bad, you are a big jerk who really needs to learn his inside voice but you aren’t so bad.”

it was interesting to see someone who was actually as competitive as him, he didn’t think he ever time himself washing the dishes to prove that he’s faster at it

you mentioned off-handedly that maybe you should buy some ground zero merch now that the two of you were friends.

He had a bunch of his hero merch from before they’d been officially released. He usually just gave them to kids at his meet and greet events but he logic it out that he was doing you a favor by giving it to you so your place didn’t look like a shrine to red riot anymore…. It didn’t give him any warm fuzzy feelings at all, seeing you wear one of his shirts or cuddle his grenade pillows, nope.

for some reason, he felt guilty when he hung out with you alone. He always felt like kirishima was watching and he was betraying his best friend’s trust, and tried to keep it to a minimum

movie night was weird to him, he could see you and kirishima had a great relationship and obviously you two would be great together but neither one of you are making any moves.

You fell asleep sitting next to Bakugo and instead of leaning against the guy you clearly liked, you leaned against him. While bakugo was panicking on what to do and how to explain it to Kirishima, he looked over only to see the redhead laughing into his hand and taking pictures with his phone. Who does that while their crush uses another guy as a pillow?!

when you ask him for help with getting the perfect gift for kirishima’s birthday he felt happy that you wanted to rely on him

he thinks you’re an idiot, when he tells you that it was obvious that the two of you liked each other you looked at him with confusion “I think I would know if I liked someone, I can tell you with confidence that the only feelings I got for kirishima is pure admiration. You on the other hand, it’s still up for debate. Sometimes I feel like you are a lot of fun, other times I feel like setting you on fire.”

bakugo actually smiles at you “arsonist firefighter, very original. You always had the firebug, mut?”

“only when you cheat at video games, asshole”

now bakugo was under the impression that kirishima was currently in a one-sided romance with someone that he may or may not enjoy hanging out with.

the ‘magazine incident’ happens. Kirishima feels bad that you got caught up in the media again but thought this was an opportunity to tease bakugo by texting him “hey, I didn’t know you two were dating? Bro, what about the code.”

Bakugo, who was on a mission at the time, didn’t know what the text was about until he noticed his social media account being blasted. He definitely did not panic, not at all, is what he told himself

Bakugo pretended to be too busy to talk to kirishima while on the mission and didnt tell him when he came back, but he forgot since he was on the same mission with Deku, the fucking nerd blabbed about them getting back so the redhead was at his place with takeout cause hes so fucking conciderate and knew Bakuog would be too tired to cook

Kirishima would try to tease Bakugo about the article and Bakugo would finally snap, “Nothing fucking happened and nothing is happening between me and the shitty firefighter! You don’t have to worry!”

Kirishima was shocked and confused. They have a long talk and he explains how you and him are only friends and there is no way he could ever date you. Bakugo tried to point out all the signs that would insinuate that they liked each other but it made Kirishima laugh. “Are you sure you’re not projecting on me and you aren’t the one with a crush?”

“The fuck?! No!” Bakugo denied it, you and him, dating?! No, fuck that, that’s weird.

Now the idea is in his head, he caught himself looking at you more when the three of you hung out. He avoids being alone with you much as possible.

Kirishima notices bakugo’s very obvious behavior. “You know, I was kidding before but now…. You can make a move if you want? Don’t deny your feelings cause you think I like her, which I don’t.”

Bakugo thought about it, unlike with most people, he actually had fun with you and like that you would bounce off of him. Always throwing back a challenge yourself. So instead of avoiding you, he just kind of let things take their course as he figured out how he felt now that he wasn’t trying to get the two of you together.

There was a huge fight with a villain with a fire quirk that caused an office building to catch fire. Bakugo stayed back helping those who got out with basic first aid while waiting for the emts and other heroes went inside the building.

Firefighters showed up on the scene and got quickly to work to rescue people and put out the flames.

You came out, a full grown ass man wrapped in your firefighter coat on your shoulder, walking out of the burning building like a fucking beautiful badass. Bakugo was in awe as you placed the man down on a stretcher near him. “Hey Ground Zero, was this your fault again? Where’s Red Riot to save the day again?”

“It wasn’t fucking me… this time. I beat the shit out of the ass who did.”

You just laughed at him, rolling your eyes “uh huh.”

This is the moment when Bakugo finally makes a move. “So to make up for you cleaning up my mess again, we’re going out. And it’s a date.” he didn’t leave any room for you to argue.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil (Part 24)

Got this chapter done, now lets see if I can get the Azula & Alcina one done lol.

She is nearly certain that they are drawing closer to the spirit who now owns her voice; the jungle is growing denser--at points, almost impassably so--and the lesser spirits are tormenting her with more fury than they have in a while.

Her neck is a mess of pinch marks and her legs, arms, belly, and face are riddled with claw marks. She is beginning to fear infection, with so many welts to have to keep clean. She is frustrated to tears by the petty injuries.

“It’s alright.” Seicho reassures softly as she dabs a wet cloth to the princess’ arms. Though the water has come from the spirit pools and their crystalline, pure surfaces, she still doesn’t trust the water. Azula feels as though Seicho is rubbing bacterias into the cuts. Her legs are freshly bandaged and her arms are getting there. But they are running low on bandages, they’d only anticipated a few minor cuts or, perhaps, one or two larger accidents. They hadn’t accounted for a steady flow of superficial wounds.

Seicho sets her other arm down and Azula lifts her shirt. Seicho wrings the cloth out and brings it to the largest gash on her belly. This is the largest gash on her body. She cringes at the stinging flared up by the cloth. Water trickles cool and uncomfortably down her torso. The only worse discomfort comes from the second largest cut, a sharp throbbing on the back of her knee that hurts more and more every time she bends her leg. She is the most concerned about this one, alongside a decent clawmark near her armpit, this is the slash most likely to get infected.

“You doing okay?” Zuko asks.

Azula grits her teeth and nods. She is doing as well as she can. At least she has people to care for her, to help her cleans her wounds. She dabs a different cloth to her cheek and reaches for her parchment. Zhang-Zin hands it to her. ‘I hope that we find it soon.’ More so she hopes that their trip won’t be in vain. Agni forbid they’d come all this way just to be turned away.

She imagines a scenario where the spirit kills her for her audacity to approach it.

“It can’t be too far.” Mai shrugs. “The little ones wouldn’t be chittering this much if we weren’t getting close.” She confirms Azula’s own suspicions.

Azula climbs back to her feet and sighs. She is surprised that she can do even that. Seicho takes her hand and gives it a decent squeeze. This time it does very little to reassure her. With each step she feels that she is growing closer to her own complete and irreversible undoing. Closer to the second biggest mistake she’d ever make.

“That looks like it hurts.” Seicho remarks of one of the scratch marks on her arms. It is leaking quite steadily, three parallel trails of resentment gone unchecked.

‘It is more of an annoyance.’ She writes as she walks, nearly tripping over an unearthed root. It is more than just an annoyance though it isn’t quite pain either. Or perhaps it is and she has just grown used to it.  She has grown used to pain of several varieties and each is as unpleasant as the next.

“Are you sure that you’re going to be alright, Azula?” Zuko asks.

She gives him only a small nod. She is alright for now, though she isn’t certain that, that will be the case for much longer. She pushes aside a curtain of lichen and vine to reveal an enchanting jungle oasis. A dazzling spot where the veil between the physical and spirit worlds is precariously thin.

The water of the swimming hole is somehow purer than the pools that she has seen prior. Crystalline to the point where the ripples glitter and gleam regardless of how the sun hits them or if it hits them at all. At the edge of the treeline, plantlife is mundane, ordinary. It grows stranger and stranger still the closer it grows to the spirit pool. Azula steps over glowing flowers and fungi until she comes to iridescent plants that she has no name for. The smallest of the spirits linger around these plants, either eating from them or nesting within them.

And their music is sweet; their voices like the tinkling of chimes and the ringing of bells. Like the whisper of a breeze through a moonlit forest and the shimmer of the sun on the back of a toad-squirrel. Each sound is lilting and gossamer. Each sound leaves her with a sense of longing. Deep within her soul she knows what she is hearing.

She is listening to the timbre of voices long since stolen. Voices of people who have since come to pass. Voices that have, overtime, become something of nature rather than of humanity. She wonders what her own voice will sound like, what nature noise it will come to emulate if she can’t reclaim it. Or maybe it will simply remain with the spirit that had taken it, a fate iller than the other voices face.

She puts only a foot into the clearing and a dozen tiny heads turn to face her. Almost involuntarily she moves closer to Seicho. She has the decency to feel small in the presence of the spirit that assembles itself before her. Iridescent wisps rise from the flowers, the fungi, the moss, and the pool. They ebb off of the waterfall and coil down and away from strands of ivy. Each and every one coming together to form the tall, sylphlike figure of the spirit.

“It’s beautiful.” Zhang-Zin gasps.

She wishes that she could disagree, but it is. It is sublime, alluring, one of the most beautiful things that she has ever seen alongside one of the most frightening. And it is pretty in its fearsomeness. She finds herself feeling faint but she steps forward to meet it. There is a tingle on her tongue, an itch in her throat.

She wonders if she will be able to talk even if she gets her voice back, having sliced her own tongue so deeply. What if she has ruined herself beyond repair. What if she has always been ruined, broken at birth--destined for some sort of shattering.

The last wisp comes to rest at the base of the spirit’s throat shimmering a vivid golden blue. Her heart aches and her tummy flutters. She touches her fingers to her own throat.

She feels Seicho squeeze her shoulders. “Go on, Azula.” She whispers and Azula creeps away from her, parchment and brushes in hand, though she has a feeling that she won’t need them. The spirit knows what she is here for.

The smaller spirits gather around their guardian, hissing and spitting at her--slowly whittling her bravado and courage away. She has already pushed her luck so terribly far. She wonders if it would really be so bad to live a very quiet life with Seicho. Seicho who has already demonstrated that she is willing to work with and around her mutness.

She puts her brushes to the parchment and tries to work out how best to address the spirit.

She thinks that she has taken too long for its liking because she hears it, charming and chilling all at once--her own voice. Mixed amid several others it meets her ears. “You have come for your voice.” She has never felt such a ravenous longing.  She sees Mai and Zuko shift with discomfort. Seicho and Zhang-Zin don’t know just what they are hearing. And she thinks that they are lucky for it, they can stand idle and unflinchingly.  

She nods at its question.

“Why should I give it to you? What are you going to use it for?”

There are many things that come to mind. She would like to apologize to TyLee, would like to have easier discussions with Mai, would like to test how it feels to let emotion slip into her speech when she converses with Zuko. It dawns upon her that she has never really used her voice to its fullest--working only with careful and level tones and inflections. She wants to know what she can do with her voice. Yearns to know if she can do as much good with it as she had done sinister.

She thinks that these are fair answers, but the one she writes down is quite different. Put on parchment before she can stop her hand. ‘I want her to hear her name on my tongue. I want to tell her that I love her.’ Her fingers brush over the back of Seicho’s hand as she holds the parchment up.

The strand of her voice glints, she thinks that it does so with a degree of mockery. A smile splays over the spirit’s face, “I love you…” the rest of the voices fall away until it is just her own “...Seicho.”

It runs like a shiver down her spine. She feels almost sick. Somehow, Seicho smiles. And when she speaks she turns away from the spirit. She brushes Azula’s hair out of her face and replies, “I love you too.” The princess very nearly weeps, perhaps it handn’t come from her own lips but at least Seicho got to hear it. At least Seicho knows now, how delicate her words could be, what her voice sounds like. At least, in some way or another, she had gotten to tell the girl that she loved her. At least this venture won’t be completely without pay off.

She tucks the parchment away and touches her throat once again. This close to her voice, she feels a beating at its base. She holds her hand out and reaches for the golden-blue wisp. One final gesture of longing.

Seicho gently lowers her arm before she can do it herself. “It’s alright, Azula.” She smiles. “You got to say it.”

Azula nods. Faintly she thinks that she should put up more of a fight.

“That’s it, you’re just going to give up?” Zuko asks.

But he doesn’t understand; it no longer matters. The most important thing has already been said. She gives him a small smile and gently tugs on his arms. Mouthing that they should leave the spirits in peace. Leave before their patience burns away.

“Can you mouth the words?” Seicho asks.

Azula furrows her brows.

“Mouth the words, ‘I love you’.” She requests. At Azula’s nod she turns to the spirit and requests, “say it again.”

It returns with a question of its own, Azula’s voice comes back to her sounding perplexed, “do you love her.” It points at her.

Seicho slings an arm over her shoulder and nods. “Very much.” She pauses. “I want to hear her say it again.”

The spirit stoops down, low enough to be at eye level with her. Azula swallows, the tingling in her throat intensifies. Intensifies until she is met with an urge to claw at her throat to alleviate the itch. The golden blue wisp writhes on the spirit’s neck as it breaks away.

She watches it meander on the soft breeze, shimmering and flashing as it crawls over her own throat. It works its way up like a fingertip trailing up her neck until it slips between her lips. She hadn’t thought that her voice would have a taste. But it does and it is sharp like cinnamon and cool like passionfruit.

There is a beating and a pulsing at the base of her throat, an almost uncomfortable undulation. A new wisp moves to cover the one that the spirit had shed.

She can feel the vibration of her vocal cords but she can’t bring herself to make use of them yet.

[thebeautyofdisorder]

Did You Miss Me? Adlock One-Shot, Rated M

Just in case the whole ‘links in posts make your shit invisible’ issue is still present, I’ll post directly to tumblr as well. Because why not? Here there be s-mut-tastic Adlock. Written over four years ago, and post Series 3 but Pre-Abominable Bride.

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Pairing: Adlock (Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler)

Rating: At least Mature, probably Explicit

Summary: Shameless and mostly plot-less smut. One-Shot. After the events of His Last Vow, Irene is already waiting for Sherlock at 221B. This was written before The Abominable Bride was released so it's only canon compliant so far as the end of series 3. Any other details, minimal as they are, were based purely on speculation at the time. 

Read below or if you’d prefer an AO3 link, I’ve posted it in a previous post on my blog. Also have ff.net if you’re feeling nostalgic. Ask and ye shall receive. The tags on AO3 do warn of obvious sexual content and minor but present knife play.

 Irene Adler was perched on his chair, hair loose, down, and slightly curled, his red dressing gown wrapped around her figure this time, the threat of whether or not she was naked underneath it unable to be ascertained from the naked eye at the position she was currently in. She tapped her uncharacteristically plain nails on the arm of the chair, lost in thought, only to be rescued from it by the turn of the key in the door and the stepping in of 'The Man.'

 She licked her blood-red lips (the one indulgence she had been unable to forsake and thus, permitted herself, from her 'old life') before a small smirk tugged at her lips as his eyes fell      into     hers, and she murmured coyly, "Thought I'd save you the phone call, dear. I do feel for your 'phone anxiety.'" She teased him lightly, coming to a stand finally and taking a step or two towards him.

 Sherlock drank her in with a combination of more or less equal parts delight and dread, neither of which showed through fully on his face. Mostly what came through, perhaps to his chagrin, was just a bounty of relief.

 "No complications in arriving, I hope?" He murmured with a quirk of his brow, slowly gliding towards her as well, by instinct more than thought. He didn't ask how she knew to come - not relevant nor surprising. "Weren't followed or harassed, or even vehemently stared at?" His lips barely twitched.

 She bit her bottom lip coquettishly, staring at him up through her thick, made-up eyelashes as she took another step towards him and glided a hand up his chest, carefully avoiding the area of his bullet wound before coming up to drag it along his left cheekbone.

 "Not until now...." She husked gently. "I'm very good at staying incognito when I need to be... Especially if it means getting to my      lover     faster..." She winked, knowing his distaste for the term, though lovers in the Elizabethan sense, they most certainly were, if not more.

 He pulled a face and made a bit of a rumble of discontent from his throat, over-dramatising his distaste accordingly.

 "Don't make me more ill, I just spent all afternoon with my brother," he teased, though his hand was almost absentmindedly playing over the curve of her hip in his dressing gown, stroking the edges of his fingernails over the lightly striped fabric, but only just. "Granted it was coming to agreement on how I      don't     have to go get myself killed in Eastern Europe, so I suppose it was productive..."

 She nodded slowly, leaning up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck as she pressed her lips to his 'chastely'-      titillatingly     before pulling back quickly to take a step back and slap him hard across his cheek.

 "Don't you      ever    allow yourself to get shot and almost die on me, ever again, do you hear me, Sherlock Holmes? If a woman ever does hold a pistol to you again, it will be      me    --though the context may be      questionable    ...." She softened on the last word, the same hand that gave the blow now coming up to soothe the sting.

 "Sorry, darling... Delayed reaction from my little hospital visit…”

 His eyes were sharp as he stared down at her, but not in a particularly vicious way, his jaw tensing in a brief tick of annoyance. He didn't protest. Instead, his arm shot out and ensnared her waist, yanking her body against his and nearly off of her bare feet, in retort for her assault.

 "Fair enough, Miss Adler, I'll vye for immortality if you'll join me," he challenged dryly, angling his head down at her.

 She cracked a smile, a dark but gentle chuckle following after it as she weaved her arms around his neck and knocked per pelvis against his.

 "Mmm, gladly, Mr Holmes. Think of all the      'dinners'    we could have....." She purred, her fingers tangling in his hair slowly, nails scraping along his scalp.

 He barely managed to bite back a groan. Damn woman knew his weaknesses. Luckily, it was mutual. He stroked a hand up and across her torso, across her chest leisurely, and up lightly to her throat. He spun on his heel and walked her backward, til her back pressed against the wall.

 "I believe infinity might actually bore us," he observed darkly, his other hand stroking down her hip, bunching the fabric of his dressing gown in his hand as he went.

 She gasped in appreciation as he pressed her against the wall slowly, her eyes darkening and her grip on his locks tightening as he sparked her arousal further.

 "Mm, perhaps... Though I don't think I could ever tire of...      you    ." She flirted sentimentally, though one hand had come down to grip his loins over his trousers as she uttered the last word, making it clear the ‘true’ direction of the compliment.

 A sharp intake of breath notwithstanding, his eyes merely narrowed at her as he pulled the dressing gown to the side, his hand gripping the bare flesh of her thigh with a sort of carnal relief. His hand stroked the creamy expanse of skin for a moment before hiking it up to his hip, fitting himself against her far more snugly in the process.

 "You are probably the only human being I could fathom not boring me after a century...you'd be too in danger of boring yourself," he murmured, now a breath away from her lips.

 She arched her neck back softly, a small moan escaping her throat as he 'manhandled' her and his own arousal met hers, though sadly obstructed by his clothing.

 "Mm, likewise, I'm sure." She replied tartly, tugging the dressing gown all the way down and off her torso to expose her breasts to him finally, waiting a moment to drink in his reaction.

 "Tell me, Sherlock dear, how long has been since we last      'ate?'    " She asked him in instigation.

 His eyes zeroed in on her chest, dark and searing, and his free hand came up to stroke over the curve of her left breast, indulgently. He narrowed his eyes in playful consideration before glancing back up.

 "One year, five months, two weeks, and three days," he rumbled as he ducked his head to take the bud of her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it as he applied suction.

 "Mmmahh!" Irene gave him a breathy moan, an echo of his text alert from days past, as his mouth accosts her breast, much to her appreciation and delight. "Mm, I do adore your addiction to precision and retaining facts...." She husked, as her hands, both now, tangled in his hair further, allowing them both to enjoy his actions for a few moments before she pulled his head back roughly, eyeing him darkly as she placed her foot against his hip suddenly and kicked him back.

"However, I also adore your 'selective patience,' emphasis on 'selective.'" She chided him, untying the dressing gown and letting it pool completely at her feet before she turned on her heel and padded her way to the kitchen. She ran a finger along the middle table, only pausing as her eyes spotted his microscope and smiled to herself before glancing back at him, coy and conspiring. She then turned back and leaned down to gaze into it, her bent over, bare arse, purposefully holding a place of prominence in his eyesight.

 He rolled his eyes and quietly  groaned to himself at her playing the coquette. Again. He was well acquainted with her tendency to play with her meals, so to speak, and he would've been more shocked had she been impatient enough to make this simple.      Wrong woman    , he mused in resignation as he followed her fleeing steps towards the kitchen, only to halt, at her stance.

 "See anything that interests you?" He rasped wryly once he'd recovered from his mouth going dry, walking up behind her cautiously. There wasn't much of technical intrigue in there, only some samples from his last case, but she was looking quite...      Intently    .

 Irene grinned like the Cheshire Cat as she felt his figure come up behind her, though, apparently, refusing to make any direct contact      yet    . She adjusted the focus of the microscope shifting her weight from her right hip to her left as she leaned back slightly, arse pressing against his arousal which left them in a      very    suggestive position as she feigned to act like she needed the leverage to 'see' the slide more properly.

 "AB+.... One of the rarest blood types there is... Hmm, was this the victim's or the perpetrator's, Mr Holmes?" She asked, 'matter-of-factly' as she continued to examine the blood slide, her buttocks flanking his erection and starting to grind on him ever so faintly.

 His jaw slacked as the sensation of her friction against his groin joined the highly intriguing fact she was identifying blood types in his microscope coincided into one large wave of arousal that sent a shudder down his spine. His hands made contact with her hips, fingers flexing with her subtle movement.

 "The uh...victim's," he rumbled distractedly, his right hand moving to trace up the curve of her spine. "The distinction of the blood was what made the perpetrator obvious...small traces under the fingernails..." He continued, pressing himself forward as he bent to brush his lips up the trek which his hand just made.

 Her bare flesh got goose pimples at his touch and then even more so at as she felt his lips echoing his touch along her spine.She took a moment to close her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly as she willed the wetness that was eagerly gathering between her thighs, shifting her weight back to her right foot in a subtly effort to provide some sort of 'scratch' to her growing 'itch.'

 "T-That makes sense...." She stammered slightly, the only other physical indication that she was utterly and totally affected by him, right now. She righted herself, coming to her full height, as petite as that was, to lean her back against his chest momentarily before she bucked her arse backwards to force him back so that she could cross around the table to pluck a banana from a bundle he had apparently bought out of some impulse or need for potassium for some 'experiment.' She leaned against the counter, crossing her ankles as she eyed him lustfully, peeling the banana slowly, deftly, suggestively before finally asking--now under full 'control' once more.

 "So....      Sherlock    , 'impress a girl....' How long did it take you to figure out that last case, hmm?" She 'challenged' lightly, knowing the man got hard and off on nothing more than his own--or her own--intellect mixed with sexual content.

 His eyes narrowed, dark and growing more desperate by the moment, especially once he'd seen her obvious distraction. She was losing focus, in there somewhere.

 "About as quickly as I could gather all the components," he murmured, taking a couple steps towards her. "After I'd seen the blood type, I knew it was a possible red flag, so in theory it was rather immediate. Once the suspects were narrowed down, it became a process of elimination. All I needed was the opportunity to examine them," he explained in a low rhythmic tone, in tune with his steps as he crossed the room.  "In short, the case was closed, more or less, in three days."

 She watched him carefully, tossing the peel aside and before she brought the head of the fruit to her mouth, tongue darting out to circle the tip of it before she bobbed her head down and around the fruit before she bit the head off and started to chew it as she gazed at him darkly.

"Mmm, now that's my kind of man..." She purred playfully, echoing lost words before swallowing finally.

 He watched her little 'show' with wide exasperated eyes, his chest rising and falling in time with his faintly labored breathing. His steps continued towards her, forcing himself to keep a steady pace and not rush up to her. Unnecessary and a clear sign of desperation. When he came toe to toe with her he didn't stop, pressing forward with an arm on either side of her form, essentially trapping her between his chest and the counter.

 He didn't speak, merely angled his head and forcefully captured her lips with his, knowing she'd have a smart retort for anything he'd have to say. He didn't give her the chance.

 She responded by returning the pressure of his lips with her own and tossing the banana aside as her hands came up his chest to cup his face tightly,  thrusting her tongue into his mouth forcefully. He may have the dominant position physically, but she wasn't about to let him have it orally, as well. She growled as her teeth clashed with his, her actions becoming more primitive with each passing second.

 His hands rushed from the counter to her hips, needing some purchase on her anatomy as she had so clearly taken her own. It gave him the ability to press her back into the counter, taking his height to his advantage to try to regain some control. He straightened his back and angled his head down, attempting to match her force at the least, as he now could press down and into her mouth with his tongue. Once he felt he'd thoroughly attempted to make his point, his grip on her hips tightened as he lifted her weight onto the counter, concurrently pulling back only far enough to breathe.

 "Been awhile, Miss Adler?" He rumbled in a breathless taunt, unable to resist drawing attention to her rather telling aggression despite the hypocrisy, as he pressed himself between her dangling legs.

 She allowed him to lift her and assert his 'leadership' in their little foreplay scene,  cracking a sly smile at his remark and it's sanctimoniousness, the distinguishable 'tenting' of his trousers condemning him outright.

 "Apparently so, Mr Holmes. At least '      someone'    in this room isn't ashamed to say he missed me..." She teased him darkly, as she removed her right hand from his cheek to reach behind her subtly to a kitchen knife left out on the counter slowly, gripping it's handle carefully as she held his gaze with a steady, coy one of her own.

 His eyes widened only briefly on instinct, before they narrowed purposefully, eyebrow lifting faintly. He had little to no worry for his life in her presence, truly. His extremities were only a minimal percentage higher.

 "I missed you," he confirmed only a tad wryly, hoping the uncharacteristic, however true, response might just throw her off her game a tad. Which game she was playing, though, remained to be seen.

 She cocked her head slowly, his frank and strangely honest response so easily given automatically making her a bit suspicious, though the sincerity of his look softened her gaze and she 'rewarded' him with small smile before whispering,      "And I missed you, too."  

 She then dragged her index finger down his cheek and lips and down his neck before gripping his shirt tightly and tugging it towards her, thus pulling it away from his body, before she brought the knife from behind her back and quickly, and deftly cut each button from it's thread to reveal his bare chest behind the fabric.

 "You're even more charming       out    of your clothes, dear, care to say that last sentence again...?" She bit her bottom lip and grinned wickedly as she drew the tip of the knife down the centre of his chest, pausing where his trousers began and the beginnings of the auburn hairs of his 'happy trail' began.

 He scowled at her for a moment before his face contorted into a different sort of expression all together, feeling the beginnings of adrenaline threatening his bloodstream as she drug the blade southward. She did have a penchant for knowing his      intrigues    . Though instead of snatching the knife from her, as was his first instinct, or even listening to her request, he just glanced down with purposeful annoyance at his ruined shirt and sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth thoughtfully.

 "I suppose I deserve that from Paris," he snarked lowly, recalling an incident with him rather deliberately ripping what was      apparently     a rather expensive dress.

 She chuckled once before narrowing her eyes at his as she applied a dash of pressure with the knife as she retorted in mock annoyance, "      Quite    . That dress was a bloody McQueen..." She reminded him before bringing the knife down to the bulge in his trousers, dragging the tip along his obvious length titillatingly as she licked her lips.

 "Mmm.... To think, there was once a time when I'd rather have castrated you completely than merely arouse you with my own 'sword....'" She winked in self-amusement before continuing, "Thankfully, however, that attitude towards you really only lasted that      one     night..." She murmured, referencing the night he threw her to the dogs, in the shape of his elder brother, a bit of 'ammunition' she like to employ every once in a while, if only just to then prove his more than evident feelings towards her by always then following it up with the reminder of how he very quickly remedied that little blunder.

 He swallowed, he hoped subtly, and attempted to even his breathing, meeting her eyes in challenge. Oh, he knew exactly what she was insinuating, she did like to rub that in. But he chose the more blunt road for a response.

 "I think we're      both     rather thankful for that, this instant," he drawled, still feeling the tip of a knife exactly where a man      least     wants to feel one. Assuming, of course, he was decidedly 'normal' and wasn't just a tad amused at the obviously empty threat.

 She smirked and glanced down at the knife, circling the outline of his member's head lightly before removing it from the area completely, murmuring a hit of agreement as she did so. She brought it up and wielded it in front of him as she momentarily debated how to proceed with it, if at all before a slightly twisted but, nevertheless,      arousing    idea sparked in her mind.

 Without any explanation or warning, she grabbed his right hand from her hip and held it open before pricking the tip of his pointer finger until a small thread of blood began to ooze out. She then did the same to her right index finger, glancing at him briefly before setting the knife down to bring the accosted hand with her other up to her mouth. She locked eyes with him heavily as she ran her tongue up his digit, lapping up his most human, and 'sacred' bodily fluid into her mouth to 'digest' and mix with her own before sucking on it rather suggestively, her tongue circling the cut before applying pressure to clot the flow of the blood.

 As she did this she brought her own lightly bleeding digit up to his mouth, waiting for him to accept and perform, this 'self-ordained lover's ritual,' from his own free will, raising a single brow as her only attempt to 'challenge' him into it.

 He watched her with a strange sort of nearly-perplexed fascination, before his eyes lulled, turning heavy-lidded with arousal as her tongue stroked over the length of his finger, insinuation more than obvious. Then without rhyme or reason, the unspoken and fairly unspecified significance was returned as he dipped his mouth over her seeping digit. His tongue swirled over the wound itself with deliberate dexterity to counter her own, relishing the coppery taste no matter the oddness of the circumstance. It was an unbridled extension of      her     which made it no more off limits to him than any of her other bodily fluids.

 He sucked the tip of her finger into his mouth fully, before biting down lightly just below where she'd split the skin, as he pulled it from his mouth.

 She let out a moan of utter eroticism as he bit down and sucked the blood from her finger before abandoning it. Her eyes, too, were heavy and full with lust and desire at their little exchange and she stared into his eyes as she echoed his action, dislodging his finger from her mouth, only to glance down at the bit of blood still on it before painting her lips with it and rubbing them together as one would with lipstick.

 "I think I      much     prefer this shade to the one in my purse... Might have to take a bottle back with me...." She husked lowly, swallowing the contents of his digit finally as she continued to gaze at him daringly, her implication both clear and slightly ambiguous.

 His eyes locked to her mouth, lips twitching at her action and the implication that came with it. He drew his finger back from her grasp, the dull sting nearly impossible to distinguish through the rest of the blood gushing through his veins. He perhaps waited a few seconds before his hand gripped the back of her neck harshly and pulled her forward, sucking the taste of his own lifeblood from her lips with a hunger that he wouldn't have fathomed rational. His other hand had shifted itself from her hip to gripping her inner thigh, pressing it further away from its companion so he could press as flush against her as the counter would allow.

 Her hands flew to his chest, running her nails up his bare skin before exploring his pectoral muscles and nipples as she hungrily returned his kiss with just as much force and expression. She moaned into his mouth,- a moan of sheer want and need for      him,     and      only him,     to fill her up once more; to satisfy her once more; to 'make love'--as      sentimental     a phrase it was--once more, before she wrapped her legs around his waist to hug his groin against hers, needing some sort of friction against her throbbing nub, lest she go mad from desire.

 He groaned at the contact, low and rumbling in the back of his throat, bucking his hips against her centre thoughtlessly, at both their detriment. He recovered quickly, letting go of her entirely to pull the tattered remains of his shirt off of his arms, yanking it from his trousers and letting it fall to the floor, all without hardly breaking from her mouth. He ripped open his belt in a frenzy, and unzipped his trousers for the sake of relief from how tight they'd become, but otherwise left them in place, instead turning his attention back to her.

 His left hand wrapped around her waist, urging her to the very edge of the counter while his right was urging up her inner thigh. He didn't waste much of his or her time, immediately pressing a thumb to her clit just to hear her sharp intake of breath at the sudden contact after leaving it wanting.

 "Ahhhhh..." She exhaled upon inhaling pointedly, nipping his bottom lip in automatic response to his assault. She pulled back and stared up at him, her right hand ghost in down his chest before gripping his length over his pants and squeezing faintly, as she purred, "You know, Sherlock, we've never 'christened' your flat... Let alone your      bed...    Well,      I    have...but your cock is      much     preferable to my hand...." She winked at her 'confession,' before biting her bottom lip seductively.

 The moment her statement clicked was most assuredly visible on his face, much less the faint growl that she could probably feel reverberating through his chest. He tilted his hips into her grip, even as his two fingers began to tease her rather soaked entrance, pressing on either side but not moving towards it.

 "You're a very bad woman," he remarked      almost     casually, as though it were a fact he were recalling as opposed to a direct accusation. His thumb began to shift back and forth. "But you are quite correct..."

 She gyrated her hips in a desperate attempt to manipulate his touch. She whimpered softly, an action she was slowly, and secretly, growing more accustomed to enjoying as her hand around him tugged his cock in silent retribution.

 "And      you    are a very bad man." She hissed. "Besides, dear, we      both     know that image, and fact, is making you even harder as we speak... Why else do you think I insisted on showering before we 'chatted' about the mobile...?" She pressed.

 He didn't give her the satisfaction of a direct response, confirming the obvious, though the pained desire was probably clear on his face. Instead he merely plunged both of his teasing fingers inside of her suddenly, successfully dropping the focus from his arousal and nailing it clearly on her own. He crooked them knowingly, raising his brows.

 "An excuse to steal my clothing?" He teased in a strained murmur, his other hand making its way north, brushing over her breast and across her collarbone to grip the side of her neck.

 She groaned in appreciation her kegel muscles flexing around his fingers as added testimony to her 'thanks.'

 "That, too." She rebutted finally, her hand dipping under the waistband of his pants to grip his cock directly, thumb padding over his tip before she reached further south and massaged his testicals, something she had discovered to be      very    effective with him. Apparently, his hair follicles weren't the only unusually, overly-sensitive nerves in his body, even as far as the male reproductive system went.

 "If I wanted fingers, Mr Holmes, I'd just do it myself,      again    ." She half-teased/half-jested clippedly.

 His lips parted in a low moan at her new focus, arching up on his toes almost without thought to encourage her actions. He refocused on her quickly though, despite his laboured breathing, bringing his fingers out before delving them back in deeper than he knew she was capable of, just for spite, satisfying his own selfish wants more than anything. Slowly pulling them out in earnest, his thumb nail grazing her clit in parting.

 He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking her flavour from them, his eyes locking on hers in preemptive warning. Savoring her response for only a moment, as he let the digits slide from his mouth, his hand quickly latched onto the slender wrist that was still on the inside of his pants, yanking it free to give him the freedom to crouch in front of her, hands moving to stroke up her thighs.

 A shudder swept down the back of her spine as she watched him taste her juices, pupils dilating even further at the arousing, not to mention       flattering    , sight.

 Her breath caught in her throat, however, as she watched him kneel in front of her, her mind suddenly realising what it was exactly he was planning on doing. He hadn't done that since the time before last--Paris being far more frenzied and rushed.

 "Eating      out    , then are we?" She couldn't help but joke, though her voice was shaky and more than a little unsteady, as she brought her hands to curl in his locks lightly.

 His lips were brushing her inner thigh tauntingly as he murmured in response, "You are in my kitchen," biting into the flesh briefly before his arm curled around her hip, angling her pelvis towards the edge of the counter so it was as exposed as could be without her falling, giving her one long swipe of his tongue from her entrance up to her nub. He repeated the action, darting inside of her briefly along the way.

 "It would be wrong not to partake," he rumbled against her before his lips latched onto her clit, sucking it into his mouth as his tongue dashed against it.

 She let out a series of successive moans and gasps, her back arching as she jutted her hips forward at each lap and suckle of his tongue and mouth. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she exhaled slowly, trying to gather herself before responding jaggedly, "Well, who am I to argue with      that     logic...." She gasped again and let out a soft whimper.

 "Fuck, you are skilled at that....      Almost    as good as I am...." She couldn't help but compliment him, despite knowing how even more it would inflate his bloody ego, the successive years of holding his 'V-Card' only making his sudden      gift    for the act all the more impressive      and     annoying.

 Hearing her make those bloody infuriatingly      distracting     noises was doing nothing for his ability to ignore his own arousal, and his hands tightened on her thighs in response. He growled as he fucked her with his tongue rather greedily, his amusement that she was actually going out of her way to      praise     his ability almost drowned in his focus.      Almost.  

 "I'd      love     to know how you'd be able to compare," he pulled back enough to quirk a brow tauntingly at her lack of logic, his lips twitching up into a brief smirk as he nipped at her once more before he stood to his feet between her legs, eyes just smug enough to be noticeable, which was less than his norm at times, already tugging his trousers from his hips.

 She quirked a pointed brow at him as her eyes narrowed, a single hand reaching up to grab his chin violently as she replied with mild acidity, "Don't even      think    about suggesting having a threesome, Sherlock. I      don't     share well.... Besides, I'd hate to show you up..." She winked teasingly before pushing his chin back to help him get his damned trousers off.

 "Now for fuck's sake,      dear    , will you      PLEASE    fuck me?" She half hissed/half begged.

 "Would scarce know with who," he drawled rather tellingly, he realized a bit too late, as he stepped out of the pants and trousers now pooled at his feet. He had yet to find another woman who could inspire in him what she could. If it was worth anything, his little faux-relationship with Janine just exemplified      that     in his mind. He couldn't even fathom taking anyone else but her into his bed, just as before her he couldn't fathom hardly anyone at all. But he dismissed that rather      sentimental     thought process as soon as his bare flesh met hers. He let out a brief groan as his cock pressed between her legs, no longer impeded by his clothing.

 "Though it occurs to me you may just be begging," he roughly mused, despite the fact his left hand had grasped her hip hard enough to bruise, and his right was already grasping his cock in hand, quite ready to do her bidding.

 She grunted at his first statement, as she wrapped her hands around his neck in preparation to mount him, nails digging into it's nape in silent response.

 She raised her eyes at his latter comment, however, before narrowing them significantly as she dug her heels into the top of his arse to jut him forward, thus successfully forcing their loins to 'greet' each other 'palm to palm.'

 "I could argue the same case about your physicality, Mr Holmes. Would you like me to? Or would you rather we concede and admit we      both    are begging for it and get closer to the part where I      sheath    that      throbbing     cock of yours..." She quirked a brow, and making sure the stress the two, more, graphic words to 'influence' his answer.

 "Touché," he rumbled unevenly, jaw flexing at the intimate contact. He managed to fight her legs' grasp long enough to pull back and grip his cock once again, his hand on her hip shifting back and under her arse for angle and leverage as his tip finally pressed to her entrance.

 "Though you've got to admire the irony," he quipped, intent on getting the last word, just as his hips bucked forward and he began to quickly press into the familiar heat of her, exhaling in a hiss at his perhaps faulty decision to nearly ‘sheath’ himself in one go. Patience was never his virtue.

 She was about to roll her eyes and let out a reluctant chuckle when his sudden, and      full    , thrust into her caught her slightly off guard, causing her eyes to widen and a sharp gasp to issue from the back of her throat.

 She winced as he filled her, his girth always a tad painful on the first few thrusts. She grunted and and pulled back to glance down at him in mock disapproval before murmuring, "....Perhaps the only--      ow    --good thing about our yearly rendezvous is that--      ahh    --every time manages to feel like the... first....." She muttered as she wrapped her legs around his waist and regripped before hoisting her chest up and against his, putting all her weight on his form now.

 Sherlock had nearly put himself into shock--nearly--but was regaining the ability to function as quickly as he was able. He took a shuddering breath, getting re-accustomed to the tight heat encompassing him, as she was apt to point out, he nearly always had to do. Pro or con to their unique status, he was never sure.

 "Apologies," he murmured as his head ducked and rested into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin before he began kissing and nipping at the skin by way of distracting her from the apparent discomfort.

 She arched her neck to allow him greater access, hands pushing down on his shoulders to hoist herself up a bit so that she could slam down again, knowing that once she was fully slicked up and the ball was rolling, so to say, the slight discomfort quickly gave way to pleasure.

 She moaned at his kisses and even found herself smiling privately at his 'apology,' an abundance of subconscious sentiment clearly at the root of it. She lifted his head up to look him in the eye as she replied with amused seriousness, "No need to do so, dear. Your ability to be,      irritatingly    , above average in all the necessary areas of life is just one of the many reasons why I      hate    you." She reminded him between heavy breaths.

 '      Hate    ,' of course, standing in for the word she really meant. The word that she knew he knew she meant. They had come to confess their feelings in this twistedly ironic way a few meetings back, as they were parting ways. Each adopting that preferred word to it's sister that the rest of the mundane world seemed so obsessed with employing. Besides, this way, they each, technically, had an out. Could always deny--'on paper,' at least. The look in her eye, however, and the sincerity of her voice, would damn her for all eternity, however.

 Funny thing was, though, when it came to '      The     Man,' she didn't actually give a damn about that old pride.

 He caught onto her obvious intent as quickly as he caught her weight, her quick will to begin in combination to her clear sentiment almost catching him off guard. But as opposed to playing the deer in the headlights, his lips twitched into a dazed if present smirk and he pressed her weight against the counter again for leverage as he urged her up and the thrust back upward to meet her as she dropped.

 "And I very much..." He thrust upward once again, quirking a brow. "...      Despise     you," he replied darkly, keeping a lightness to the statement as best he could manage, lest the sentimentality they were so seeking to avoid, decide to kick in.

 Her lips merely twitched at his reply before his thrust overcame her and she let out a rather vocal cry of a moan, her fingernails scraping up his back as she rode a rather sudden wave of mounting pleasure and warmth that was making its way from her core to her outer extremities.

 She glared down at him in utter infatuation and (self-) annoyance before barking out a shaky, "B-bedroom. Now. N-need.       More    ..."

 He didn't need any further encouragement, lifting her up with his arms under her arse and angling his weight, he stalked the short distance to the hall and kicked open his door with no hesitation, even at the worrisome creak. He'd fix it      later    .

 He hiked a knee onto the bed before dropping her weight onto it, barely retracting from her before he was on her again, arms on the mattress on either side of her head plunging back into her with an appreciative curse. The angle was much more satisfactory.

 Irene spread her legs as widely as she could as soon as her back hit the bed, greeting his first thrusts in this new position and place with as much reception as she could give him. Her hands flew out and tangled in the duvet cover, knuckles whitening as she let out a series of whines and 'oh’s’ without immediate presence of thought.

 "How...thin...are...the...walls?" She gasped in ecstasy, as she brought her right leg up to hook around his neck to provide him with even more room for depth, and also silently informing him of her compliance to don the 'submissive' role--      for now    .

 "Thick," he rumbled breathlessly, using her acquiescence to his advantage as he plunged further with an appreciative groan, ducking his head as he rocked forward, banging the headboard against the wall.

 "But...perhaps not thick enough," he husked with a certain amount of amusement in his eyes, arching onto his knees to thrust forward with a curve of his hips, deliberately trying to wring another moan from her for emphasis.

 She could tell what he wanted and was trying to get out of her, to which she more than happily gave him, and then some, crying out in an almost uncharacteristically 'sex kitten' fashion, "      Ohh, Mr Holmes....!"    followed by a few grunts and panting breaths as she wriggled beneath him. Her other leg coming up to throw over his shoulder as her head turned frantically to the side to bit into the pillow, a desperate attempt on her part to stifle her cries and whimpers of pleasures lest he be      too    pleased with himself.

 For, to be sure, despite the rather, 'porn-star-esque' response she was currently giving him--and one she hadn't much used with him, if ever, before--Irene Adler was      no    faker, at least, when it came to her personal, love life. Her response was utterly--even if embarrassingly so to her--organic. She only hoped the base, male, primitive mindset that he clearly had a little bit of would respond to these novel and 'conventional' reactions--if only      because     they were novel      for her    .

 She also was bound and determined to seek revenge in a few moments. No man would make her whimper like that and finish on top. Not even      Sherlock Holmes    , she mused decidedly.

 Her response merely spurred him on, for even under duress he could at the least read her for genuineness and she was fighting it now with a will, feeling another shock of pleasure strike him as he watched her reckless abandon. His focus staggered briefly, but he growled his way through a moan and thrust forward more quickly, feeling himself seek out those sounds now that she'd granted them. He leaned more upright, gripping her leg where it draped over his shoulder and nipping and licking up the expanse of it he could reach.

 "      Mmm... Sherlock....!"    She whined at his nips, the toes of her accosted leg curling in his hair as she arched her back up, to meet his thrusts.

 She allowed him a few more self-gratifying thrusts to which she returned with girlish moans and whimpers before, suddenly, bringing her right foot from his shoulder and halting his movement by planting her foot squarely in the centre of his chest. She sat up, placing her weight on her elbows as she glared at him evenly before pushing him back with a grunt and and moving to her knees to face him dead on.

 A hint of a smiled played on her lips as she raised her right brow slowly, running a hand up his chest before tangling it in his curls to yank his head backwards and up violently. She pressed her form against his and leaned up to hiss into his ear, "My turn, darling..." only to hook her leg around his as she twisted and pushed his figure back and down onto the bed, crawling on top of him to pin him against the bed in an act of dominance and possession.

 "Can't let you 'boys' have all the fun," she purred into his ear before sitting back slightly to run her slit along his length and tease his pulsating tip with her inviting warmth wickedly.

 He growled out a groan of surprise and aroused fury, even though he      knew     she was likely to play her card eventually. She had an annoying habit of lulling him into false security before striking. Infuriating woman. But she did stay true to her point and skillset he couldn't help but notice. She knew exactly what he 'liked' -- a challenge.

  She was sending sparks through his nervous system with his teasing, causing his hips to buck and his leg muscles to twitch. His hands flew to her hips, digging in hard in an attempt to end her torment, but all he succeeded in was increasing her friction, and he scowled helplessly. He could overpower her, but the fight was seldom worth it, or so he assured himself.

 Irene chuckled darkly, leering down at him lasciviously as she shifted her weight to her knees to lift her pelvis up and off of him completely, proving that      no contact    was even worse than then the ghostings of it.

 She then ran her hands up her thighs and hips, ripping his own off to grope herself, alone and unaided, toying with his clearly, 'regular,' male porn preference, as she employed the 'usual actions'--hands gliding up her waist to circle the sides of her breasts and swirl around her taut nipples, teasing herself and him by avoiding them for a bit.

 She pouted down at him, biting her bottom lip sensual before husking softly, "Oh,      Mr Holmes    , did you really think I was going to indulge your base, male fantasy for the      entire    time?" She circled her areolas before pinching and twisting her nipples suddenly letting out a whiney moan as she looked down at him in erotic amusement.

 "Don't get me wrong,      Sherlock    , I'll be your little slut, porn-star girl any day of the week...any way you want me...any fantasy you wish to play out...I'll even be your slave, if you fancy...      But,     just keep in mind, dear...." She began to warn gently, leaning down over him slowly as she slipped a hand between them to grip his length tightly, before continuing, "...Every time you make me      whimper     and      moan     and      whine     and      beg     like a little girl who      needs     more--which you do      quite     well, much to my chagrin, grant you--" She grumbled lightly, licking her lips as she winked, before finishing with, "...I'll make you do the same--      twice over    ." She hissed against his lobe, slamming herself down and around him as deeply as the angle would allow on her last words.

 He threw his head back with something not dissimilar from a roar, his hands clawing at her waist and his teeth clenching as he fought the throbbing ache shooting down his spine at the sudden move. Fighting to catch his breath, he finally gripped her hips again tightly and bucked up, in an attempt to counter her, but it hardly stood up to the challenge.

 "Lucky for me...have no need of slavery," he managed in a ragged, breathless rumble, having nothing to fear of that retribution at least. Who would ever want to tame this glorious, albeit      evil,     creature he couldn't say, but it would strain credulity to attempt.

 She grunted in approval of his statement as she leaned down to capture his lips with her own, nipping and biting them with a ferocity of a lioness in heat as she lifted and slammed her pelvic floor down against his, grinding it in place as she squeezed her walls around him with each go before abandoning his mouth to lean her weight back onto her centre--fully upright as he was sheathed at a full, and deep, ninety degree angle.

 She let out a subtle moan as she gyrated her hips in a circular motion, hitting each cardinal direction of her walls as she dragged her nails down his chest.

 "Mmm.... You remind me of my first horse, Mr Holmes. I was quite the equestrian. Dear me did he have a foul temper and was about as haughty as spoiled prince. But he was magnificent and quite the beast. 16.1 hands...about as tall as you.... However....I think I much prefer this mount..." She teased in self-amusement, as she began bob up and down on him in this new position.

 He found his body was following her lead of its own accord, bracing into her movements with a counter-rhythm no matter his inner rebellion.  He was fighting to keep his focus as she see seemed more than determined to rip it from him, and his eyes narrowed at her in challenge.

 "I suppose that's...a compliment," he ground out with obvious force, his hands starting to roam upward for distraction -- both hers and his own -- and cupped her breasts roughly, squeezing and trapping the bud of her nipples between his fingers.

 She exhaled a soft hissing sound as he groped her breasts, leaning into his pinches as she steadied her weight forward again, her hands splayed on his pectoral muscles as she began lifted and dropped herself around him faster and harder, beginning to feel herself lose control as the wave of climax climbed higher and higher, threatening to crash her on his shores any second.

 "      Fuck    ...I'm so close....Come with me, Sherlock..." She whimpered softly, her dominatrix persona forgotten in this sudden, heightened state of ecstasy with him.

 He growled in wordless agreement, unsure his tongue was even capable of forming them at the moment. She had a unique talent for driving him speechless that no one else had managed to possess, no more exemplified than at this very moment. He bridged his hips into her last few thrusts for the sake of it, giving her more stimulation for entirely selfish reasons, he was afraid. It drove him to bursting just as he felt her tightening around him.

 His groan was guttural and throat ripping and his lower abdomen clenched nearly to the point of pain as he finally let the wire snap, hands flying back to her hips, digging in and holding her tightly in earnest. He found himself leaning upward beneath her, as though the force of it pulled him from the pillows.

 Irene let out a guttural cry of sheer euphoria bliss as she felt him buck and come within her, her walls clenching around violently and successively, as if squeezing every last drop of      him     from his load was some unconscious goal of her womb.

 She threw her head back as another wave suddenly arrested her once more, a sharp whimper of appreciation escaping her throat before it was replaced by her weighty pants. She fell forward against him as she fought to catch her laboured breaths slowly.

 She wrapped her arms around his neck, barely able to feel her hands so overcome with pins and needles were they, before resting her forehead against his finally.

 She listened to their heaving inhales and exhales, their breathing power somehow syncing along with the beating of their hearts. She was tempted to roll her eyes and make some ‘disgusted comment,’ but decided to endorse the moment, for who knew when they’d be so joined again. With Jim back, the danger was ineffable once more.  

 His body slowly relaxed, and his eyes fluttered closed, feeling heavy and numb as he sank into the pillows once more, but her weight against him still felt heated and tingling. He found himself running his hands up the curves of her back subconsciously as their panting breaths mingled, her warmth bringing the feeling back into him. There were very few times Sherlock was ever relaxed, outside of the force of severe exhaustion, but she always managed it, even if briefly.

 "Do we always follow near-death experiences with nearly killing each other," he managed to quietly joke in a deep, if strained murmur, lips twitching faintly.

 She let out a half laugh, pulling back gently to ask out of want of clarification, “Firstly, I’d hardly call sex ‘killing each other,’ dear, quite the opposite, if I do say so myself. However, I will grant you that our means to the end differ significantly from the average pedestrian. But, we are not ‘the commonwealth,’ are we?” She winked before leaning down to nibble his lip playfully.

 “But I will grant you, the near-death thing seems to be, an annoying and unfortunate, set-up….” She sighed almost wearily, a soft sadness ending her tone before she added gingerly, “Perhaps, one day, it won’t be the necessary ‘aphrodisiac….’” She murmured wistfully, her index finger circling an obtuse pattern on his chest, not wanting him to remove himself from her just yet.

 He hummed slightly in appreciation at her touch, as well as in thought, his hand still tracing up her spine, in odd swirls and angles.

 "Seems 'motivation' is more appropriate. We hardly need aphrodisiacs..." He murmured in correction, with a faint hint of a smirk, though it was also a tad melancholy. "It typically takes one of us nearly being shot or decapitated to drive us across whichever continent divides us," he added in consideration. "And there is that pesky 'death' status we keep falling into."

 She leaned forward resting her elbows on his chest as she gently, and slowly allowed him to slip out of her before settling back down above his nether regions, resting her chin on his sternum as she replied drolly, “I meant it as metaphor, you cad….Believe you me, I’m      more than    aware at our ability to make any and every word, look, situation, and context highly…..      adult    .”

 She leaned pressed a kiss to his skin before glancing up at him once more to add, “...Mmm, I suppose      one    of us being alive on paper again might actually make things easier in the future… The double ghost was getting a bit absurd… Let’s not recall the horrendous blonde, bob cut wig I had to don just to get into the bloody Ritz in Paris…” She shuddered in hyperbolised repugnance.  

 "Not the most flattering," he winced playfully, making a rumble of disapproval in his throat. "Though that idiotic suit wasn't my finest hour," he added honestly and for fairness, rolling his eyes faintly. His hand settled on the small of her back, in a nearly casual manner.

 "Though, yes. At least one of us being legally present is quite helpful..." He stated in agreement, lips turning up at the thought. "At least we're not both scattering about the map."

 She laughed softly, “Yes, double breasted suits should be left in the 80s never to be seen or heard from again. And do try to stay alive, this time round, all right? For my       ‘appetite's’     sake, if nothing more.” She grinned, leaning up nip his nose playfully before rolling over on her back and stretching as she yawned faintly.

 “Mmm, I did miss your bed… Besides the one in my flat in Belgravia, I think yours is the most comfortable and      arousing     bed I’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping in, shame you don’t indulge in the act.” She couldn’t help but jibe him coyly, nipping his shoulder just for the sheer thrill of it. She was feeling very frisky and, well, Christ,      happy    .

 He quirked a brow, but didn't question her excitement, quite frankly feeling a similarity. He gave her a teasing bit of a shrug, turning over on his side to loom over her slightly in an oddly quick motion in terms of his relaxed state.

 "Clearly you've remedied      that,    on a few different levels," he husked near her ear rather obtusely.

 Irene shivered softly as his breath hit her ear, sending goose pimples down her back. She leaned into him, frontside pressing against his as she toyed with his light chest hairs before murmuring in feigned innocence, "Oh please, I only drugged you the      one    time, and I'm sure you needed the rest... And it's not my fault the only time you are able to sleep on your own natural, biological accord is upon having mind-blowing orgasms at 'my hand...'" She winked as she glanced up at him quickly, hoping to see some amusement cross his face. She did love being one of the      few     people that could make him laugh and indulge his, albeit narrow, sense of humour--that wasn't vile or at anyone else's expense--except, perhaps, his own. Which, in itself, was a feet of Everest proportions with      his    egotistical personality.

 He chuckled briefly at her rather true-ish statement, rolling his eyes fondly. "Sleep is an elusive bitch at times, yes. Outside of drugs and injury, I typically need something to tire my mind and that's a rare accomplishment...relaxing it's even rarer." It was meant, however oddly, as a compliment, his fingers tapping out a rather subconsciously complex pattern on the skin of her side.

 She chuckled softly, burrowing her face into his chest as she took a deep inhale, indulging in the natural scent of him and those divine pheromones that he gave off.

 “Mmm, thank you, dear, I’m flattered, once again..” She murmured into his chest softly.  

 "Don't be," he murmured in a playful mockery of irritation, half-arsed at that, harkening back to his first response to his so-called flattery. It always sounded like foolish denial, and he played on it now, even as he let out a quiet rumble of appreciation at her moving closer, throwing his arm around her thoughtlessly. He indulged the sensation for a moment before shifting back a tad.

 "I'll be right back," he said simply into her ear, brushing his lips against it faintly, figuring his destination would be rather obvious as he reluctantly pulled himself from the sheets to stand to his feet, and pad towards the door.

 She hummed in appreciation at his sentimental ‘loo-parting,’ at one point utterly unfeasible that he would ever adopt such ‘sweetheart’ acts of behaviour with her. Like with most other things, however, he always managed to surprise her with his uncanny ability to evolve, even if it was to his minor ‘self-stated’ chagrin.

 She rolled over on her stomach as he left, tilting her head to the left to appreciate the view his exit so gratuitously gave her.  

 Once he was gone, however, she let out a melancholy sigh, glancing at the digital clock which glared at her the early morning time disdainfully. It was odd, the way she suddenly felt unwanted, or that she was out of place, at his, now that their coupling had finished. Although, to be fair, they never had only ‘dined’ one time--it usually at least hit the four or five mark, if not higher. Yet, out of some deep-rooted fear or anxiety she had the distinct feeling that to spend the night with him      here    , in 221b Baker Street, was somehow indicative of some ‘serious step’ in their ‘relationship’--whatever terms, labels, titles, and regulations that that term held with regards to them. Spending the night in all of their previous rendezvous was more than assumed, as they had always spent the night in some hotel or secretive meeting place. But now that they were back on English soil, and especially, his, personal soil she was not about to risk heartache at assuming, and assuming wrong, tonight.

 That being the case she, reluctantly, sat up, stretched and made her way down the hallway to the bag she had left on the couch, grabbing a pair of black jeans, leather ankle boots, and a black cashmere V-neck top, along with her lace undergarments, before padding back to his room to begin to change and figure out her next ‘moves.’

 He made his way back to the room fairly quickly, out of instinctive anxiety, and it seemed once again he wasn't wrong. He would've liked to have been, for once. He stood silently for a moment, watching her back as she moved to fasten her bra, and only then did he quietly stalk up behind her. His hand over taking hers and unclasping it beneath her fingers once again, he pressed her shoulder to turn her around to face him, urging her to let him remove the lace from her arms.

 "Get back into my bed," he said simply as a vaguely sardonic command, his very typical 'Sherlock Holmes' attitude returning, if briefly, with a challenging tilt of his head. "If for no other purpose, I have every intention of picking your brain in the morning."

 She locked eyes with him, a silent exchange flashing between then before a small, relieved smile tugged at her lips and she glanced down, blushing ever so lightly at her silly ‘female’ train of thought. He was a far better man than that, and they had come too far together now to still be      playing the game    , at least, the high-stakes emotional one--that was all settled now, more or less, apparently. The sexual, mental one--well, that was      always     in play, to be sure.

 “Clever boy. You passed ‘The Test…’” She teased him lightly, more teasing      herself    , however, in vocally acknowledging her corrected, unnecessary actions.

 Once her bra was off and safely on the floor, where it belonged, she wrapped her arms around his neck, a sultry haze beginning to cloud over her eyes, before grinding her pelvis against his as she challenged darkly, “Now then, Mr Holmes, how about breaking our previous record…?”  

 His lips turned up into a wicked, knowing sort of smile. She was of course calling her own bluff, and he was more than happy to let her, one of his hands easily bracing the back of her skull as he practically lifted her off of her feet into a seething kiss, partially even out of gratitude for her continued presence. One wouldn't think they'd been perfectly satisfied not too many minutes before, but that was, he supposed the nature of suppressing oneself to an annual coupling...or, a few.  Especially with them, it seemed.

 He had to wonder when exactly they'd managed to be considered oddly      monogamous,    at least on her end. It had never been an issue in his mind, but when she began bluntly insinuating she'd been bottling for his sake, he had always wondered. He'd never had the nerve to ask, or perhaps he just would rather not have known. But he was obscurely thankful for it regardless. He didn't have to look too far past her unbridled appetite to see the proof, or they'd never have managed to christen the rest of his flat, and manage to sleep in between, over the next 14 hours.

[akvtsuki-ari]

Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, dom!spence (not rlly but hes the one in more control)

Length: 3.2k 

Authors Note: idk why but early 2000′s emo music screams spence to me and I wrote this from 2am-6am listening to this song, give it a listen while you read if you like. and yes the title is a p!atd song. 

"Fuck,"

Heat, throbbing heat, with scorching skin to skin contact

Desperation was apparent, with only your waist exposed, his finger tips drawing circles into your back, nails dragging on skin with a rushed sense of excitement.

‘Mf, aggressive much?" You groan out, Reid's smiles into your neck, his hands pinning yours above your head

"Long day," he replies, teeth grazing the skin of your neck, he lets his tongue run over the skin to smooth it out before sucking soft hickies into it, marks made in small doses all across it, a reminder. his tongue is warm and inviting, but his bite is vulgar.

his other hand is firm on your waist, but he won't let you touch him, he's focused on on you, all his energy making you drown in lust. the sensation of his skin on yours sends your nerves into overdrive, oh how easy it is to break you.

"Wanna touch you," you moan. No hesitation is present in his voice.

"Why should I let you," he challenges you, leaving you at a loss for words. He sinks his mouth onto a sensitive area of your neck and you whine eagerly, he drops your hands.

Your touch is unsure, running fingers through his hair, you tug making him look at you.

He kisses you, and the wait to deepen is long, achingly. Purposeful. Your face is flushed with embarrassment, his every move decisive and teasing, his lips are smooth, warm. They feel so full, and his kiss makes you feel so lost, so light. His tongue runs against your bottom lip, inciting you to kiss back , but he pulls away before you can.

"You know Y/N," he starts, you whimper in protest and he smiles again.

"All day I've been thinking about the way you'd look bent over the desk in Hotchs office," he adds, kissing your neck asfrwe he does. You melt into his touch, eager to let him finish.

"Would you close the blinds, Y/N," he speaks as he trails down your neck

"Or, does the thought of our co-workers watching you get you off?," he asks, unbuttoning your blouse, he makes eye contact, face to face.

"You don't take me as much of an exhibitionist, Y/N," he adds, saying your name with emphasis,

"But I think," a soft sound of a clasp opening fills the room, "there's a part of you that likes the idea of being seen," his hand cups your breast, his thumb running over your nipples making you let out a soft ah

"Or at the very least," a flick, and a whimper, his other hand lays at the base of your neck "at the very least, you like the idea of being, well - a nymph of sorts," his hand runs up to side of your face, a thumb placed on your lips.

"Y/N, appease me," he pushes his thumb into your mouth and you suck instinctively, exactly what he was looking for

"You like this being a dirty secret to some extent sure," the hand on your breast slips to your skirt, tugging its waist band. You arch your back to take it off "But you can't help but want to tell someone," his hands quick to feel you, your throb under his fingertips "you can't help but wanna tell someone, just how good I make you feel,"  soft circles into your clit make you cry out in

He takes his other hand from your neck, placing the fingers covered in arousal to touch your lips instead, pushing them into your mouth. his elbow rests on your chest as he backs you up. His other hand is at your waist again

"So Y/N," he begins, the hand on your waist tugs on your panties, you slip them off, but he stops you from taking them off all the way. Slowly he spreads you apart, the rush of air fluttering you. Delicately his fingers smooth against your clit, crouching to be at level to eat you our, he looks up

"I guess my question to you would have to be," he kisses your inner thigh, marking them. you run your fingers through his hair, opening your legs allowing him access. His tongue lays on your clit before he laps at it, soft flat motions, at first slow. His hands hold your thighs back, palms digging into your hips. Circling his tongue around before sucking you into his mouth again, he pulls off

"How good do I make you feel Y/N," he slips two fingers into you, allowing you to adjust before he moves. He pushes up against your g-spot. he doesn't move too fast yet, still eating you out. you're falling apart, moaning and whining.

"Good enough to ruin your reputation?," he asks, picking up pace as he finger fucks you. his speed on your clit picks up to, tongue stroking your clit with a speed you're unadjusted to. you can't take much more, and you cum again surprised at how long you've lasted. he licks you clean, before he stands back up to kiss you, your breath heaving. And ragged, he places his lips on yours and you taste yourself on him.

Dropping to your knees you unbuckle his pants, his cock is watm your palm. He doesn't falter even though you know he wants to. You take him in your mouth, sucking on the tip of it before picking up pace. He didn't wanna do the work just yet

"Not to be cocky Y/N," you feel his cock throb in his mouth as he tangles his fingers in your hair "But being inside you is the privilege only I have,"

He starts moving on his own, hitting the back of your throat with little to no thought at all, tears form in your eyes

"I'm the only one who gets to watch you fall apart," there's a sense of apathy in his tone, as precum fills your throat. He pulls you off, and you stand again, as he turns you to the wall,

"And to be honest with you Y/N," he whispers in your ear, his breath is warm under your skin as all the nerves in your body shiver.

"The thing that gets me off the most, is as simple as watching you do it," he positions himself and fills you slow. You moan loud. The second he moves you'll break, your mind will be clouded with nothing but pure and unadulterated lust.

"You know what really fucking gets me off Y/N," he hisses. He pulls back out and slams into you again, snapping his hips against yours in a quick movement. You could collapse from the pressure, as he empties you and fills you all in the same second. The feeling leaves you speechless, without a though in your head

"It," in "really," out "gets me off" in "to fuck you," out "till you" in "can't think" out "straight.

He pounds into you, holding your hands behind your back, slowing down to place his fingers on your clit and pick back up. You cum quickly again, ruined completely. Spencer doesn't rest, his  bringing you to brink again in only a few minutes. You've lost count.

Finally, with what feels like mercy, he cums in you, groaning a string of curses before pulling out.

You turn to him resting your back on the wall and smile widely, kissing him softly. He smiles into if. He nuzzles into your neck and sighs

"Did you have fun?," he asks. You can't help but laugh,"

"I came 3 times so I'm gonna go with yes," you say. He pouts

"You could go farther," he mumbles. You smack him playfully.

"Save it till we're back home and off this case and your can go at it baby," you reply. He grins and kisses you again.

"Yes! Thank you," he replies, you shake your head kissing him

"You're ridiculous, now move so I can clean up."

-

The next day the two of you walk back into the local pd office, neither of you out of ordinary. Spencer buys you coffee and greets you with a hug when you finally come in. But the whole team seems to be acting strange

"Is it just me or is everyone being really weird today?," you ask in the office, as the team gets quiet. You look at Hotch who has a blank expression, as does JJ and Rossi. Prentiss looks away entirely as Derek laughs.

"Care to inform us?." You asks. Not a word,

"Cmon guys," Spencer adds. You nod.

"Oh nothing pretty boy, you've just for quite the mouth on you," Derek remarks. The whole team seems to hold back laughter as he walks off.

"What's that supposed to mean?," Spencer asks. You have unfortunately caught on, you immediately blush beet red and put your face in your hands.

Well," Rossi starts "Did you um, have fun Y/N," he asks. The whole team holds back a laugh again.

Now it was Spencer's turn to realize. Immediately he his face in whatever he could find.

"Oh no," he whines. Hotch chuckles.

"Me and JJ are gonna go check out the M.E.s office, Rossi and Prentiss go check out the new crime scene. I need you two to check out the files on the latest victim, but please, behave.," he adds. Rossi laughs as does JJ as everyone heads off.

The two of you glance at eachother before blushing and laughing.

"I'm so embarrassed I'm at a loss for what to say," you remark. Spencer laughs

"Agreed, lets just focus on the case," he says. You nod vigorously.

"Good plan," you agree.

The plane ride home is gonna be a mess. 

--

taglist ; @cynbx @jhope-jkill

[drinking-coke-in-hell]

7. Syyskuuta. 2019 (2/3)

“There’s mich to catch on. Would you like to tell me.” Till said to Alex, holding out his hand to be grapped on. Nea wondered if it is the same thing that Alex did to her in the classroom yesterday.

“I don’t think it’s tolerant to do this here.” Alex answered. Till gave him a hard look.

“Last time i did this to Nea the convulsion was pretty hard. I haven’t really been active on my powers.” Alex told. “She is a regular human so no wonder. I can also go in and read.”

“No way. Okay. No hiding, everything out.” Alex said and took Till’s hand. Nobody paid attention to them. It was casual to close friends to vaihtaa kuulumiset this way if they hadn’t seen in long time. Nea waoted for the same show that happened in class. This time only eyes went black and veins were slighty seen black. Again it was over in matter of seconds.

“What the hell…” Till breathed out. He had worried, almost scared expression on his face.

“Wow. You’ve had a nice few years.” Alex smiled, it seemed fake but she said that in true means.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” Till asked.

“Don’t wanna talk about physically nor by mind so yeah. Mind getting me a drink?” Alex answered brushing it off. Till shrugged and went to get himself a shotnand Alex some lemonade.

“Mitäs vittua?” Nea hämmästeli. “Onks tää joku julkimo meet and greet.”

“Ei. Mähä selitin sulle eilen sen*. Mä ja Till ollaan tunnettu vuosia iha privaatissaki ja Codynki.” Allu selitti.

*Mitä julkkiksista sanottiin introssa

Till came back with the drink and handed it to Alex who thanked in Deutsch.

“Waait.. Are you and Till like you know…” Cody tried to hold back a laugh with a smile, “Or like have been. I mean like no shame I can totally see you two being that because you both are so damn wicked but like holy shit that size differense.” Cody rambled but quit smiling as Alex looked at him with black eyes.

“Just that.. Krhm…” Cody viittasi siihen kuinka Tillin (omg tilli) kösi oli Allun lantiolla.

“Oh well yeah there has been few encaunters with me and Alex by those me-”

“None of any of yours business okay.” Alex was getting red herself and punched half play fully Till’s thigh for saying too much.

“You two seem like a couple eh?” Till said looking at Nea and Cody.

“We just met but thank you.” Cody smiled and put his hand on nea’s shoulder, Nea blushed and looked down.

“Krhm! May I have your attention please!” A tall man in expensive suit said in strickt voice. Everyone quieted down and turned to look at him.

“It’s amazing to see all of you here. And I’m happy that more of you have taken your loved one with you. My name is Mr Quinton. I am your host this weekend. (nyt on siis perjantai). I’d like to clear out our schedule if I may.” Quinton said and took a folded paper from his pocket and opened it.

“Tonight will it be free for all of you. It is always good to catch up with friends and collagues am I right. Just a slight reminder with pure love to everyone new in these circles to follow our etiquette outside your private rooms and respect the fact that these walls aren’t soundproof.” The man gave out a small laugh and almost everyone chuckled too, other’s bit embarassed by the note.

“Saturday, 8.30 is breakfast privately in canteen for an hour. Ten o’clock we all, comapnions including, will meet in conferense room three, for 45minutes. 11 o’clock the Elite will meet in said room for two hours. Other members and companions can spend their time in hotel’s spa, here in this room or in your own hotel rooms. 13.30 Will be lunch privately in canteen. 15.15 to 18.00 will be Elite and other members meeting in room 3. 18.15 will be dinner again privately in canteen. Then rest of the evening is free, but don’t drink yourself to hangover. We will discuss sunday’s schedule tomorrow. You will have a copy of dresscodes and schedule in your rooms. I would like to thank you all for your time and wish you a glad evening.” Mr. Quinton ended his speech and the room filled with soft applaus.  

“Onks toi niiku joku iso pomo? Ja mikä määrittelee Eliitin ja muut jäsenet.” Nea kysyi hämillään, Cody ja Till vaihtoivat sanojaan heidän vieressä.

“Ei ole. Quinton on ‘Iso Pomon’ oikea käsi, joka toisin sanoen esittää pomon asiat ja niin edelleen. Iso pomo ei ikinä näyttäydy ja ketään ei tiedä kuka se on. Paitsi...No ite oon kerran tavannu sen codyn kaa. Ja siis se ei oo saatana. Pikemminkin saatanan läheisin maanpäällä tallaaja.” Allu selitti nealle joka nyökkäili vieressä ja otti allun juomalasin hörpäten siitä.

“Eliitti on nimensä mukaisesti Eliitti. Siihen kuuluu vaikutusvallaltaan ja ‘voimaltaan’ vahvimmat. Toisin sanoen viisi maailman vaikutusvaltaisinta liikemiestä, Quinton, kolme vahvinta ‘demonia’ ja sitten lol antikristukset minä ja cody.” Allu naurahti sanalle.  

“No mites sit ne muut jäsenet ku tääl on aika paljo porukkaa. Eiks Lindemann oo eliittiä?” t nea nyt vttu

“Ei ole. Muut jäsenet on ns. Sielunsa myyneitä elämässä paljon saavuttaneita porhoja, julkiksija jotka omaa demonisia voimia ja ovat tärkeitä avaimia pelastukseen. Till on itseasiassa top 5 voimakkainta demoo mutta ei silti eliitissä. Ja siis näitä voimia omaavia on itseasiassa aika vähän. Ja satun henkilökohtasesti tuntemaan ne kaikki.” Allu selitti ja sanoi viimeisen lauseen nauraen.  

“Okei. Aika hankalaa. Mut kiintoisaa.” Nea hymäili. Allu otti lasinsa takaisin ja joi loput, ojentaen sen ohi kulkevan tarjoilian tarjottimelle.  

“Anyone interested to kidnap few bottles of wine and soda (looks at alex and nea) and go to one of ours room to, talk bit more loosely.” Till asked. Cody agreed and Alex laughed at Till’s correction/add.  

The four took a bottle of vintage wine bottle (only one) and sixpack of coca-cola from under the buffet table. Dammit allu.

They all went to Till’s room and sat down on the couch. Till and Alex automatically undressing out of the top formal wear and sighing as they threw them on the bed and sat down too.  

“Mikäs se oli!?” Nea said laughing as she and allu openeed their cola cans. The men looking at each other and shrugging.   “we all gotta seemingly have our own secret language.” Cody laughed.  

“Yeah totally. Me and nea have finnish, with Till I have Deutch, Cody and Till have their alpha language (vitullinen nauru kohtaus kaikille).” Alex said

“And- And Cody and Nea will have the unspoken language of love am i right.” Till alkaa vituulisen räkätyksen allun kaa ja nea on vitun awkward ku cody vaa hymyilee ja siemailee wiiniä kattoen neaa.

Allu- Huomaa codyn katseen neaa kohti. “Till can i sleep here tonight.” allu nauro viitaten että nuorella parilla ois villi yö

Till- “Oh yess you can i won’t mind a bit.” naurua ja wannabe flirtti ääni

Nea- “why couldn’t i be in cody’s room tho.” nea sano viattomasti katsoen allua ja tilliä (fhoewjgow äää) kuin heidän välillään ei missään nimessä voisi olla mitään.

Cody- “Because I'm sharing a room with my close actor friend.” Taas perus hymy vittu mies sä oot mysteerinen.

“oh” nea said and drank cola. “Till I'm still a lazy bastard do you have any pants i could borrow for a while, these leather ones arent the most comfortable pair.” Alex asked already standing up.

“I like them on you. I mean they aren’t really most comfortable to me neither if ya know what i mean. “ And till slapped alex butt. It was hared slap than a person woud jokingly give to other but it was till and alex so it was verrattavissa to small pet on butt. Alex slapped till on the back of his head and went to go thru his luggage.

Cody- “Is it always like that?” Cody asked half seriously but still laughing too

Till- “Well... Yes kind of.”

Allu tuli takaisin itseasiassa pelkällä isolla t-paidalla takaisin.

“are you fucking serious you iterally dont have any manners.” Till said and checked alex out.

Allu: “Well all your pants were like bed sheets for me. Nea has seen me in my underwear million times even as i was literally vomit drunk so doesn’t matter.”  

Till- “Yes but there is a another male in this room. Who happens to be almost as powerful as you.” Somehwat jealousy and a need to own someonedrpped thru his voice.

Allu- “key word Almost. And he doesn’t have time to look at me with AnOtHeR wOmAn in this room.” ouuuuuu

Nea gave alex a glare. “Hei mä yritän vaan saada sulle munaa dont blame me.” Allu sanoi ja nea ei pystynyt edes esittämään vihaista.

Nyt venyy kyllä jo kolmi osaseks huhuh...

[jinniesxlamp]

The Tables Have Turned - Chapter 12 (Finale)

A/N: I just wanted to express my deepest gratitude to each and everyone of you who made The Tables Have Turned a meaningful creation. Without all your love and support, the story would not have come to life at all. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you! 😊❤

Warnings: Long chapter ahead. Heavy angst in between. Slight smut.

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

I came to work the next day fighting the same battle I had with myself the night before. The whole day yesterday, I was hoping to get some rest which I failed relentlessly. Jin having the day off and being around me the entire time only made it more difficult for me to survive. He prepared all our meals, all of which I politely declined, wanting to throw up every after five minutes.

Needless to say, I wasn’t myself; during conversations, my responses would somehow go off topic or sometimes I wouldn’t even answer at all. At lunch I barely touched the lunchbox Jin had made for me. Out of all the times he decided to be so good, it had to be now. I stared into the colorful lunchbox with all my favorites on top of the rice--pork tonkatsu cut into strips, pressed neatly on the center, surrounding it in a clockwise manner were seasoned mushrooms, spinach, bean sprouts, carrots and napa cabbage kimchi. 

Eun Bi was starting to notice, staring at me while she ate her gimbap.

“You know, he’ll get over it soon” I turned to her, confused.

“Hm?”

“Judging by the look on your face and how you almost cut your finger earlier, I’m thinking your husband  got upset with how drunk you were last night.” she continued while chewing.

I made no further comments not wanting to open up the real reason why I’ve been acting weird.

“If he really loves you, he will understand. No matter what it is.—

It’s his job as your spouse; marrying your past, present and future whether it’s success or failure, all the right and all the wrong that comes with who you are—he married them. Therefore, he will accept them.”

My eyes kept themselves observing her as she chewed on the last roll, placing the lid on her own lunchbox.

“I’m not even sure if what I did was wrong in his eyes but I still feel guilty” I sighed talking quietly.

“So he doesn’t know it yet, does he?”

I shook my head weakly, looking down onto my lunchbox again.

She sighed.

“You know, you wouldn’t actually feel guilty if you knew it didn’t matter to him”

Jin’s POV

Looking back at the events from weeks, and even months ago made me think hard about the things I’m willing to change with myself. With Y/N, with us.

Allowing myself to see the circumstances clearly impeled me to do the things I should’ve done a long time ago; breaking up with Irene wasn’t as damaging as I thought it would be compared to seeing Y/N with Mark.

I also started doing little gestures like sending her flowers on random days, cooking her favorite meals. I even thought about sending her daily written love letters but then I remembered—she didn’t know about how I felt yet. In fact, she didn’t know anything.

Leaving her to be with Mark was something I considered for a long time. He was a good man after all, I know this because I’ve seen him prove himself in ways I haven’t, countless times. But there was this longing in my heart, whispering, giving me the tiniest sign of hope that maybe if she knew, she would come running back into my arms.

I wanted her to know that I love her. That I needed her to come back to me. I didn’t want to make anymore excuses, not anymore. I’ve made up my mind. I’m taking her back—

Today.

I started exploring the kitchen from the fridge to the cabinets, gathering all the ingredients I could find to decide what to make for dinner.

We’re always eating Korean food. We never had any of her native food which I knew she missed a whole lot. Y/N still belonged to an Asian denomination which was good since the flavoring didn’t differ too much. I searched several recipies on Naver, leaning my back on the kitchen counter by the sink. Soon after, the site gave me an entire list of names which were slightly familiar to me. Sadly, I lacked a few ingredients for most of them except the pork broth soup. She made this for me one time, it was good but Jin at that time being Jin complained why she hadn’t made Korean food. She ended up eating it alone as I walked out, leaving her hurt and discouraged. That was the last time she ever made something she liked.

“Pabo.” I whispered, sighing to myself.

My attention was caught by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Nugu sijyo?” I yelled, walking to the door.

“Kim Seokjin?” asked the delivery man who seemed a bit younger than I was. He was about Jungkook’s age.

“Ne” I confirmed which led him to hand me a suspiciously large envelope. It wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t as small as normal letter envelopes. It was one of those yellowish-brown ones used to carry important not-to-be-folded documents.

“Ige mwoji?” I questioned myself not expecting a delivery, especially not something of this kind.

This can’t be from the company either. They never send us anything through mail. I took a few minutes to stare at it then finally deciding to rip it open, carefully.

“Muo ya? Pictures?” I searched for my glasses, bringing the entire envelope with me to the living room, sitting down on the sofa before taking a look at the poor quality pictures. They seemed to be taken with a CCTV camera from how unclear they were. I stared closely at the first picture, furrowing my brows, trying to figure out what it was.

This can’t be.

I scanned through the other pictures, only to find worse and worst.

I felt my right hand shake, unconsciously crumpling the edges of the last piece of paper. It was then when I felt the ground beneath me crumble. Every thing else around me fell apart as I tried to catch my breath. Feeling every warm tear that fell down my cheeks. 

I was inconsoluble.

Y/N’s POV

“You have one thing to do on your part, Y/N the rest is up to him”

“That is?”

“Be honest to him.”

The last conversation I had with Eun Bi shed light to the dilemma I felt. She was right. I need Jin to know simply because I want him to know. I just want to get this heavy, pulling feeling off my chest. But there was something I needed to do before I went home to Jin.

Immediately after work, I texted Jin letting him know I was going to be a bit late, but not too late for dinner. He didn’t reply, something that wasn’t quite shocking. I stood quietly under a very familiar tree in front of the Han River, waiting. I couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful memories this mere tree brought into my life.

I heard footsteps disturbing the grass, telling me I was no longer alone. He stood beside me in silence. His presence still comforts me in a very specific way. It wasn’t something I could find in anyone—not even Jin. Even after what had happened, I almost thought I’d become afraid to be near him. But how could I be afraid of the one man who took care of me with pure sincerity? How he gave me his jacket in the midst of snowfall, wiped my tears when I was to weak to do so. 

I could never fear the one person who showed me the real meaning of love.

“Do you remember this place?” I started gently, staring into the steady waters.

“ ‘Ahh. This is the saddest birthday I ever spent my whole life’ was what I kept telling myself that night. I was devastated, I really was. I felt so worthless at that time. Asking myself ‘how can someone mean so little—almost nothing to the world?’ I cried endlessly to the stars, wishing, pleading for something to help me get through that horrible evening—

He turned to me with those same glistering eyes he had that night

Do you want to know what I wished for?—

A weak smile curved from his lips.

I wished for an angel. I said to the heavens, If you can hear the cries of my heart....please. Send me an angel; a friend who will help me get through this night without breaking.—

Then it started to snow. I ran and I ran to this tree, the only visible shelter I could find. And then you were there. Exactly as I asked; An angel; A friend who will help me get through the night without breaking”

I slowly walked towards him, taking his right hand and holding it tight as I looked into his loving eyes

“You showed me the real meaning of love, Mark. And I will forever hold that within my heart. No matter how troubled this is, know that you belong in the only peaceful place here—

I took his hand, making him feel every beat of it.

You gave me sanity in this complicated life, Mark.”

Releasing your hand, I dried my own tears and continued

“I tried to reciprocate your feelings, every day I kept trying. But the more I did, the more I saw Jin instead of you. You always came to me, always waited even when you’re tired or hopeless. 

Even after spending an entire day filled with happiness beside you, the feeling of emptiness still came to me at night. That’s when I realized; no matter what you did, no matter how you made me feel, you still weren’t the missing piece I was looking for—you still weren’t Jin.”

Mark’s POV

My heart twisted mercilessly as I stood there listening to Y/N, watching her dry her own tears.

“I can’t keep doing this to you, Mark. Not when I know you deserve a better love. One that doesn’t require you to wait. Someone who can give their whole heart to you and not merely half. You deserve that kind of love.”

Gently, I dried your eyes one last time, holding you for the very last time, telling you not to worry; letting you know that I will be okay.

“You belong in his arms. It’s time for you to go back.”

I stayed a little bit more, allowing the sight of the River to distract me after watching you walk away. The peace it brought didn’t want me to pick up the phone that kept ringing inside my pocket.

“You’re on your own. I let her go.” The hint of pain in my voice wasn’t something I tried to hide as I spoke to answer.

I heard the woman grunt evilly on the other side of the line.

“Oh, Mark. I can’t say I’m disappointed. We both knew from the beginning you weren’t capable of hurting poor Y/N”

Something about the enthusiasm in her devilish voice gave me a very bad feeling.

“I told you didn’t I? Just stick to the plan and I’ll take care of the rest”

The next thing I knew she was no longer on the line. What was she planning to do? Think, Mark. What was the plan? 

You didn’t know.

The only thing Irene instructed me to do was to find a place where I could bring you for a night. Somewhere only the two of us knew. I told her about the secret house I bought for my family which we decided to use.

“Take her there tomorrow night while I take care of Jin.” Was what she said. You getting drunk on that same night wasn’t helping at all. It made it so easy for me to push through with the plan.

But what didn’t make sense to me was she insisted I give her the passcode. Why? What did she need it for? Unless—

My eyes widened as I ran as fast as I could towards my car, hitting the steering wheel in frustration with every stop I had to make.

Wasting no time upon arriving, I entered the same code I wrote for Irene on that same piece of paper, bolting the door open and searching the house. My gaze shifted towards the room you spent the night in. Swallowing whatever there was to swallow, I opened the door hoping to be wrong. I eyed all the possible places she could possibly attach that thing. 

Then to my horror, there it was, standing in front of the TV. It was so small anyone could easily miss it. The way it was positioned gave a perfect view of the bed.

I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Y/N’s POV

Now that I have settled things with Mark, it was time I did the same with Jin. Although most part of me was scared, the remaining part was determined to be freed, and the only way that was possible was to tell Jin. Every thing. From how I’ve been feeling emptier the day we stopped talking, to how I wished he had said something during the times he saw me leave to see Mark. There was no hidding anymore. Whether he chose me or not, I was ready to tell him I still loved him with all that I am and all that I have.

I entered the house which was rather darker than usual.

“I’m ho—

J-Jin”

I said. The way he sat in the middle of the sofa with his arms leaning on his thighs and hands held together, slouching and looking down made me tremendously nervous.

“I’m only going to ask you once. Where were you that night?”

His voice was cold and angry, he almost sounded hurt.

I felt my throat run dry, and my tongue hidding as I spoke.

“I-I was with my co-workers” I blurted out.

“Co-workers?” He grunted. The displeasure in his voice only grew worse.

“Then how do you explain this?!” His rageful voice made me jump in surprise as he picked what looked like photographs from the coffee table in front of him.

I composed myself, wanting to see what he was talking about. Grabbing the photos which were evidently crumpled by the side, my heart started to race as I scanned from one print out to the other.

“Jin. I can explain” I said sternly, remembering my reason for coming home today. He was going to hear the truth no matter what.

“Explain what Y/N? That picture says it all” standing up from the couch, he started walking in front of me, back and forth answering me with pure sarcasm.

“You need to hear the truth, Jin” I said again.

“What truth? That you slept with another man, doing corrupt acts even when you’re lawfully married? Ha! Give me a break Y/N. You even had the audacity to record it on camera? Disgusting”

Not knowing how or what to feel, Jin was starting to let irrational things slip out his mouth. Things he didn’t mean but Y/N didn’t know that.

The last word he said felt like a big, hollow blade ripped through my chest, making me say things I never thought would come out of my mouth.

“That’s interesting knowing you’ve been sleeping with another woman since the day we got married.” I huffed with the same amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t you dare bring her into this!” He snared.

“Why? I like knowing there’s another disgusting woman besides me who would dare share a bed with a married man” My hands trembled in a fist, I wasn’t going to let him defend her again.

“Hah. At least we had the decency not to film our lewd acts on camera”

Slap.

It felt unreal that I brought my hand swinging across Jin’s face.

That was just really unfair.

Mark and I barely kissed. No actually, he kissed me. I never returned it. We never had sex, which I’m sure they’ve had. Not once, not twice. Judging by the countless times I caught her scent on him, they must’ve done it half the time we had been married. It wasn’t silent between us, I was breathing heavily in anger.

“Do you want a divorce?”

Jin’s POV

My whole being had been crushed at the though of his hands on her. How he must’ve touched her in several places. Thinking of the sounds she must’ve made drove me insanely crazy. I wanted to find him, throw him onto the ground and beat him up. When she didn’t deny it, my anger only flared more causing me to say things without thinking.

I felt her hand swing across my face, signaling defeat. 

She no longer found herself in my arms. 

As if trying to break my heart some more until I no longer felt it, I asked her the question I never thought would come out of my mouth.

“Do you want a divorce?” I said helplessly.

Her eyes started to water, sending my knees weak. 

Wasn’t this what she wanted?

“Of course....of course you would ask for a divorce.—

She whispered to herself.

It’s always the easy way out for you, Jin. You always want the easy way where you won’t have to fight for anything. Where you won’t have anything to lose. Why do I feel like you just waited for me to make one big mistake so you can leave me for good? Why?—

My eyes looked at hers, wanting to tell her the truth. That I thought that’s what she wanted; to be free with him. Was I wrong?

It would have been easier if you had just left without saying goodbye. In that way I could still think you would come back to me on days when you fought. On days when she would make you feel lonely. It would have been easier for me if you just did what you used to do, love her while you let me love you, even when I know you didn’t feel the same way—

I’d much rather catch her perfume on your skin than not smell your presence at all—

But to have me make a mistake and make it as a reason to run, you’re taking the one thing I treasure most in this world. You’re taking you away from me, Jin.”

My eyes widened as her voice began to break, slowly walking towards her, trembling. But she walked backwards with every step I took.

“Y-y/N”

“The truth is, Jin. I didn’t mind waiting for you even if it meant forever. No matter how much you insult the dishes I made that didn’t satisfy you, no matter how much you despised seeing me sleeping on the same bed as you. You could tell me I looked stupid while trying to dress nicely for you all you want, I wouldn’t mind. I can swallow all that.—

I tried to come closer, but you continued to move away with every step I took

“Y/N, please...listen to me” I pleaded.

The truth is, I kept making the purpose of our marriage as an excuse to keep you from running away from me. But now, seeing how you’re using it to leave made me realize I should stop.”

“If that’s what’s going to make you completely, genuinely and absolutely happy. Then okay—

Tears started to form in my own eyes, begging her to stop walking away from me so I could hold her and tell her how much I loved her. How I can no longer live my life if she leaves me again.

If you want a divorce, Jin—then okay”

Before I could watch her turn her back on me again, before she could leave me and never comeback, I grabbed her arms, forcing her to look into my eyes as we both shed tears.

“Hit me” I said weakly, puppeting her arms to hit my chest.

“A-are you crazy?” She whined, struggling to get away from my grip

“Hit me. Hit me again and again until I learn how to tell you how I feel.—

From the day you walked out that door after I said you meant nothing to me, I wanted to tear down every part of Seoul. Every single alley, and every street just to know where you had gone. Seeing you leave knowing you might have had enough. That you might not be coming back scared me. And when I saw you with Mark I wanted to grab you when you didn’t hold on to my arm.—

“S-stop it Jin” you said, not wanting to hear anymore from me as you continued to squirm out of my grip

Gah. From the very first day I saw him smiling at you at the awards night, I didn’t like how uneasy he made me feel; like he was going to take you away from me—

“J-Jin s-stop” you cried this time but I wanted you to hear every thing.

When he ran after you at the Charity Concert, I almost lost it. When he had told me he might lose his decency towards our marriage, had it not been in public, I would not have thought twice about throwing him into a wall.—

A weak smile started to curve up my lips, my tears falling down a little more.

Since the day you stopped sleeping by my side, my nights had become excruciatingly cold. I kept picturing your beautiful face bidding me good night.—

The day you stopping running into my arms and forcing a kiss into my lips, which I always denied, left my day incomplete.”

“I-I don’t want to hear this, Jin” you shook your head from side to side while I continued to speak.

“Baby, please” I pleaded once more, asking you to stop and listen while I held your face.

Finally, you calmed down. Looking at me straight, allowing yourself to cry

“Taking you for granted because I knew you were always going to be there, and having tasted the feeling of having you being taken away from me made me realize—if you had not loved me the way you did, and left—it would have been the biggest regret I’d have to live for the rest of my life.”

Being able to say all the things I’ve kept from you, very gently, I pulled your face closer to mine, closing the gap between our lips.

I felt your hand rest on my chest, returning the kiss with your sweet, cherry lips I missed so much. Licking your bottom lip, you immediately allowed entrance allowing our tongues to dance with each other while our bodies moved as the kiss intensifies.

Suddenly, her back was pressed onto the door of our bedroom. Without breaking the kiss, I twisted the knob open, causing her to gasp and pull on my shirt. Her hands started to tug on my chest, separating our lips in the process. I gave her one last peck before sliding off my coffee colored sweater above my head. My lips found itself on hers again, slowly pushing her onto the bed with her chest halfway exposed as she unbuttoned her work uniform while I was removing my sweater. I continued to kiss her lips for awhile before traveling towards her jaw then her neck. I started to nibble on it at first while I was busy undoing the rest of the buttons of her tight blouse. The first moan came out her mouth as I started to suck on her neck, just below her right jaw. I couldn’t help but smirk. Her skin tasted too sweet.

“Hmm J-Jin” she threw her head back as another moan escaped her throat while my lips traveled lower to her plump breasts, getting rid of her bra rather quickly. Her fingers tangled around my hair as I started sucking on her right nipple, my hands massaging the other. Switching roles, I started moaning on her left nipple causing her to moan a little louder. I felt a tight sensation starting to build up in my lower region. Abandoning her breasts, and moving down her stomach, I frowned at the sight of her short skirt.

“What is it?” she asked, worried.

“Don’t you think this is too short to be worn at work?” I said earning an eye roll.

She began unzipping it by herself, letting it slide down her legs, revealing her black lingerie that matched her bra from earlier. I began unbuckling my belt, getting rid of everything else before ripping of her last piece of clothing.

“Jin!” She yelled, smacking my shoulders.

“I’ll buy you new ones” was all I said, bending down, giving all my attention to her wet woman hood.

Her moans echoed throughout the bedroom, her back arching in pleasure giving me more access for my tongue.

Placing her hips down, I was about to insert one finger inside her when I noticed something—she was untouched.

I stopped to look at her, not wanting to do anything deliberate without her full permission. She nodded slowly, signaling me to proceed.

Tonight, we didn’t only engage ourselves in slow, romantic sex. It was more than that. Something deeper.

We made love.

She snuggled closer to my chest, wrapped around the navy blue sheets, tracing patterns on my skin. I took her hand, placing it on my cheek after kissing it. She began to move higher up the bed, revealing the love marks I made on her neck as she stared into my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Y/N’s POV

I was busy admiring his chest, shoulders and the rest of what he was until he took my hand, planting a kiss on it before resting it on his face. Something was bothering him so I asked.

“I’m sorry” he said.

“Shhh” I replied, my thumb massaging his lips.

“You and Mark...What happened?” There was doubt within himself as to whether or not he should ask but I’m glad he did.

“I was drunk and he took me to this house” Jin suddenly moved, brows furrowed.

“Did he take advantage of you?” He tried to ask calmly but I knew him to well to know what his reddened ears meant. I shook my head slowly, answering a ‘no’

“He kissed me. I didn’t stop him, but I didn’t return the favor. I couldn’t let him touch me like that. Not while I thought of you”

I felt him pull me closer, kissing me deeply.

Like an unwanted wake up call, my phone beeped. I pulled away from Jin who was annoyed at the sudden interruption.

I opened the message learning it was from Mark.

“Who is it?” He asked as he placed a kiss on my left shoulder.

Instead of telling him and giving him enough time to nag before I could show him the message, I passed my phone to him so he could read it himself.

“Y/N. I’m sorry. Irene wired my room.”

I heard Jin groan in annoyance although I wasn’t sure towards who.

“Jin. Since you know the truth about Mark and I, I just wanted to know....regardless of how I’m going to feel about it, I want you to tell me the truth.”

He stared at me, placing the the phone down.

“What is it?”

“Did you u-um...d-did you and Irene..”

I didn’t have to finish my question. From the look on his face, he already knew. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yes and no—

Yes, I touched her. And no, she never touched me. We never went that far. I respected Hitman Bang too much for that.”

I frowned remembering what she told me the night I slapped her.

“But she said you were good in bed” I pouted, making him pull me even closer.

“What do you need to believe her for? You’re the only one who can attest to that” I felt myself blush as he smirked, whispering into my ear.

“Besides, you won’t have to worry about her”

Pushing his chest slightly, I tilted my head giving him a confused look.

“I told her I wanted to be with you and not see her anymore”

I smiled, watching him close his eyes as he laid flat on his back.

“I love you” he said.

“I love you too, Jin” I replied, resting my head on his chest.

Almost a year had gone by and here I was, sweating profusely in front of three boiling pots. After two months of being away, Jin, and the rest of the boys were coming home from tour. I was carefully tasting on each of the pots when I heard the door shut. 

He’s home!

Quickly turning the stove off, I ran towards the front door only to be met with a pair of pulpy lips at the kitchen entrance.

“I missed you. So much.” He said, cupping my face as he pressed his nose agaisnt mine.

“I missed you too, Jin” I replied.

“I have something for you” he said, taking a huge bouquet of flowers from the livingroom.

Ever since we decided to be together again, he started buying me the most beautiful bouquets at random days, all of different flowers. He asked me what my favorite flowers were and I told him I didn’t really have one. Since then, he decided to buy me different bouquets of flowers until I knew which one I loved the most.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you baby” I said, giving him a peck on the lips

“Go take a shower before the boys get here” pushing him towards the bedroom, I went back to go set up the table. We were celebrating my birthday early today instead of tomorrow since Jin wanted it to be just the both of us. After countless begs from the three maknaes, I convinced Jin to invite all of them over for dinner.

I was leaning on the counter, facing the sink, biting my lip, enjoying the conversation I was having with this person when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“That was fast” I giggled, still typing on my phone while he rested his head on my shoulder

“Who are you texting?” He asked, annoyed with a bit of jealousy.

Jin had become a somewhat jealous and possessive husband. In his defense, he said he wasn’t taking anymore chances not after Mark.

“It’s GD oppa. He thought it was already my birthday so he greeted. Look. His girl friend is beautiful”

Jin quickly peeked at the picture, quite curious to see the face of the woman behind GD’s sensational new album called ‘I Found Her’

“Wah. She really is beautiful”

We continued to exchange messages, not really minding Jin for now until I felt his grip tighten around me and hot, soft lips nipping on my skin.

“Jagiya” he whispered

“Hmm?” I replied, typing the last three words of my message

“Baby” he moaned softly.

At that point you knew what he wanted. He only ever called you baby during two circumstances; when he had done something wrong or when he pleaded for something he wanted so bad—sex.

Although you wanted to let him take you right there on the kitchen floor, you just couldn’t have your house smelling like sex, traumatized with the one time you invited Jin’s brother and his girl friend over and having Jin tell you before bed how his brother had teased him about the stain he saw on the couch where you had two rounds of sex before they arrived.

“Not now, baby. The boys are going to be here soon” I said, declining, stretching my neck to the side to allow him more access. That’s when I noticed he was actually shirtless!

“It’s been too long, baby. Just once?” He continued to moan onto my skin, making me soaking wet down there but it was still a no.

“No can do baby. Later after dinner” I said, facing him. He didn’t seem very happy at all with me refusing all his attempts.

“How about this, if you can wait until dinner is over we can go as many times as you want.”

His irritation began fading, considering the deal I just made with him.

“Put on a shirt, they’re going to be here soon” I said, leaning in to give him a kiss.

The next thing I knew, my living room was now being occupied by yelling men on the floor, cursing as they tried to kill each other off the screen. Namjoon and Yoongi sat on the sofa, watching them go for another match after Jin’s third win. Hoseok had just walked out from the kitchen, bringing the bag of rice crispies I handed to him earlier. He liked those things.

“Noonaaaa we need a little help” whined Taehyung, not wanting to lose to Jin again. I giggled softly, gently planting a kiss on the right side of Jin’s lips.

“Ya! Ya! Ya!” 

“Yes!!!!!” Taehyung rejoiced, throwing the controller up into the air while Jin whined how unfair that was.

“Dinner is ready everyone” I said, leading all of them towards the kitchen.

I watched at the scene happening before me. The way we laughed at Jin and Jungkook’s bickering. Jimin’s sparkling eyes as he enjoyed the meal I prepared. Namjoon’s stories from tour and Yoongi and Hoseok inspecting the soup I made, trying to pin point an exact wayto describe it aside from ‘good.’ 

“Mas-issneun” whispered Jin, planting a soft kiss on my cheek.

I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more. This was what happiness meant to me. This was home.

[nomimits7]

The Egyptian God’s prey | Chapter 13

Title: The Egyptian god’s prey

Parings: Jimin x OT6BTS  

Warnings: Swearing. Mention of death. Mention of Nazi’s. Inaccurate Egyptian’s history… I improvised. Mention of kidnap, kind of (he ends up stranded). Severe sunburn. Kind of incest ( The Egyptians gods sometimes married their siblings). Talk about death and killing. They open up about their past. 

Summary: After the bombshell Taehyung dropped the boys had to make a big decision. Hoseok feels the need to tell his story and Jimin really loves being cuddled in blankets. 

Chapter 12

Hoseok hasn’t stopped pacing since Taehyung stopped talking a good hour ago. All of the boys were still in the common room, all of them except Namjoon and Jimin. Namjoon ran off to somewhere shortly after the story and Jimin was still sleeping. The rest of them were in their own little bubble. The story Taehyung told them sounded like something straight out of some fanfiction or something, but they knew it was true. If there was one thing Taehyung could never do, it was lie.

It’s a hard pill to swallow. They were so mean towards Jimin before he was even brought to the desert. How on earth would they ever make up for their mistakes? How could anyone ever consider forgiveness? They certainly didn’t deserve anything of that sort.

“We need to reassure him. I know we had a plan to use his, but I am almost certain you all will agree that he has been used enough” Yoongi said as he played with one of his rings. His voice held so much regret it almost made the rest of the boys flinch.

“Perhaps… Perhaps we can show him how he should have been raised. I mean, he is a god. That makes him family and I might have grown fond of him” Seokjin said as he looked at the rest of the boys. He had a slight blush on his face.

“You mean… accept him as one of us? Allow him to live here forever?” Hoseok asked.

“Yes, the poor boy has been through enough. Let’s get revenge on Mut and her actions by turning her son into what she tried to avoid. A good god” Seokjin replied. It kind of made sense to the rest of the boys. They all no longer felt the need to destroy Jimin. Besides, you can’t destroy something that never existed.

“You know what. I think that is a very good idea. We get to add another precious gem to our house and Jimin gets to experience everything his mother withheld from him, but we need to all agree on this. I mean all of us so we’ll make a final decision once Namjoon comes back from wherever he had disappeared to. Agreed?” Jungkook asked.

“Agreed “ the rest all echoed. It seemed like a near impossible task, but how can it be difficult to love someone like Jimin? He was so pure and innocent, even if he was an arrogant, annoying little brat back before he found his way to the desert.

“Can I-... Can I talk to Jimin next and show him my true self? I know he kind of knows about me, but I want to tell him the whole story. Besides, I think he’ll relate to my story on some level. That could help” Hoseok said as he shifted from foot to foot. He knew that what happened in the past was just that, in the past, but he still felt like Jimin would judge him for it.

“Are you sure you are ready? You look restless” Seokjin said. Ever the observant one. He always knew how Hoseok felt before Hoseok himself knew.

“Yes, I need to know how he feels. That’s the only way I will be totally at peace” Hoseok said as he slightly smiled at Seokjin. Gods, he loved that man. Through everything he never left his side. Even when he was at his lowest point.

***

The first thing Jimin noticed when he woke up was that he somehow made it back to Taehyung's room. The second thing he noticed was how warm he was. Too warm, in fact Jimin felt as if he was being boiled. For some reason Taehyung had piled a grand total of five blankets on top of him. Why? He did not know.

Jimin had no idea why he felt so much more rested, but he liked the feeling. He was just about to get out of the bed when everything that happened within the past 24 hours came crashing down on him. From his late night dancing on the balcony to him being caught by Taehyung. Taehyung's secret room and his godly form. Taehyungs promise and Jimin’s breakdown session.

Gods, he was pathetic. Just like his mother used to say when he seeked her comfort late at night. He was so used to holding himself as he slept that he eventually stopped seeking out a comfort he knew he would never get from her.

Jimin felt as if he would never escape her memory. Yes, he was sad when he lost her. He never got the chance to say goodbye. She was still his mother, even if it didn’t always feel like it. He still loved her, despite her shortcomings.

As Jimin crawled back into bed to sleep for the rest of his life, the door to the room opened. Hoseok peeked inside and smiled as he saw Jimin peek at him from beneath the blanket heep.

“Taehyung sure has a way to let his maternal side show. Every single one of us has been in your position before. Sometimes he loses grip on the concept of personal space and the fact that we are adults. He is the best cuddler though” Hoseok said as he started removing some of the blankets. It almost made Jimin wine as he felt the weight lift off of him.

“I see why he did what he did,” Hoseok said as he chuckled at Jimin’s pout and small wine of protest. Gosh this boy needs to be protected. He was small, so so small. Hoseok had no doubt that he would be able to fit in his pocket. Perhaps he should put Jimin in his pocket to protect.

“Now now, I want to show you my room” Hoseok said as he finally pulled Jimin from the bed. Jimin was still pretty reluctant to get out of the bed, but the promise of seeing another room made up for it. He really wanted to see Hoseok's room. He knew a little bit of Hoseok's past. The whole story is about him doing something to one of the other boys, but he wanted to hear it from Hoseok himself.

What Jimin didn’t exactly expect was to be led to another common room. This one was very similar to the other common area Jimin first woke up in, but it also wasn’t. This one was far more colourful. It had depictions of other gods, and this room was meant to entertain. It had gaming stations and a big cinema like Tv. It also had its own bar-like area along with a set of glass doors that led to an outside area where Jimin could see a fire pit. It wasn’t anything like the previous rooms he saw.

“So, what do you think?” Hoseok asked as he turned to gaze at Jimin. Hoseok was clearly nervous, but he also had this hope in his eyes. Jimin felt obligated to be honest with him.

“Well, this is certainly not exactly what I expected. Your room is so much different from the rest of the boys, well the ones I have seen. It kind of looks like a common area” Jimin said in a softer tone. He didn’t want to hurt Hoseoks feelings by being too brutally honest, but then again, Hoseok deserved his honest thoughts.

“Oh! That’s because it is. My room isn’t for me. It’s for everyone” Hoseok said with a smile. Jimin was rightfully confused at this point.

“I am not following,” Jimin said as he made his way over to one of the couches.

“Well, to understand why I probably need to tell you my history. I will ask you to not interrupt me. I am nervous of your reaction so once I begin I can’t stop” Hoseok said as he started pacing in front of Jimin. Jimin could only nod as he watched Hoseok. With one final breath Hoseok made direct eye contact with Jimin.

“Back in the day, before everything went to shit, I was a very well received god. I am Seth. A sky god, a trickster and desert lord. I used to live for the chaos that came with storms and disorder. I was a beast on the battlefield. I had one of the most important jobs one could have. I was tasked to help Ra every night. I was the one that kept Ra’s boat safe from the chaos serpent Apophis, because I was the only one capable of controlling it. I was important. I was seen as something more than just the god of chaos and disorder.

But then Amun came and took away everything that I held dear to me. He somehow absorbed Ra and suddenly there was no more use for me other than chaos. I felt abandoned even if I knew I wasn’t. My family was there for me. All five of them held me when I cried and tried to comfort me when I had my silent days. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. I lost sight of what I was. I started listening to what the humans saw me as. A monster. I became the monster they all feared me to be, but the cherry on the cake came in the form of Apophis’s disappearance. After Ra was absorbed I still did my nightly duty of keeping the boat safe, but once there wasn’t a reason for me to go… I lost total control.

Namjoon came to me to try and comfort me. He was always the one who came to me first. Like he knew, but that day I lost all control. My reality became blurred and I… I took everything out on him. We fought, like really fought, but with my own powers out of control I won. I killed Namjoon” Hoseok said as he looked at Jimin. His own tears matched the pace at which Jimin’s own tears ran down his face. Hoseok knew he needed to continue. Jimin had to hear everything, he had to see him for what he was.

“ I was so ashamed of what I had done, that I scattered his body all over Egypt. I cried for days on end. That’s how Taehyung and Seokjin found me. They were searching for us both. I had no choice but to tell them. Taehyung yelled and cursed at me. I think he even managed to slap me a few times. Seokjin just stared at me in shock. He was always the one that knew me the best. Till this day I have no idea why, but he grabbed me and Taehyung and hugged us. AFter Taehyung calmed down he hugged me because they also knew why it happened. They weren’t blind to my downward spiral.

We made a promise there and then that we would look for Namjoon. Even if we fail to bring him back, we would at least give him the burial he deserved. We searched for so long, but we finally found him. All of him and Taehyung somehow managed to bring him back. You would think that if you were killed by your own brother that your first reaction to seeing them would be anger, but do you know what namjoon did when he saw me? He fucking hugged me while apologising” Hoseok said with a slight chuckle

Jimin had no idea what to make of this. He heard about the story of Seth killing Osiris and then Isis brought him back, but he never knew the emotion that came with the true story. The history books sure did fail to mention Hoseok and Seokjin involvement.

“After that I stuck to my routine. Each night I would take to the sky just to feel some semblance of belonging somewhere. They forgave me for what I have done, but I could never forget Namjoon’s face as I killed him. I could never forget his screams and the tears he had in his eyes. I still can’t. I am still the monster the humans saw me as” Hoseok said as he took on his godly form. The entire room felt much darker than it had been.

“This is why my room is a room for everyone. I need them to keep me sane. They are the reason I am still here. They are my source of energy. They are my special place I go to, to recuperate and just be me. Their love is all I need to keep going and I hope that one day yours will be included in it” Hoseok said as he gazed around the room. He felt a lot darker than his special room, but that was exactly why he chose a colourful theme. It made everything feel a lot less lonely.

Without thinking Jimin stood up from where he was seated and made his way over to Hoseok. Well seth. He had no idea what he was feeling, but he knew he felt some sort of admiration for Hoseok. Almost like he could relate to him. He gently lifted his hand to Hoseok’s face, startling the god before him. ‘

“You are beautiful. You might be one of the only people in this house that can’t see it. Just because it’s part of your past, doesn’t mean it is still part of you. Yes, you did something horrible, but why is it that you are the only one that is still punishing yourself for it? Without your chaos you bring the world would be so boring. Thank you for sharing this with me, I can confidently say I know how you feel. Being your own worst enemy isn’t fun because you can never run from yourself” Jimin said as his thumb stroked Hoseok’s cheek.

Hoseok instantly enveloped Jimin into a hug. He never knew he needed to hear those words from Jimin, a stranger. Hoseok could feel how the stress was replaced by relief throughout his body. He felt like a new man. He was right in the beginning. Jimin was a precious bean that needed to be protected. Perhaps that pocket thing could still work.

“Come, let’s watch a movie. I will call the others to join us as well” Hoseok said as he bounded out of the room at lightning speed. Jimin could only chuckle. Perhaps Taehyung was right. Maybe they don’t hate him.

Chapter 14

[lilsherlockian1975]

Part 3 of The Potential of Pairs

Here’s the next installment of my little PotterLock. Once again, huge thanks to @darnedchild and @mrsmcrieff for their help and support. Hope everyone is enjoying it so far, it’s still rated T. @mizjoely thanks again for the prompt, this is for you, my friend! Enjoy! ~Lil~

Part 3 - The Progression of Partnerships

She started meeting up with Sherlock several times a week to study or just talk over theories. Usually, they met in the library but sometimes, if the weather permitted, they’d walk to the Black Lake and sit in the sun as they worked. Eventually, their conversations turned to more personal topics, which surprised her the most.

Soon she learned about the ‘detective business’ that Professor Snape had mentioned. It seemed that Sherlock intended to create his own profession upon graduation: Consulting Detective. Molly was fascinated.

There was so much more to him than bluster and beration. He was actually funny when his scathing wit wasn’t directed at her. One of the most surprising things she found out about him, was that he had a deep compassion for animals and magical creatures.

He talked at length about a dog he’d had while growing up. A dog. Not magical beast, but a regular canine, a mut even. What was a Pureblood doing with a Muggle pet?

She knew he wasn’t a typical Slytherin, his closest friends were Gryffindors, for Merlin’s sake. But with each passing day, Molly found out new and, unfortunately for the crush she thought she was over, wonderful things about the wizard.

One day, whilst studying near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the pair heard a distinct rustling of leaves, then footsteps. Turning to her left, Molly saw a Thestral foal edging close to the clearing where they were seated. The small thing looked frightened and lost (and also a bit terrifying).

Sherlock stood, slowly, carefully and walked toward the creature. “Can you see it, Molly?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the beast.

“Yes,” she whispered as she stood. Having been with her mother when she passed, Molly, unfortunately, could indeed see the skeletal creature.

“Amazing, isn’t he?” Sherlock said as he continued to inch forward. “Hand me a bit of ham.”

It took Molly a couple of seconds to realise what he meant, then she picked up one of the sandwiches they’d been nibbling on as they worked, pulled out the meat and slowly walked to her lab partner. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “It’s a boy?”

He chuckled. “A male, yes.” Nearly reaching the foal, Sherlock stretched out his hand closing the distance and offering it some of the meat.

Molly held her breath, waiting to see how the creature would react. The foal lowered his head, sniffing Sherlock’s hand, then quickly took the proffered snack. Sherlock moved slightly closer and stroked its leather-like skin.

“Come here, Molly. You have to feel this,” Sherlock said.

Slowly, carefully as not to startle it, she stepped closer to them. “Will it let me?”

“Him. And yes. He’s not shy, although he should be.” He took her hand and brought it up to the foal’s nose. “Just be gentle. He doesn’t mind.”

As soon as she touched the creature's snout, Molly gasped, causing it to take a half a step back.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling away.

“No-no. It’s okay.” Sherlock offered the young Thestral another bit of ham. The creature quickly returned, taking the food and allowing the wizard to touch him. “Let’s get him back to his herd.”

“Shouldn't I go get Hagrid?” she asked.

“I know where to lead him,” Sherlock replied, then started to walk deeper into the forest.

Molly followed a bit bewildered, but impressed nevertheless. Ten minutes into their journey, she couldn’t take it any longer. “Sherlock, how do you know where to take him?”

He smirked. “Let’s see if you’ve been paying attention, shall we?”

The witch huffed. He had been teaching her about the science of deduction, but Molly just wanted a straightforward answer, not another lesson.

“Come on, Molly. Why would I have such knowledge?”

She considered it for a moment. “You haven’t taken Magical Creatures since fifth year.” Looking around nervously, she added, “Not that Hagrid has ever taken us this deep into the forest before.”

“True. But you’ve clearly been taking the class.”

“Because they added House-elves, vampires and werewolves to the curriculum and I need the course for my apprenticeship. Though I find the distinction of ‘creatures’ insulting.”

“As do I. But they did remove vampires and werewolves from the Dark Arts classes. Baby steps, Hooper. At least they actually treat them at St. Mungo's now.”

Molly nodded, agreeing with him as she continued to think. The most likely answer was that he would need the knowledge for his future career. Surely solving crimes would involve magical creatures at some point. But if that were the case, why not just take the class? Knowing Sherlock, though, he could simply research what he needed when the time came. No, it wasn’t to do with…

“Molly,” Sherlock whispered as he moved into a clearing. “Stay here and try not to move.”

That’s when she saw it: another Thestral. Only this one was lying on its side, bleeding.

“Wiggy!” Sherlock called out. A second later, a House-elf pop into the clearing.

“Wiggy is here, Master Sherlock!”

“Go get Hagrid, the half-giant. He lives in the gamekeeper's cottage. Hurry,” he instructed the Elf then it Disapparated.

“What’s wrong with it?” Molly asked as Sherlock moved closer. And where did that Elf come from?

“I don’t know. Come closer, tell me what you think.”

Molly inched towards the injured beast. When she got close enough, she saw several deep claw marks in its side; it also clearly had a broken leg. “It’s been attacked.”

“Yes, but by what?”

Just then the Elf and half-giant reappeared in the clearing.

“What’s goin’ on, Sher… Merlin’s beard! The poor thing! Not again!” Hagrid exclaimed as he knelt next to the injured Thestral.

“What do you mean, not again?” Sherlock demanded.

“There’s somethin’ out here, Sherlock. I found a unicorn colt dead not a week ago.”

“I’m assuming it’s nothing to do with you?” the wizard asked knowingly.

“No! I swear it! I’ve not been gamblin’ in months!”

“And you told the Headmistress?”

Hagrid nodded as he gently tended to the creature.

“Will she live?” Molly asked.

“If I’m quick and I have a little help.”

“Molly…” Sherlock said, looking at her pointedly.

“I don’t know anything about healing animals!”

“I can do some of it, but my magic’s not strong enough,” Hagrid explained. “Yer takin’ Poppy’s class, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, but…”

“Come on, Miss Hooper. We’re gonna fix her right up.”

Thirty exhausting minutes later the Thestral was… better. Hagrid said she would live and that he would look after her and her foal, but Molly was worried. She expressed as much to Sherlock on the way back to the castle.

“She’ll be fine, Molly. You did well,” he said with a smile.

“I didn’t realise how cold it had gotten.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

“You used quite a bit of energy, both physical and magical. Here,” he said as he removed his cloak and put it over her shoulders.

Gathering it closer, Molly took a deep breath. Gods! It smelt of him. She had been trying to stave off her crush for weeks, to no avail. It was coming back with a vengeance. “Thanks.”

“That House-elf, who was he?” she asked a few minutes later.

“Wiggy? He’s my personal Elf. Been with me since I was a boy.”

“And you can call him, even here?”

“Yes. Though I rarely do. Time was of the essence, I’m afraid. I’m sure he appreciated it. He gets so bored at the manor.”

Molly rolled the word ‘manor’ around in her head. Her family wasn’t by any means poor, but upper middle class in the Muggle world and wealthy Pure-blood wizards were about a million miles apart.

“We, Molly Hooper, have a mystery to solve,” Sherlock said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“We?”

“Of course! You’ll make an excellent assistant!”

Molly often wondered if Snape was conducting some sort of social experiment for his own amusement with his strange match-ups. The man was brilliant, if not a bit sadistic, surely he had his reasons… right? She had heard all the tales of his exploits during the war and even if only half of them were true, the wizard must have been able to read people better than most. Why then had he paired them all off in such a manner?

Some were doing fine, of course. Sally and Philip seemed to be getting along, for the most part. Though the Hufflepuff wizard did cower from time to time under the stern glare of the witch, but their potions rarely failed. Mike and Irene, oddly enough, were getting on famously. Molly had always found her Housemate a bit shy and lacking in confidence. Since the start of term, however, he was noticeably more self-assured and had been spending an inordinate amount of time with the slutery Slytherin. Molly distantly wondered if they were brewing something other than potions in their spare time. Meena and that Dimmock bloke, who Molly barely knew, were also doing quite well. Meena mentioned that both her and Daniel’s grades had improved since they’d started working together, which was surprising. Her best friend had always disliked Potions even more than Molly.

The other three pairs, however, were having some major issues.

Jim and Mary didn’t exactly seem to be fast friends, for instance, but Mary was far too cool-natured to let the slimy Slytherin get to her. Frankly, Molly thought that the Gryffindor chaser was slowly driving Moriarty crazy with her ability to seem unaffected. He was used to getting a rise out of people. Though she wouldn’t admit it, Molly often enjoyed watching the byplay during the sometimes stressful class.

The most dangerous combination by far was John Watson and Sebastian Moran. Molly was just waiting for the day that the two would end up dueling in the middle of class. Though most of the pairings made sense, in an odd sort of way, this one was just plain scary. Moran was a loose cannon if there ever was one and John, a Gryffindor through and through, clearly had no stomach for the Slytherin’s devious ways. Professor Snape had broken up fist fights between the feuding wizards three times by the middle of November. Thankfully, no wands had been drawn… yet.

Greg usually spent most of the class period ignoring Kitty. Molly knew the Gryffindor quite well and she knew he was too much of a gentleman to tell the Hufflepuff off, but his girlfriend wasn’t. Just after the Christmas hols, Molly was witness to an entertaining confrontation between Sally and Kitty in the hallway before class.

“Oi, Kitty-Cat!” the witch called out.

Riley turned. “What do you want, Donovan?”

Sally stalked up to the ginger. “I’m going to say this slowly and use very small words so that you can follow. If you don’t get your act together and stop screwing around, I’m going to hex you purple.”

“I’m sorry?” Kitty said, planting her hands on her hips.

“You heard me. Ship up, Riley. Greg needs to do well on his N.E.W.T.s to get into the Auror programme, he can’t have you slowing him down. It may not matter to you because of your family, but it does to him. Therefore, it does to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sally rolled her eyes. “What word tripped you up, Kitty? Was it programme? Or have you never heard of an Auror before?”

“I don’t think I like your tone, Sally!”

“I don’t like the amount of blush you wear, but that’s besides the point. Greg’s important to me and this class is important to him. He got saddled with you but he’s too nice mention that you’re a few centaurs shy of a herd.”

“What?”

“You’re knitting with only one needle, Kits,” Sally said with a smirk.

Kitty looked at Molly. “What the hell is she trying to say?”

“She’s saying that you eat soup with a fork, Kitty!” Molly replied, frustrated with the whole scene. Was she really so dumb that she didn’t know when she was being insulted? “That you’re not smart and it’s affecting Greg’s grade!”

A ripple of laughter lit through the corridor, causing Molly to look around. Most of the class was waiting to enter the room. She instantly felt horrible.

“Oh, Kitty…”

“I get it, Molly,” the Hufflepuff said. “You suddenly think you’re hot stuff because you’re working with Holmes. Doesn’t matter, you’re still just ugly, boring little Molly Hooper! One Potions lab won’t change that!” She stormed into the room, leaving Molly standing there, the rest of the students staring at her.

Molly was frozen in place, unsure of what had caused her to say something so mean-spirited to the witch. Suddenly she felt a hand on her back.

“Come on, Molly,” Sherlock said, guiding her into class.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. That was just the outcome Snape was looking for.”

“What?”

He winked as he moved to take his seat.

More to come! Thanks for reading! ~Lil~

[luckynik]

Raise Hell

A/N: This story has the potential to be full length i think, but i would really love some feedback before i go all out… especially since 1st person POV isn't my favorite. Just keep it constructive please.

Summary: Chaos in Hell threatens to spill topside as demons and gods war for Crowley’s empty throne. The young demon!reader comes to the boys for help and protection and, with her sudden arrival, Sam and Dean learn Crowley’s last dark secret. And there is more to her than meets the glowy-red eye. 

Afterwards, to get his brother’s mind off the mysterious, hot demon girl, Sam finds them a case, and things spiral out of control—literally. Dean’s impulse control wasn’t great to start, but after a run-in with a strange woman in the woods, he starts to lose control of himself…again. Y/N and Sam try to rein him in before he loses it completely, but not before he does something he may not actually regret…

Pairing: Dean x Young Demon!Reader Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam - mentions of Crowley/Cass/Rowena

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: Set at the end of S12. Canon typical violence, age gap, young reader (but not underage), slow-ish burn, but eventually ALL the SMUT. Fighting. I’m sure there is more i should be including...

1. Heavy Metal / Dean 

Eight Days Later…

Sam’s bulky frame sailed a good ten feet and slammed, shoulder first, into the opposite crumbling brick wall. A stifled curse broke from his mouth on the air pushing out of his lungs. His next breath seemed to choke, instead of sustain life. The demon blade fell to the ground with a loud plink and skittered across asphalt. I couldn't see it. The alley was dark, orangey streetlights flickered on the Main Street. Music thumped from the bar, undulating bass and treble. An intelligible chorus drowning out the ambient grunts and groans of the sudden fight. 

My brother struggled against breathlessness as he pushed himself up the wall, fending off the snarling black-eyed biker dude as best he could without a weapon. Two other juiced up assholes advanced on me. Leather and chains from head to toe, a getup worthy of Judas Priest—Rob Halford would’ve been fucking proud.

The first guy had a wild colored Mohawk and wore a studded leather kutte with silver chains across the front and rows of unfriendly-looking spikes jutting off the shoulders. He rushed me and dropped back, as I grabbed the swinging chains and clocked him in the face with a hard left hook. I swung at the lanky asshole behind Mohawk. Strands of long, stringy blonde hair whipped as he dodged my fist and shoved me into the brick with a wave of the hand, immobilizing me. 

The second—the Glenn Tipton of the three demons—advanced to take his shot, while keeping me pinned against the wall. His clenched fist flailed, shaking as his fingers squeezed tighter. My chest began to constrict and my heart kicked into an erratic pace. I gasped, unable to breathe. The strain on my ribs I could take, but not the lack of oxygen. Then, my back met the bricks full force. For half a minute I floundered like a fish, unable to draw air into my lungs. 

“Not so tough now, eh, Winchester?” The Tipton-wannabe balled his fist a little tighter, glowy light began to seep out from between his clenched fingers. He wound up, drawing his arm back. “Can’t tell you how much I’m going to enjoy this, Dean-o.”

“Come at me, you ugly son of a bitch,” I bit out.

The demon’s jaw twitched, spittle oozing between his yellowed teeth and dripping from his lips. His glowing fist careened forward, into a wild hook, barreling toward my head.

I could take a hit. I’d take whatever this ugly asshole had and walk it off, and then come right back and gank his sorry ass. Then, I’d shove Mohawk’s head into the brick and kick the shit out of him, to give Sammy time to get the pig sticker and gank that other little bitch. I steeled myself for the impending blow...

But the hit never came.

The shaking fist stopped a millimeter away, a wisp from my stubbly jaw. He growled at me, jerking his hand, willing the limb to move, but was unable to follow through.

“I wouldn't, if I were you.” A female voice echoed through the filth.

Every one of us turned toward the sound. The Demon’s eyes yellowed and flicked to the space beside he and I.

A petite young woman stood absolutely still in the middle of the alleyway. The fabric of her gauzy white, almost knee-length dress floated around her on a gust of wind. Flawless makeup. Y/h/c hair coiled into an untamed cascade around her shoulders and back. There was something familiar about her doll-like face, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Just that I recognized something about it…

Sam swung, limply, as the third demon ignored her warning. He yanked my brother up by the button strip of his flannel, preparing to body slam him into the bricks again. The young woman raised a hand and snapped her fingers, splattering bloody little chunks of the burley biker dude across Sam and the disintegrating brick wall.

Without easing his grip, yellow eyes locked on red ones.

She stood a good 15-feet away, but I could see every detail of her delicate face. The red eyes faded back to a vivid y/e/c, sparking even in the dim light of the alley. If I weren’t already out of breath, she would have stolen it then… Holding that gaze for too long would be dangerous. I forced my eyes away from her and glanced at Sam, shooting my younger brother a questioning look—you okay?

Sam returned a slight nod, shifting his focus back to the young woman, and lumbering to his feet. He hugged the wall as he slowly made his way toward me, collecting the demon knife from the ground as he went.

“You again,” snarled the greasy Judas Priest reject.

The girl said nothing, only held his gaze.

“Remember who you’re dealing with you fatherless, half-breed mut.”

She cleared her throat and released a hard breath. “Name calling already? Color me not shocked.”

The demon didn't move, or maybe he couldn't. She seemed to hold him there, pinned by her gaze. I couldn't move either. Despite his struggle with her, he somehow managed to keep me restrained against the brick wall. The girl was strong. Energy radiated off her. I could feel the surge. Pure power. Lots of it…

“This fight has nothing to do with you,” he spat.

“I beg to differ.”

“You uppity bitch. Just don't know when to stop, do ya?” He turned his head to me. “He has it comin’.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

He growled and the roar of a thousand demonic voices reverberated off the dingy bricks around us—some kind of possessed monkey call. Streetlights flickered. Music from the bar skipped and stalled, and then continued on. But she didn't flinch, didn't retreat, or move a muscle. Not a twitch. Not a single hair out of place. Just calm. And, the calmness was terrifying in and of itself. No fear in her at all. Why should she be afraid? Heavy Metal over here must be low on the totem pole…

“You are disobeying a direct order. The boys are off limits to low-level, yeasty, pockmarked, death-tokens such as yourself.”

“Shakespearian,” I grunted.

Sam shot me an incredulous glance, which I translated into: dude, how the hell do you even know that?

“What?” I mouthed back. “I read.”

“Let him go.”

The demon gurgled, struggling to resist her hold. He garbled a “No.”

“Let. Him. Go.”

The light emanating from his clenched fist faded fast and his hand trembled violently. Black smoke began to seep from his body in soft waving tendrils. He wailed and roared, but she didn't stop.

A gentle tilt her head appeared to force more infernal smoke from the occupied body. The Tipton-wannabe fought against the pull, until a puff of black burst right through the middle of his chest.

“Demon control?” whispered Sam.

I lurched away from the wall as his hold finally released. Sam sidled up to me, an arm closing around my torso, keeping me on my feet for the moment. We both dropped back, to prepare for whatever came next.

“He can’t protect you anymore! You little bitch, this isn’t over.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“I’ll be coming for you,” the demon snarled. “You can’t run and you can’t hide. The Winchester’s can’t save you—I will find you and flay the skin from your bones.”

“I’m sure you’ll try, Belial.” The corner of her pouty mouth lifted into a humorless smile, glints of red in her eyes. “But today is not that day.”

A rush of black smoke poured from him, melting into a puddle on the ground. It reminded me of the way Sam could rip demons out of people with his psychic hoodoo. The ground beneath us shook and flared orange, like roasting coals in a fire pit, and then quickly died out.

Mohawk took a step back and smoked out of his meatsuit, while he still had the chance. The dead body dropped to the ground with a hard, unceremonious thud.

As the foul smoke cleared, three bodies lay on the ground. Sam and I and the girl stood in the alley, in a kind of standoff, unsure what to make of each other. She had taken on three demons with fear, a snap of her fingers, and a tilt of her fucking head…to save us from this yellow-eyed douche? Why?

“Who are you?” “What do you want?” Sam and I spoke in unison.

“Crowley?”

Neither of us said another word. Tightness returned to my chest, a heaviness that I couldn't quite explain had formed. She deserved to know—needed to know. I wasn't sure why, but I knew she did. And why did I have to be the one tell her about Crowley’s sacrifice in the alt-world to close the portal? Would she even believe that it happened that way?  As many times as I’d wished the King of Hell death, the way it had finally come was not as expected. It didn't feel how I thought it would either.

Her steely gaze landed on me, I felt it shift from me to my brother and back. Sam and I glanced at each other, and both of us turned our eyes toward the ground, avoiding answering her.

Sam usually took the lead in situations like this. Sam knew what to say and how to be compassionate with victims and the victim’s loved ones—even when they were monsters. But this time he didn't. Of all the times to keep his fucking trap shut… then he shot her the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes he could muster. I grumbled and shifted uncomfortably, gnawing at my bottom lip. Finally, bringing my gaze back to hers, I prepared to deliver some ‘sacrificed himself for the greater good, oh and bonus points for trapping Lucifer in another hellish dimension’ anti-hero-esque speech that I wasn't sure he deserved. Then, my eyes landed on her plush, glossy bottom lip…and it trembled, hard.

Words failed me. My mouth opened and closed more than once.

That was the only slip in her artfully arranged façade, and it was so fucking powerful that I couldn't tell her. The immediate urge to comfort the young woman welled up inside me, catching me off guard. After an extended moment of silence I realized that I didn't need to say a word. Because she knew…

Foreign emotions assaulted me, prickling across my skin and raising all the little hairs on my arms and neck. I felt a jumble of heat energy radiate off her. Each emotion swept over me, like a wave curling and breaking against the surf. It didn't seem to have the same effect on Sam and I wondered why? Demons had no empathy, no real emotion—what the hell was this? While she struggled to keep her composure, I resisted rushing toward her and pulling her into my arms. What the fuck? God. I resisted hard, willing my feet not to move. Not the first time I had felt this kind of unnatural urge with a chick. I knew it was something that should not be indulged, no matter how bad I wanted to go to her.

She must have known what I wanted to do, that certainly would’ve explained the awed look on her face as our eyes met.

“I’m sorry.” My brain ticked through other things to say, but nothing seemed appropriate or important.

“You always are,” she countered.

I couldn't bear to look at her anymore and cast my eyes away, tracing the cracks in the broken asphalt beneath my boots. It was our fault—my fault. Again. We couldn't stop it. We couldn't stop the Nephilim from being born. We couldn't kill it. Shit, we didn't even know what we were going to do with it now that he’d been born. We had nothing to fight Lucifer. We couldn't kill him. We couldn't find another way to close the portal before Crowley offed himself. Hell, we couldn't even save our own mother, after walking through hellfire to get her back from those English douchebags. Couldn't save Cass. We lost. Every loss is on us…again.

“No, Dean.” When I looked up she was standing in front of me, inches away. Every cell in my body felt her presence. Pure power. That explains why Crowley made her business his. My hands itched to touch her, hold her. “It’s not. It’s not your fault at all.”

Staring into those hypnotic y/e/c irises was a mistake, and I knew it as it was happening. The pull to her was overwhelming, like an invisible hand clenching the middle of my chest and drawing me toward her. I had felt all of this before… I didn't know who she was, or why she was important, but the instinct to protect her welled in the pit of my stomach and sat there like a boulder.

Who am I kidding? I can’t protect her. Everyone who dares to get close to me dies. No one with a brain would choose me as a protector, with such an obvious outcome? Why risk it? I’m not worth that risk. I would do my best for her, but in the end it wouldn't be enough, because it never was. I ruin everything I touch…

“Don’t do that,” she whispered. “I need you.”

Before I knew it, both my hands came up, fingers skimming up the length of her slim arms. Her eyes widened at the skin-to-skin contact, alarmed and almost fearful. Touching her was like touching a live wire, static electricity. She sucked in a quick, stilted breath and blinked away. Disappearing into nothing. My hands hung in the empty air, as if she had never been there. The loss of her presence affected me immediately, and physically; the boulder turned to a heavy ache, throbbing low in my gut. Emptiness. Emptiness that I was more than familiar with…it was deep, bone-deep, but also a strange comfort.

“What the hell?”

“I don't know,” replied Sam.

He’d been watching the exchange, silently, but I was sure my brother had already formed some kind of opinion. I glanced at him. “Since when are we off limits?”

“Since when is Belial a low-level demon?”

“What?”

“She called him Belial,” Sam explained. “If I remember correctly, Belial rose up with Lucifer during the rebellion. He was the first angel to actually fall in the fight against Michael and the other Heavenly angels. He’s—”

“Why do you even know that?”

Sam gave half a shrug. “He was in the lore. I read about him when I read up on Dagon. He’s the literal opposite of low-level. He is a Prince of Hell, Dean.”

“Prince of hair metal,” I grumbled under my breath.

“Dude. That demon just saved our ass’s…”

“Who is this chick and what’s her deal with Crowley? And why haven’t we seen her before, or at least heard about her? He was the king of running his fucking mouth—how could he not slip about his hot little sidechick? He would have bragged about having that kind of power at his disposal.” The urge to protect her stayed with me. Crowley and I had more in common that I cared to admit, and I began to wonder if he had felt the same way in her presence. Maybe we didn't know about her because that assclown was protecting her? God. Does she need protection? Why and from who? Obviously from this Belial douche… but now that Crowley is gone who will do the job? On the other hand— “Did you see what she did? She pulled that demon—a Prince of Hell—with a tilt of her goddamn head, Sam. With your psychic hoodoo, all hopped up on demon blood, on your best day, you couldn't swing that. That was,” I bit back ‘awesome’ and ignored the incredulous look my brother shot at me. Instead shaking my head, as if that would somehow communicate the rest of my thoughts to him.

“Dude, you okay?”

...

[peetabreadgirl]

Writer’s Block 4.237

I intended to get this churned out in little blocks and post every 2k words. This is actually 3k, so consider the extra 1,000 words my apology. It seems even a little bit takes two weeks these days! But it’s getting closer. This is all cheese and fluff. And unedited! Please don’t point out my mistakes :) lol. I will crawl into a hole and die! 4.1 is here and you can find the first 3 here. 

I’m warm, and comfortable. And flat on my stomach with my face in the mattress. The sun is peeking through the tiny slits in the blinds over my bed. There’s a soft snore next to me and I open one eye, letting a slow smile take over my face. Blonde bed hair sticks up from beneath arms as Peeta lays face down with his head buried in a pillow, elbows jutting out from underneath it. I normally enjoy sleeping alone, but that’s obviously because I have no idea what I’m missing.

 Oddly, I’m not alarmed in the slightest by his presence on my couch - bed. I’m also not ready to remove myself from this scenario, so I roll towards him and lift his arm, burrowing into him. He releases a soft groan and repositions himself on his side so we fit together better, then tightens his hold on me. I don’t want to disturb our peace, so I say nothing. Neither does he.

 I must fall back asleep because I’m jolted awake by a surprised Peeta sitting straight up, and I almost tumble off the side of the bed and onto the floor. He grabs my waist and when we lock eyes my stomach falls. His eyes are wide and wild, like he doesn’t know where he is. I hope it’s not regret I see there.

“Wh-what time is it?” he asks, pushing his hair back with his hands before glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Shit,” he mutters, climbing from the bed and grabbing his things. I sit up slowly, unsure of what I should say. I was content just moments ago, but now I’m beginning to wish he hadn’t stayed last night, even though we did nothing but sleep.

 “Can I use your bathroom real quick?” he asks. I nod and point, unable to find my voice even for such a simple word as ‘yes’.

 While he’s in the restroom I quickly plait my hair into a side braid, then start a cup of coffee in a to-go cup. Moments later he emerges from the small space, hair tidier-looking, eyes less groggy. His clothes are rumpled but he’s still handsome as ever. We stand still, staring at each other awkwardly, both of us clearly struggling for something to say.

 “I hope you don’t mind. I, um, borrowed some toothpaste,” he says first.

 “Uh, no. No that’s fine,” I tell him. The coffee maker gurgles and spits behind me, signaling that it’s finished. As I look at it I get an idea to give it to him, hoping it might erase some of this weirdness between us. Surely he could use a pick me up, and I have time to make another cup anyway. I reach for it and turn back towards him, extending my meager offering. If anyone would have told me that my senior year of college I’d fall for Peeta Mellark and be begging the universe not to let things get strange between us, I would have laughed in their face. And then spit on their shoes. But here I am.

 “Coffee?” I meet his eyes every few seconds, relieved when an easy smile lifts his lips. Our fingers brush when he accepts it, but instead of retreating he steps closer to me.

 “Thank you.” My breathing halts as he reaches up and runs his fingers over my hair, down my braid that curls around my neck and ends just above my left breast. He leans in slowly and I’m rooted in place as he brushes his lips across mine. It’s the faintest touch, but the desire it flares inside me is unmistakable. “I’ll see you in class?” His whisper tingles against my lips.

 My senses are so skewed I can barely afford him a nod. He lays his forehead against mine and sighs. “If I didn’t have class in ten minutes…” he trails off, leaving me guessing as to how he would have finished that sentence. I want to ask him, but before I can he kisses me. Just a press of lips together, nothing that should feel as intriguing as it does. It’s innocent and pure, yet the feeling it elicits in me is anything but.

 “See you soon,” he says, releasing me. And then he’s closing my door with a soft click, leaving me alone. Something I used to appreciate but at the moment I have a distinct disdain for.

 I collapse back on the bed and groan into the emptiness. When I roll over I can smell him on my pillow. If I wrap an arm around it, close my eyes I can almost pretend it’s him. Almost. If it weren’t for the downy fluff where Peeta is solid, and the cooling material no substitute for the warmth he provides.

 I have two hours until my first class so instead of wishing he would come back, which will do nothing but make my day drag on, I pull out my laptop and begin to write. The words are sweeter than I’ve managed before, flowing straight from the experience I’ve recently had. There’s nothing sexual and everything sensual about the scene with Julia and Adam as they fall asleep together. The affection he shows is comforting to her and the feelings surrounding this part of the story are pulling her into a game she’s never played before. A game with rules she’s not familiar with. I feel her butterflies as acutely as if we are sharing the same stomach, and for the first time, I’m excited to see what happens with these two.

 I slip into class a little late, which is still early compared to most people’s definition of being on time. The room is already filling up with students. I try not to find Peeta with my eyes  but it’s futile. He’s there, planted in the seat next to mine with his laptop already out and his bag on the desk I always sit at, saving my place.

 His smile lights up the room as I near and he reaches for his bag so I can sit down.

 “Hi,” I say, proud that I spoke first. Or that I was able to speak at all with him looking at me like that. The sunshine pouring out of him that once caused me misery now beckons me like a seedling breaking the Earth’s surface for the first time, desperately in need of vitamin D.

 “Hey.”

 We share a few glances at each other and an awkward smile, or at least mine feels awkward. Peeta looks like he could be a smile model. Straight white teeth, pink lips and a dimple that punctuates the joviality he always seems to exude. But before we can have any kind of conversation Effie greets the class and begins the day’s lecture.

 Our laptops are open and my fingers are flying across the keyboard, trying to keep up with Effie’s speaking pace. when the tab of my open story doc starts blinking. Curious, I switch screens and see a message from Peeta in the chat box.

 This is shaping up really nice. ;)

 A quick glance at his screen shows he’s taking notes as well, but I can see several open tabs there. He must have been reading while I was taking notes. I reply ‘thanks’ and send it, staring at the lonely word that conveys very little of what I’m feeling. I may be the one putting the words down, but he’s been a fundamental part of the tone and the direction, not to mention some of the experience I’ve been given. Just thinking about it warms my cheeks, so I touch them with cool hands, stopping short of fanning myself lest Peeta look over and read my face for the open book it seems to be.

 I’m about to go back to writing notes when three dots begin to dance in the corner of the chat, signaling Peeta typing.

 What are you doing tonight? is the message he sends through. I reply that I’m going to write the date scene.

 P - I have plans to help with that…

 K - Don’t you have to work on your art project?

 P - It can wait a few hours.

 It warms me to know that he’s not just leaving me to write the rest of our project, that he cares enough to put his other project on hold, even if I am willing to finish it on my own.

 K - Cool. Your place or mine?

 P - We’ll start at your place. ;) I’ll be there at 6.

 His icon closes out and he’s gone, leaving me to wonder what he’s planning. Start at my place?

 I spend the rest of class unable to pay attention to the lecture, and more than a little annoyed that Peeta can have that effect on me. What is happening? I used to be so focused on school and my goals. Now all my senses seem to be sharpened in his direction.

 We’re finally dismissed and I gather my things, ignoring Peeta as he packs up beside me. I’m determined to get my wandering mind and eyes back under control.

 “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks.

 “Sure,” I answer. Even though I’m avoiding his gaze I can feel the warm smile radiating from him.

 Don’t look.

 I can see his jean-covered legs out of the corner of my eye. As I’m bent over my backpack I realize I’m eye level with his… that. A barrage of words describing it come to mind thanks to my recent project research. I’m glad for my embarrassment, even though he can’t read my thoughts - I hope - because now nothing can make me look him in the eyes. Though I’m no less distracted than if I were looking at him.

 I throw my pack over my shoulder and start to walk towards the exit. I can feel Peeta behind me, his hand hovering at my lower back, but he doesn’t touch me. His scent wraps around me as we move with the crowd. It’s mildly sweet and extremely intoxicating. At one point, the students in front of me stop abruptly, bottlenecked into the doorway and Peeta is so close he bumps into me, throwing me off balance. But his arms are there to steady me, coiling around my waist and he doesn’t let go. It reminds me of last night and this morning, and I’m tempted to lay my head back on his shoulder, but the crowd surges forward again and Peeta’s arms fall away. I’m wondering how I can get us back into a crowded area when he stops me.

 “I’m this way,” he says, angling his head in the direction opposite of my next class.

 “Okay. Bye, Peeta.” It’s a lame reply, but it’s all I’ve got. Everything he does or says catches me off guard. I should be getting used to it by now. Able to formulate a response in the face of utter charm and those beguiling grins of his. I can’t tell if the blinders fell away when our mutual animosity faded, or if they’ve just been replaced by rose colored goggles, but I know I’ve never looked at Peeta Mellark this way in the entire time I’ve known him.

 He smiles again and waves, then takes off. I glance at my watch and sigh as I mentally calculate the time between now and 6:00 PM. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

  I’m lounging in my room doing some literary research for the sex scene while I wait for Peeta to come over. I changed from jeans to yoga pants back to jeans before I made myself stop and do something that would actually help our story along. I shouldn’t care what he or anyone else thinks of how I look. I never have before.

 The kissing is turning to petting when a knock startles me and I shove the trashy novel underneath my pillow and hop from the bed like I’ve been caught. It take a few seconds for my breath to even out, but then I swing open the door to see Peeta on the other side holding a handful of wildflowers and the slow excitement that was building in me moments ago while reading the sensual words goes to warp speed. He’s so handsome it physically hurts. The red checkered button down he’s wearing is a stark, but beautiful contrast to his blue eyes and his dark wash jeans mold to his thighs perfectly.

 “For you,” he says, holding out the flowers. I stare at them too long without taking them and he pulls them back. “You don’t like them?”

 I realize my mistake too late, but I reach for them anyway. “No, that’s not it. I just, no one has ever brought me flowers before.” My voice trails off at the end with embarrassment. The girls in high school used to get them on Valentine’s and birthdays. I always rolled my eyes and told myself it was frivolous and stupid, but the way my stomach is dipping and soaring is a study in contrast to those beliefs.

 “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” I tell him, mostly because an awkward silence has fallen between us.

 “I wanted to,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Pretty girls should be given flowers.” He blushes and it seems as contagious as if he’d yawned. I feel my own heating up.

 “Are you coming in?” I ask and stand aside. He stays put and shakes his head.

 “No can do. I’ve got a hot date.” My bottom jaw is suddenly so heavy I can’t stop it from dropping open and my gut seizes up with dread. A date? He got a date since mid-morning when he promised to help me with our story?

 “Oh,” is all I can croak out. I’m frozen. I want to slam the door in his face and throw myself on the bed - couch! - but my appendages don’t seem capable of receiving communication from my brain right now.

 “Well, okay,” I force out before I burst into tears as it dawns on me that I’ve been fooled by my nemesis. A flash of anger hits me like lightning, and I know I won’t be able to stand being in his presence. Ever again. “You know, I bet I can finish up this story while you concentrate on art. No need for us to meet up again.” Like a horror movie set in a cemetery, the bitterness I thought I’d buried suddenly rises from the dead and before I can stop myself I bite out, “Tell your date I say hello.”

 The door is almost closed when a booted foot wedges between it and the frame. I’m growing agitated and swing it back open growling “What?” at him.

 He has the nerve to smile. That cocky, lopsided smile that makes his eyes twinkle and forms a stupid dimple in his left cheek. A dimple I feel like poking hard with my finger. I begin smacking the weeds against my thigh and envision the satisfaction I’ll feel when I drop them into the wastebasket.

 “Hello.”

 “You mean goodbye?” I say, growing more impatient for his absence. His grin widens and he  fucking laughs! I should probably tell him to leave because I’m two seconds from losing all self control and he has no idea the danger he’s in.

 “You said to tell my date ‘hello’, so I did.”

 Wait, what? His eyes search my face and he clamps his lips together, which still turn up in a grin despite his efforts.

 “You’re my date, Katniss,” he explains, clearly clued into my confusion by the look I’m wearing. “And if I weren’t convinced that you’d deck me right now, I’d kiss that scowl off your face.” His pulls his hands out of his pockets and pushed his sleeves up, revealing his forearms. Have they always been so muscular? And why am I so easily distracted by that?

 “We’re going on a…”

 “Date,” he finishes for me. “Come on, I’m starved.” He winks and extends a hand to me, which is like a magnet for my own as it joins his without hesitation. His touch is like a balm that soothes away the anxiety of the last few minutes and I instantly feel like I can breathe again.

 I look at the flowers in my hand, a little less full than they were when he handed them to me, but still pretty enough to salvage, and tell him to wait before he can pull me out of the apartment. My hand screams it’s disapproval as he releases me and I scurry to set the flowers in a plastic cup I use to rinse my mouth when I brush my teeth, then grab the key to my room. My legs can’t seem to carry me back to his side fast enough. I only hope I don’t seem as anxious as I feel.

I can’t help it, though. Peeta Mellark is taking me on my first date.

[bulletandsophia]

The Ballerina

Part 1 | Read the series on AO3

The leaves have started to unfold from their branches.

Some already are a proud dark green, some still in between the shades of yellow green and olive, small and still about to unruffle, but in abundance that their lushness is overwhelming—and Sansa, still contentedly lying on her bed, could see from her bedroom window how the leaves dance with the morning sunlight. The sky is also starting to color from its pale grey to some hints of pink and yellow. Slightly, just when the leaves and the branches sway to the right, she could see the neighboring brick buildings and their wrought iron fences and staircases. The street below is also still quiet and she knows that if she listens closely, she could maybe even hear a bird chirping—truly a rare treat for someone living in the city.

But the soon chaos later in the day, and most especially during the night, cannot disperse mornings like this when Sansa feels a certain kind of euphoria in the knowledge that perhaps, she’s the first to wake and the rest of the world still sleeps.

It’s a tad even more special when the morning does not compel her to hurry for any errands or ballet practice; like today, where time feels nonexistent and when the morning weather is just right—not too cold nor too hot—just enough for her to snuggle the blanket without the discomfort.

Sansa could not deny though, as she turns her head from the window and back to the bed, that this morning in particular is all the more her favorite simply because there is an arm wrapped around her waist and it is currently trying to pull her closer as if they are not intertwined at all.

She chuckles as she lets the arm do so, turning so she could face him.

Jon Snow is a sleeper, she realizes. She studies him, this figure who is so deep in his slumber he still must be dreaming. A stray curl falls down on his cheek and Sansa softly entangles her finger and tucks it away, revealing more of his handsome features which she still quite can’t get enough of.

She has not seen him for a week because of the ballet company’s tour and they will only have this weekend too before she has to go on another long-week leg of performances out of town.

He made it all worth it last night though, Sansa reminds herself (and blushing at the thought). She was not even ten steps away from the touring bus when he pulls her to him and almost dragged her to the next block, all serious and brooding, and without a single word spoken.

But when they reached the alleyway, Jon Snow let all his thoughts known not through his words but with another certain kind of language only his lips devouring hers could utter. Sansa was drowning on it.

“I missed you.”, he whispered. She was still on a trance that he laughs at her silence, gently nudging her nose with his.

“You cannot just kiss a girl on an alleyway, Jon.”, she teased. “What would the people say?”

“Not as bad as what your mother would.”

She playfully elbowed him but the rest of yesterday remained a blur the moment they got to her apartment and Jon more than just showed her how much he missed her.

He made her hear it, feel it, and bask in the raw and glorious ecstasy of him holding her hand, face buried on her neck, as they both reached the pure bliss that left them panting on her bed.

“I missed you,” he repeated as he lifted himself up and looked at her. “I missed you, I missed you.“

He said it so again just when she felt her eyes succumb to lethargy.

He’s not much of a talker, her Jon Snow. That’s why Sansa treasures the moments he lets his guard down. Last night was an addition to the still small but hopefully, growing instances Jon fully allows her in his head space, in his mindset.

Some of her friends from the company think him odd—too quiet and moody, as if he is carrying the burdens of the earth on his shoulders. Sansa can’t help but think of the same when they first met, but as soon as they start to spend time together, when he visited her backstage with some blue roses and a lopsided smile, when he took her to the empty square one night to spend a freezing hour in the gazebo just to look at a northern star, when he took her to the patisserie for some lemon cakes, or when he spent an entire afternoon with her choosing the right material for a dress she was trying to make—she realizes that Jon Snow might look like he is carrying the weight of the world but when he looks at her, it makes her feel like she is his world.

It does not make sense sometimes, Sansa admits. This unexplained pull she has towards him and his undeniable goodness to her, the way he just gives and gives and gives—all without asking for anything in return.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she silently asks now. Jon does not stir despite her hand running softly against his cheek. “Why do you love me so?”

She was the first who said the words though. I love you.

It was after one of her performances and his third consecutive visit at the theater that week. And with the fresh blue roses placed on her vanity table, again, Sansa cannot take it anymore. So, when he finally reached her dressing room as soon as the show ended, she just said it, not even waiting for the door to close.

I love you.

The look on his face betrayed the shock she feared but the deep exhale he made as he strode towards her, grabbed her by the waist, and kissed her senseless let her know that perhaps, he loves her too, if not even more.  

Then he said it the first time when they were at a museum a few months after.

He has always been in love with history and while Sansa was not, she appreciates any kind of artistry her eyes lay upon. They were in front of a large painting. A castle from some ancient period with snow falling it made the entire thing almost white. There was a lone bird that flew in the sky and Jon was staring at it in wonder.

She joined him, trying to decipher what he was trying to make of the painting when just out of the blue, he took her hand, nudged her lightly, and simply whispered as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

I love you.

Sansa was disheartened when she returned to the museum a couple of weeks later just to be informed that the painting was moved back to its home in the north.

Despite their exchanged admissions for each other, despite her body easily responding to his every action, despite his words albeit few and yet loving and sincere, Jon remains to be a mystery she tries to unravel every single day. And yet in contrast, like a light to his peculiar darkness, she remains to feel as if she is the miracle that brought him to life. For reasons unknown, especially on days he thinks she does not notice (but she does) and he gazes at her with such longing, Sansa feels that the few feet of distance between them is already making him ache; that perhaps, what he most wanted in the world is just to be by her side.

So, she can only imagine the toll the ballet tour is taking on him.

He is not possessive but Jon is guarded and careful as if she is glass, as if she will disappear in any moment. To understand this silent passion, she once tried to ask him about his life before her and of his family. But she only received a shrug, a word spoken so neutral he might have forgotten he had one.

Gone, was all that he said. They did not speak of it since.

Sansa sighs, tugging the blanket higher. This time Jon moves, pulling her closer to him again and resting his head on hers.

“Are you awake?” she whispers.

He grunts and Sansa laughs at that.

“It’s morning.” she continues.

He doesn’t respond.

“I want to make the most of this weekend.” Sansa confesses, now looking up at Jon’s sleeping figure. “You know I have to leave again come next week.”

He doesn’t respond soon enough but when her eyes start to feel bleary again with sleep, she hears him faintly say,

“I know.”

“I don’t want to go.” she adds now, realizing the slight dread of their parting. “I just want this weekend to last and last and last.”

She looks up and sees Jon finally awake, mindlessly staring at the open window, thoughts so far away.

Sansa stares back on the skin on his neck, seeing some of the small scars she has yet to know the story, and that certain tug is back on her chest because another week without Jon is far too long.

“It’s too much to ask, I guess, to have an eternity with you on this bed.” she tries to joke. “But sometimes I feel that that in itself is not even enough when it comes to you.”

She feels him kiss the top of her head and she snuggles closer, closing her eyes and allowing herself that small victory of feeling his warm skin against her—a memory she will keep with her for the rest of her tour.

“I just want time to stop right in this moment.” Sansa adds. “With your arms around me during sunrise, all warm and welcoming… when I feel your breath on my skin and I smell your woodsy cologne…”

She feels his chest vibrate with laughter.

Sansa looks up again, with delight in her eyes, with softness she only offers for him. He gazes back with her favorite lopsided smile.

Faintly she asks, “How wonderful would that be, Jon Snow? To be stuck in time with me?”

She almost feels his heart break in that instant and the curious frown he makes also strike her heart to break just a little. She wants to cry for some reason, seeing him suffer an unknown pain he never wants to share with her, quietly enduring whatever it is on his own. But before she can even comprehend the throbbing on her chest, he rests his forehead on hers and whispers ever so lightly,

“Then it is a dream come true, Sansa, to have a life with you that sees no end.”

Sansa realizes that she may not be his first, nor possibly his last love, but for what it is worth, with the way he holds on to her, with the way his lips ardently consumes hers, with her leg hitching up to his waist, with his hand encouraging her to do so, with the sunlight trespassing the moment, with their breaths heavy and yet fast, with sweet words whispered in between, with Jon muttering her name like a prayer, with her clinging unto him so she can share whatever pain—Sansa knows that this moment is hers.

Hers and hers alone.

It might not mean much to the now waking city, but to her, it is a moment forever etched in the continuum; a moment looped and wired into her being that maybe even in another lifetime, she will remember it, remember him—if such a thing is even real.

But no matter.

The world may forget, but Sansa knows, deep in the corners of her heart, that she won’t.

She will and never could forget Jon Snow.

Part 1 | Read the series on AO3