#they’re in a shed out back with an enchanted lock on it

[shallowseeker]

cas and dean retired but they live in a disaster trailer with a couch in the front yard and no trespassing signs sprinkled around plus one “beware of dog”

the inside is cute tho and the porch out back is fixed up cute w a fire pit and iron-cast chairs, two raised garden boxes, homemade ax- throwing station next to firewood, and a shooting range made up of old mtn dew cans and bottles

it’s only welcoming to those who know them

[scribbling-dragon]

Supply Run

Summary:

Their supplies are slowly dwindling with the increased number of members. 

A supply run is one way to solve this.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(2,477 words)

He rummages through another chest, finding that he has to dig deeper into it to reach any of the supplies stacked neatly along the bottom. The ones he does manage to pull out are crumbling in his hands, falling apart due to lack of use and how old they are.

He grimaces at the crumbling and spider-webbed sticks he’s currently clutching, before dropping them back into the bottom of the chest and standing, allowing the lid of it to slam closed.

His boots are loud against the floor as he walks, and he’s sure Scott’s already heard him before he actually enters the kitchen. He remains turned around anyway, messing around with something on the stove, wings shifting against his back as he moves, reaching out for something else.

“Did you need something?” He asks, not turning away from what he’s working on.

“Not urgently.” He sidles up beside him, watching as he stirs something in a pot, steam rising off of it as he hops up onto the counter. Scott gives him an irritated look, but he doesn't make a move to dislodge him from his seat. “Most of our supplies are crumbling and falling apart though, so we’ll need to get some more stuff eventually.”

Scott nods a little, humming as he flicks the heat on the stove down, setting the spoon against the side of the pot. “What kind of supplies?” He asks.

“Just the basic ones.” He shrugs. “Wood, stone, a few basic ores. Nothing really rare.”

“Things that could be easily sorted in an afternoon then?” Scott glances out the window, and he follows his gaze, looking out at the mid-morning forest around them. The shadows on the ground are short as the sun hovers overhead, but they’ll soon grow long, stretching across the floor and towards their house as the sun begins to set again.

“Pretty much.” He kicks his legs back and forth a little, gripping the side a little. “Wanna come with me?”

“You asking me on a date?” Scott grins at him, somehow still at eye level despite how high up he’s sat. “If you are it’s not working very well.”

“It’s not a date.” He scoffs. “Asking you to come chop down trees with me is not very romantic at all. If I wanted to do something romantic it would be something like- like,” he looks around a little, “Like a romantic dinner or something.”

“Mhm.” Scott stirs the thing in the pan once more, before flicking the heat off with one fluid movement. “I’ll come with you, don't worry. I was only teasing.” Scott smiles back at him. “Let me just put this away and I’ll be with you.”

He hops down off the side, brushing his hands down his trousers a little. “I’ll go grab a few of our axes then.”

“They're in the-” Scott begins.

“I know where they are!” He calls back, already halfway down the small hallway, pushing open their back door and heading towards the small shed built into the back of the house. He pulls the door open, wincing a little as it squeaks, the wood wobbling on its hinges a little as he peers inside. The inside is dusty and dark, but he can easily spot the glimmering of their enchanted axes, even in the gloom. He leans forward, more than a little unwilling to step inside and get covered in cobwebs, instead opting to grab the handles and pull them off the wall.

He grabs the one he knows is Scott’s favourite, slinging the other over his shoulder and marching back inside, making sure to lock the door behind him this time. He leaves the key on its hook, and it's still jangling by the time he reaches the front door, Scott already waiting for him.

“Aw.” Scott coos. “You got my favourite axe for me.”

“I know it’s your favourite. That’s why I got it.” He allows Scott to take it from him, weighing it in his hands as he looks down at it with an odd amount of fondness for an axe.

“Aren't you sweet.” Scott looks back up at him, that same look of fondness on his face. He can’t help but smile back at him as he opens the door, both of them calling out a short goodbye to Pearl as they exit the house. He doesn't hear Pearl respond, but he assumes she does, closing the door behind himself and hurrying to catch up with Scott.

Scott holds the gate open for him as they leave, and they both brush past the small bed of flowers, the red poppies dancing in the breeze as they turn their backs towards the blood stained blooms.

The silence is comfortable as they walk through the forest, Scott slipping his hand into his own after a few moments, warm fingers against his own. He swings it back and forth a little as they walk, almost absently, but he doesn't miss the way Scott smiles a little at him, barely tilting his head in his direction as he does so.

They exit the forest, which seems a little counter-productive if they're looking for wood. They stop just on the edge of it. “What kind of wood are we looking for today, then?” He asks, still swinging his and Scott’s hands back and forth a little.

“Dark oak? It’s my favourite, and the sturdiest out of all of them.” Scott replies, beginning to tug him in one direction.

“They're all the same amount of sturdiness.” He protests, even as he allows himself to be pulled in the direction that Scott chooses.

“We’ve had this argument hundreds of times before, and I’ll win it again.”

“You've never won any of those arguments, I doubt they even count as arguments, they're more like a- a heated debate than anything else.” He almost trips over an especially large tree root, and only manages to not faceplant on the floor by Scott dragging him back up by the arm, holding him there for a few moments as he recovers, regaining his balance.

“I've won all of them.” Scott leans a little closer to his face, releasing his arm from his grip. “I'm just too nice to point it out.” He presses a small kiss to his cheek, before pulling away, hand slipping back into his own as he pulls them both back onto the path again.

He almost stumbles and falls again, brain working to try and catch up with what just happened. “What?” He manages, glancing downwards, towards his feet and focusing on not tripping again.

Scott simply squeezes his hand once, sending him a small grin, before continuing to pull him onwards.

It’s only once they've passed the empty plinth designed for the enchantment table, feet landing on a familiar path, that he realises where they're heading. He continues to follow Scott, feet kicking dust up around him in a way that he’s almost certain he’s done a million times before.

The small dips and inconsistencies in the dirt are the same, but still he remains quiet, following after Scott, lagging behind enough that Scott has to pull him along slightly as they walk, hands still joined.

He’s sure Scott has noticed his feet beginning to drag, the way he walks a little behind him, not enough to be properly noticeable, but Scott’s always been observant. He doesn't say anything, and he’s glad he doesn't, as he’s not really sure how he could explain the mounting fear he feels as the walls of the Southlands slowly begin to come into view, towers rising above the thick canopy, cobblestone spires bursting through the leaves.

“Here seems like a good spot.” Scott pulls him into the cover of the trees, the two of them brushing aside a few metres of undergrowth before they reach the base of a tree. Scott drops his hand, and he pulls it back to his chest, a slow feeling of cold beginning to wash over him. He can’t see the towers any more, can’t see the walls that loom in the distance, just beyond that tree over there. 

Theoretically, that should make him feel better, the lack of the walls or towers in his vision should reassure him. It doesn't, and he can't help but glance over his shoulder as he retrieves his axe, burying the head of it into the tree with one jerky motion, Scott doing the same just to the left of him.

He yanks it out of the tree with a shower of splinters, the small pieces of wood falling to the ground around his feet, in a small, rather wonky, semi-circle. The branches above his head shake a little bit as he hacks into the trunk again, pulling it out with more force this time, more fragments of wood gathering around his feet.

He hears a twig snap behind him, and he startles, yanking his axe out of the tree and spinning around, holding it out in front of him, as though it would defend him in any way. He feels Scott’s eyes lad on his back, and he turns to meet his eyes.

“You alright there?” He asks, head slightly tilted as he looks at him, axe hanging loosely at his side, in a grip so lax that it looks as though it could slip from his hand at any moment.

“Yeah,” his voice comes out slightly shaky as he nods, turning back to the tree he was hacking at, “Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry.” He lets out a small laugh, grimacing a little to himself at how pained it sounds. Scott hums, and it sounds doubtful - he wouldn't have believed himself either there - but he turns back to his tree as well, and they continue in silence from there on.

He’s about halfway through the tree trunk - seriously who gave these trees permission to be so thick - when he glances up, wondering how far the tree has tilted so far. He flinches back with a small shout, almost dropping his axe, as he meets a pair of eyes staring back at him.

They're a deep brown, and they stare into his soul in a way that makes him feel deeply known. It doesn't take much to guess who it is, the bright red jumper being a massive indicator. Scott’s at his side in a few seconds, staring up at the branch Grian’s perched himself on.

“I did wonder how long it was going to take for you to notice me.” Grian grins a little, and he shivers a little at how odd it looks, slightly too sharp, just a little too wide as he stares down at them. “I did think it would take you a bit longer, but, oh well.” Grian shrugs a little, almost seeming to melt off the branch, landing on the ground just in front of them.

They both take a step back, and he grips his axe a little tighter. Grian may not be red, not yet at least, but he’s just as volatile as one, easily provoked and quick to jump to violence and carnage.

Grian’s eyes flicker a little with amusement as he takes a step closer. “Oh come on, I'm not going to hurt you.” He presses his hands to his chest. “I'm still a yellow. You don't have to worry...not yet, at least.”

“We all know you're a red at heart.” Scott challenges, raising his axe towards him, pointing it at him in an obvious threat. Grian pushes it aside, shaking his head a little as he does so, looking almost disappointed.

“Careful there, Scott, if anyone saw you doing that, they might almost think you're the boogey, that you've got the curse.” Grian grins a little. “And Jimmy,” he looks towards him, “Really? Going back to Scott, again? I thought we had something.”

“You exiled me.”

“Only after your self-imposed exile.” Grian frowns a little. “We could have been all together again, Southlands reunited.”

“We both know that won’t last.” He sighs. “All it takes is one kill, just one, and it all falls apart from the inside. Your walls might be tall, might be too thick to break through, but they can always be broken from the inside.”

“Been working on your poetry?” Grian teases a little. “You're getting better, that’s for sure.”

“Hey.” Scott steps forward again, jabbing his axe at Grian. “Back off.”

He seems to consider it for a moment, head tilted at an angle. “Nah.” He decides. “I don't think I will, this is our land after all. You're the ones trespassing.” He pushes Scott’s axe back towards his chest. “Finish the trees you're working on and leave. Don't push it.”

He turns, and he’s gone, red disappearing seamlessly into the darkness between the trees. He swallows, mouth feeling dry as he watches him disappear. He’s sure he’s still there, still watching- always watching.

They finish cutting the trees down quickly, gathering as many logs as they can carry between the two of them before they retreat, both of them stumbling back onto the path and half-running home.

They can’t hold hands when their arms are full, but he makes sure to stay at Scott’s side, pressed up against him, even when they've re-entered the forest around their home. The shadows stretch long over the ground, sun setting steadily behind them.

He watches them worriedly, fearing that any moment they would twist into Grian, both of them unable to do anything but watch as he emerges from the shadows, that same weight of watching-staring on their shoulders again, weighing them down.

The weight lifts from his shoulders a little as they make their way through the gate, Scott kicking it firmly shut behind them after they've entered. They dump the logs in the small log shed, leaving the actual refinery of it for later.

He grabs onto Scott’s hand as they turn away from the small log store, gripping it tightly and looking up at him. Scott bumps his wing against his shoulder with a small rattling of chains, and he’s sure if they weren't bound he’d be curling a wing around him right now.

Scott locks the door behind them, and the slow turning of the key in the lock, the small sound accompanying it, that small thing lifts the last of the weight off of his shoulders, brushing the eyes on his back away with one simple motion.

Scott draws him into a hug, and he allows himself to be buried in it, breathing in the soft smell that is Scott, resting his ear above his heart, listening as it beats a steady rhythm beside him, a reassuring constant.

“Can we go to a birch forest next time?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Scott laughs a little, tightening his arms around him, “Yeah, we can.”

[smutty-skyrim]

Fancy Soaps || Farkas x Reader || NSFW

Pairing: Farkas x Fem!Reader

Words: 3193

Wandering the geysers and springs of Eastmarch, your feet are blistered and your legs ache. You've been traveling for weeks. You stopped in Whiterun for only a day before setting out on your next mission. Life is restless as Harbinger of the Companions. It gives you purpose and you take pride in your position, but there are days when you'd rather be sprawled across your bed in Breezehome letting Lydia deal with your troubles.

The redeeming part of it all is Farkas.

The two of you have been a team for months. It has become an unspoken rule that when one of you takes a job, the other will be along to help. In this time, Farkas has become your closest friend.

There are few boundaries left between the two of you. Your comfort grew quickly, and after an assassination attempt while you were getting changed the two of you decided to stick closer to each other's sides. You began bathing together - never looking at each other, but always in close proximity. If anything happened, you'd be right there.

It began in dead silence - washing yourselves with an uneasy tension hanging in the air. After a few times, it began to change. You'd find yourselves chatting and laughing like any other time. When you inevitably caught glimpses of each other's bodies, your faces would flush but nothing would feel amiss.

These days, you're comfortable being naked around each other. You're used to the sight of his body, even if it makes your mind wander and a heat brew between your legs. You're well acquainted with his broad chest and the dark hair that hides pale scars. You're familiar with the contours of his muscles - his defined abs and chiseled legs. And you'd say you're unbothered by his toned ass and perfect cock but that would, of course, be an absolute fucking lie.

You found a section of land and hot springs hidden away from the others. Obscured by a spattering of barely-leaved trees and rocky outcroppings, it's the perfect place for you and Farkas to set up camp and grab a bath. He's already shedding his armor. You're digging in your bag for a collection of very special items.

When you were last in Solitude you stopped by a beauty store. It sold cosmetics, lotions, soaps and shampoos - all beautifully scented, and many crafted with magical properties. You couldn't walk away from a chance to pamper yourself on the road and scooped up the most tempting products. This seems like the perfect time to put them to use.

You strip, leaving your clothes and armor in a heap by your bag. You take the bottles and eagerly carry them with you, along with a tankard to aid with washing. The dirt is rough on your bare feet but you pay it little mind.

Farkas is reclining in the steaming blue-green water, staring out at the horizon. The first hints of twilight linger at the edge of the sky, peeking between the rolling mountains.

You sit at the water's edge and dip in your toes. The heat from the water eases the lingering pain.

"Hey, Farkas... Remember that soap shop?" You ask, struggling to choke back an impish tone.

"I try not to," He replies with a gruff chuckle.

"That's the one." You smile. "What would you say if I picked up a couple things?"

"You didn't..."

"Guilty."

"Why?"

"Easy. I thought we deserved a chance to pamper ourselves." You reply.

"Don't see much of a need to." He shrugs. "Water's always treated me just fine. Some soap when I need it."

You fight a grimace. "A deep clean isn't gonna hurt you."

He glances upwards and eyes the collection of items suspiciously.

"Are they enchanted?" Farkas asks.

"Sorta." You smile, picking up the shampoo you bought for him. "This one smells like evergreens. It's said to 'enhance physical relaxation'. And we've got a bottle of body wash to split. Elves ear, mint and honey. It's supposed to remedy wounds, soften skin, and leave you feeling uh..." You glance at the fine print handwritten on the label. "Wonderfully Revitalized."

He stifles a laugh. There's a sparkle in his pale eyes when he smiles. "I think I'm all set."

Your lips twist into a pout. You're deflating, but you're not willing to give up yet.

"Just let me wash your hair. If you're not relaxed by the end of it, I won't make you suffer though this ever again." You say, popping open the bottle and holding it out for him to sniff.

He takes a whiff and pauses. After silently weighing options he replies, "Alright. For you."

You sit on the ground behind Farkas, legs dangling into the water. He sits in front of you, leaning against your shins with his head tilted back, waiting for you to begin.

You fill the tankard with water and pour it along his hairline. It runs slick off the grease. Frowning, you repeat the action. You run your hands through his locks, encouraging the liquid deeper.

Once they're properly saturated you pour the shampoo into your hands. It smells of fresh cut wood and pine and its translucent amber color is reminiscent of tree sap.

You lather it into his hair. As your fingertips massage his scalp, he sighs. The bubbles begin to froth beneath your hands. You massage the skin and comb through his hair. He relaxes into your touch.

The soap trails down his neck. Slowly, his shoulders sink. His eyes close and his face softens.

Satisfied with your work, you take the tankard and refill it with the warm water. You use it to wash away the shampoo. The suds run down your legs and you feel the ache in your calves begin to soften.

You use your fingers to work out the last of the soap and squeeze the excess water from his hair.

Finally complete, you lean back.

"So, how was it?" You ask.

Hesitantly, he sits back up. He blinks away the beginnings of sleep in his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. "That was... Nice... Is there enough for you?"

"I bought a juniper one. The lady said it would go nice with the soap. It's for 'relaxation and grounding'." You take the bottle and open it for a sniff. It's piney with a hint of peppery spice lingering in the background.

"Hand it over." Farkas says.

"Wait, really?"

"Sure. Give me the bottle and get in."

You do as he says, slipping into the water and sitting cross legged in front of him. As the heat soaks into your bones, you feel your muscles loosen. The tension begins to melt away.

Farkas kneels behind you, and you lean your head back in preparation.

He pours the warm water over your hairline, allowing it to run down into your locks. He repeats the motion, soaking your hair until it clings to your neck. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation of the water rolling down your back.

He pauses to ready the shampoo.

He slathers the cool mixture on top of your head and begins to work it in with calloused fingers. He massages along your forehead and down to your temples, then up toward your crown. He slips his hands beneath your hair to the base of your neck, where salt and sweat cling. Bubbles rise with his work. The sweet evergreen spice of the juniper is more pronounced.

The concoction's effects are swift, and soothe your weary muscles. The tension eases out of your worn body. You become aware of the areas in which it lingers. You roll your shoulders and massage your thighs with your knuckles to dispel it. With the aid of the near-potion, it's quickly whisked away.

He lathers your hair, taking the time to scrub away the weeks of grease and grime coating it. It's far too rare that you get to properly clean it like this. Shampoo is a rarity on the road, let alone any kind good. What you're experiencing here in this hot spring is a luxury like no other, you're sure of it.

You're jolted from your thoughts by something brushing against your back.

You jump.

Farkas laughs.

"Get a little lost?" He asks, stroking your hair and soothing your racing heart. "That was just me."

A hand on your shoulder eases you back into comfort.

"Don't move." He instructs.

The water behind you is disturbed as he turns around. You hear another cork pop - the body wash. There's the rubbing of palms, and two firm hands on your back. They move in circles. The minty cool suds linger on your skin. The faint herbal smell of the elves ear lingers with the sweet of the honey.

"You've needed to relax for a while, huh?" He asks, thumbs working the muscles of your shoulder blades.

"I barely remember what that word means." You sink into his touch. A soft sigh leaves your parted lips.

"That makes two of us." He brings the soap up toward your neck and kneads the tightness. "Let's see if we can figure it out."

A moan escapes you as he hits a tender spot.

With the aid of the soap, your aches begin to find relief. A small gash on your side seems to mend beneath the runoff.

His hands travel down to your biceps. They rub the tender skin. Your cuts and bruises patch themselves under his palms.

He pauses for another handful of body wash, and you feel him circle in front of you. He casts a shadow through your eyelids that reminds you of his presence.

His fingertips tuck the stray hairs clinging to your forehead behind your ear. Your lips curl into a smile.

The backs of his knuckles trail down your cheek, along your jawline and linger under your chin. He tilts your head upward.

You feel breath hot against your lips.

Your eyes flutter open.

Farkas is close - his piercing silver eyes bearing down on you and lighting a fire in your gut.

"Close your eyes," he says with a low rasp, "I'm not done yet."

With flushed cheeks, you let your eyelids fall shut.

His fingers trail down your throat and along your collarbone. They brush along your chest, wiping away the dust of the road and steadily dipping lower.

You take an uneven breath. Steeling yourself, you lean back, displaying your chest for the pleasure of his wandering hands. They slide down and palm your breasts. He runs his thumb briskly across your nipple, your skin slick from the soap. You bite back a moan.

He repeats the motion, pressing firmer. Your nipple is pert under his touch. A new tension begins to grow between your legs.

"Farkas..." You whimper, nearly startled by the sound of your own voice. In the dark - in the midst of the sensation - it sounds booming.

His hands slip to your ribs and guide you up onto your knees. "Follow my lead..." He instructs. He navigates you backwards and to the right, until you're in water that reveals your pussy. Small ripples lap against your thighs just inches below.

His soapy hands roam down your sides. They caress your thighs and move back to your ass. He takes a handful in his sizable grasp and groans. He squeezes it, admiring the supple flesh. You gasp as his other hand moves to your other cheek. Eager fingers exploring your body slip toward your anus, brushing the sensitive skin and sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

The ache grows stronger. You long for the ache of his touch on your cunt - of the feeling of his fingers rubbing against you.

"Please," you manage through a breath.

Curious hands slip forward. One lingers on your hip, massaging the tender area that makes you squirm. The other wanders to your pussy.

He ghosts his fingers along your outer labia. You quiver beneath his touch. You work to steady your breathing.

He slips a digit into your folds. It runs back and forth, hitching your breath, before inching slowly forward.

He gently caresses your clit. A surge of pleasure rolls through your body. He flicks it with a barely there touch. You try and press your hips down against him for more friction.

He pulls back.

You whine and needily rub your thighs together.

"Sit on the edge." He commands with a steely voice. It tightens the knot in your gut.

You open your eyes and are disoriented by the returning world. Colors seem vivid, though night rapidly approaches. Blackened pines tower around you, as does Farkas, looming above. He kneels in the water, with well muscled legs guiding your eyes up to his tapered hips. His cock stands proudly out of the water. It's the first time you've seen it erect, and it's above average length with imposing girth.

"Go on. Sit." He says, gentler.

You nod, and perch yourself on the ledge where the land meets the water. Stray dust from the ground clings to your ass. He pays it little mind as he pushes your legs apart.

On his knees he leans forward, peppering feather light kisses down your chest and belly. Stubble tickles your skin, sensitive and set alight from the teasing.

His hands hook behind your thighs and push you back lightly. He tilts your hips so your pussy his better on display. You prop yourself up on your elbows to observe the man between your legs.

Farkas has a hunger behind his eyes. His breathing is ragged as he leans down and takes your cunt in his hot mouth. An eager tongue runs along your slit. You press the back of your hand to your mouth in an attempt to silence a moan.

He turns his attention to your clit. He gives it a long lick, and a pause. Then, he repeats the motion. He draws out each movement until you're writhing in his grasp. He moans against your skin, burying his face into your pussy eagerly. Zealous, messy gestures shift to steady, purposeful circles.

Your thighs tighten around his head. His stubble is rough on the inside of your thighs, forcing your attention to remain on the man fervently working your desperate cunt. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair - locks soft to the touch.

He grunts. Water splashes as he thrusts his hips forward. He laps at your clit ravenously. His growls reverberate through the nerves. He leads you closer to the edge. The feeling winds into ball, tightening rapidly. His hands are unyielding on your thighs with fingertips threatening to bruise.

You reach your climax. Your moans echo into the night. Your legs wrap tight around his head, holding him close as you ride out your orgasm against his lips.

He slows his motions as you come down.

You release him from your legs and lower them to his sides, dangling your feet in the soothing water. The steam soothes goosebumps rising on your calves.

"Feeling more relaxed?" He chuckles, sitting back on his heels. He licks your fluids from his mouth.

"A bit," you reply in a dreamy haze, "but I think we still need to do something for you."

"I have an idea for that." He says. His hands behind your legs tighten and he pushes you onto your back. You yelp lightly as air escapes your lungs. He looms over you with a knee on the solid ground, and his other leg in the water. "All you gotta do is ask."

"Please," You spread your legs wider for him.

"Please what?" He asks, pushing you further back  and better revealing your dripping wet cunt.

"Please fuck me," Your tone verges on pleading, "I need your cock."

"Since you've been a good girl..." His voice is low and gruff. He spits in his palm and rubs it on his cock, lubricating the length. He grumbles as his fingers roam his shaft. You tremble in anticipation.

His head rests at your entrance. Experimental hips thrust back and forth, grinding his tip against your waiting hole.

"I've been waiting so long for this," he sighs, slipping the head in slowly, "always imagined what this would feel like..."

You stretch as he enters you. It takes a moment to accommodate his girth. He groans, savoring the feeling of your walls around him.

"You're tight..." He says through a clenched jaw. With a thrust, he fills you to the hilt.

You squeeze softly with your pussy and elicit a growl from the man.

He rolls his hips, pelvis bucking against your clit as he grinds into you. His thick cock sends pleasure shooting through your hips. It crawls up your spine and curls your toes. Rivulets of water run from his hair down his chest, drawing your eyes to the sculpted contours of his muscles.

Smiling, your breaths turn to gasps. Soft mewls escape your lips despite yourself.

"So wet..." He mumbles. His pace grows faster. You hear the slick sound of his cock pounding into you above the lapping of the water with his motions.

"Farkas... You feel so good." Your palm clamps over your mouth to mute another needy moan. His cock rams against a sensitive spot. The pleasure could overwhelm you. You feel your pussy spasm around his length.

"Cum for me." He commands.

His words nearly tip you over the edge. Your dangling by a thread, with heaving breaths and hands desperately grasping at the soil.

"Cum for me."

The tension releases, and bliss overtakes you. His name escapes as a sob. Waves of pleasure course through you with each rock of his hips.

Your walls convulse.

His movements grow erratic.

At the sensation, and the sound of your wanton gasps, he cums. He utters an animalistic growl, nails digging into your thighs as your twitching cunt milks the hot seed from his cock. He rides his orgasm out, skin bucking against your sensitive clit. The feeling nearly brings you to another climax.

Panting, he releases your legs.

They fall unceremoniously into the water, sending droplets raining down upon your thighs and stomach alongside the excess drops of cum Farkas shakes from his cock.

The world begins to come back into focus. Above you is the sky, painted purple with the settling hues of night. Twinkling stars and marbled moons look down on you, as does Farkas. He stands in the water at your feet with a grin on his face.

"Relaxed." He repeats the word with satisfaction.

"Yeah..." You reply lazily. Thoughts begin to resurface in the still that has overtaken your brain. In the swirling medley you catch one detail: "You know, we still need to wash you."

He sighs and sits in the water, splashing down in defeat. "Is there gonna be any more of that?"

"Only if you'd like."

He chuckles. "If I have it my way you'll be moaning my name for the rest of the night."

You smile, a heat rekindled between your thighs. "Guess we better put that one to the test."

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Interdigital Heartbeat [指间心音] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.“

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

Do I want to join the band's celebration?

⊹ I'd rather not intrude ⊹

Although I was very interested in Seed, we were still outsiders at the end of the day.

MC: I think we shouldn't intrude on them…

Osborn nodded in assent. He turned to Liyuu.

Osborn: Go on ahead with your get together. I'll send her home early.

Liyuu smiled, giving us a knowing nod in farewell. Osborn pulled me along with him once more, following the crowd that was leaving the venue and exiting the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The roads outside were deserted and silent, much unlike how it was inside the bar. The faint breeze was refreshing as we mutually slowed our footsteps.

Osborn: I saw Liyuu's SNS that day. They're actually going to disband.

MC: Huh? But why…?

Osborn: Maybe they have more important things to focus on.

I froze, stunned, as I slowly digested this shocking piece of news. I suddenly understood why Liyuu had shedded tears earlier atop the stage.

It felt as if I'd just bore witness to the end of someone's youth. My heart filled with an overwhelming sense of loss and regret that I couldn't do anything about.

Then, Osborn ruffled my hair with a vengeance, bringing me out of my regretful musings.

Osborn: C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.

I nodded, rubbing at my own wrist in a moment of sadness… only to gradually realize that something wasn't quite right.

MC: Huh? My bracelet's gone.

MC: ...It might have fallen off at the bar.

Osborn: Let's go back and fetch it then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

However, when we got back to the entrance of the bar, we saw that it was pitch-black inside through the unlocked doors. All the lights inside were off.

Osborn: Wait here for a bit, I'll go look for it.

Then, he turned to enter the bar. I hurriedly called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

MC: Wait, how do you know what my bracelet looks like?

Osborn: I saw it earlier on.

MC: Is that so…

Never thought that he'd notice even something so tiny on my person...

MC: Um! It'll be faster if we have two people searching for it, so it'll be better if I come along!

Osborn: Sure. Stick close then.

I pushed open the door, the "closed" sign that hung off it swaying at the motion.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The door slowly closed behind me as I entered the bar. The only lights here we're the sporadic lights that shone in from the street outside, passing through the wine bottles and glasses alike.

All I could see was his wide back, standing tall in the dimly-lit environment. I followed closely behind him, almost as if he was the embodiment of my predetermined direction.

After walking for a while, I suddenly caught sight of something glimmering on the ground. I quickly knelt down to see what it was. However, after getting a closer look at it, I realized that it wasn't my bracelet.

Standing up again, I realized that Osborn had vanished before me.

A wave of panic overwhelms me. I decided to call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

Osborn: Calling for me?

A faint voice called out from behind, spooking me.

MC: AHHH!!!!

I hurriedly whipped around, only to see Osborn frowning with his fingers stuffed into his ears.

Osborn: Hey! Overreacting much?

MC: Who asked you to suddenly appear behind me like that!?

Osborn: But, you're clearly the one going round in circles.

Osborn: I've found your bracelet. Let's get back outside.

I breathed a sigh of relief, trailing after him as we left the dark bar together.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him OSBORN (萧逸) ⊹

Osborn: I'm here. Scared? There's a tremor in your voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice. I turned and ran in the direction of the voice when I bumped right into someone's chest.

MC: Ah!

I'd only gone two steps before a hand shot out to hold my shoulder, steadying me.

A feeling of safety suddenly envelops me, further clarifying the fact that this was really Osborn. I couldn't help but clutch lightly at him.

MC: Where did you go? You scared me there!

Osborn: About two steps away from you. Saw you circling on the spot.

MC: Hey! Meanie!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Even if all I could hear was his voice, I could still imagine the playful look that must be on his face right now. I was beyond pissed, but the ceiling lights had suddenly flickered on.

Footsteps sounded not too far away from us as a staff walked towards us, looking at us with utter suspicion.

Staff: Hey, who are you lot? Event's over.

I only realized in hindsight that I was still completely plastered to Osborn and quickly pushed him away in embarrassment.

Osborn: Do you know that if you have such a big reaction to it, it just makes you look like you're hiding something?

MC: ...Shut up, you.

Osborn raised his head and loudly replied to the staff.

Osborn: Sorry, we came here to find a lost item.

Staff: We're about to lock up, so I'll give you guys another two minutes.

MC: Okay. Sorry about that!

Searching was much easier after the lights came on, but I still turned out empty-handed from the search.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Our two minutes soon passed. I walked out of the door together with Osborn, feeling slightly regretful about it as we returned to the brightly lit street outside.

MC: *Sigh* Looks like I really did lose it.

MC: And I bought it when I went for a vacation abroad last year, at the market of a small village last year too…

Osborn: You remember it so clearly? Do you always get something as a souvenir whenever you do something that leaves an impression?

MC: Yeah.

Osborn: Have you got one for today?

MC: Uh… Not yet…

Osborn raised a hand, waving it before me. A glimmer of light fell from his fingertips just like magic before he brought it before my eyes.

Focusing my eyes, I realized something. Isn’t that my silver daisy bracelet!?

Osborn: Surprise! Now you do.

It was a pleasant surprise. Then, he lifted my wrist, lowering his eyes as he carefully returned the surprise, lost and regained, to its rightful position around my wrist. With the soft light spilling from the street lamps above, I couldn't help but feel that it appeared more exquisite than ever before.

MC: Thank you. It has not changed from being “a bracelet bought from a market overseas”, to “a bracelet that Osborn gave me”.

Osborn: Then don’t go losing it so easily anymore.

MC: Yessir~

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Perhaps it was the impenetrable darkness around us that gave me an unusual surge of courage, but I grew thick-skinned and yelled the one title that I’d usually never even dream of uttering.

Alas, the embarrassing name-call echoed, reverberating through the room for a long while; perhaps due to the area being too empty and quiet….

A familiar chuckle sounds from the dark.

Osborn: Hey, hey. That's a pretty nice manner of address.

Osborn: How about you yell your support to me like this during my competition? Deal? Deal.

MC: You… I'm only looking fun at you! Where'd you go? Come here. I'm scared.

Osborn: Are you? I thought you were plenty brave.

Osborn: Call me that again and I'll come right over.

MC: You—

Osborn: Be good now, dearest~

His purposefully lowered voice sounded enchanting in the dark. It rippled towards me, inciting a pleasant tingle within my being.

MC: You… Shut up, you. Enough of that already…

Osborn: But you were the one who called me that first!

Osborn quietly waited for the call to come. He didn’t seem like he was going to let up on this matter. However, the impenetrable darkness only increasingly unnerved me. I hesitated for a good three seconds before I gathered my courage and called out once more...

??: Are you guys quite done yet?

An unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in, making me freeze dead on the spot. Then, the lights above us flickered to life.

A member of the staff stood atop the stage, glaring vehemently at us with his hands on his hips.

Staff: I’m sick of seeing all you couples! Are you that bored that you’ve gotta come here just to be all lovey-dovey for kicks!?

Wha… There was a 3rd party here all along? He heard everything…

My eyes immensely darkened as I felt utterly embarrassed, wanting to disappear on the spot if I could.

I could hear the sound of Osborn’s footsteps come from behind. So he hadn’t been all that far away from me after all. Unfazed, he calmly walked up to the stage to explain the situation to the staff.

Staff: Huh. A bracelet? Is it this one?

It was only at the mention of a bracelet that I snapped back to my senses. I buried my face in my hands as I slowly made my way over, peering through the gap between my fingers.

MC: Uh… Yes. Thank you.

Staff: Take it and go; stop being all lovey-dovey in here!

Flushed red, I lowered my head in embarrassment. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even make out a word. Osborn only smiled as he placed his hand around my shoulders and led me out of the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Another two weeks passed after that.

One night, Osborn and I were having dinner at a place near Warson when his phone suddenly lit up with a message.

He took one look at it, his face gradually morphing into one of suspicion.

Osborn: It’s a number I’ve never seen before, telling me to go to “Chimes Piano Shop”. They say I have something there.

MC: Oh? How curious.

MC: But, Chime’s Piano Shop? That’s just nearby. Won’t you know if it’s a scam or not if you just drop by and pay them a visit?

Osborn: Okay, Miss Directionless. How about you lead the way this time?

MC: Hey! This place is around my workplace! Don’t you underestimate me!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After we’d finished our meal, I easily led Osborn to Chime’s Piano Shop, a place that was located deep inside an alley.

Peering through the glass windows of the shop, we could see that it was brightly lit inside. Its interiors were tastefully furnished with a mix of retro and trendy, and there were a variety of brand-new instruments scattered around, being displayed out on the floor.

No matter how we looked at it, it was nothing more than an ordinary piano shop. Hence, we pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

The bell hanging from the door made a pleasant jingle, alerting the clerk to our presence. The uniformed clerk raised his head, smiling as he made his way towards us.

Clerk: Oh. You must be Mr. Osborn, right? I was the one who sent you the message earlier. I’m a friend of Liyuu’s.

Clerk: He left Guangqi City a couple of days ago and placed his electronic keyboard here before he left. He said that he hopes to entrust it to your care.

Osborn: ...An electronic keyboard?

Clerk: Over here.

Following the clerk, we stopped before an electric keyboard that was placed in a corner.

It was clean, but old, considering its slightly outdated style. It stuck out like a sore thumb despite having been placed in a corner, like an old man that possessed a good many stories.

Osborn: He wants to put something this huge in MY house? Gee, he sure knows how to trouble someone.

Clerk: He’d also said that you can give it to someone else or even leave it here for sale if it’s inconvenient for you to take it.

Osborn wearily rubbed his temples before he turned to question me.

Osborn: Do you know how to play?

MC: Oh… Just a little.

Osborn: How about I give it to you then? It's your idol's beloved keyboard.

MC: Don't want it.

He was teasing. I glared at him in dissatisfaction, taking a serious tone with him.

MC: This is the keyboard that Liyuu has used for many years, it must mean an awful lot to him.

MC: I think maybe he doesn’t intend to give up on music.

MC: You’re the one who gave him the motivation to do it, so I think that he’s hoping that you can take it under your wing. To protect and take care of this important dream of his.

MC: Who knows, maybe he’ll come back one day to reclaim it from you!

Osborn: That guy… He’s still as whimsical as ever even after all these years, huh.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Osborn glanced at the keyboard, helplessly shaking his head, as if what stood before him wasn’t his friend’s keyboard, but rather, his friend himself.

After a while, he sat down on the sofa before the electronic keyboard, slowly lifting the heavy black cover that had hidden the keys of the keyboard from view.

The keyboard had been maintained well, but the keys all shone brightly from years of wear and tear, inflicted by years of practising.

His slender, yet strong, fingers slid across the keys, gently pressing on a few.

The black and white keys played a series of pleasant-sounding notes. He lowered his eyes in thought as the sound reverberated in the air.

Osborn: "Take care of his dream for him"? ... I'm not all that noble.

His tone was reminiscent of a sigh. I shook my head and walked up, standing before him.

MC: You don’t have to bear any responsibility for this, Osborn.

MC: You might not understand, but…

MC: Some people just have to exist and do whatever it is that they wish to do. That in itself is something that those who do matter will find solace in.

You fixed your gaze firmly onto him as the thought ran past your mind.

And you, Osborn; you are that existence.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After a while, Osborn sighed, seemingly having come to a compromise about it. He covered the keyboard and stood back up once more.

Osborn: Alright. I'll take it for your sake.

He looked me up and down playfully, his dashing eyes slowly curving upwards in joy.

Osborn: But, you've got something wrong here.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: How could I ever "not understand"?

Osborn: I’ve already long since found the one who’ll safeguard my dreams and aspirations for me.

I froze. I was just about to ask just who this person was when he bent down slightly, his piercing pale green eyes staring deeply at me.

Just as I took notice of the little figure being reflected within his orbs, I heard the notes of a keyboard ringing out in the air, resonating with my heart.

It was then, at that moment, that the answer to the underlying question hanging in the air was self-evident.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[ahkaahshi]

enchanted [bokuto koutarou x reader]

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem reader

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, nylon/lingerie fetish, thigh riding, penetrative sex, car sex, slight praise kink, creampie, brief mentions of drug usage, implied alcohol consumption, bo calls reader “bunny”

word count: 2.6k

overview: bokuto just can’t keep his hands to himself, and why should he when his precious girlfriend looks so hot in her costume?

notes: I definitely drew a hint of inspiration from geralt and yennefer for these matching costumes lol I mean they’re hotties so why not?? also, hope everyone has a safe and happy halloween this year :)

Inside the large house packed to the brim with partygoers, you’re only aware of the throbbing bass knocking the air out of your lungs, the heat creating a thin veil of sweat on your skin, and your boyfriend’s large hands on your waist. His fingers tighten against the black, lacy lingerie serving as the top of your costume for the evening before sliding down the slits of your long, silky skirt and tracing along the decorative edging of the thigh-highs held up by a garter belt hiding beneath the material covering your lower half. The sensation of his warm breath against the hot skin on your neck as he leans over your shoulder sends pleasant tingles down your spine, and you tilt your head toward him to press another kiss against his lips that has him humming affectionately.

Saying that the two of you hadn’t been able to keep your hands off each other since reuniting at the notorious Halloween party the men’s volleyball team threw each year would be a sore understatement. Though you and Bokuto hadn’t arrived together in the spirit of keeping your appearances a surprise, everyone in the entire house now knew that the two of you were an item if they hadn’t before. Aside from the time you’d spent meandering around to speak with a few of his other teammates, your attention had been largely focused on your him—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With the way he looks in the dark trousers that strain around his muscular thighs and the white button-up shirt that’s all but buttoned up, you can hardly resist him. And it’s clear that he feels the same way about you given how he’s spent the entire evening with his hands on you, fingers wandering up and down the semi-sheer material of your delicate hosiery and the lace adorning the lingerie you wear beneath the cover of your dark cloak.

The dragon pendant of your necklace thumps against your sternum as you dance to the music pulsing throughout the house’s interior decorated with orange and purple lights, ghost and skeleton streamers, and other, random Halloween-related paraphernalia. His grip moves your hips against his in cadence with the beat, and your bodies are melded together so seamlessly that it’s almost as if you can feel every part of him against you. A gentle tug at one of your sides prompts you to turn around so you’re facing him, and, in spite of the chaos surrounding you, he’s the only person you see.

His golden eyes are clouded with a noticeable and recognizable haze as they gaze into yours before departing to roam over your figure. The way you look under the flashing lights, swaying to the music in a rather suggestive manner has him feeling enchanted. As if you’ve fully embodied the sorceress persona of your costume and cast a spell on him that made it impossible for him to keep his attention off of you.

You continue moving to the music as you wrap your arms around his neck, (e/c) eyes watching the way the matching necklace he’s wearing rises and falls against his exposed, heaving chest. Gripping the cloak draped loosely around his shoulders to coordinate with yours, you pull him closer to you, undeterred by the stagnant heat of all the bodies in the room. Clearly, he’s not the only one who’s spellbound by his significant other.

“Kou,” you mention in as low a voice as you possibly can, given the bass that swallows every sound in the room aside from the buzz of chatter and bouts of raucous laughter.

Breath tinged slightly of beer fans over your face as he replies, in a husky voice that has you struggling to keep your thighs apart, “What’s up, bunny?”

Your heart warms at the pet name that leaves his mouth seemingly out of pure instinct, and you allow him to pull your body flush against his as you move your face closer to his ear. “Can we get outta here for a bit?” you request sweetly before adding, “I want you. Badly.”

“Fuck, you don’t even need to ask, pretty girl,” he groans, hands sliding down to your rear to give it a firm squeeze. You know he’s been waiting all night for this, and it shows in his eagerness to take your hand in his so he can guide you through the throngs of costumed partygoers hanging around each area of the property. Too impatient to go upstairs and search for a free room—since he lives in an apartment with you rather than in the house with some of his other teammates—he, instead, leads you out the front door, past a group of vampires passing around a blunt and a very disgruntled Sakusa donning the mask he’d incorporated into his costume, and out to his car parked around the side of the property.

Holding open the back door for you, he ushers you inside quickly to keep you from being exposed to the chill in the brisk, nighttime air for too long before sauntering around to the other side. The instant both the doors are shut and locked, Bokuto’s pulling you onto his lap and pressing hot, passionate kisses against your lips. The tension building in your core has you unintentionally rutting against his thigh and moaning into his mouth as his tongue slides along yours while his hands knead the supple skin on your ass.

“Wanna ride my thigh, bunny?” he breathes. The way his normally bright and cheery eyes are narrowed at you and filled with lust has heat rushing between your legs in an instant, and you nod enthusiastically. “Take off my pants and make yourself feel good, then, baby.”

Your hands move to his belt, unbuckling it so you can undo the fly of his trousers and push them down. His large palms come to rest atop yours, and he lifts his hips so he can help you slide the fabric below his knees, giving you ample space to work with. The cloak over your shoulders is quickly shed, and his fingers are moving to the waistband of your skirt to relieve you of any fabric separating your now dripping pussy from the bare skin on his thigh. When he notices you reach to undo the lingerie bodysuit you’re wearing, he halts your efforts by grabbing your wrists.

“Leave it on.” The pace of your heart skips a beat as his hand slides between your legs to trail along the thin layer of wet fabric preserving your modesty. A small whine of desperation leaves your mouth that transforms into a squeak of surprise when he pushes the material aside, putting your glistening folds on display. “You look so pretty like this—all worked up over the thought of my cock,” he muses, nestling his face in your neck to pepper your heated skin with kisses, “You’re so sweet, bunny.”

A loud moan escapes your lips at the feeling of your sensitive clit meeting the firm skin on his thigh when he pushes your hips down toward it. Placing your hands on the upholstered surface of the backseat to steady yourself, you begin grinding against his leg, drawing more cries and mewls of satisfaction from your own mouth. Bokuto loves the way you look when you’re getting off, and he loves seeing you riding his thigh while wearing the prettiest lingerie you own. With a small hum of satisfaction, he allows his hands the freedom to roam across the soft material of your nylons before sliding them up to your breasts.

The sensation of his fingers tugging down the sweetheart neckline of your top so he can roll your hardened nipples between them has you moaning out his name rather loudly. Out of your own desperation to please him as well, you reach for the noticeable bulge in his boxer briefs, palming his erection as you continue rutting against his thigh, coating his skin in your essence. Before you can slip off the fabric around his lower half, though, he’s hooking a finger in the necklace hanging in front of your chest and pulling you closer to him so he can take one of your nipples in his mouth instead.

“Kou!” you cry wantonly, feeling the heat in your core building at his actions in combination with the delicious friction against your clit with each drag of your hips along his leg, “Feels so good!”

“You love getting yourself off on my thigh, don’tcha, pretty baby?” The low yet gentle tone in his voice sends more waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can barely stay focused enough on anything aside from chasing your own orgasm to nod in response to his question. “Gonna cum soon?”

A “Yes,” escapes your mouth in a gentle whimper, but you add, “Want you inside me, baby; please. Wanna feel your big cock inside of me.”

“Yeah?” he growls, jaw instinctively clenching when your hands return to the waistband of his underwear to slide it past his hips. Giving him another nod, you move your face closer to his so you can press more passionate kisses against his lips in the hopes of making the desire you’re sure he already feels burn brighter. Sure enough, the sensation of your delicate, careful fingers wrapping around the shaft of his thick cock as you continue grinding against his thigh and dragging your tongue along his soft lips causes his grip to tighten around your waist.

Another one of your squeals bounces around the hot air inside the car when he lifts your hips from his thigh so he can position your entrance above his dick and slowly plunge inside of your familiar and welcoming warmth. You murmur softly, eyes screwing shut at the bittersweet sensation of his size stretching your walls to their limits as he pushes deeper and deeper into your core. His thumb traces your hipbone in slow circles to help you relax, since he can feel the tight squeeze of your pussy clenching around him—nearly forcing him out with each contraction.

“There you go, bunny,” he soothes, golden eyes trained on the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, “Mm, good girl! You always take me so well.”

Your walls flutter around him at the praise, eliciting a gentle groan from his throat. “Kou…” you utter quietly, your voice no louder than a breathless whisper as he bottoms out, “You feel so good, baby.”

The kisses he plants along your jaw are sweet and tender to match the slow pace you set when you begin riding him. Small grunts of pleasure fall off his lips and onto your skin each time your hips sink back down towards his, fully sheathing him inside of you once more. A small whimper bubbles in your mouth with each small thrust of his upwards, pushing himself just that tiny bit deeper inside of you and nudging your cervix. Your legs are quaking with both fatigue, pleasure, and yearning as you use then to move his dick in and out of you.

“A little faster, baby; c’mon,” he encourages, gripping the nylon wrapped around your thighs for a moment before placing his hands on your hips so he can help you set a quicker pace. Soon, the pleasure of his cockhead hitting your sensitive spot fills you with more desire, and you find yourself falling into the rhythm he sets, riding him faster and harder than you’d been before. “That’s it! You’re making me feel so fucking good.”

As you find yourself nearing your orgasm once more, your head rolls back and you release more feverish pants and mewls of delight. The sensations of your boyfriend plunging deep inside of you are wonderful, but you can’t seem to push yourself over the edge. Bokuto knows how close you are with the way your pussy squeezes him so desperately, and his own craving to ravish you floods his body in what feels like an instant to you.

Before you know it, you’re being pushed sideways onto the backseat, splaying your body out across it. Your legs instinctively fall apart to accommodate his broad torso between them, and your core stretches once more when he enters you again. The little space available in the back of the car has your hot bodies in close quarters, causing the windows to fog up even more—until they’re nearly opaque. Now, he’s thrusting into you harder and faster than you could’ve hoped to fuck yourself while riding him, and he feels so damn good.

“Fuck, Kou!” you moan, “Right there! I’m—ahh—I’m gonna cum. Please!”

The entire car shakes with the force he’s using to slam into you, hellbent on helping you reach your high. His skin slaps against yours and more praises rain down on you from his mouth, shaking with the intensity of his thrusts and effort. “You can do it; c’mon! Cum for me, bunny. Wanna see that cute, little face you make.”

Your mouth falls open moments later and your hands move to his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly between your fingers as a powerful orgasm washes over you. His name is the only word you can utter over and over again in a breathless chant while your body shudders and your pussy spasms around him. Seeing his precious girlfriend in such a state of disarray and ecstasy, pulling him close to her and crying out for him as she cums around his cock awakens an animalistic desire within Bokuto that has him driving into you at breakneck speed until he sees stars and feels the knot in his own stomach come undone.

Cursing loudly and moaning unabashedly, he releases inside of you in such a large load that his seed seeps out of your core before he’s even finished riding out his high. He could care less about the seats or your lingerie getting dirty, though, with how divine you feel and sound. His heavy pants fan across your skin once his pace slows, and there’s a few beats of silence before he opens his eyes and looks down at you once more. Chest rising and falling in deep breaths, (e/c) eyes slowly fluttering open and struggling to focus on him in your euphoric haze, droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and tender skin, he can only think about how beautiful you are—and will always be—to him.

“Fuck, (f/n),” he sighs, another one of those bright smiles of his spreading across his lips as he admires you, “I can’t believe I’m the one that gets to take you home with me.”

You giggle softly against his lips when he leans down towards you to bestow a few, affectionate kisses against yours. “Likewise,” you respond once he allows you a break for air, running your fingers along the strong muscles in his back.

He groans softly and lifts your back off the seat so he can sit up and pull you into his lap before wrapping his arms around you. “I don’t even wanna go back inside,” he comments as he places his head on your shoulder, “I just wanna go back home with you.”

“Aww, is the party animal all tuckered out now?” you tease and mindlessly card your fingers through his spiked, salt and pepper colored hair.

His grip around you tightens in response before he answers, “Nope, not at all.” The sensation of his lips dancing along your neck has you humming expectantly and closing your eyes as you lean into him. “Because once we get home—before we settle down, eat some candy, and watch a movie together—I’m gonna make you cum more times than you can count, bunny.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus

bokuto: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata, @cuddlysoftbear

[babbushka]

Each Eye (8/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Reader

13.6k, Warnings: NSFW, Violence, Murder, Blood, Character Death (Not Kylo or Reader)

                                                   ----------------------

The drive had him in a near frenzy. Kylo never noticed how good of a driver Dophled was, never paid much mind, until he was stuck behind the boy in traffic, until he followed the path Dopheld cut for him. He would have to give the boy a raise, he decided as they blew through a red light, barreling down the streets of midtown towards the apartment where he was desperate to arrive.

He can see you, just barely. Can see you through the tinted glass, tinted dark enough that it might as well be illegal. But he can see you, the back of your head, your pretty hair. His body is on fire for you; fuck you’re so sexy, he thought. You were sexy sitting in that little tea room, bringing up all of his shitty sister’s dirty laundry, and you’re sexy now.

He can’t wait to get his hands on you, to beg for you, to hear the praise that he knows he can coax forth – he just has to get home first.

A rat, he thought to himself with a white-knuckled grip on the fine leather of the steering wheel. His own sister following in the footsteps of his god-awful father. He had suspected, he had thought, had sensed some betrayal, and the confirmation of it all had his blood boiling.

Was it boiling, or was it singing?

Either way, you held the key to reigning him in, and he nearly held his breath in anxious anticipation of your lips on his, soothing his veins.

He felt like a boy again, when the cars pulled up outside the apartment. He didn’t bother turning off the car or parking it, letting one of the apartment valets do it for him, tossing the kid the car key.

He felt like a boy again, watching you step out of the shiny black Bentley, watching your elegant leg stick out of the car. He took long strides across the short strip of sidewalk, offered you a hand as he always did, as he always will do. Your well-manicured hand was practically drooling with gold, gold he had given you, and he cannot help himself as he brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

You smiled, ducked your head for a moment and pressed the palm of that hand to his cheek, his scarred cheek, the one you so lovingly caressed. There was a hint of something in your eye, something between hunger and anger, a dangerous fury, simmering just below the surface of your composure.

Kylo’s cock grew hard in his nice pressed trousers -- few had seen you so furious, even fewer had seen and lived. It was some delicious dark thing, one he wanted to revel in for the rest of his life.

And soon, soon he could. Soon he would have all the power all on his own, he wouldn’t have to vie for it, wouldn’t have to negotiate, wouldn’t have to compromise within his own fucking family. No, soon Rey would be gone and he could have everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Kylo opened the front door of the apartment lobby for you, let you light the button for the elevator.

Only when the elevator doors closed and the key to unlock the button for the penthouse had been pressed, did you embrace.

 All at once, the raging clawing desperate fire in him comes to life, and he backed you up against the wall of the elevator, hands all over you. He never felt more alive than when he had you in his arms, than when your lips were on his. And on his they were, tongue hot and coaxing, sighing against his mouth, pulling soft whines from the back of his throat.

He could taste the tea on your tongue, sucked off the last droplets of honey and pistachio, kissed and kissed and kissed you as the elevator soared.

“I fucking knew it.” He growled against your cheek as he took a small break to breathe, his hands already asking permission to cover your breasts, to grope you and squeeze the flesh which he so adored. “She sent the cops crawling, didn’t she?”

“Poe and Finn got to her, she defected, and it’s going to ruin everything if we don’t stop her.” You nodded, panted against him as you guided those shaking hands of his against your skin, under your bra.

“We’ll stop her.” Kylo almost didn’t know what he’s saying, he was so focused on the feel of your skin, hot hot hot in his hands, his big hands which nearly covered you completely. He willed the elevator to move faster, wanted you home so he can beg to fuck you. “I’ve been waiting a long time to shut her up.”

“I feel like this is my fault.” You sighed, and he paused his ministrations with a scowl.

“Don’t say that.” His anxiety rushed through him at your distress.

You were never at fault, ever. Never had you done one wrong thing in your life, as far as he was concerned. You could have killed the entire family, could have burned the businesses down to the ground, and he still would have thought you right.

But you were frowning, and it made his heart beat fast in a way that made him run cold. He didn’t like to see you frown, not like that.

“If I had killed her when I had the chance – if I had let you go after her the way you wanted...” You looked off into the reflection of yourselves in the polished walls of the elevator, genuinely introspective and lost in thought. “Maybe none of this would have happened.”

He shook his head, nudged your chin so that your face was tilted towards his.

“Rey was useful for a time, until she wasn’t.” He said softly, licking his lips and bending down to kiss you once more, to kiss you forever, kiss your frown away. “At least now we have reason to make a point of her, now no one can come after me for it.”

That had you smiling, and the relief flooded through him almost as quickly as the nerves had. It was amazing, he thought, just how the sight of your pretty lips stretched into a grin could flip such a switch in him. Sometimes he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, thinks about how you save him over and over again, every day, every moment of every day, with that smile.

But other times…other times he is enchanted by the cold callous cruelty in your eyes, never at his expense, but at the expense of your enemies. He relished the way you shared that cruelty with him, shared his enemies and adopted them as your own.

Fuck, he loved you.

And you, his savior wrapped in velvet, you loved him back.

“No one will come after you, they wouldn’t dare. But we need our hands clean of this crime, with the police on her side they’ll suspect us immediately.” You whispered, like the cops have bugged the elevator, like they’re listening in. You clasped one hand around his tie and gave it a firm squeeze, “We have to be careful about this, no rampant massacring.”

“I have a plan.” Kylo nodded, bit the inside of his cheek and felt the thrill of a murder yet to come bubbling up inside him, starting in his stomach and trickling through his arms to the tips of his fingers where they trembled with want against your skin. “One I’ve been sitting on for-fucking-ever.”

“Where does it start?” You kissed him, deliberately, slowly, in that measured way that Kylo knows he will never be able to achieve, not when it comes to you.

The elevator dinged, finally having arrived at the penthouse lobby, and he took your hand in his own, led you to the lavish front door of your apartment.

“With the rabbi.” He said eagerly, other hand turning the lock and pulling you inside with blood pounding in his ears.

“The rabbi?” You frowned, trying to remember this plan.

“Yeah but first – (Y/N), honey, I – ” The plan could wait, everything could wait. For now he needed you, needed your body pressed against his, and he wasted no time dragging you to the bedroom.

You go willingly, happily, already unzipping and unbuttoning yourself, already shedding your clothes as you follow him into the room. You’re naked by the time he picked you up and threw you onto the bed, your bright laugh ringing through the modern furnishings as you bounced on the mattress, gorgeous in the yellow sun of the afternoon.

The windows were all open, all the curtains wide apart, wide wide wide like your legs as they spread for him.

“I know, I know.” You reached for him, beckoned him close, “Take what you need, take me.”

He could come from just that, you both know. He could stand right there and come all over himself like some messy slut just from your sweet words, your words of encouragement and permission. But his eyes are zeroed in on your pussy, and he practically tripped over himself to rip his suit away from his overheated skin, so anxious to fuck you that it almost made him sick.

He knew you need to be taken care of, need to be prepared. His cock was big, he’s proud of it, he’s proud of the way it made you feel. But only when you’ve been stretched for him, only when you’re ready for him. So he climbed naked onto the bed, rolled you over onto your hands and knees so your back was arched and your ass was presented to him.

His chest burned burned burned with lust, and he had to grip the base of his cock because you hadn’t said he could fuck you yet, hadn’t given him permission for that. He reached around you to stick a couple fingers in your mouth, and you, the perfect fucking angel you were, sucked them in between your teeth. You drooled all over them, so much so that when he pulled away, spit hung like little strands in a spiders web of lube on his hand.

“Touch me Kylo.” You told him, and he had to shut his eyes so he wouldn’t completely lose himself.

He slid his coated fingers into your pussy and shuddered at the way you moaned. He knew he should go slowly, knew he should take his time, but there’s not much time to be had, not much time to be savored in the way he wanted. So he pushed three fingers into you right up to the hilt, shuffled behind you so so so close, draped his stomach all across your back so he could feel the shocks of pleasure through your body.

He head rested on your shoulder, as your body quivered for him.

“Oh, fuck that’s good.” Your sighs and gasps and pants and moans were delicious as he curled those three fingers inside you.

He wondered if he could, if you’d let him, put in a fourth. His hands were so fucking big, you always liked to compliment him on it, always liked to say so. You always told him how big his hands were, maybe you’d like to get fully fucked with them.

“Ah! Kylo, honey, more -- harder.” You ordered, and he was so happy, so willing to obey.

He worked you open until your thighs began to shake in earnest, until your arms had to be growing sore. He’d roll you over in a moment, he knew he would, he just was too obsessed with the feeling of your pussy soaking his hand. He leaned back to sit on his haunches, and his other hand which had been supporting his weight now came around to smooth up your stomach, sending the muscles and flesh twitching with excitement.

“I could…” He drooled all over your lower back where it’d arched for him, “I could fit my whole fist in here.”

You flinched lightly at the spit, tensed around his fingers, squeezed him tight. Fuck you’re tight, he thought, always somehow forever so tight, as if you were begging to be fucked in the way that he would beg to fuck you. You threw a glance over your shoulder as you rocked back on his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers because his brain had stopped momentarily from how good you fucking looked.

“Don’t you dare.” You teased, bringing him back to life.

“I won’t – but I could. I could and you’d take me, your pussy would take the whole thing.” He bent over again, pushed into your cunt with the heel of his palm, pushed you up the bed so your arms would give out and you’d collapse onto the mattress face-first.

“Your big cock is enough.” You muffled, moaned, as he found the little spot inside you that had you panting quickly into your pillow.

“It’s big?” Kylo asked, sweating sweating sweating, dick rock hard against your thigh.

“So big!” You nodded, voice high. The praise only made his dick leak, only made it ooze pre-come from the tip, only made him groan.

He pulled his fingers away from your sweet cunt, brought them up to his mouth to lick off the juices there, licked up every drop of your sweet pussy that he could, the slick making a mess of his goatee. He wanted it, wanted to bathe in it, would bathe in your blood if you’d let him.

“How big?” He asked, guiding his cock to rub between your folds, your pussy throbbing for him.

You teased him, made him growl with the way you shimmied your hips back and forth, back and forth. He wanted to sink his cock into you, wanted to fuck you hard with it, but you hadn’t said yes yet, hadn’t told him he could. Instead, the slippery hot lips of your pussy sucked him in and he had to restrain himself, had to make himself stay just there, just coating his cock in your wetness.

“Fucking huge. So big that I can feel it up in my throat when you fuck me, I can taste it like when you come in my mouth that’s how big it is.” You said, and he groaned, pre-come pulsing out of him, his balls already so tight, his stomach already so tense.

“Please, precious, (Y/N), I -- please let me, please – ” He couldn’t hold back any longer, he just couldn’t he might cry, might weep tears of arousal and desperation if you didn’t let him fuck you properly soon. But he could save his tears for another day, because as soon as he started to plead for your pussy, you found the strength to push back onto him.

You pushed your cunt only an inch onto his cock before he grabbed your hips and slammed himself the rest of the way, knocking the air out of you.

“Yes, yes! Oh, Kylo.” You moaned high and loud, biting the pillow hard, your pussy sopping wet and dripping all over his thighs. He wondered if you came, if you came already just from being fingered and having his big big big cock – you said so, you had said it was big, his fucked up sex drunk mind played on loop – all the way inside you.

He would never get tired of this, of this feeling. Of the way you consumed him so. You have inhabited every cell, every nerve, every fiber of his being; and when you gasped on his cock, he felt like he was on fire, like he could raze the entire planet down to the ground. You were everything, everything to him, everything he had ever wanted or needed, everything come together just for him.

He didn’t know how you do it, how you fit him so perfectly inside you – inside your heart, your soul, your mouth, your hands, your cunt, he didn’t know. But he was grateful, wanted to show that gratitude.

“Ah, ah,” He grunted, the loud smack of his skin against yours already intoxicating his obsessed brain. It was the only word for it, the only word really. Obsessed, he was obsessed with you. His hands gripped you tightly, gripped your thighs in a way that he knew would bruise. He’d bruise you all over if you’d let him, and he so desperately wanted you to let him, so he asked, “Please?”

You shimmied out of his hold for a moment, re-arranged yourself so that you could be on your back, and it was as if the gates of heaven above parted for him with the way you wound your calves around his hips.

He took the opportunity of seeing your face to kiss you, one palm on your jaw, tongue hot hot hot down your throat. He ground his cock into you, rolled his hips, rolled them as they were flush against your sweating body. He loved when you sweat, loved when the strands of your hair stuck to your cheek, your mouth bitten and kissed raw.

“You’re so good for me, so good.” You moaned and panted against his lips as he bent himself into whatever shape he needed to be able to kiss and fuck you at the same time. “The best, do you know that? You’re the best.”

His head went fuzzy from the praise, fuzzy and fucked up, god you’ve got him under such a spell, under such a tight grip. He’s not complaining, he’d never complain, he could only groan as he sped his hips up, dragged you down the bed with that tight grip of his, tight like your cunt on his cock.

He built up so much speed that he could almost hear the harsh squeaking of the bed underneath you, could almost hear the slam of the headboard against the wall. He sucked the air straight from your lips, carbon dioxide making him hazy, your hands and nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, the meat of his back.

“Oh! Oh Kylo, yes!” Your voice is loud, fuck it’s loud, so loud in his ear and yet he felt a million miles away, swimming in the warm tight love comfort joy relief that is your pussy.

He took and took and took all his pleasure straight from the well of lust between your legs, rammed himself up up up into you, rammed himself so hard and fast that before he knew it, your gasps shifted from pleasure to pain.

“Ow -- Fuck!” You gripped his hair tight with your hand, winced sharply as his cock shoved itself up against your cervix in a way he suddenly realized wasn’t fun, wasn’t comfortable. His chest ached and pained immediately, and he slowed his hips down, less of a frenzy when you shook his head a little with a kiss and, “Kylo be careful with me honey.”

“Sorrysorry I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize, desperate to make it up to you, frantic for it.

He kissed you, licked a stripe across your teeth, sucked your tongue into his mouth as he forced his hips to slow, forced himself to take his time so he didn’t accidentally hurt you again. He’d kill something if you ever made a shock of pain like that again.

“Say it.” You demanded, not unkindly but firmly, firm enough that his balls tightened and his pelvis ground against you almost in slow motion. The control you had over him, the power, was enough to make him keen, his hips stuttering inside you.

“M’sorry!” He groaned into the crook of your neck where he drooled and panted like some great beast, some monster with claws too sharp as they sunk into your soft flesh like putty.

You preened under the attention, under the gaze of his dark dark dark eyes, your mouth open, unable to close from the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, all the way up into your throat like you had said.

“Again, like you mean it.” You bared your teeth – and that was the most delicious thing, wasn’t it?

He thought to himself. He was a monster, a beast, yes. But you were some wicked thing in your own right, a force to be reckoned with, a power to be obeyed. You had ambition in your eyes just the same, had that hunger for power simmering under your skin just as he did.

Kylo was willing, god he was more than willing, to offer everything to you, to give you anything you could ever ask for, could ever demand.

“I’m sorry!” He gasped, limbs shaking, trembling all over the way your thighs did, the way your face shook with pleasure as your eyes nearly blanked out.

“Alright, it’s alright. Make us come.” You nodded, let him groan and drag his dick through your body, speared himself in all the way.

“Thank you, precious.” He kissed every inch of your skin, every single inch.

He licked and bit marks into the valley between your breasts, latched his mouth onto a nipple and sucked hard. Your back arched into him, pushing your body closer closer closer to his, and his head was completely filled with the rush of blood in his ears, your whines and pants and moans caressing him like the soft warmth of a summer sun.

“K – fuck – Kylo,” Your voice grew higher and higher, until you were sobbing, until your throat hiccupped around your moans, and you came.

He loved it, the feeling of you coming underneath him. Your legs gripped his hips like a vice, your nails breaking his skin and the sick sting of pleasure broke him into goosebumps. Your body tensed and the sagged into the mattress, sinking deep into the soft world of blankets and pillows that Kylo worked so hard to keep plump and clean and fresh. He could practically taste the salt of your sweat as your body wracked with tremors of pleasure, could smell the sex on you. It was almost more than he could bare, being this close to you, being so wholly yours.

Your body went pliant for him, as he fucked you through it, so close, so fucking close to coming himself – and then he grunted out his own orgasm, bright white blinding hot hot hot coursing through him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, making his toes curl into the sheets.  

Out of it, nearly blacked out, his hips still moved, milking his cock with the way your pussy gripped him. He was almost afraid that he’d never be able to pull out – and he found he didn’t want to.

You were smiling underneath him, that blissed out look on your face something that calmed Kylo’s frantically buzzing nerves. He felt good, so fucking good, felt over the moon. His cock throbbed with come, pouring it into you, filling you up. He fumbled around the bed with his eyes still shut, until his hand grasped around one of the plush pillows you had nearly torn into two with your teeth.

He shoved the pillow under your hips and kept going, kept grunting in your ear, groaning out deep sighs of pleasure as your body took every last drop he had to give, until you were practically overflowing with his come.

“Love you.” You whispered, your fingers carding through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in that way that had him sighing happily, little noises in the back of his throat that he couldn’t really control.

Not that he had to, he never had to worry about that with you. He let himself rest on top of your body, cock beginning to go soft inside your beautiful perfect cunt. He let himself rest there, atop your skin, ear listening to the way your heart pounded well and alive underneath your flesh. He calmed his breathing down to the sound of your heartbeat, kissed and mouthed at the soft touch of your breasts.

“Tomorrow?” He pressed the word into your skin, smothered and smeared his reverence there.

Reverence, that was it. That’s what he felt for you, above all else, adoration. He wanted to hold you like some precious thing, wanted to cradle you close to his soul if he had one, if it wasn’t torn to pieces by now.

If it had, Kylo figured, if it had been shredded up into small bite sized chunks, well. You must have been the one to hold them.

“No honey, it has to happen tonight.” You whispered sympathetically, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, breathing deeply. A swell of pride surged through him at that, at how he was so able to make you lose it, make you come so hard that your hands still shook even after the glow of orgasm wore away.

“I want…” He didn’t know how to say it, how to express the way he wanted to lay at your feet like the attack dog he was once, some frothing at the mouth vicious thing that only you could heel. How he would rip the heads off of anyone who so much as looked at you wrong, how he would lay their bones in pretty arrangements before you. He didn’t know how to say it and that frustrated him, so instead he grunted out an, “Ugh.”

But you, you were so patient with him, so patient always. You smiled, because you knew, knew what he meant without him even having to say any of it.

Still, you wanted to hear it, you liked hearing him talk after he’d come, voice extra deep, baritone made you shiver.

“Use your words darling.” You encouraged, and he couldn’t think of anything else, so when he finally opened his eyes and took in the sight of you in the rich buttery afternoon sun, he feels like he’s on fire again.

“Can I bathe you?” He asked, because it was the one thing he could do to show you, to tell you without saying it.

                                                    ----------------------

His hands don’t shake, in the bathtub. You kept the lights off, so it’s pitch black in the bathroom, black as night though it’s only five in the afternoon. The two of you are crowded together in the tub, the water scalding hot and frothed with expensive soap that Kylo didn’t know the brand name of. He cupped his hands in the water and poured it over your head from where you’re leaning against his chest, his body wrapped around yours.

He couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop passing his palms over your body, lightly scrubbing your flesh with the calloused heel of his palm, rinsing away the sweat and sex that clung to your inner thighs.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, his nose prodding at your soft cheek, making you hum out a little smile.

He kissed you there, traveled slow kisses down your neck, followed the curve of your shoulder. He kissed you, lips plush and swollen from the way he found himself unable to ever stop, unable to ever take himself away from you.

“I’m all yours, forever.” You slid your hands to cover his own, where they had wound tightly around your middle, fingers interlaced with his.

The possession flared up in his blood, and the kiss to your shoulder turned more into a bite, one that had you sighing back into his embrace.

“I’m excited.” He said, apropos of nothing, “To kill her.”

And he was, he was thrilled. For years he had stood by and let her run around, let her think she had some piece of control. He had tried to deal with her, had given her Midtown some years ago in an attempt to keep her under watch, but that had failed.

He wondered when she had defected, when she sold out to the cops. Was that before she tried to murder him? Before she cut his face open and left him in the streets to die? Or was it after the realization that it would take more than that to kill him, more than that to break him down.

“I know you are, I’m excited to let you.” You smiled, he could tell you were smiling, he could hear it in your voice. “We have to get dressed.”

He pinched at your thigh lightly, making you suck in a breath. He made no move to get out of the tub though, made no move to take you into the closet and watch you get clothed, watch you get so perfectly put together. You chuckled about that, about the stillness, about the way his muscles only tightened around you when you tried to make a notion to stand.

He wrapped his hands around your throat instead, brought your head back back back until it was tipped onto his shoulder. Those big hands of his then smoothed down the front of your body, doing their best to cover every inch, every piece of you that he could.

“I love you so much.” He said, envisioning the way you’d look when he brought you back your trophy, your prize, your gift.

The thought of it almost made him hard again.

“I love you too darling,” You twisted in his embrace, kissed him and straddled his thighs, water sloshing all over the place, “But we have to go meet with the rabbi.”

                                                        ----------------------

The look on Luke’s face when he opened the office door to see his nephew and his wife, was almost worth the schlep downtown.

Almost.

The traffic had been a bitch, had put Kylo in a sour fucking mood, a mood which wasn’t likely to let up at all, considering he was being faced with the man who arguably, could be blamed for much of his disastrous upbringing. But, while there was much anger still harbored in Kylo’s chest, he wasn’t there for a fight; in fact, quite the opposite.

Luke must have sensed that, must have used his bizarrely strong powers of intuition to conclude that you and Kylo were here for some other reason, because that look of shock quickly melted into one of quiet, although apprehensive, joy.

“Kylo! (Y/N), hello! I wasn’t so sure I’d be seeing you here any time soon.” The old man welcomed you into the office.

You held Kylo’s hand, and he was thankful for it, thankful because he wasn’t so sure what he’d do with himself if he didn’t have the tether of your touch to guide him, ground him, as he walked into the office and sat in the big leather chairs on the opposite side of a large mahogany desk.

Kylo felt like a kid again, being sent to talk to his Uncle when he wouldn’t cooperate during Hebrew school, when he would get into arguments with the teachers and classmates.

“We come often, don’t we?” You asked, cool as a cucumber. Kylo admired that about you, admired lots of things about you, but the way you always managed to stay so cool was definitely one of them.

“Yes, but I mean here, in my office.” Luke gestured to the grand bookshelves around him, dark wood holding secrets, holding the sacred texts.

“We can leave – ” Kylo started, already aggravated, already getting annoyed, feeling far too much like he was being scolded yet again, always scolded by someone.

“We want your blessing.” You said instead, looking at Kylo, looking at him expectantly.

You looked at Kylo, and Kylo looked at Luke, and Luke looked at you, the three of you in thick anticipation of what you had up your sleeves. They were very fine sleeves, expensive ones, satin that draped gorgeously over your body, cascading over your shoulders.

“(Y/N) and I are trying to have a baby.” Kylo admitted, because it wasn’t a lie.

It was better to stick to the truth, when it came to Luke. He wasn’t as good as you, not nearly as good, but he could always tell when Kylo was lying.

His uncle narrowed his eyes, mulled over the declaration for a moment or two before he too sat back in his big leather chair. His kippah got slightly pushed around from the way he let his head settle into the cushion, and he scratched at the beard which once may have been blonde, but now had faded to a salt and pepper grey.

“Are you really?” He stared at Kylo, as if this were some cruel joke Kylo might play.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.” Kylo’s hand drifted down from where it was intertwined with yours on the armrest of the chair, to your stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet, not to your knowledge anyway.

But soon, hopefully soon. He’d take you to Paris as soon as this was all done, had plane tickets tucked away in his jacket pocket to jet you off abroad where all the mess of the murder could be cleaned up and he’d fuck you all day every day, a celebration of your anniversary.

Hopefully, when you both came back to the states, you’d be eating for two.

Luke, despite the tenuous relationship between him and his nephew, smiled. He didn’t congratulate you, didn’t offer any words of encouragement, because that wasn’t done. It would be back luck, it would jinx the whole thing, if he had been overjoyed. Kylo appreciated that, and he knew you did too.

“Of course not.” Luke agreed, no need to tell anyone anything when there wasn’t anything to tell. “Leia will be overjoyed, having a grandchild.”

Kylo rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw in a steely attempt to walk out from the mention of his mother.

“You know that won’t change things.” Your hushed voice was a balm over Kylo’s aggravation, and he let his hand return to its spot against your palm, your fingers lacing through his in their usual way.

“Maybe not, but a baby does bring an insurmountable abundance of joy, and knowing you two, they’ll be the most loved and spoiled thing in the entire world.”

“Will you give it to us, then? Your blessing?” You were hopeful, eyes pleading.

Your charm was truly something to behold, because Luke was standing up from his hair and beckoning you forward in an instant. You smiled so wide at him and Kylo tried not to let his jealousy show too strongly.

“Yes, come here.” Luke reached for your hands, and you gave them to him.

Kylo turned his attention to the office around him, for a moment. It was a very nice office, all dark woods that had been carefully polished and treated well, taken care of lovingly. There was a big window which let light pour in in streams, it caught little flecks of fluff and bits of nothing in the air. If Kylo had been a better student, he thought to himself, maybe he could have one day worked in an office like this.

But, he smirked to himself, he had to admit, his own office was much nicer.

Much like his office though, Luke’s was full of secrets. And it was these secrets which had brought him and his most beautiful, perfect wife, to visit.

When Luke had finished reciting some prayers and Kylo was sure he wouldn’t be interrupting, he rose from his seat and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Can I talk to you privately for a minute?” He cleared his throat, getting the attention of his uncle who regarded him warily.

It was known that Kylo didn’t like to really do anything privately, anything without the comforting company of you. Luke’s apprehension was valid, as you sat down back in your chair and pulled out your phone, content to scroll through something while they spoke.

“I’ll wait here.” You smiled, that smile which put Luke at ease, which convinced him to lead Kylo through a back door, into a smaller, more secluded section of the office.

This was Luke’s private study, a place he didn’t very often let people visit.

Kylo walked around to the other side of Luke’s desk, presumptuous and annoying in the way he touched Luke’s shit, picked up a paperweight and rolled it around in his hand.

“Do you ever wish that you had children, Uncle Luke?” Kylo asked, not bothering to really look up at him.

He wasn’t actually interested in talking with the rabbi, he just needed to buy you time, that was all.

“Me?” Luke mused, face quirking into thought while he adjusted the tallit around his shoulders, “No not really. No offense Kylo but you really put a damper on the whole idea. Why do you ask?”

That almost made Kylo huff out a self-deprecating laugh, almost. He remembered the nightmare that he had been as a child, when his parents had given up on him and sent him away, when he’d spent too many of his days cooped up in the synagogue. He didn’t blame Luke for thinking so negatively of him – the feeling was mutual.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it, about fatherhood.” He put the paperweight down, and Luke visibly relaxed now that a blunt instrument was no longer in the palm of his murderous nephew. “You know, with (Y/N) trying to conceive and all.”

“Have you been thinking about fatherhood in general, or about Han?” Luke asked, and Kylo felt his whole body go cold.

Han was a sore subject, for a lot of reasons. He had always been a sore subject, even from the time of Kylo’s youth. It almost felt like all the bullshit that happened in his life happened because of Han. And maybe that was being overly dramatic, but well. The Skywalker bloodline had never been known for their logic and reasoning.  

“Han.” Kylo said, eventually. Because it wasn’t a lie, he had been thinking about him. “How he failed me. How you failed me when they sent me away. How Snoke failed me. I feel like I’m cursed, I don’t want my child to feel the way I feel about all of you.”

He never knew what it was about the rabbi, how he could spill all his fears right there in the open, fears he was too afraid to acknowledge out loud because if he acknowledges them then they’re real.

“I’m sorry.” Is all Luke had to offer, and Kylo did huff out a laugh then.

“Yeah I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes, walked around the desk to look at some of the books Luke kept in the personal study. He wasn’t really reading them, didn’t care much for the names on the spines. He just wanted to appear interested, didn’t want to look like he was stalling.

“He shouldn’t have done what he did, shouldn’t have been so absent. Neither of them should have. But murder isn’t always the answer.” Luke placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a comforting gesture that he tried his very best not to shake away.

“Maybe not, but it is the one that feels the most satisfying.” He checked his watch, worried about the time.

The timing of this whole fucking mess had to be perfect, had to go over just so, this more than anything.

“I’m very surprised to see you, all things considering.” Luke said, removing his hand when it became awkward and uncomfortable.

Kylo sighed, ran a hand through his hair. He wanted a cigarette, wanted to be close to you. You were just there, just on the other side of the door in the office, and it was all Kylo could do to not rush to your side.

“I wanted to start this off right. I wanted to give them the best chance of being the happiest they can be. That’s all.” He said truthfully, quietly.

“So they’ll go to Hebrew school then? Get Mitzvah’d?” Luke prompted, and Kylo did give a genuine smile then.

“God willing.” He replied, making the rabbi tsk and shake his head.

“You know you’re not supposed to say that.” He admonished, and Kylo only shrugged.

“Just like old times.” He mused, before deciding you had officially been given enough time, and turning to the old man who stood before him. “Thanks Uncle Luke.”

Luke only nodded, and opened the door for him.

You were sitting in your chair, seemingly not having had moved a muscle, still scrolling through your phone. If Kylo looked close enough, he’d see you were browsing through Pinterest for nursery ideas, and that made his chest warm.

“Sorry honey, let’s go.” Kylo broke the calm silence, and you pretended to be startled in a way that had him so in love with you, so in love with how fucking crafty and cunning you could be.

You stood at the arrival of the men and gathered your things in your arms for all of a moment before Kylo took them from you so you wouldn’t have to carry them.

“Everything alright?” You whispered to Kylo, mostly a show. Kylo nodded and bent down to kiss you, felt the life breathe back into his lungs from the way you hummed gently against his lips, before you broke the kiss and turned back to Luke with a small dose of embarrassment. “Thank you again.”

“Be careful, both of you.” Luke said, before sitting at the desk and tending to whatever paperwork and duties you had interrupted.

You bid him goodbye and walked in comfortable silence with Kylo until you were far enough away from the temple to be overheard by eager ears.

While the two of you waited for Dopheld to pull up in the Bentley, you rummaged through your purse and plucked out the small steel case you had stolen from Luke’s office. One of the many secrets hidden away in those bookshelves, were novels that had the pages cut away to leave small recesses for small objects like this.

Small, lethal objects.

“You’re terribly smart, you know that?” You bumped your hip against his playfully, a great big smile on your lips, looking entirely like the cat that got the cream.

“I do.” He teased right back, praise turning him warm and making him fill with pride. “He doesn’t know I know about it, they’re supposed to be kept there for safekeeping.”

You opened the case and admired the bullets, the way they shone. The glossy coating had an almost purple sheen to it, and Kylo could tell you almost wanted to pick one up, wanted to touch it. But you knew better, knew that once that poison stuck to your skin there was too high of a risk that it could do harm, too difficult for it to come off.  

“This is a nasty way for her to die.” You closed the case, put it safely back in your purse and slid your arms around his neck, kissing him right there on the sidewalk, as Dopheld pulled up.

“Well the way I see it, we can either poison or drown the rat.” He mused, opening the door to the car and offering a steadying hand for you as you climbed in.

“We have to trap her first.” You replied as you settled easily in your spot, pulled flush against Kylo’s side as he sat and closed the car door behind him.

“Yes.” He agreed, winding his arm around your waist and sighing happily as you pressed small kisses to his chin and cheek, “It’s a good thing you’re wearing black.”

 To say that he was stepping into a hornet’s nest was an understatement. At least, if the cold glares that were shot over the shoulders of the Hux family were anything to go by. Kylo readjusted his grip on your hand, and he could practically feel the hatred oozing out of the Irish mob that had come together to mourn one of their own.

You watched carefully, poised and ready to strike if the need should arise. Afterall, the last time you had come in contact with them, it had resulted with Roisin dead in a car on her way to the hospital. They watched back just as carefully, an illusion of peace in this time of great sorrow. Sorrow for them, anyway.

The funeral ceremony hadn’t yet begun, not officially. The place was packed, absolutely jam packed, to pay their respects to the poor unfortunate soul which laid at the front of the great big room. Kylo led you down the nave up to the open casket, careful to have the signet ring hidden, careful to have it tucked into your pocket, not on display in front of all of them.

It was deadly silent, in the church. That oppressive silence like lightning about to strike, thunder about to crack. You had not come to start trouble, Kylo knew this. No, the trouble had already been started, had been instigated by one of their own.

Kylo had only returned the favor.

Despite being so used to murder, so faced with it in his line of work, his lifestyle, it always was a sore sight to see. The man in the casket’s sharp features were somehow so soft, now that life had been whisked away from him. His orange hair somehow gained more vibrancy, more life, now that it had been properly washed and cleaned, not a mess of product.

“He was beautiful.” You had to admit, “In a severe kind of way.”

Kylo would much rather look at you, any day of the week.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Hux materialized at Kylo’s side, nearly vibrating with restrained rage.

Kylo couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a brother killed – let alone a twin brother. He figured he would know the pain of losing a sister, but William truly was an unfortunate accident. If he were a kind man, he would have apologized then and there, would offer some sort of words of comfort.

But he was, in fact, not a kind man.

“If you still want Hell’s Kitchen, you’re more than welcome to have it.” You said softly, so softly, not taking your eyes off William, the much more gentle of the two Hux brothers.

William had always been an open secret, and you had never harbored any ill will over the man. You even shed a tear for the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheek, Kylo watched it slip down the side of your nose.

Hux looked at the two of you, and without releasing a breath he turned on his heel and snapped his finger for the two of you to follow him.

Kylo didn’t appreciate being beckoned like some animal, it brought him too many memories of the days where Snoke – he shook the thought from his head, steals a steadying squeeze of your hand, before holding open a door for you to pass through, out of the main room and down a dimly lit hallway which led to a small room that appeared to be the place where the children of the congregation were taught. Kylo didn’t know for sure, he wasn’t familiar with this layout.

“What do you want in exchange?” Hux asked, not facing either of you, not wanting you to see how affected he was by this death.

“My sister has gone out of control, she’s the one who murdered your brother.” Kylo spoke up, a lie which did its job in shocking the man into whipping his head around and taking two big strides to get entirely in Kylo’s personal space as he continued, “We need you to help us take her out. Avenge William’s death and get her out of our hair.”

Kylo had never noticed just how steely Hux’s eyes were, had never gotten close enough to look. They were red-rimmed, and that made the stormy blue-green-grey stand out even more, even in the low light of the empty classroom. He would agree with you, they were handsome brothers, if yes a little severe.

“A man who desires revenge should dig two graves.” Hux hissed, his teeth bared, face shaking.

“Will you do it?” Kylo really fucking hated repeating himself, but, if all went well, he won’t have to answer to Hux anymore, won’t have to answer to anyone anymore.

“Why all of a sudden?” Hux demanded, breathing hard, anger coursing through him. “What’s changed now?”

You were watching from Kylo’s side, watching to make sure Hux didn’t slide a dagger into Kylo’s ribs like he’s wont to do – always a fan of carving people up, that one was.

“She’s not one of us anymore, and she knows too much. She’s done too much. I’m more than happy to take care of her myself, but I thought as a sign of good faith, you might like to help since she’s been as much a thorn in your side as mine.” You said, taking over for Kylo, who, frankly, wanted to kill the weasel right there.

But just as Rey was useful for a time, so could Hux be.

“Where?” Hux asked, making Kylo’s plan only that much easier.

“The docks.” You replied, and then already anticipating his next questions, “Tonight, a quarter to nine.”

“That’s not enough time.” Hux shook his head, stepping back away from Kylo’s personal space finally. Kylo didn’t give him the satisfaction of making a show of how relieved he was.

“That’s all the time we have.” Kylo spoke up honestly.

“Quarter to nine.” You reiterated, “Be there, or consider Hell’s Kitchen off the table, permanently.”

The three of you stared down one another, stared and stared and stared, stared and waited for him to agree. Kylo could cut the tension with a knife, if he had one. Instead all he had were guns strapped to his chest ready to be fired at any moment.

“Quarter to nine.” Hux eventually agreed, a curt nod of his head.

The church bells chimed, and that was your cue to leave.

You held Kylo’s hand tightly and made your way out back into the hallway, pausing just before you were fully out to turn back and regard the mob boss with genuinely sad eyes.

“Mr. Hux?” You asked for his attention for just a moment more to say, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

                                                     ----------------------

It was pouring rain, when Kylo snuck you out of the church through a side exit, where Dopheld was waiting with an open umbrella. He was close behind you as you rushed under the shelter of the downpour, the water freezing cold in the autumn wind.

The weather had taken a dramatic turn, but one that would be beneficial for the main event tonight, one that would aid in his plan. Because of Dopheld’s quick thinking and preparedness, you had not a drop of water on you, and you snuggled up to Kylo’s side happily, digging through your purse.

You always kept on your person a small film cannister, one of the dark plastic ones that protected film from the harmful rays of the sun. However, instead of 35mm negative, it rattled with small chips, little plastic cards that you poured onto your hand, leaved through with your nail.

Kylo watched in awe as you found the one you were looking for, and as Dopheld zipped through the streets, you popped it into the burner phone Kylo handed you. You both watched as the phone powered on, a blank thing that only was ever used for times like this, plans like these.

You scrolled through the list of contact on the sim card, stopped when you found the name you were looking for.

Kylo was always amazed with the speed that you could type at. He hated shit dealing with phones, hated it. He didn’t like calling, and while he preferred texting, he didn’t actually like texting. His fingers were too big for the buttons, he was convinced.

But he looked over your shoulder, rested his chin there, nuzzled his cheek against yours.

Shayna punim, can you do me a favor tonight?

Your finger was hovering over the keyboard, waiting to send a reply as soon as the text came through, ready to spring, ready to get this over with.

Rey was a notoriously fast texter as well, and it was only a matter of the traffic light turning green for a response to be sent.

Is everything okay Ima?

You smiled wide, and Kylo could feel the excitement bubbling up in him. It was really happening, he was really going to get the chance to do it, to do the one thing he had been waiting years for.

You typed back quickly, but no so quickly that it would be suspicious, Leia wasn’t exactly the world’s finest technology expert, and it usually took her a short moment to respond anyway.

Yes, sorry it’s so last minute, I’m expecting a delivery from the furrier we know, you know the nice Italian fellow?

Ma I didn’t know you were still running business ???

If anyone asks, I’m not.

When do you need me there?

8:55 sharp. Boat will show up at nine. Don’t tell Kylo. Delete these texts – we never had this conversation.

I love you.

I love you too.

 You deleted the text messages from the burner phone, and powered it off so the GPS wouldn’t be able to be tracked. Kylo watched as you popped the sim card out of the burner phone, and tucked everything back into its place inside your bag.

“Do you think she’ll do it?” He asked softly, reaching for you, hand grasping around your wrist, just feeling your pulse.

“She’ll do it.” You nodded, turning your body towards him, tugging on his earlobe playfully with your free hand before sighing, “But I have to go to the police before she does, we need alibis.”

Kylo groaned loudly in the backseat of the Bently, thudding his head on your shoulder. This was his least favorite part of the plan – the part where you two had to split up. You had to be bait, had to be a distraction, one convincing enough to stall for time.

“Honey can’t we literally do anything else?” He complained, voice deep deep deep and aggravated. He wanted a cigarette, and cursed the rain for not letting him open the car window without him getting soaked.

“No darling, I have to distract them so you can take care of the job.” You kissed his face sweetly, kissed him to calm him down. “You need to rough me up. I’ll go in saying I got robbed.” You announced, making him pull back.

“I love you but are you out of your mind?” He frowned, now desperately needing a fucking cigarette.

“Kylo, please?” You whined, pouted as if he were being mean for denying you this, “Just make it look like someone attacked me.”

“That would mean I have to attack you, and no.” Kylo was firmly resolute in this, and you knew it. He knew you knew it.

“Well I very well can’t punch myself in the face, that’s not very realistic.” You complained, before getting that look in your eye, a look of an idea that Kylo knew meant trouble. “Dopheld, pull over.”

“No, absolutely not.” Kylo shook his head at once, shooting daggers of a glare at the poor driver who was now glancing back with concern.

“Dopheld, please, pull over somewhere dark.” You said, and fuck, dammit all, the nice boy was doing as he was told, albeit it with shaking hands.

He pulled into an alleyway that he happened to know, another one of your little hiding spots that Kylo kept under control. There was just enough cover there that you didn’t get immediately drenched when you left the warm comfort of the car to go stand expectantly, Kylo clamoring out to meet you.

Dopheld got out of the car too, and waited for whatever insane order you were going to give next.

And insane it was, because you lifted your chin and squared your shoulders, looked your driver dead in the eye and asked, “Can you please attack me?”

Dopheld was shocked, stunned even. Kylo appreciated that about the boy.

“…Excuse me?” He squeaked out, swallowing a hard lump in his throat, clutching his little hat in his hands, trying to avoid getting rained on.

“Attack me, knock me to the ground, you know.” You gestured with your hands, presented yourself to him with open palms to show you wouldn’t retaliate. You needed to be injured convincingly, needed to have some reason to go to the police – but this was just out of the realm of possibility for what Kylo was willing to allow.

“Dopheld don’t you fucking dare.” Kylo growled, and now the poor boy was torn.

“Oh gosh I don’t – ” His hands rung the hat in front of him, but you sighed.

“This is a direct order Dopheld.” You reminded him, not unkindly.

“Dopheld if you lay one finger on her I’ll cut it off and I’m not kidding.” Kylo hissed, definitely unkindly.

“Fuck you’re both so scary I don’t know what to do!” He finally lamented, pacing back and forth, weighing his options.

“Kylo go back in the car.” You kissed your husband’s cheek, making him scoff.

“No!” He shook his head. He knew you only wanted him in the car so he wouldn’t immediately strangle the kid, wouldn’t immediately snap the bones in his hands for harming you. But it wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t --

“Ahh!” Dopheld shouted and lunged forward, fist swinging as he jumped at you, knocked you to the filthy pavement of the alley, already apologizing, shocked with his behavior. “I’m so sorry, oh my god I’m so sorry Mrs. Ren.”

Kylo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and hoisted him up against the wall of the alley, fully prepared to choke the life out of him.

“Kylo put him down.” You ordered from the floor, voice firm but powerful, “Kylo, I mean it.”

He dropped the boy and immediately helped you up, brought you to your feet and brushed the wet gravel away from your beautiful body. Dopheld had gotten you pretty good, hit you in the nose hard enough to make it bleed even though it thankfully wasn’t broken.

Still, the sight of you in any state other than perfect bliss was like murder to Kylo’s own heart, and though you had demanded it, though you had explicitly asked for it, he can still feel the white hot pulse of rage creep up around his eyes.

“I don’t like seeing you like this.” Kylo’s body shakes, pent up rage, angry angry angry at the way your blood is dark and glinting in the streetlamps.

When had the sun set, he wonders? Had time really flown by so much between all the errands and the traffic that it was already time to part? His anxiety spiked, he didn’t want to be away from you, he didn’t want to have you sitting like a duck surrounded by those fucking cops.  

“I know honey, I know, but it’s going to be for the better, I promise.” You soothed him, sensing his distress with the way his breath was coming in short sharp pants.

He crushed you to his chest, wrapped his arms around you, that wild monstrous thing in him just wanting to kill, wanting to maim, wanting to coax forth blood on the streets. You knew, and you didn’t discourage it, only redirected it, reminded him that this energy could be used productively, could be used wisely.

“Thank you Dopheld, now take me to the station.” You said, ushering everyone back into the car.

                                                     ----------------------

Dopheld stopped the car about a block away from the precinct. It had been decided that you would walk, through the rain, without your purse, without anything, to give the illusion that you had had all your belongings stolen. Kylo had asked Dopheld to pull over so you could go through all the weapons on your person and removed them, that way if the cops searched you they wouldn’t find anything interesting.

Your nose was still bleeding, and Kylo was still seeing red.

“Listen to me.” You whispered, cupping his cheeks with your palms, kissing him and smearing your blood in his mustache, your lips smudging your words against his own, “I know you. I know how you are. Just kill her and come back to me, do you understand?”

“Okay.” He nodded, already thinking about when he’ll be able to be by your side again.

He wanted to get this over with quickly, efficiently. His part was only one small piece to this, the initial piece, he couldn’t take too much time with it, otherwise he’d be a suspect, he’d be suspicious.

“I know this means a lot to you, we can celebrate once the dust has settled, but I cannot under any circumstances have you put yourself in a position where you’ll get caught.” You read his mind, whispered as though no one in the whole world could hear but him.

“I know.” He nodded, a shuddering breath calming him enough to get the rush of blood to stop pounding in his ears for all of two minutes as he agreed, “I’ll kill her and come right to you.”

You kiss him passionately, strongly, your mouth a force to be reckoned with as it opened for you. He could taste the blood on your teeth, licked up in a frenzy, like some shark sensing its prey. But you were no prey, not by a long shot, and you kissed him like you owned him – because you did.

“I love you so much, I’m so in love with you.” You were almost in tears with emotion, real, true, genuine emotion, as your hands smoothed down his suit jacket and your eyes shone with pride as you laid it obvious to him with, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t be proud of me yet.” Kylo only had the strength to let you go just this once, and he knew if he didn’t let you leave now, he never would, and you would both just have to flee the country and deal with these consequences another time. “Now go. I’ll be back soon.”

There could not be another time, the clock was ticking, Kylo knew. He checked his watch.

You give him one more kiss for reassurance, and then you’re out the door. Not taking an umbrella, not taking your purse – hell, not even taking your coat against the bitter frigid rain, you walked proudly and unflinchingly through the downpour, towards the station.

Kylo and Dopheld watched and waited until they could not see you anymore, until you were firmly so far out of their sight that the race really had begun.

“Mr. Ren?” Dopheld’s voice piped up from the driver’s seat, his eyes concerned in the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” Kylo ground out, his gaze steadily tracked on the way the water sleeted down against the windows of the bentley.

“For what it’s worth, it’s been an honor to be your driver, sir.” Dopheld said with a sigh, and Kylo frowned, wondering what the hell he could mean until – oh. Right.

“I’m not going to kill you, Dopheld.” He assured the boy, with more gentles than he would probably have given, were he not genuinely a nice and competent kid.

“Oh!” The relief in Dopheld’s voice was almost enough to make Kylo smile, that pure unadulterated joy at getting to live another day. It wasn’t something Kylo was used to hearing, wasn’t an experience those who dealt with him were used to having, but still that joy is there, and Dopheld puts the car in drive once more, pulls away from the side-street where you were no longer visible. “Thank you, sir.”

“To the docks, please.” Kylo said, hands curling around the empty space where your body should be.

Soon, he thought to himself, soon he’ll be back with you.

That’s all he wanted, was to be with you.

 They were silent in the car on the drive over. Kylo busied himself by loading up his guns, gloves on and careful to avoid getting the poison which coated the bullets anywhere near his skin. There wasn’t enough to fully load both his guns, so he filled the remainder with normal bullets. If he were in the mood to be dramatic, he’d make a game of it, a Russian roulette style death.

But there was no time to be dramatic, not tonight. He didn’t mind so much, he’d be celebrating for the rest of his life anyway.

He checks his watch in the dark, as Dopheld pulls up to a side entrance down near the river, the ships still, the place empty except for the pounding of the rain. The rain was good, it meant no one would be there, no one who shouldn’t be there, anyway. He didn’t need any witnesses fucking this up.

He gets out of the car without a word, hangs back underneath the shelter of a large storage shipping container. Hadn’t you once told him that rich people were converting those into tiny houses or something? He didn’t know, but he felt like it would be terribly fucking uncomfortable for him, he nearly was as tall as the damn thing.

He checked his watch again, and when the clock read exactly a quarter-til, Hux stepped out of the shadows, an umbrella over his head. Kylo wasn’t surprised, Hux was in the same suit he had seen him in earlier, no doubt having just come from the funeral.

“When?” Hux asked by way of greeting, wanting his revenge, wanting it now.

“Ten minutes.” Kylo replied, and Hux nodded.

Hux looked so eerie, standing there under a lamp post, the rain beating down on him. Kylo wondered if he painted such a picture, if he were so intimidating. If you were there you would have told him, he knew Hux would never give him the satisfaction.

“What are you going to do?” Hux asked, genuinely curious, from across the dock.

“I’m going to shoot her.” Kylo shrugged, and Hux’s face pinched up in anger.

“That’s not fucking fair.” He scoffed, but Kylo rolled his eyes, wondered if Hux could see.

“It won’t kill her, it’s only going to slow things down.” He explained, and Hux took a step forward, as if he were about to whisper a secret to Kylo and not shout it across the dock through the rain.

“She’s the rat, isn’t she?” He asked.

Kylo didn’t want to dignify that with a response. It was bad enough having a rat in the family like Han had been, openly blatantly selling his family out to the highest bidder. But it was even worse to have two rats, the second one much more secretive, stealthy, conniving. To have it happen under a cloak under your nose, to have it go on for years and years and be totally unaware.

“Make it painful.” He said instead, and even from across the dock, Kylo could see the fury in his eyes.

“After what she did to William?” Hux shook his head, “She’ll be unrecognizable.”

And with that, both men retreated to the shadows once more, only having to wait a few more minutes before this plan could come to fruition.

 Rey showed up at exact eight-fifty-five, as you had instructed her to. And, stupidly, it looked like she didn’t bring any backup. But why would she, when she was just meeting with a furrier her mother had arranged? She stood with her umbrella near the edge of the dock, watching water slosh up against the concrete barrier, the river tide rising from the rain. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough to capture her attention long enough for Kylo to take in a deep breath.

Without wasting any more time, he stepped out from behind the big shipping crate, walked across the dock to stand underneath a streetlamp. She didn’t hear him for a moment, the sound of the rain too heavy around her. It was only the sound of the gun trigger being cocked that caught her attention – that sound was impossible to miss.

She turned around, and held her breath. She had to have known that this was coming, you had done a good enough job of telling her she was caught. Maybe she had anticipated you waiting longer? Maybe she had thought you would have controlled Kylo?

On either account, she was wrong.

“What are you doing here?” She asked anyway, as if she didn’t know.

“Picking up some furs.” Kylo replied.

He fired all ten rounds in the glock straight into her. The silencer he had attached to the end of the gun was almost pointless, as thunder cracked and lightning split across the sky.

If he were a more religious man, Kylo thought that maybe this tempest would be a sign of his wrongdoing. But he was not, and it read far more like a celebration of his actions than anything else.

Rey fell to the ground immediately, clutching at her wounds. There was so much blood, it poured absolutely fucking everywhere, but the rain washed it away, washed it down the dock and into the river. The poison on the bullets paralyzed her enough that she couldn’t scream, something which Kylo was grateful for. He didn’t need the police being alerted early, didn’t need them being told ahead of schedule what was going on.

Kylo walked across the way to where his snake of a sister writhed on the floor, and crouched down next to her.

“You should have been smarter than this.” He shook his head.

He took his token from the kill, as he always did, and wrapped it neatly in a handkerchief before he stood again and turned towards the shipping container where he knew Hux was waiting, watching.

“All yours.” He said to the man, gave him a nod in his direction.

He could see the cleavers that Hux held, could see how they shone polished steel in the night.

And without another word, he made his way back to the car where Dopheld was ready with a clean pair of clothes and a cigarette.

                                                     ----------------------

He’s in a proper frenzy, by the time he made it to the precinct. The kill wasn’t one nearly as torturous as some of his others, not nearly as drawn out, as painful. But he was still flying high, his adrenaline pumping in his veins. He had done it, he had fucking done it. He was exhausted but exhilarated at the same time and he knew there would be a shitstorm ahead of him for it, he knew there would be consequences for it – but this one, this one thing, these fucking cops, wouldn’t be one of them.

He was in a clean suit when he barged into the station, and it wasn’t difficult for him to play the part of a concerned, angry husband. It wasn’t difficult for him to storm through the bullpen like he owned the place, wasn’t difficult for him to get foaming at the mouth furious at the thought that someone had ambushed you.

“Where the fuck is my wife?” He shouted, not giving a shit about anything, not caring about one bit.

The world needed to know that no one fucked with you, and though this was all staged, though this was all fake – that message was one thing he wanted absolutely crystal fucking clear.

“Mr. Ren! Please – sir you must – ” One of the cops he didn’t recognize tried to stop him, but Kylo shoved him away.

“(Y/N)? – You!” Kylo caught sight of one of the police officers, Poe, one of the ones he needed to keep occupied for a little while longer. Poe took stock of Kylo’s rage and decided that now was not the time to employ petty banter. “Where the fuck is she? What happened to her? Is she alright?”

With each step that he takes that isn’t closer to you, he begins to grow panicked for real, begins to worry for real. Poe just walked, walked and walked back through the station, leading Kylo to you, to where you were.

“She’s okay Kylo, where have you been? She’s been asking for you.” Poe sounded genuinely concerned, like he actually cared for once in his life.

That wasn’t fair, Kylo thought, many people cared about you. It was Kylo that Poe had a problem with, he never wanted you to know any harm.

“I was packing our bags, we’ve got tickets to fly to Paris tonight – take me to her?” Kylo lied.

It wasn’t entirely a lie, the bags were packed and the flight for Paris was in only a couple hours. Kylo wondered absentmindedly if there was blood underneath his fingernails.

Poe led him to an interrogation room where you were bundled up in blankets and given a mug of tea to keep warm, but the first sight of him, you abandon all of that and practically throw yourself into his arms. Finn was there with you, paperwork in front of him, no doubt going through the notions of filling out a police report.

When you and Kylo kissed, it was like the world slowed, like the orbit came to a halt, and nothing existed in time and space other than the way you shuddered against his lips, the way your arms wound around his shoulders.

“Honey, tell me everything, who did this to you?” Kylo asked, playing the part, keeping up the act.

You hiccupped and cried, cried and cried crocodile tears in front of the officers, in front of Finn and Poe who tried to avert their gaze to give you both some privacy as you made out.

“I think it was one of the Hux family, when they hit me their ring fell off, see?” You pointed to the ring that was wrapped up in an evidence bag on the table, asked for it. Finn gave it to you so you could hold it up to Kylo, so Kylo could see the ring that he had given you only the evening before, and you asked, “That’s their crest isn’t it?”

He pretends to not know for a moment or two, before groaning, before giving the ring back to Finn.

“It is, fuck (Y/N), you could have been killed.” He held your face between his hands, eyes searching yours.

He found nothing but perfect clarity there, and he tried to express nothing but the same.

If you could just get out of here, if you could just get on your private jet and fly off to Paris, then you would have won this game of cat and mouse, a game years in the playing.

“Can we go home?” You asked so sweetly, so softly, so sadly, that Kylo wanted nothing more than to whisk you away, especially as you gestured to the clothes which were now wrinkled in odd places from the drying rain. “I want to shower I feel disgusting.”

“Not yet, I’m sorry, we need to ask a few more questions.” Finn shook his head sympathetically, and you groaned.

“Can’t we answer them in the morning?” You asked, but this time Kylo shook his head.

“No honey, better do it now. We won’t be here in the morning.” He agreed with Finn, making you frown.

“What do you mean?” You asked, worried for a moment – worried that something had gone wrong, worried that the plan hadn’t worked.

But it had, and the look on your face, the pure shock, the real surprise of the evening when he pulled out the brochure and plane tickets for Paris, was the icing on the cake.

“Happy anniversary.” He said, kissing you, kissing you so softly that again Poe and Finn had to look away.

“Kylo! Shit, this flight is soon, darling you should have told me I would have packed – ” You were honestly so excited, nearly dropping the act, nearly forgetting yourself in front of the officers with the way you perked up.

“That’s what I was doing, I’m sorry I didn’t hear my phone.” Kylo said, which was a lie, but not really. The phone had been turned off so tracking wasn’t an issue, he still hadn’t turned it back on.

Just then, a random police officer stuck their head in the interrogation room, with a look of panic on her face.

“Officers Dameron, we need you right away.” She regarded Finn and Poe with a great deal of concern, and against their better judgement, they looked at one another and then back at you.

“Okay, you can go. Enjoy your flight and please, stay safe.” Finn said, placing a hand on your shoulder, collecting up the the paperwork and the ring that would lead them straight to Hux.

“Thank you Finn.” You said with watery eyes, grateful for his kindness.

And also maybe his naivety.

Kylo draped his coat over your shoulders to shield you from view, to shield you from the rain as he led you through the precinct. He wanted to tell you everything, wanted to show you, wanted to fuck you. He never felt this good after a killing, never felt this on fire after a murder.

But he waited, waited and waited and waited until Dopheld had the car door safely closed behind the two of you and you were barreling down the streets of Manhattan to the executive airport, where your private jet would whisk you away, and the troubles of life would be far behind – at least for a little while.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, eager, dropping all pretense of a damsel in distress, wiping your eyes with the back on your hand and letting a big grin split across your face.

“Let’s get you to Paris.” Kylo nodded, before he surged forward to kiss you.

As they drove down the rainy, ice covered streets, an entire team of police were heading the opposite direction, down towards the river, towards the docks.

                                                     ----------------------

It wasn’t until many many many hours later, when the connecting flights had been made on your private jets which had been prepared for a long sleep, when you had checked into the penthouse apartment in Paris, when you had fucked like rabbits and showered, changed into clean pajamas and crawled back into bed right when the sun was rising, did you bring it up.

The world around you bustled, people waking up and starting their day just as Kylo was content to sleep through it, jetlagged like he’d never been jetlagged before. It had been a long day, one of the longest days he’d had in a long fucking time. Hell, it’d been one of the longest weeks he’d ever had, he was sure.

But you smiled at him, you tucked yourself against his chest and smiled at him, and it was like the fatigue of it all felt a million miles away.

“How does it feel to win?” You asked, with the sunshine of the morning in Paris coming through the soft gauzy white curtains, making the entire room glow ethereal.

“Incredible.” He breathed out, because it did, it really really did.

“It’s the beginning of a new age for us, for all of us. You did that, you gave that to us.” You rolled him over, rolled the two of you onto your sides.

A beam of sunlight illuminated your face, and Kylo, the ever dutiful and loving husband he always had wanted to be, shifted so that his head would provide some shade for you. You grinned, grasped his hand and kissed his wedding ring, the only ring he wore.

“My entire life, all I’ve ever wanted…was to love you and make you proud.” Kylo whispered, an admission that he wasn’t one to make very often.

You sighed dreamily, nothing but pure love in your gaze as the soft sounds of bustling tourist traffic sounded outside the window on the streets below, people milling about the Eiffel Tower which you could see from your bed in the penthouse.

“There isn’t a day that goes by where I’m not proud of you, Kylo.” You tell him truthfully, made Kylo’s heart beat that much quicker as you pulled him down for a kiss, kissed him again and again, over and over, “My handsome, strong, capable, intelligent, wonderful, Kylo Ren.”

You looked at the token on the night stand, the little round thing in a glass jar. Kylo followed your gaze, and felt the rush of victory surge through him all over again. He was too exhausted to be able to do anything other than kiss you, too tired to really have the celebration he wanted.

So instead, he kissed you, held your face in his hands and smothered you with his love.

“They say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” Kylo chuckled against your lips, a terrible pun at the expense of his sister. The attempt at humor made you beam, made you practically fucking fly over the moon, to hear him laugh.

“Yes,” You agreed, because they did say that. And it might have been true, it might have been, “But only if each eye is yours.” You winked.

 When the week was over, Kylo would bring you home. He’d bring you home and you’d face the storm of whatever was to come. But in that moment, with the sun shining and the birds chirping, with his dead traitor of a sister’s unblinking gaze put away in a drawer in a nightstand in Paris, Kylo found that he didn’t even need to check his watch.

Instead, he simply let himself be wrapped up in you, his best friend, his lover, his wife.

                                                   ----------------------

Epilogue will be up tomorrow!  @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos​  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee​ @riseofkylo​ @magikevalynn​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @chelsjnov​ @romancedeldiablo​ @helloimindelaware​ @elfieboxcat​ @laurenshit​ @autumnlovesadam​ @peterisparker​ @mp938368 @hidingp​ @goodboybensolo​ @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic​ @miasera​ @emily-strange @proxyfoxy​ @insanita​ @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​ 

[donteattheappleshook]

Some Fairytale Bliss AKA: Deflowering the Deckhand

Thanks @kmomof4 for betaing and to everyone in the CSSNS discord for help with the title/puns

Set during Operation Mongoose: Part 2. Emma decides to teach the shy deckhand a thing or two about swordplay. Mostly just smut. 

@snowbellewells because you asked :)

On Ao3

Trigger Warning: Brief mention of a past dub-con/underage loss of virginity. Everything that happens in this fic is fully consensual

-/-

Emma sits in the captain’s quarters, thrown by how familiar and different it somehow feels all at once. She’s been here so many times, has slept in that bed, sat on that desk trying to distract Killian from whatever he was writing in his journal. The room is the same as it always is but somehow just not quite right. She doesn’t know if it’s because the Author and Gold have never been in this cabin before, and had had to make it up based on what they imagined and what was in the original story book, or if it’s because in this reality, Blackbeard is the captain of the Jolly Roger. 

So many things are the same, the wood, the furniture, the deep tapestries and rugs that adorn the floor and the walls, even the comforter on the bed beneath her is right, the same silky feel under her fingers. But the objects on the desk, the little bits of treasure that Killian had collected throughout his life and cared enough about to decorate his space with are missing. As is his brother’s sextant. And his books. It’s eerie and wrong to look at that empty shelf where both have always sat. 

She shivers. She needs to get them back to their world, get Killian back to who he is, her parents too. That’s been harder than anything, knowing that her parents are evil in this realm, that they’re trying to kill Henry, that they’ll certainly kill her if they can. Everyone here is so different. But especially Killian. More than anything Killian. This version of him, he’s so shy, so sweet and so nervous, nothing of his usual swagger and confidence remaining. And the goat’s milk. Don’t get her started on the goat’s milk. 

A smile pulls at her lip as she remembers the expression on his face when she’d defeated Lily, so excited, so anxious, but proud - of her. She remembers how he’d looked when she’d bumped into him in the tower too. He’d been dazed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked at her with no recognition but with the same awe, the same longing that her Killian so often looked at her with. 

The difference this time was that while he looked at her as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he also looked at her as though she were the only, the first woman he’d ever held in his arms. 

But she’d seen that desire too, that longing as he’d held her against him, but she could tell he didn’t know what to do with it, it had made him flustered and awkward as he pulled away to shake her hand, but not before she felt the hardness pressing against her. 

He’d jumped back like she’d burned him, no quip or comment or flirtation, not even a wandering hand. He was a deer in the headlights, panicked and confused and so nervous. It had been confusing, but endearing too. 

There’s a knock on the door and Emma looks up, asks who’s there, which feels ridiculous because there are only two other people on the ship, both of whom are welcome in the room with her. 

“It’s Killian,” his voice answers, muffled through the door. “I’ve, um, I’ve found you some clothes,” he stutters. 

“Come in.”

The door creaks open slowly, hesitantly, and Killian steps through, shoulders hunched and head hanging down, looking at the floor as he cradles some pants and a shirt neatly folded against his chest. 

“You don’t have to ask to come into your own cabin, you know,” she tells him and he flushes, his hand coming to scratch behind his ear in a way that’s so familiar it makes her heart ache a little. She’ll get him back, she tells herself. 

“Perhaps,” he starts slowly, “in your world this is my cabin. But it is certainly not in this one.” He clears his throat, holding the clothes out to her and she takes them from him, their fingers brushing as she does. He pulls his hand back quickly as his cheeks flame. 

“Thank you,” she tells him, trying to catch his eye but he won’t look at her. She steps past him, locking the door so that Henry won’t come down and walk in on her changing - that boy doesn’t need any more traumatic teenager memories, Storybrooke does just fine in providing him enough of those. He’s up at the helm, sailing them back to the Enchanted Forest, but it’s better to be careful. 

She sets the clothes down on the bed and starts to undress, working at the awkward, cumbersome buttons and fastenings of this land’s fashion. She misses her jeans. She hears a startled sound and looks up to see Killian staring at her, looking equal parts stunned and then ashamed when he meets her eye. He stumbles over his words, saying that he’ll leave her to get changed.

“You don’t have to go,” she tells him, raising a brow and he freezes. He looks like he very much wants to stay, but also like he very much wants to run out of here, leaving a Killian shaped hole in the door. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says casually. Or touched, or kissed or licked, her thoughts supply. 

He clears his throat, looks back down at the floor. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember if I had,” he says and she smiles a little. Look at him, she thinks, that was almost flirting, almost a compliment. She continues undressing and he doesn’t leave but continues to stare at the floor. 

“What’s the matter?” she asks, trying for gentle but maybe coming off a bit more annoyed than she means to. She’s basically told him that she doesn’t mind him watching her undress but he hasn’t made a single innuendo, hasn’t tried to touch her or even look at her. Instead he’s standing there looking scared and unsure of himself. 

“It’s, um, it’s not appropriate,” he says. “For me to look at you in a state of undress.” She hears him mumble something about propriety that she barely catches but it's the next thing he mumbles that makes her stop. She barely hears it, barely makes it out but she knows she heard the words ‘not worthy’ fall from his lips, a self-deprecating frown crossing his brow. 

“Killian,” she says, dropping her hands from the fastenings. “Look at me.” 

He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the wood below his feet for another moment and she waits, waits until slowly, he raises his eyes to hers, focused on her face and not the buttons she’s managed to unlatch at her breast. She holds his gaze and resumes her task. His eyes flicker down quickly to where the bodice of her dress is open and his eyes widen, his chest rising and falling with heavy, shaky breaths. 

She wonders then, not for the first time, exactly what backstory this version of him was given. He’s a deckhand, she knows that, and he’s allergic to rum and apparently a coward based on what Henry told her Blackbeard said. But as she thinks about the way he’s looking at her now, how he’d looked at her in the tower, had struggled to touch her, to even compliment her… holy shit. Was he a virgin? Did Gold make Captain Hook - the man who had seduced his wife away, made her fall in love with him - too afraid of speaking to women to ever have had one? 

“Killian,” she asks again, and he meets her eyes. “Have you ever seen a naked woman before?” He goes red again, a bashful, pained expression crossing his face as he looks down and shakes his head slowly.

“Only the mermaids,” he says quietly. “In Neverland,” he specifies. “And they were terrifying.” Emma remembers Killian using a wholly different word to describe the mermaids. 

She continues undressing, not asking him to look again, not wanting to force him into anything or make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. But he doesn’t leave and slowly, his eyes raise back up to her, following the movements of her hands as she sheds the outer layers of her dress until she’s left in only her corset and shift. 

She can see that he wants to look, to touch, but he’s afraid. Whether of not knowing how, of not being allowed to, she’s unsure, maybe both. But she can see the desire in his eyes, the pale blue swallowed by black, his lips parted, his breath uneven. She can even make out the tightening in his leather pants. But he still doesn’t move. Wow, Killian Jones, the virgin. 

She remembers Killian telling her about his first time. He was too young. She remembers that most of all. The men on Silver’s ship had brought him to a tavern and bought him a woman. He’d been nervous the whole time, awkward and unsure, could hear the men laughing and shouting crude things through the door. It had lasted two seconds and it was the worst two seconds of his life. It was awful. Neither he nor the woman had enjoyed it. 

She looks at him now, and she feels as though she’s looking at a younger version of him, one who’s unsure of himself, shy and sweet but still kind and brave despite what he thinks of himself. And the way he’s looking at her now, he may not be lusting after her the way Killian usually does, with desire and want and a clear intent of what he plans to do to her evident in his eyes… but he’s looking at her like she’s the freaking sun. Like he can’t look directly at her despite wanting to. There’s desire there and want but no plan, no idea what to do. And so he shrinks away. 

Emma bites her lip as she looks him over from head to toe. Yeah, she thinks, recognizing the ridiculousness of it all, she’s going to deflower Killian Jones. She’s going to give him a proper first time, find a way to erase the doubt and the self-loathing in his eyes and make him see himself for who he really is. 

Henry is sure to be above deck for another few hours sailing. She told him that she was going to change and then she was going to teach Killian swordplay - she smirks - so she’s not worried about any interruptions. Killian is still looking at her, looking at her as though she’s the most awe-inspiring thing he’s ever seen and she’s still fully clothed by her world’s standards. 

“Will you help me?” she asks, gesturing at the laces of her corset that are tied tightly behind her. She expects him to be flustered, to cough and stutter and shy away but instead he swallows, eyes raking over her. He clears his throat and nods, stepping forward. 

She turns around and he only hesitates for a moment as she gathers her hair and lifts it over her shoulder, his breath hitching, before he sets to work. He unlaces them painfully slowly, the sound of the string pulling through the loops the only sound in the room apart from their heavy breathing. It’s agony, a slow build up of tension as she feels his breath on her neck, his fingers warm where they touch her through the material of her shift and she wonders for a moment who exactly is supposed to be the blushing virgin right now. 

He finally gets all the laces undone and the corset falls to the floor. He hovers another moment and then steps back so she turns to face him. He casts his eyes to the floor again and she tells him it’s okay. He can look if he wants. His eyes drag slowly back up her shape, his breathing ragged again, though whether more from desire or nerves she doesn’t know. 

She smiles, knowing she can’t tease him, that this version of him couldn’t take it, no matter how much her Killian enjoys a challenge and a little word play. No, she’ll be sweet with him, with this man who is looking at her with reverence and awe. She pulls the laces of her shift free and it slowly slides to the floor with her dress. 

She’s naked now, standing before him fully clothed and the way he’s looking at her is causing goosebumps to rise on her skin, her nipples to tighten and the beginnings of an ache to stir between her legs. She’s never been someone’s first before but she’s going to treat it like the honour it is. Will take more care with him than Neal did with her, than that woman did with Killian. 

She sees his throat bob and his brow pull up as he looks at her. He looks at her like it physically hurts to do so, his hand clenching at his side, his erection evident in his leathers. It gives her confidence, how clearly he wants her. She steps forward and he stiffens, eyes snapping up to her face. 

“Do you want to touch me?” she asks. He doesn’t speak but he swallows again and nods. She smiles softly, takes his hand in hers and lifts it to her breast. She watches his face, the desire and the uncertainty and even the curiosity playing across it. He touches her for just a second, instinct taking over and she gasps, arching against his hand just a little. She knows that hand so well, knows what it can do, knows how it feels on every inch of her. 

He drops his hand, stepping back. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, worry and fear in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have -” 

She takes his hand again to stop him leaving, cuts off his apology. “It’s okay,” she tells him. “I liked it.”

His eyes go wide, shock and disbelief on his features. She lets his hand go, waits for him to make the next move. He steps towards her again, his hand raised between them, not quite sure of himself but a little more confident than he’d been a moment ago. But he’s still not touching her and she can tell he wants to say something, wants to ask her something. She waits until he’s ready. 

“Can I -” he starts, hesitates. Always hesitating. “May I kiss you?” he asks.  His voice is so low it’s practically a whisper, like he’s ashamed to ask. Her heart tightens. She wants to grab him and kiss the ever living hell out of him but she knows she can’t. This time, he really couldn’t handle it. 

He’s not looking at her so she says “yes.” He looks at her with both shock and relief, clearly having expected rejection. He steps forward again and she’s almost proud of him, thrilled to see he’s gaining confidence. He raises his hand to her cheek, brushes it softly with shaky fingers before curling into her hair and cupping her face. He steps forward again, into her space so that she can feel the heat of him, can feel his breath on her face, his forehead all but resting against hers and her body is screaming at her to just kiss him, but he pauses. 

“I don’t… I’ve never…” he starts and she can feel his resolve weakening, fears that he’s going to pull away. She knows she’ll have to take the lead with most things tonight. But she wants him to have this. Wants him to initiate this moment, to take what he wants and know that he did. She steps forward, their lips not quite brushing and tilts her head, hand on his chest, waiting for him to close the distance between them.

Yes! She thinks when he does. There’s a lack of finesse to the kiss, a lack of skill, or really any movement at all. He simply presses his lips to hers, inhales deeply and basks in the feel of her against him for a moment. 

He pulls away after a second and Emma’s worried that he’s going to stop, that he’ll let his self-doubt get the best of him and change his mind so she doesn’t give him the chance, leaning back in and kissing him again. It’s a little awkward as - after his initial shocked ‘oomph’ - he tries to figure out how to move his mouth over hers. She can feel his heart racing under her palm. 

But he’s a quick study, copying her movements at first and then slowly letting instinct take over until slowly he relaxes, letting himself fall into it. And he’s good at it. Maybe not as good as her Killian, but well on his way, enough that she can feel her blood heating and her body calling to him and she presses into him. 

He gasps and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into his mouth. And his reaction is amazing. For a second, he stops being the scared deckhand and he reaches for her, pulling her to him, tilting her head back so he can lick into her mouth, grinding against her hips, his hand all over. Emma gets lost in it, the feel of him pressed against her, his mouth on hers, his tongue and lips and teeth exploring and tasting and devouring and she needs more. 

She reaches for the buttons of his vest, undoes one, and he freezes, pulling back suddenly. She lets him but doesn’t allow him to move far, bringing her hand to his cheek. She spooked him, she realises, snapped him out of whatever daze of lust he’d been in and brought back all the doubt he has in himself. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she promises. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to. We can just keep doing this.” He looks at her and relaxes a little but he doesn’t seem to want to stop, leaning into her unwittingly. “But,” she starts tentatively. “I want to touch you too… if that’s alright.” He’s hesitant for another moment before he presses his forehead to hers and nods, a little eagerly too, which is sweet considering how unsure he is. 

She kisses him again, soothing him, letting him relax before she undoes the buttons of his vest, slowly, giving him time to change his mind, and then moves on to his shirt. He’s shaking when she’s done and she slides her hands over the sliver of revealed skin and hair. He gasps into her mouth again, stomach muscles jumping under her touch. She looks at him as she pushes the material from his shoulders, watching for any hint of discomfort or uncertainty but instead he just looks like he wants. He might not know what he wants but she’s excited for him to find out.

The shirt falls to the floor and she slides her fingers back up his arms, his own coming to her hip and she fiddles with the straps of his brace, not sure what he’d prefer. Killian takes it off sometimes, leaves it on others, it depends on how much of a rush they’re in really. But the Killian in front of her looks unsure, he hesitates. 

“It’s - It’s not pretty,” he tells her. 

“We can leave it on, if you want.” She doesn’t tell him that she’s seen it because she knows that doesn’t matter. What matters is that this version of him hasn’t shown it to her and she leaves that his decision to make. After a moment, he raises his hands to the straps and slowly unlatches them, fiddling with the complicated bits and then sliding it off his arm. 

Emma trails her fingers down to his wrist and he looks away, at the wall and then at the floor, his breath catching when she touches the scars. There’s that self-loathing again. She raises his arm to her lips, places a kiss to the scars there and his eyes snap to hers. The way he looks at her makes her wonder if he’s ever been shown a moment of kindness in his life. 

She’s actually caught off guard when he kisses her again, a little forcefully, his hand finding its way to her hair and fisting in it, tilting her head and pushing his tongue into her mouth with a passion and a certainty that makes her forget which Killian she’s with. His wrist comes around her hips, pulling her to him as she runs her hands over his chest, his back, his sides until he pulls back with a gasp. 

“Can I touch you again?” he asks, strained but without the hesitation from before.

“Yes,” she breathes. “You don’t have to ask.” 

He’s still hesitant when he brings his hand to her breast but she’s pretty sure it’s more about not knowing what to do than not believing he can or should. She’s already worked up and the heat of his skin on hers makes her whimper and he grows bolder, his touch becoming more insistent, more intent, playing with her nipple and sliding down the skin of her stomach, making it flutter under his fingers. 

His palm slides around to her back so he can pull her in closer again, covering her mouth with his and she groans, rolls her hips against his. A needy desperate sound escapes him as his hand slips lower, grabbing hold of her ass and pulling her harder against the ridge in his pants. 

She takes hold of his hips, turning him and leading him towards the bed at the back of the room. She pushes down on his shoulders, making him sit and smiles at the way he reaches for her with hand and wrist and lips when she pulls back. She kneels down in front of him, reaching for the laces of his leathers and he doesn’t stop her but he looks more nervous than he has yet. 

She finishes unlacing him and then reaches down to pull his boots off one at a time. He looks at her again in that way that breaks her heart, like he’s surprised by her kindness, by care. She reaches for the waist of his pants and slides them down slowly, still giving him a chance to change his mind. He lifts his hips to help her pull them off. He’s watching her now, naked and awaiting judgement, so she smiles at him, letting her tongue peek out to lick at her bottom lip and watching the desire flash in his eyes before she straightens a little so she can kiss him. 

His hand comes to her hair again but falls to the sheets beside him when she trails her lips down his neck, across his collarbone and down his chest to his stomach, the amazing, desperate sounds he’s making spurring her on. She can tell he’s right on the edge already, that it will only take a second to bring him to his climax and she knows that that might disappoint him - especially if he’s inside of her when it happens. 

So she takes him in hand and he cries out, falling to his elbows before her. She pumps him once before deciding to really give him something to cry out about and takes him into her mouth. He only tries to protest, for the sake of her honour, for a second before she wraps her lips around him and he loses all sense of words or thoughts. He curses, a slew of swears she’s heard and some she hasn’t, some she’s pretty sure are in another language, as she runs her lips and tongue over him. 

It’s barely a minute before he comes in her mouth and when she looks up at him he looks so blissed out, so boneless that she wants to laugh. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want him to take it the wrong way. She caresses him gently, stroking his cock and his thighs and his stomach as he comes back to himself. Once the ecstasy has faded from his features though, disappointment takes its place and she frowns, confused. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and he avoids looking at her again. 

“I just - I mean I was hoping to… I wanted to make you… as well.. I thought…”

She understands then. Understands that he thinks this is over and that he wanted to be with her completely but doesn’t feel right asking for more. She smiles at him. 

“There’s still time for that,” she says and he perks up just a little. “And now, it’ll last longer so you can really enjoy it,” she tells him. He bites his lip and scratches his ear. 

“And you,” he starts. “Will you enjoy it?” he asks and she smiles. Always so considerate, her Killian. 

“Yes,” she tells him. “If you help me.”

“How?” he demands quickly, eagerly and he blushes at her smile. “I mean, it seems like bad form to leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially after that,” he explains. She raises an eyebrow at him. Not quite as suave as he usually is but not bad. 

“I -” he starts again. “I want to please you,” he confesses, but holds her gaze even as his cheeks burn. Her heart melts a little at this shy, nervous man fighting against his own anxiety to tell her that he wants to make her feel good. She really lucked out with Killian Jones, didn’t she?”

“Slide over,” she tells him, standing. He makes room for her on the bed and she lies down next to him, he on his side and she on her back. She takes his hand in hers again, toys with his fingers for a moment, with the familiar rings there, before bringing it to her breast once more. He’s less hesitant this time, quicker to act as he touches her, repeating some of the same brushes and flicks and pulls from before but watching her, weighing the sounds she makes and repeating the touches that make her gasp or cry out. What a quick study, she muses as she pulls his lips to hers again. 

He kisses her eagerly, deeply and wantonly as he touches her. His fingers continue to play with her nipple, sliding over to tease the other and then returning to the first. Emma’s skin is on fire. She’s squirming a little beneath him, heat pooling between her legs at his surprisingly talented ministrations and she’s pretty sure she’s going to go insane before she feels his hand slide down, between her breasts, over her stomach.

Yes, she practically moans. Good for him, she thinks with a smirk. His fingers reach her sex and she opens her legs for him, lets him slide between them and explore. His breath catches and then he groans with desperation, deepening his kiss when he feels her wet and hot under his hand. It’s a bit experimental, still unsure as he gets his bearings and Emma gives him time to figure it out, knowing this is the first time he’s touched a woman so intimately. 

He finds her opening and slides a finger in and her hand tightens in his hair. He pulls back and then pushes back in and Emma cries out, breaking their kiss as her head falls back against the pillow. He watches her with hooded eyes and swollen lips. He does it again and she cants her hips up against his hand. 

He continues in a steady rhythm, slowly, adding a second finger and checking for her reaction. She reaches down and pauses his movements, brings his thumb to her clit and circles it slowly. He looks at where he’s touching her, focused, lips parted and breathing heavy as she shows him how she likes to be touched. He follows her instructions willingly, so eager to please her, to bring her pleasure and she lets him go, lets him continue on his own. 

His thumb circles her, slowly building her higher and once he’s found his rhythm he begins pumping his fingers again at the same time. She lets out a choked moan and suddenly, somehow, she’s writhing under this shy deckhand and he’s watching her, lust burning in his eyes as he sees what he’s doing to her. 

His eyes rake over her, take a moment to watch, mesmerized, as his fingers disappear inside of her again and again, and then focus on her breasts, her nipples hard and stiff as she pants under him. He leans down, taking one in his mouth and holy fucking shit. 

She grabs at his hair, holding him in place as he swirls his tongue over the bud, his fingers continuing to drive her closer to the edge. She can feel him getting into it, encouraged by the litany of sounds escaping her, almost more excited at the idea of getting her off than he was at the idea of getting off himself, and he picks up his pace. 

Holy shit, she thinks as she feels the coil tightening inside of her, feels the sparks licking at her belly. Is she going to come from this? From his first go at it?

She feels him press against her thigh, hard and hot and swollen and she remembers that this is supposed to be about him. She forces herself to pull back and feels a little guilty when he looks disappointed and worried. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to - Did I do it wrong?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Trust me, you did it very, very right,” she tells him, still panting. His chest puffs up a bit and she smiles. “I just - want you,” she tells him and desire and lust darken his eyes, even as they mingle with the nervousness. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “Okay.” 

She pushes him onto his back feeling the rise and fall of his chest and the pounding of his heart under it. She lifts one leg slowly over him so that she can straddle him and his hand and wrist come to rest on her hips. They’re shaking and she asks him if he’s sure because he looks so scared. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminds him. “Or if you’re not ready.”

He shakes his head. “No, I want to,” he tells her. “I just… Gods, Emma, you’re so beautiful, and strong and brave and I’m -” 

“Beautiful,” she cuts him off. “Handsome. And kind, and sweet, and brave.” He’s going to protest so she leans over him and kisses him so that he can’t. 

She pulls back, kissing his neck again for a moment before she rises over him and takes him in her hand, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down over him. The sound he makes when her hips meet his isn’t one she’s ever heard him make before and also not one she thinks she’ll ever hear again, so she tries to remember it, the ecstasy and the wonder and the desperation. 

She gives him a moment, not moving, letting him enjoy the feeling of being inside her and watching him enjoy it. When he’s calmed a little, stopped whimpering softly with each breath, and his breathing is nearly back to normal, he looks at her and she waits. He nods, hand squeezing her hip and she starts moving. She goes slowly so that he can enjoy it and so that it’s not over too quickly. He may have come already but this is still his first time and she’s not expecting the kind of marathons they usually have. 

He lets her take control, going back and forth between watching her in awe and throwing his head back against the pillow. She enjoys both, likes the way his eyes rake over her, seeing how much he wants her, and liking the way the muscles in his neck stretch and tense as his jaw clenches and his mouth falls open. 

And the sounds he makes, god the sounds. Killian has always been vocal in bed, but it's usually words, praise and filth and encouragements. But these sounds, they’re raw and primal and desperate and she revels in them, each one shooting through her like a shock to her core. 

She debates bringing his hand to her clit again, but he’s so lost in his pleasure, his fingers digging into her hip so hard that she doesn’t think he could manage it right now. So she does it herself, touching herself and watching his face as she does. She so rarely gets to see him like this, he’s always been more of a giver than a taker but she loves the moments when he lets her worship him the way he always does her. 

He looks down at her hand between them, sees her fingers circling her clit and his lip pulls back over his teeth, desperate, needy breaths and gasps leaving him as it spurs him on, his hips rocking up into hers and she knows he’s close but she’s nearly there too. He’s holding out longer than she expected and she realises when she sees it in his eyes, when he brings a hand to her breast, rolls her nipple between his fingers that he’s trying to let her finish first. 

Always a gentleman, she muses. But between his hand on her and her fingers on her clit and the way he’s pulling her against him, pushing himself deeper, finding spots he shouldn’t be able to, it's not long before her back is bowing, hand falling to his chest, fisting at the hair there as she cries out. 

He sits up, wrapping his arms around her as she shakes, even as she continues to move over him and the change of angle sends another wave of pleasure through her. She sees his reaction when she clenches and flutters around him seconds before he cries out, burying his head in her neck and pulling her more tightly against him so that they’re flush from chest to hips. 

He’s shaking, trembling in her arms as his breath comes out in soft whimpers against her skin. She brushes her fingers through his damp hair, holding him tightly and turning her head to press kisses to his temple, his ear, his cheekbone, soothing him. 

When he stops shaking he pulls back but only enough so that he can cup her cheek and kiss her again, really kiss her. His lips slide over hers, tongue pushing past and licking into her mouth, panting against her as he nips and sucks at her lips. She’s dizzy by the time he finally breaks the kiss, presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes, fingers still fisted in her hair.

“Thank you,” he says, low in his throat and she laughs. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she assures him. 

“That was…” he pauses, searching for the right word. “Extraordinary.” She laughs softly and he lifts his face from hers, looks at her with wide eyes. “Was it… did you… enjoy it? I mean, it seemed like you did but-”

“I did,” she assures him. “A lot.” He looks at her with a slightly raised brow. “You were very good at it,” she tells him and can see the pride growing in his chest. 

“I understand now,” he says and she cocks her head. “Why the French call it the little death. Surely I must have touched a piece of heaven, held a goddess in my arms.” She wants to laugh but this is the most fluent, the most Killian-like he’s sounded since she met him and it warms her heart to hear him speak without self doubt or hesitation. 

“I felt… it felt like…” he looks at her. “Have we done this before?” he asks. “In your world?”

She nods. “Yes. Many, many times. And you’ll remember it soon.” 

“Can we do it again?” he asks eagerly and she laughs. 

“I think we’ll have to wait, unfortunately, until we get home. Henry is going to start wondering where we are.” 

He nods, a little disappointed but understanding. “Well then, I look forward to returning to your reality. One where I’m somehow, someone worthy of a heroine, a saviour like you.”

“Stop that,” she says, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. She caresses his cheeks with her thumbs. “You were a hero today. You risked your life to help Henry save me. You were brave and you were noble. No coward could have done that.” 

His breath catches but he doesn’t protest despite the embarrassment on his face. She kisses him again and she can tell he’s trying to hang on to her, hang on to the moment just a little longer as he follows her lips, his fingers trailing down her back and then down her arm as she slowly rises from the bed and begins getting dressed. 

“I love you,” she hears him whisper from the bed behind her and it's so low she knows he didn’t mean for her to hear it. She knows, of course she knows. But she lets him pretend she didn’t hear, lets him keep his secret, knows that when she does say it, she needs to say it to the real him. 

She wishes she could stay, that she could lay here in bed with him and hold him, that she didn’t have to get up and walk away, save the world as always. But she does. They have a curse to break and a family to save and a world to put right. Tomorrow, when this is over and done with, when this is hopefully over and done with, she’ll spend the entire day in bed with him, won't let him go until whatever the next crisis is forces her to leave his side. And she’ll tell him. She’ll tell him that she loves him. But that can wait until tomorrow. 

[randomrichards]

BEST MOVIE MOMENTS OF 2020

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Abe Makes Dinner from ABE

Teen chef protégé Abe (Stranger Thing’s Noah Schnapp) hopes that his dinner blending Israeli and Palestinian dishes will mend a bridge between his Israeli and Palestinian families (as well as his atheist father). But he gets a sad dose of reality when he learns the hard way that a wedge between families can’t always be solved with a meal.

“Wait for It” from HAMILTON

On June 16, 2016, Leslie Odom Jr. surprised many by beating Hamilton star/creator Lin-Manuel Miranda for the Best Actor award at the Tony Awards. And now they understood why thanks to Disney+ presenting the musical. And it all has to do with the song “Wait for It.”

In this soulful musical number, Odom Jr. allows us to understand Aaron Burr’s beliefs in letting fate leads his path. Whether it’s winning the heart of a married woman or watching all his loved ones parish, Burr is willing to wait for destiny to reveal why. It also showcases the contrast between Burr and Hamilton. This song changes Burr from History’s villain to a complicated anti-hero.

10)          Deku and Bakugo go full Super Sayan in MY HERO ACADEMIA: HEROES RISING

My Hero Academia always delivers great action scenes and they truly shine in their latest round in the cinema.

In his final battle to protect young brother and sister Mahoro (Tomoyo Kurosawa in Japanese, Dani Chambers in English) and Katsuma (Yuka Terasaki in Japanese, Maxey Whitehead in English) from ruthless power-stealer Nine (Yoshio Inoue in Japanese, Johnny Yong Bosch in English), underdog hero-in-training Izuku “Deku” Midoriya (Daiki Yamashita in Japanese, Justin Briner in English) transfers his “One-For-All” power to hotheaded classmate Bakugo (Nobuhiko Okamoto in Japanese, Clifford Chapin in English). The result is an image of the in super powered form resembling Super Sayans.

When Deku reaches 100% power, the film suddenly turns white then stretches into abstract imagery.

Honestly, the main reason I put this on the list is because it’s pure awesome and I’m not afraid to admit it.

9)            A Survivor Model from COLLECTIVE

This documentary follows the reporters of Romanian Newspaper Gazeta Sporturilor as their investigation into the Colective Club fire in Bucharest that killed 27 people and left 180 injured exposed vast health care fraud that caused survivors to die in the hospital and would bring down the government. Another key focus is a survivor who was so badly burned she lost most of her fingers. The camera focuses on her as she watches conferences about the fire.

In a standout moment, she models for photo shoots. In this moment, we see a beautiful woman who refuses to allow her disability to stop her, revealing her power.

8)            the Wuhan Flu Song from BORAT SUBSEQUENT MOVIEFILM

Many best scenes of 2020 will focus on the bed scene with Tutar and Rudy Gulianni. But I prefer to focus on the scene where Borat (Sacha Baron Cohen) performs the “Wuhan Flu Song” at a Anti-Masker Rally. Not only is it deliciously cringy and hilarious, but It perfectly captures all of Cohen’s strengths as a comedic performer.

As with Borat’s previous cringy yet catchy “Throw the Jew Down the Well, Cohen uses the Borat persona exposes the ugliest side of America. Watching the Qanon conspiracy theorists cheering on Borat (under the guise of Country Steve) singing about injecting Obama with the Coronavirus horrifies while splitting sides. This moment reveals the dangerous consequences of misinformation and conspiracy theorists on society. Plus, the song is shamelessly catchy as hell.

Add the fact that Cohen was nearly attacked during this scene shows how far he’s willing to go to make a point and get a laugh.

7)            The Dinner Scene from LET HIM GO

This scene is a perfect example of how you put subtext in a scene. On the surface, It’s just Weboy matriarch Blanche (Lesley Manville) serving porkchops to her daughter in law Lorna’s(Kayli Carter) former parent in laws Margaret (Diane Lane) and George Blackledge (Kevin Costner). But with the context of Margaret and George trying to deliver Lorna and their grandson from her abusive husband, you can feel the hostility in the atmosphere.

It’s a credit to the actors and their ability to hide their aggression under a mask of southern hospitality. It’s especially true for Manville, who brings to life a woman who is a master of hiding her cruelty under a pleasant smile. She may sound welcoming to them, but you can tell something’s off about her. No wonder she’s able to manipulate the police into siding with her. Hell, many audience will be surprised when they find out she’s British in real life.

Lane matches her every step of the way with the most nuanced jabs.

It won’t get as much appreciation due to it’s unassuming nature. But it’s a perfect scene to show how to bring nuance to a performance.

6)            The Restaurant Scene from THE INVISIBLE MAN

At first, it seemed Cecilia (Elizabeth Moss) finally has the drop on her sociopathic control freak ex Adrian (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). After days being tormented by him, Cecilia finally has proof of how he turns invisible. Now she goes to a public restaurant to convince her sister Emily (Harriet Dyer). But then a  levitating knife appears out of nowhere and slits Emily’s throat before flying into Cecilia’s hands.

Director Leigh Whannell and cinematographer Stefan Duscio do an excellent job using everyday envirnoments to create a sense of unease. Whenever the camera lingers on a kitchen, you search with anxious eyes for any sign of Adrian. In this case, they use the ambience of a crowded fancy restaurant to create a false sense of security. And yet, you can’t help but wonder if Adrian’s still watching them.

It’s in this scene where title character goes from a good villain to a great villain. Here we see what a cunning monster he truly is. The scene also showcases Moss’s terrific performance as her desperate eyes showcase the complete helplessness she feels in this scenario.

5)            Edna sheds her skin in RELIC

Rarely do the words “horror” and “heartbreaking” go together, but that describes the ending to this underrated gem.

Kay (Emily Mortimer) returns to her family home to care for her mother Edna (Robyn Nevin), who seems to be suffering from dementia. Now she and her daughter Sam (Bella Heathcote) find themselves trapped in the crawlspace while fleeing a warped Edna, who has been warped by a supernatural force. With contorted joints and decaying flesh, she has become monstrous. At first it seems they have defeated Edna and are heading out the door.

Then Kay looks back to see her mother lying on the ground, struggling to breath. This brings the film into a unexpected turn as Kay carries the creature that used to be her mother to bed. When Kay peels the skin off Edna’s body to reveal a charcoal skinned, dying creature, the film goes from creepy to heartbreaing. Anyone who ever lost a loved one to dementia will recognize to devastating feeling of watching them fade away right in front of your eyes.

4)             The one-take action scene in EXTRACTION

Well, we can’t have a best movie moments of 2020 list without mentioning the 10 minute action sequence from Extraction.

As black market mercenary Tyler Rake (Chris Hemsworth) shields the kidnapped son of a drug lord from other mercenaries, his race across a Bangladesh village delivers all you want from an action movie. Fast paced car chase? Check. Semi-automatic gun battles? Check. Hand to hand combat? Check. Parkour across rooftops? You bet. Sometimes you’ll even get people get hit by cars during hand to hand combat. All of this happens while cinematographer Newton Thomas Sigel makes it look like one take.

Sure, sophisticated viewers will recognize there the cuts are hidden. But when director Sam Hargrave is willing to ride on the hood of a car as it races across dirt roads for the sake of a shot, you can’t help but be impressed

3)            Opening Bike Ride from THE CLIMB

The film begins with what sees like a regular bike ride. American Mike (Director and Co-Writer Michael Angelo Covino) and Kyle (Co-Writer Kyle Marvin) are racing across the road of a French mountain before Kyle’s wedding. But then Mike reveals he’s slept with Kyle’s fiancé, resulting in the furious Kyle to chase Mike. Unfortunately, they’re both too exhausted to commit to a long chase.

The whole opening sequence could be its own short film. Covino and cinematographer Zach Kuperstein) shoot it all in one unbroken take, allowing the awkward exchange to flow more naturally. It leads to a hilarious moment when Kyle tries to chase Mike, but neither have the energy to keep going. Plus, it summarizes the reoccuring cycle of the film with Mike becoming increasingly self-destructive and a terrible friend and Kyle being nice until pushed too far.

2)            The Ending from UNCUT GEMS

After spending two hours in a state of panic, it looks like the audience will finally breath a sigh of relief. After locking his pissed off brother in law Arlo (Eric Bogosian) and his goons Phil (Keith William Richards) and Nico (Tommy Kominik) in the Jewelry store with him, smooth talking jeweler and gambling addict Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) makes the biggest win of his life via pinpoint accurate predictions of a basketball game. Now he has millions of dollars; way more than enough to pay off his debt. Everything’s coming up Howard. That is until the furious Phil puts a bullet in Howard’s head and proceeds to rob his store.

With all his reckless behaviour (including putting his girlfriend at risk) and overconfidence, you knew at somehow Howard was going to be punished. But when the flilm cuts to scenes of Howard’s family celebrating the game and his girlfriend leaves with the money, you can’t help but know how bad they’re going to feel when they find Howard dead.

Then the camera zooms into Howard’s bullet wound to reveal the same colourful kaliedescope imagery as shown within the title uncut gems. With Daniel Lopatin’s enchanting new wave score playing, this moment gives the audience a moment to finally relax before closing with Gigi D’Agostino’s L’amour Toujours.

In spite of (or because of) his flaws; Howard is himself an uncut gem.

1)            The little things inspire Joe from SOUL

Everyone recognizes “The Pixar Moment”; that scene that elevates a Pixar film from great to extraordinary. No one can truly define it, but it’s the one scene from the film everyone talks about. It’s the ten-minute prologue from Up. It’s Anton Ego’s reaction after trying Remy’s dish in Ratatouille. Even a lesser Pixar film can have this moment; a perfect example is when Lighting McQueen allows Ramirez to race in his place in Cars 3. Now we can add another film to the list thanks to Pixar’s latest masterpiece Soul.

After a day of escaping the afterlife and being trapped in the body of a therapy cat, Joe Gardner’s (Jamie Foxx) has finally achieved his dream of being in a Jazz band. And he feels…nothing. So, he heads back to his piano to ponder his direction in life. Then he finds the items 22 (Tina Fey) collected while in his body. What results is a moment fans will be coming back to in their moment of need.

As Joe rests 22’s items in front of his piano and starts playing, he comes to realize how a pizza crust and a seed truly meant to her. In the process, he comes realize the moments that seemed meaningless at first had some magic in them. The joy of playing for his father. The feel of the ocean waves flowing on his feet. The taste of a café’s pie.

In a time when many people can’t do any major activities, this moment serves as a reminder of to appreciate the little things in life. I imagine many audiences will return to this scene in their lowest moments.

[lavendersoft]

My Soulmate’s Soulmate.

Part 1

Soulmate Au-

Synopsis: Before you meet your soulmate your world is black and white, without color. When soulmates meet, their world glows with vibrancy. The reality, however, as harsh and uncommon as it is, is that you are not always your soulmate’s soulmate.

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung (poly!au)

Warnings: Angst dude, angst.

Author’s Notes: Unedited because I’m a slut. Also, I got a lot of inspiration for this from a Namjoon soulmate!au fanfic I can’t find anywhere where he confesses he can’t see color with the reader even though he’s her soulmate and it’s real angsty. So, if anyone knows which fanfic that was and who wrote it could you please message me so I can give creds 🥺 Thanks.

--

The first time you saw color was when you met Jungkook. It was almost overwhelming, the vibrancy brought tears to your eyes. You were so happy you’d finally met him, your soulmate.

It wasn’t until eight months after you started dating that you found out he had yet to see his first color, even after meeting you.

You cried for days, but he was right by your side. He kept reassuring that he loved you more than anything, that colors mean nothing, that the entire soulmate concept is trash, that he’d never leave you, that nothing or no one had ever made him as happy as you made him.

You knew all those words would turn to dust if he ever happened to run into his true soulmate. The thought absolutely killed you. You knew he’d leave, he wouldn’t be able to help it. You knew this all too well because you would do the exact same for Jungkook.

And that’s why you stayed. Because despite how selfish it was to keep him from the chance of ever seeing color, despite the paranoia and the heartache, he was your soulmate and you couldn’t bear to lose him. Willingly, at least. When you told him you’d stay, he shed tears of relief and had held you extra close that night.

And so the days went on, and to be honest it was as if nothing had changed, for the most part. Things we’re still crazy as ever but you loved it. The paranoia lessened little by little until it was manageable, and you could truly say you were becoming happy again after weeks of stress and conflict. You two happily continued your relationship for another two years.

That is until Jungkook came home one day with tears streaming down his face and red, blotchy eyes. He slammed the front door shut with a force that rattled the walls and he ran down the hallway. He locked himself in your shared bedroom and refused to come out even after you begged him.

Five hours. He’s hasn’t even come out to eat or use the bathroom. You left food for him outside the door but it has yet to be touched. You were so worried at this point you found yourself in front of the bedroom door for the sixth time this evening,

“Jungkook, please... at least give me a sign you’re still breathing.” Silence.

You were half-joking but now you were much more worried than before. You rushed back the kitchen to grab the key you had for emergencies.

“Jungkook... please don’t be mad, okay? I’m coming in.. I need to know if you're alright.” You called gently. The door creaked open but you were met by darkness.

“Jung...kook..?”

Your eyes were still adjusting to the change of lighting but you could just barely make out a form under the blanket. Your heart stopped when you realized how still he was being but it jumpstarted again when you heard him sniffle.

You sighed in relief.

“Okay I’ll leave you alone no-“

“Wait.”

His voice was small and raspy.

“Don’t go.”

You took that as your queue walk over and sit down beside him. The dull light streaming in from the city through your window finally helps you make out the features of his face. He looked so sad, the frown between his eyebrows and the puffiness of his eyes were evidence of his distress. You reach out to comb your fingers through his untamed locks to soothe him as much as you can.

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

He hasn’t looked at you directly since he came bursting through the front door. At this point you wonder if he’s just upset at you.

“D-did I do something? Are you angry at me?”

He shook his head immediately,

“No, Angel, not at all.” Ah, the nickname still made your heart flutter. He reached up to grab your hand that was still tangled in his hair, and held it to his chest.

“I need to tell you something. And I need you to promise not to leave, okay?” His hold tightened around your hand when you hesitate. You had started fidgeting in anticipation and nervousness, subconsciously. He knew you well and can easily spot the signs.

“Please promise me, Y/n”

He never used your real name. Oh, God.

“..Okay... I promise.”

He took a deep breath before he broke your entire heart.

“I’ve started seeing color.”

Your throat was too tight to speak. The hot tears had already fallen but you refused to let out a sound, in hopes the darkness in the room would mask your agony. But he was Jungkook, he knew you better than yourself.

“I hate it.”

You look at him, confused.

“I can’t stand colors. They’re fucking obnoxious. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. They’re too bright. They give me such a fucking headache!”

You knew his rant wasn’t about the colors, it was about what they represented. He found the person that was going to tear this perfect dream of a relationship apart.

You felt a pang of guilt shoot through you. Seeing color for the first time was supposed to be the most beautiful and enchanting experience a person would ever have. You took that away from him because the only thing he can think of is you.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I’m s-so-“

You couldn’t keep the sobs from escaping you now. You figured if you couldn’t hold them back, then let it all out. All of it. All the pain you felt when he admitted to you that he’d never seen color even after meeting you, all the sleepless nights of worrying that the next day he would find his true other half and leave you without a thought, all the frustration from arguments you had because of how clingy you’d become, everything.

And he was there, like he always was, holding you tight and rocking you as he whispered reassurances in your ear. He was always so good at comforting you.

“It’s not your fault, don’t apologize.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Angel.”

The words were bittersweet, you felt glad that he didn’t up and leave you like you thought he would after he found the love of his life. Yet, you knew it was coming to an end. It was inevitable.

“You have to.” You croaked out. “I won’t let you stay.”

“No. I told you I’m not leaving.” His voice sounded harsh but something told you his anger was not directed towards you.

You found the strength push away from his arms and stare into his eyes through the dark.

“And I told you, you have to! I refuse to let you stay with me when you could be happy with your soulmate! I won’t let you! It was different when you didn’t know who it was- but now....”

“I’m happy with you, Y/n! I told you before, no one could ever make me as happy as-“

“You don’t understand!!” It came out so much louder than intended, but you felt so defeated. You buried your face into his chest and clutched his shirt into your fist.

“You don’t understand... there’s nothing like the first kiss with your soulmate, nothing like holding hands.... and the first time they say I love you, you feel like your hearts gonna explode! There’s nothing that could ever compare the feelings of pure joy of just being around them or just having their attention on you.”

You felt tears that didn’t belong to you fall on your neck.

“Please don’t break your promise. Please.” He choked through his sobs.

You didn’t know what to do. Leaving your other half was hard enough without them begging for you to stay. You were too deep in your own thoughts to process the lamp on your nightstand being turned on and the room being illuminated.

“I just can’t lea-“

Jungkook paused mid-sentence when he turned from the lamp to look at you. He went completely silent as he stared at you with those wide doe eyes. Lips parted in awe, his hand came to touch your bottom lip.

“Your lips are- and your hair is- oh, God, and your eyes- and skin-“ Jungkook had no idea what the names were for the colors he was trying to match.

“How the fuck are you so gorgeous?”

This was truly his first time. Your colors were his favorite by far, the soft hues calmed him immensely. The way you glowed in the golden light, the blushing of your skin, the highlights in your hair.

“Has this shirt always been this bright?” He chuckled as he tugged at the hem of your favorite T-shirt. He’s seen you in that shirt a thousand times but this was surreal.

You had a thousand and one questions to ask him but you’d decided not to disrupt the odd trance he was in as he looked so calm.

“Always.”

[ofmelodies]

🌙 — ALL ABOARD ! The HMS PROMETHEAN welcomes ISABELLE ARRYN to the expedition in their capacity of songbird. They are THIRTY-TWO & CISFEMALE and might be painted as AMANDA SEYFRIED. When you strike up an acquaintance, address them as she/her. Their deeds on land precede their arrival — people say they are charismatic, joyful and open-minded but melancholic, distant, and critical when the tide turns. Their purpose aboard the Promethean falls in line with self redemption, and coming to face with the biggest demon of all: rejection. 

ACT I : GOD’S GIFT

NO ONE TRULY knows how or when you appeared. A scrawny naked child caked with dirt from blonde head to pinky toe. You like to say, now that you know better than to divulge this information, that you were born on a sunny summer day, to a loving mother while your father was off to war. There was never a mother or a father. Just you, and the constant hunger and fear that envelops all of London’s street urchins. A golden voice that brings tears to the eyes of all that are lucky enough to hear, is your meal ticket. A tiny thing, singing with conviction of love and loss, hope and despair. 

ACT II : SAVIOR OR DEVIL ? 

IT IS ONLY a matter of time before someone with the entrepreneurial flair sniffs you out. Your vulnerability is too easy to take advantage of ---- the price for your voice too low. He coaxes you out of the streets, into a scalding bath. Maids rub you until you’re pink, and you lift your hands, truly seeing them for the first time. Blonde locks are combed, and you’re stuck in a scratchy dress that screams wealth. Then come the lessons. Voice lessons, history, reading and writing --- you do it all. When you’re finally done, you are a woman flowered, ready to take on the world, and provide the return on your savior’s investment. 

ACT III : A STAR IS BORN

THE FLU APPEARS as suddenly as it leaves. Your savior is bed ridden, the kiss of death moments from pressing against his lips, the only true lover’s embrace he will ever feel. There are no sons, no daughters, no aunts nor uncles. He gives it all to you. It was never meant to happen this way, and though you are a songbird finally free from your gilded cage, you can’t help but shed a tear as his grasp on your hands loosens. With the estate and the coffers at your disposal, you make your debut on the entertainment stage - a mysterious, beautiful creature with a voice that enchants common folk and aristocrats alike. London goes crazy for you. When once you were overlooked, you are now revered, a queen in your own right. You can have any man you desire - and you do desire, though you keep your nightly obsessions to yourself. You wouldn’t dare risk all that you’ve worked for. Until you meet HIM. The one who finally puts some sense into the songs of longing you sing every night. The stab of pain in your chest where the heart is supposed to beat makes you think you’re about to die. He brushes you off, toys with you to fuel more songs that are sung more beautifully by a heartbroken songstress than an indifferent composer.

ACT IV : A FALL FROM GRACE

IT DRIVES YOU to madness. You lose yourself to drinking and frolicking, first with London’s top bachelors, but that’s not enough. You’re losing the thrill. If you lose the thrill, your mind wanders back to the composer you can never have. You want MORE. You meet him backstage, a little older than you’re used to, but oh so regal. Grey eyes look at you as if you were the only girl in the world ---- no matter he already has one waiting at home. You feign ignorance when the tabloids hit, you try to spin yourself into the victim, but you realize quickly these people don’t actually LOVE you. They love what you do for them. The minute you are a threat to the good marriages of the people surrounding you, they treat you like the plague, whispering stories lewd and mad as they come. You even hear whispers and hints of a scheme you plotted to get rid of your savior, access his money. You stay holed up in YOUR estate. Not theirs, not his. Yours. 

ACT V: REDEMPTION, AT WHAT COST ?

You board the Promethean, acutely aware of the crowd’s hushed whispers as you walk up, luggage in tow. Head held high, you’ve prepared yourself for this day. It’s been years since you’ve made a public appearance, but you’re determined to keep it cool. You know what they’re saying, but you pay no mind. There are no married aristocrats on the Promethean that you know of ---- and if there are, you’re determined to stay well away from them. This is your shot at redemption, at getting away from the whispers that fuel London’s bourgeoisie. You��re stronger now, you’ve found the little girl with the dirty feet in yourself, and you don’t plan on letting her go.  

[joannevixxon]

Love Comes At A Cost

An Elsamaren fanfic by JoanneVixxon on AO3

Summary:

The Fifth Spirit is one of many myths that came to life. And, not all myths are meant to be saviours in times of woe.

Just as Arendelle welcomes Queen Anna into her reign, the Northuldra wade through their newfound freedom under Elsa’s protection. Unbeknownst to them, lurking behind shadows awaits a monster whose anger finds peace in the demise of innocent lives. 

[Chapter 1: Anna’s Astute Mind]

Preview: “How ever cold a fortitude of silence Elsa bore, it melted, came undone at the seams, shed its mask of immaculate armour, once Elsa leaned forwards to rest her elbows languidly against the railing, as if to ask for back rubs instead. Like a steed to its master, the Queen of Ice and Snow bowed her head ever so slightly to her Northuldra companion.”

[Chapter 2: This Warmth Has A Name] 

Preview: “This warmth. It has a name. Proclaimed at times most opportune. Sometimes it teeters at the edge of one’s lips— nothing more daunting than to have its existence brought center stage. It had always been there in Elsa’s life. Lurking behind curtains when Anna met her closed doors. Burning bright in her mother’s lullabies. It was Elsa’s oldest companion. The hot to her cold. The light to her dark. The quencher of her fears.”

/////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Chapter 2: This Warmth Has A Name

It all started three weeks before, when Elsa had just turned twenty-six. 

Along with Honeymaren, Ryder, Yelena and the others, Elsa celebrated her “sorta-quarter- of-a-century birthday”— as Anna proclaimed it at every seizable opportunity— in Arendelle. A full week and a half whizzed through before anyone could fully revel in Christmas celebrations and solstice festivals. For the first time in forever, Arendelle stood hand in hand with the Northuldra, to ring in the winter season with a Yule Bell that sat atop the castle’s facade. 

It flourished into a jubilant eleven days, complete with every variant of chocolate-drenched dessert imaginable— fruits with chocolate fondue, chocolate mousse, chocolate tiered cake, chocolate parfait, you could go on forever. The doors to the Great Hall were kept open for the citizens of Arendelle to dance, savour the taste of scrumptious treats and seek refuge from the crisp winter air. As per Queen Anna’s request, the castle kitchen stocked a hefty supply of lutefisk to keep Elsa’s cravings at bay for another week or two. 

Elsa honestly couldn’t have dreamt of a more perfect occasion for which she could spend time with her family and friends, Arendellian and Northuldra alike.

She returned to the Enchanted Forest at night, welcomed at last by the quiet noise of forest critters and sea breeze. Though her body was tangibly there, kissed by the smoke wafting from campfires, Elsa’s mind had remained to saunter through the hustle and bustle of Arendelle’s winter parties. That was, until she realised how pensive Honeymaren had been throughout their journey to Northuldra. 

The two had yet to reach the level of intimacy that Elsa and Anna shared. Despite the stark contrast in their characters, the two sisters could detect each other’s disquietude in as much time as it did a whiff of chocolate from the kitchens— in other words, immediately. Aside from a chilly draft whisking into the room, Elsa had the habit of pressing into her palm where her gloves used to cause an itch, arching shoulders, vacillating around any space you’d call a window or a balcony. Anna usually stammered her way into a blabber, biting her bottom lip, flailing her hands and pacing in a spot altogether.

But what about Honeymaren?

Elsa dawdled her way to Honeymaren, who sat quietly on one vacant bought at their usual spot around the campfire, petting the nape of a baby reindeer. 

“Is this seat taken?” asked Elsa out of courtesy.

Honeymaren lips curved into a weary smile as she shook her head. Hesitantly, Elsa plopped down beside her.

“Honeymaren,” said Elsa, trying not to sound like an overly concerned parent. She settled with a tone of affability, with just a hint of nonchalance. “Are you okay? You’ve been a bit quiet,”

Honeymaren paused to survey their camp. Young brothers and sisters were plagued with a fit of giggles as they chased one another down on winter-crusted soil. In the large, oddly extravagant shed of ice— courtesy of none other than Elsa— reindeer herders could be seen sharpening their spears and daggers. Nourishing the camp with youthful music were the elders, who were either blowing into fadno flutes or plucking zithers. The night was as lively as it was serene.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” said Honeymaren. “Thanks for asking, Elsa. I appreciate it,”

Elsa tensed at the curt response, as she gently petted the baby reindeer’s hind. Somewhere amidst the reindeer’s soft coos of bliss, she hoped to find a balm to her fluttering heart. “Was Arendelle... a bit too much?” asked Elsa, though her question aimed furtively to the droopy-eyed calf. “I understand if it’s too noisy and colourful and overwhelming—”

“What? N-No, no at all, Elsa,” stuttered Honeymaren. Quickly peering into Elsa’s eyes, she placed a hand on Elsa’s back. “I love coming to Arendelle. The things you do with lingonberries! Who knew they could be tastier than they already are? And those boxes that magically tell you the time—?”

“Clocks...?”

“Clocks! They’re amazing!” Honeymaren let out a chuckle.

Every tendril of muscle in Elsa’s body melted as Honeymaren rubbed her back. Any average citizen of Arendelle wouldn’t dare to come three feet into Elsa’s space, let alone rest a finger upon her cool skin. But, the Northuldra saw physical contact as a means of sharing one’s innermost sentiments, relaying passions upon the slightest brush of one’s shoulder, speaking louder than words, unvarnished and raw. 

“I’d go there everyday if I could...” said Honeymaren wistfully before looking away. There it was again. The look of apprehension shot to the ground, as if the hook of a piercing gaze could fish a fickle dream out from the barren soil. “I want to know everything there is about Arendelle... And the world beyond...”

This restless demeanor was anything but foreign to Elsa. She’d seen it countless times in the eyes of a young blonde, trapped on the other side of her mirror. The Forest to Honeymaren was perhaps what queendom was to Elsa in its dying months. A cage with its doors left ajar. A set of chains with its keys jangling by one’s feet. A trap, tattered, loose and unhinged. 

The prospect of breaking free from a prison that was once home, was becoming less and less an elaborate fantasy to Honeymaren and more an optional reality.

And it terrified her. 

The unknown. 

“I should bring you over more often,” said Elsa, before realising what had tumbled out of her lips. “I-I should introduce you to everyone. Give you a tour around the whole kingdom. See my favourite views, my favourite hiking trails...”

“Really?” Honeymaren’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course,” said Elsa in a daze. “Anywhere you want to go in Arendelle. I’m more than happy to bring you around,”

Honeymaren’s smile stretched from ear to ear. Just as Elsa opened her mouth to ask what had truly ruffled Honeymaren’s feathers, the brunette cradled the baby reindeer in her arms and rose to her feet, never leaving Elsa’s eyes unattended. “I want to show you something,” She cocked her head to the side and extended a hand.

Elsa stood, her hand fastening in Honeymaren’s. For someone who could triumph over her brawn of a brother in a spar, who could hang from a tree upside down, who could hold a baby reindeer then in the crook of one arm, Elsa never found Honeymaren’s hands any less delicate in her clasps. Elsa caressed her thumb over Honeymaren’s, making sure to come off as habitual than deliberate. Sure enough, her skin was just as soft as her touch.

“What is it?” asked Elsa, curiously.

Honeymaren bumped shoulders with Elsa and winked. “You’ll see,”

Fingers intertwined, Elsa let Honeymaren lead her to whatever it was she wanted Elsa to see, stealing glances to the back just in case her snowflakes had stalked them from above. 

Elsa was in control. For now. 

Into a small clearing, they entered, greeted by the soft amber light of a solitary campfire, on top of which perched a steaming pot of burbling stew. Several wooden shafts neatly lined the outskirts of the area, adjoined by several twines knotted in perfect bows. 

Had Yelena decided to bring a semblance of Arendelle’s lamp posts into the forest as decor? 

Once Honeymaren drew Elsa to the campfire, she jogged back to the tents to deposit the slumbering baby reindeer. It suddenly struck Elsa that Honeymaren had brought the reindeer along as an excuse to leave Elsa for a moment. 

Something was about to happen. Something special. Elsa sensed it. Hoped for it. Wished upon a thousand stars.

Out from the thick blanket of looming shadows, Honeymaren reappeared, with what seemed to be everyone else from the camp. Elsa fidgeted with loose strands of hair as the area flooded with family after family— little boys and girls, mothers and fathers, and elders. All eyes locked on her. With Elsa’s tension palpable from miles away, Honeymaren hastily returned by Elsa’s side with a reassuring smile, clasping one of Elsa’s hands with both of her own. For the first time since fleeing from her coronation ball, Elsa’s heart yearned to burst free from her rib cage. 

Could everyone see her tremble? Was she freezing the floor? Was that her snow?

Yelena finally stepped out, wearing the widest grin Elsa had seen from her. She took Elsa’s other hand, as did everyone else with each other’s shoulders, forming a human spiral.

“Elsa,” said Yelena, her deep voice stoic yet tender. “You and your sister have granted our people a freedom we have long abandoned in our prayers. For all the despair that has consumed us for the worst part of thirty-four dark years, you have kindled a flame of hope within our hearts, motivating our people to take steps in mending old wounds, to discover what lies beyond this sacred forest, to unite and thrive together as a community, and to live to our fullest potential. For your undying love to our families, we dedicate a vuelie to you, as a symbol of eternal gratitude,”

In an instant, the camp broke into song— into a vuelie that Elsa hadn’t heard before. 

Yet, its lilt was as foreign as it was familiar. Elsa’s magic pulsed through her veins to a rhythm not so different. Its cadence reverberated through Elsa’s bones, lulling her storm of thoughts to the peaceful voice she heard ringing in her ears. 

Her mother. Her siren. Her call. 

This was a vuelie, specially made for Elsa.

Elsa opened her eyes, to see the forest painted in a blue haze, by the ocean of fireflies buzzing behind barren trees, by the moonlit sky splashed a river of stars, by Bruni’s fire which blazed along the posts and their ropes. 

Elsa felt her entire body shrouded in warmth. This warmth. It has a name. Proclaimed at times most opportune. Sometimes it teeters at the edge of one’s lips— nothing more daunting than to have its existence brought center stage. It had always been there in Elsa’s life. Lurking behind curtains when Anna met her closed doors. Burning bright in her mother’s lullabies. It was Elsa’s oldest companion. The hot to her cold. The light to her dark. The quencher of her fears. 

Breathing life in as far as it echoed, the vuelie hushed too soon after it began and so did the soft buzz of forest critters. Elsa blinked into space, floating into reverie.

Yelena shot Honeymaren a glance, before turning to look at Elsa again. “Also,” continued Yelena with a smile. “Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, and have a Happy New Year, Elsa,”

This warmth. It was Love. It swaddled her, as if to celebrate her own being— once Princess of Arendelle, once Queen, now Fifth Spirit, now Elsa in her truest element. Elsa felt loved. For all her beauty and flaws, she was loved.

Years of preserving queenly composure crumbled as tears rolled down Elsa’s cheeks. The entire camp stood dumbfounded in silence.

Yelena seemed like she contemplated a gesture of consolation— a squeeze on Elsa’s shoulder, perhaps. In the end, she simply coughed into a fist. “It was Honeymaren’s idea,”

“H-Hey—” stuttered Honeymaren, panicking as Elsa’s weeps turned to sobs. “Elsa, are you—”

Elsa pulled Honeymaren into a tight embrace, knocking the wind out of Honeymaren’s lungs as their chests collided. They had never been this close, whimpers seeping into Honeymaren’s ears, shoulders trembling against Honeymaren’s chin. 

Worrying others for her personal turmoil was a peeve of Elsa’s that stood the test of time. And yet, she prayed for all that she felt bellowing within the confines of her tightening chest to find its way to Honeymaren’s heart. To have the burden of inexplicable pain be carried in companionship, than in solitude. To be taken care of. To be shared. To be understood.

Careful arms wrapped around Elsa. First hesitant, then resolute, Honeymaren rubbed Elsa’s back in a way she knew best— with fondness. Slowly, Elsa’s hug grew limpid. Her sobs lulled to heavy breaths. The weight of her arms rested on Honeymaren’s shoulders. 

She felt at ease.

If Decadence made itself the crux of one’s love, it would’ve taken the form of a human being named Honeymaren. She was as sweet as her name suggests. As soothing a balm as honey. 

“Thank you, Honey,” mumbled Elsa into Honeymaren’s collar. “ I love… I loved it,”

Yelena snickered, ambling away from the two. “Told you,” she said to another elder in a loud whisper. “If it’s Elsa, ‘Maren’ is never going to be her nickname,”

Elsa pulled away an inch, blushing. “Honeymaren,” 

“Yes?” replied Honeymaren, eyes widening.

“I-I meant to say ‘Honeymaren’,” Elsa looked furtively to the crowd around them, voice still cracking. “I don’t know why I said ‘Honey’. Well, I-I mean I do know. I just thought about how sweet you— t-this— was. You can be sweet. You are sweet. Goodness gracious. I didn’t mean—”

“Elsa,” said Honeymaren softly, wiping the tears off of Elsa’s pink cheeks. “You can call me Honey,”

“Oh... Oh, okay,” Sniffling, Elsa threaded her fingers through her blonde hair. “Only... if you want me to...”

“I’d like that very much, Elsa,” Honeymaren stroked Elsa’s knuckles with a thumb, blotting out any certainty Elsa had in the furtiveness of her caresses just moments before. Honeymaren hugged Elsa again. This time tighter. Warmer. “I love… I’d love that very much,”

__________________

Turns out that pot at the centre of the camp had bidos simmering away. It was a Northuldra stew that Elsa took delight in but had mixed feelings for— what with the carrots, potatoes… and reindeer meat. The thought of eating Sven, or the dozens of baby reindeer she coddled every morning with warm hugs and icy fractals, had always hovered above her head when she ate bidos, too nebulous to be tucked away, too vile to be hidden and ignored. 

Herding reindeer for sustenance was just something that irked Elsa. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t reindeer herding, but the sad reality that furry creatures live in as both epitomes of cuteness and victims of slaughter. Would she feel the same way about whitefishes used for lutefisk or chickens used for roasts, had she lived this close to her food?

“Onto your second helping?” teased Honeymaren, sitting beside Elsa. She pretended to thoroughly inspect Elsa’s bowl of bidos. “How unlike you,”

Elsa daintily covered her mouth with her fingertips as she swallowed, snapping out of her ponderance. “I like it,” said Elsa with a simper. “I want to… relish in this moment,”

“Oh?” said Honeymaren, intrigued. “And what kind of moment is this for you?”

Elsa’s eyes fluttered closed as she attempted to immerse herself in her five senses. The past year of meditation practices had proved this to be second nature. “I can see everyone having fun, dancing in the moonlight, chatting around the campfire… I can hear the echoes of my vuelie ringing in my ears.... The waft of embers tickling my nose…”

Honeymaren rested her chin on Elsa’s shoulder at this point. Maybe it was sisterly instinct, or better yet, a jolt of courage bestowed by the gods of sympathy themselves. Either way, Elsa found herself stroking Honeymaren’s head. 

Elsa figured that fatigue had washed over the brunette, being the mastermind of Elsa’s surprise. Elsa herself had a hand in planning a surprise for Anna’s 19th birthday and that culminated with a snowgie-infested cold. 

Surprises were no easy feat.

Elsa felt grateful but guilty, indebted to Honeymaren’s acts of kindness, compelled to repay her with the same sweet type of affection. A strong compulsion then surged into her conscience, coaxing her to try something that she’d seen Anna do to Kristoff time and time again. Gulping, Elsa threaded her fingers through Honeymaren’s thick black hair, and slowly, gently, casually, massaged her scalp. 

Honeymaren was pleasantly warm to the touch, like blankets that had been soaked overnight in body heat, or carpet tassels lazed before hearths. As if Honeymaren’s own body had betrayed her adamancy to not respond— not through the weakest of whimpers or the softest of sighs— she grew warmer and languid as Elsa’s fingers leisurely ventured their way from her crown to the spot behind her ear, before finally adding pressure right where her head met her nape.

Her silence was stifling to Elsa. Perhaps, there would’ve been no harm in continuing with a description of this moment. Which human sense was this? Touch? Once a taboo to Elsa. Now, an unspoken language of Elsa’s deepest desires. “The feeling of… your hair… in my hand,”

Honeymaren chose that moment to flinch away, staring intensely at the crowd, whose backs were all that could be seen from their seats. Elsa figured her caresses had truly gone unnoticed this time. Did Honeymaren hate head massages? Did Elsa cross a line? She should’ve asked. She wasn’t thinking through…

“I-I’m sorry,” stammered Elsa, hoping to squeeze some wisdom out of her thick skull as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t have— Not everyone— I’m sorry,”

Something tickled Elsa’s wrist. Looking between her fingers, Elsa found Honeymaren trying to clasp her hand. Her soft grip seemed to say “look at me” and “look away”, all at once.

“Sounds like four senses,” whispered Honeymaren, her hot breath tickling Elsa’s ear. “That leaves taste,”

Elsa’s shoulders arched. “O-Oh… Well... I can taste bidos... lingering on my tongue,”

Honeymaren peered downwards, paying no heed to Elsa’s awkwardness. “I haven’t had the chance to... have a taste,”

Elsa took a deep breath. 

One thing she’d learned from Anna and Kristoff was that couples spoke in code, like a cypher of romance. Just that, she didn’t know if Honeymaren had actually meant to use it. 

They were merely friends after all.

So, was Honeymaren flirting? Or… Was she asking for a bowl of bidos? Was Elsa supposed to lean forwards and kiss her? Or stand up… and… grab Honeymaren a bowl of bidos? 

Should she ask what Honeymaren meant? 

That would’ve been pathetic. 

An embarrassment.

Time stood still, arms crossed, as Elsa listened to the cacophony of her thousand bickering thoughts. Her silence reeked the scent of docility. It was tempting. Magnetising. 

As if their proximity wasn’t all too indicative, Honeymaren inched closer.

Not before long, a strong gust of wind suddenly meandered its way through the crowd, taunting them with a sweep of dust and leaves. 

“Mama!”

“Be careful of the fire, sweetheart!”

“What the...?”

“Is that—?”

“It’s winter! The last thing we need is wind!”

“Hush! Do not anger the spirits!”

In a heartbeat, the gust of wind halted before Elsa and Honeymaren, circling in a spot by their feet. Everyone spun around to trail the beast of a breeze, as Elsa and Honeymaren shifted away from each other, putting enough room to fit a reindeer between themselves. 

Honeymaren dipped her face into her palms.

“G-Gale?” called Elsa, acutely aware of everyone’s curious stare. The change in mood hit her like a whiplash. “Is that you?” 

Gale swivelled around Elsa’s wrist, yanking her by the arm. Stumbling forwards, Elsa found herself falling on all fours, palms digging into dirt.

“Gale? What’s wrong? What happened?” asked Elsa, flicking dirt away from her hands. She could tell how frightened the Wind Spirit was by its frantic whiffs.

The breezy spiral around her arm brought with it some dark liquid. As the embers of the campfire flickered across the soil, Elsa caught sight of a red tinge. 

It was blood.

“Water has memory…”

Holding her breath, Elsa blasted a small stream of ice, letting Gale reconstruct a scene they had witnessed. Building layers upon layers, the snow congealed into ice, and the ice crystallised into a sculpture of intricate detail. 

The crowd broke into murmurs of fright and confusion.

The sculpture took the form of a Nothuldra man with his back against a boulder. A dagger was unsheathed, perched atop unclenched fists. There was only so much that could be deciphered. But, that figure was as lifeless as it could have been for an ice sculpture. 

His hair was unkempt, nose wide, brows thick and chiseled.

Everyone made no mistake in thinking that it was Ryder.

Elsa didn’t dare turn to face Honeymaren. 

She shut her eyes and grimaced, bracing for a shriek, a swooning body, a clambering towards the sculpture, as she had done with Anna’s frozen form years ago. Instead, she found Honeymaren seemingly turned into a statue herself, speechless and riveted to the ground. 

Elsa felt as if her body was dunked into the depths of Ahtohallan.

“Honeymaren,” called Yelena, squeezing her way out from the crowd. She trotted to the two young women. “Honeymaren. What’s Ryder—“

“The reindeer,” stuttered Honeymaren, her voice suddenly small. “The herd… was missing one or two reindeer. He went to look for them where they were last grazing on lichen,”

Jumping to her feet, Elsa strode to a stream trickling down close by. “Nokk!” called Elsa, voice laced with panic. “Nokk, we have to go! Gale, lead the way,”

Amidst the yelps of awe and shock from the crowd, a vehement neigh echoed throughout the forest and a ferocious water horse emerged with a splash. Gale circling beneath her soles, Elsa mounted Nokk without an inkling of hesitation.

Elsa was about to click her heel when Honeymaren ran towards them with a staff in hand. “Lemme come with you,” said Honeymaren, as a statement rather than a request.

“Honey,” replied Elsa, her heart aching. “It might be dangerous. I—“

“No! Stop!” Honeymaren tugged Elsa by her knee. “He’s the only family I have left! If anything happened to him, I need to see it with my own two eyes. Please.”

Elsa paused as those very eyes filled with hot tears. She’d do the same for Anna. How obtuse must Elsa be to deny Honeymaren this right? 

“Okay,” said Elsa, extending a hand. Time was of the essence. “We do this together,”

[wolf-555-writer]

Target On My Back Part 3

Hope you guys still like where this is going xd. And thanks for all the comments, likes and reblogs, I’m so glad you like it, it really means a lot! Thanks! :) 

PART 1 | PART 2 

Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow x Reader

Summary: You desperately need answers about your connection between Natalia and you. Will you find them? And will you like what you’ll find?

Word Count: 2,712

Charming, sparkling green eyes, piercing right through you. With an intense longing gaze and a mesmerizing grin. Drawing you closer, leaning in, she’s got a hold of you. Absolutely enchanted by her, and her impressive skills, her amazing figure and total fearlessness for everything. Her beautiful red hair tickles on your skin as she presses her soft, red lips on your neck. Melting away at her delicate touch. The fact that she shot you in the leg, minor detail, you’re already over it. Still alive and kicking, right? Her hand moves from your waist to your hips smoothly, and ends up on your back while she pulls you closer. Her body pressed against yours, she has complete control over you. “Stay…”, you beg her, exhaling a bit shaky since you struggle to breathe correctly. Giving in and closing your eyes in satisfaction as your heart flutters. With a soft voice she whispers in your ear, sensing her warm breath on your skin:  

“Agent (Y/L/N)? Are you hearing this?”, Coulson presses, snapping his fingers displeased, probably in response to your silence and absent-minded stare. “Yes, loud and clear sir”, you answer with a straight face, seated in a small, cramped space on an uncomfortable chair. No windows and barely any fresh air judging by the fusty smell hanging around. “Well then, can you repeat the question for me?”. “...Um-”. Debriefing. That's what they call it. After the second time it started to feel more like an interrogation. “I thought so. I asked if you can walk me through that moment just before Agent Hill arrived. One more time please”, Coulson insists, now leaning on the metal table while assuming an intimidating stature. You’d rather go back to that daydream…. Despite the several ‘interrogation’ attempts by Coulson and Hill, you haven’t told them what exactly happened between Natalia and you, both times. All these questions, asked in a particular, distrusting way. He’s really pushing it. Why even believe some deadly assassin over a government organization anyway? You have mixed feelings about it, about Natalia, about SHIELD and about yourself. Can’t pinpoint the exact reason where it’s coming from, but you have to figure it out. If you had known her before, you would know right? ‘Cause seriously, you don’t forget someone like her that easy. “So, are we done here?”, you urge, suppressing the rage, trying your best not to let it all out. “Yes, all clear Agent (Y/L/N). You’re dismissed”, Coulson states, closing the file in front of him, not written down a single word because you told the exact same story, just like all the previous times. Not cleared for field work yet as you’ve been recovering from the gunshot wound in your leg. Taking it easy and slow, which you undeniably hate. Although, it has given you enough time to think. Not too powerful, you slam both hands on the table in a passive-aggressive way and stand up, hearing the screeching of the metal chair on the floor as you push it back. Without saying another word you exit the room and march off. With a slight limp though, so it’s not as overpowering as intended to, but he got the point.

“Hi Maria!”, you greet, walking through the hallway at SHIELD headquarters, seeing her approach with a fast pace and a dead serious look. “It's Agent H-”. “Agent Hill, I know, I know. I was wondering if you have an assignment for me. It’s okay if it's a routine mission or anything, just give me something to do”, you ask in despair, being bored as hell around here. “I can't. I'm sorry. You haven't gotten the clearance from Coulson yet”, she answers while still moving. “From Coulson?”. Wait, so the doctor already cleared you for duty, yet Coulson didn't? Agent Hill clearly has other matters to attend to, no time to stop or respond as she continued her course with haste. Well… Coulson’s credibility really hit a low point at the moment. Loyal to SHIELD. Trust the system. Words you don't believe in anymore. Okay, it’s true, SHIELD always keeps secrets. But you need answers. Right now. Obviously asking for the information is by far the worst option, no doubt they would lie or cover it up anyway. A group of Agents pass you. They’re gazing at you just a bit too long with their judgy eyes. The story of your failures has been going around, or whatever you might call them. Missing and failing to apprehend the target. Losing the package. You're being watched, your every move, like you’re a traitor, a criminal. Especially Coulson is giving you that feeling. So you have to be careful. Probably the reason why you haven't considered the more obvious choice, which is tracking down Natalia. You have to do this, before talking yourself out of it, it’s now or never.

You chuckle, it’s kinda ironic, the skills taught by SHIELD now used to break-in into their own compound. It sure comes in handy, knowing the routines, codes and how to bypass the security system. Standing in a dark corner with your back against the wall, looking at your watch while counting down the seconds. A couple of guards will pass by any moment now. And… go. Setting the timer. You’ve got 8 minutes, should be enough. Looking over your shoulder one more time while you type in the passcode and covertly slip past the door, into the records room. You’re in. The blue screen lights up your face, and with a hypnotic stare you search for the info, now scrolling through the data of previous SHIELD operations like a maniac. Maybe you encountered her on a mission before, or you were part of a secret SHIELD program, forced to wipe your memory. Can’t find a connection between Black Widow and you. There has to be one, right? Because it feels like there is one. There’s a strange familiarity about her. You have to dig deeper. Accessing your personnel file, maybe that will shed some light on it. 4 minutes and 30 seconds left. A lot of stuff about your past is redacted, the file is filled with secrets. Why? Then you stumble upon a medical report.   

“(Y/N)! Can you hear me?!”, Coulson shouts using both his hands to focus the sound while slowly progressing through the thick layer of snow beneath him. The desperation in his voice is all too clear. “Are you sure it’s here?”, Agent Barton asks with a loud voice, also searching, several meters away from Coulson. “Yes, it’s here. It has to be...”. A low, almost inaudible groan has caught Coulson’s attention as he jolts his head and immediately struggles towards it. “Quick Barton, HERE!”. He kneels while pushing some of the ice-cold snow out of the way. “Don’t you think we’re too late Coulson?”. “No. I won’t believe that. I can't”, he utters in concern. No optimism left, until his expression suddenly changes. “I still feel a pulse. It’s very weak, but it’s there. Let's go!”.  

Perhaps those recurring nightmares were telling you something… Heavily beaten up, a couple of broken bones, and in your chest, close to your heart, a gunshot wound. Covered in snow mixed with blood and a whole lot of other injuries you were brought into the infirmary of a remote, classified SHIELD location by Coulson and Barton. How did I even survive this? You think, reading the file in disbelief. If that bullet had pierced you a couple of centimeters lower, you would have been dead, no doubt. And the cold temperature apparently saved your life too. There’s more information, it’s of a meeting between Coulson and you. Were you an informant? With Coulson being your handler? But you were told that you’ve been a SHIELD Agent your entire life, and a well trained one too. You believed them, didn’t question them. You even have your own academy records to prove it. “Was it all a lie? Was I a target? A criminal?”, realizing you are one of them. The people that you despise, and hunt for a living, the ‘bad guys’. Turns out you and Natalia are not so different after all. “No, NO. this is- this can’t be true”. There’s an audio file. You’re about to open it when you hear a noise.

“Hey, there’s somebody inside!”. “Fuck”. You still had 2 minutes left!? “Good evening fellas. This doesn’t have to go the hard way”, you advise in a nonchalant fashion, carefully shifting towards them with your hands up, trying to close the distance. “You’re not authorised to be here!”, one of the guards barks at you as two of the four enter. “Okay, suit yourself. Hard way it is then”, you decide while sprinting forward and forcing the door shut with your foot, locking two of them out. The other two inside promptly react and one swings his baton at you. You slip by ducking down. Making a spin while moving up, you hit him with the backside of your right elbow, followed by a left hook just below the eye. The other one moves towards you, swinging his baton. But you grip it tight, along with his other arm, preventing a blow to your head. Perceiving a crackling electricity sound right beside you. Okay... so these are also tasers, how convenient. You toss the guard to the side and taunt with a wide grin: “I can keep this up all day, guys”. Turning your head to the door as it opens again. The short distraction caused you to be forcefully thrown against the just unlocked entrance, with the guards arm crushing your throat. Gasping for air while you're being choked. However, the other two guards luckily can’t get in as you feel them banging on the door. Powerfully kicking him between the legs - always effective - now able to shove the guard back with your arms, to end with a kick in his stomach. You hunch over, hands resting on your knees, and cough due to the lack of oxygen intake. The other guard took this opportunity and has tased you around the waist area with his charged weapon. A painful shock radiates through your torso and you let out a painful cry. Quickly kicking the baton out of his hand and pivoting your whole body, loading up for another one. With the heel of your boot you strike him on the temple. Knocking him out before he crashes to the floor.

“Stop Agent (Y/L/N)!”, a familiar voice orders. It’s Coulson. “Stand down!”. A stinging pain in your neck makes you stop and you reach for it. He shot you with something. Displaying your left hand to see what it is, holding a type of dart in your palm. “This is for your own safety”. “What the h-”. Mid-sentence you collapse on the ground. Your body feels heavy, fading away as it gets dark before your eyes.   

“Hello, this is Agent Coulson”. “Sir, the prisoner has finally woken up”, a doctor informs on the phone. “Good. It’s been weeks. I'll be there as soon as possible”. Coulson enters the room inside the remote infirmary facility, however the bed is empty and the cuffs are opened. “What? How-”. He gets grabbed from behind. Trapped in a strong headlock and an IV needle firmly pressed on the skin near his carotid artery. “Easy, easy. So ...I see you’re feeling better (Y/N)”, Coulson carefully speaks as he puts his hands up to show that he's surrendering. “How do you know my name and who the hell are you?! Why was I chained to the bed!? Talk!”. “Do you want answers or not? Then you have to let me go first. Okay (Y/N)?”. “This is Fury”. “Director, it's Coulson. Sir, I'm back in Eastern Europe again and I have an interesting case here. My informant is awake, but has no memory”. “No memory?”. “Yes, sir. No idea about their past whatsoever”. “I see... We could use an Agent with that specific skill set here at SHIELD. They could be a valuable asset”. “My thoughts exactly sir”. “It’s best if no one knows the details about this”. “Nobody will know sir”. “Okay. I trust you Coulson. Agent (Y/L/N) is your responsibility now”.

“I thought I would find you here, sooner or later”. Perceiving Coulson’s voice as you slowly open your eyelids, feeling a little fuzzy. Wanting to move your arms and legs, however you can’t. “What the hell did you do to me?!”, you yell, tied to the chair with your wrist and ankles secured. He definitely injected you with a paralyzing agent earlier. “I should have never assigned you that mission. But I thought you would be the only one that could match up to Black Widow”, Coulson reveals, avoiding eye contact with you. Why would he say that? What is he playing at? Still trying to free yourself by moving around as you feel two hands grasping your shoulders. You shrug them off, but it only causes you to be pushed down with even more force. Detained by the two guards that you fought, having a hateful expression on their face. Can’t blame them though. “You need to fix this Coulson”, you protest, never having felt so enraged and betrayed before. “I can't. It can't be fixed anymore. And trust me, you don't want it to be fixed either”. “Trust you? Not a chance”, you scoff. “You kept this from me, lied to me”. He clearly doesn't want you to know about your past. “You have proven yourself over the years, being an excellent Agent here at SHIELD. Do you want to destroy all that?”. “Cut the crap Phil. What did SHIELD do to me?! I want answers, now”, you demand, not actually in a position to make these at the moment, being tied up and all. “Well, you may not like what you’ll find”, Coulson comments as he’s pacing back and forth. “I don’t care. I had your back. And you took advantage of me, used me for your own means”. Sick of all the secrets, cause it’s driving you crazy. “I just need to know who I am and where I’m from”. Coulson stares at you with a conflicted expression. “You can't know. That is why we lied to you in the first place. The secrets are there for a reason”. “I will never stop looking for answers Coulson”. “I know you won’t”. He looks away and sighs while shaking his head in an upset manner. You hoped this trip to the archives would trigger a memory, yet it didn’t. You’re desperate, not knowing who you are anymore. After some minutes you break the cutting silence. “Did I know her? Did I know Natalia? Come on Coulson, I need to know”. Coulson takes a strong breath in and ponders, hearing the gears turning in his head. “Guards, can you give us the room please?”, he instructs, sending the guards away, leaving you and him alone. He finally decided to give in. Now standing right in front of you, he tells with a deep sigh: “Okay, but you might want to sit down for this”. “...Really Coulson”. Considering the position you’re in, you give him a look, raising your eyebrows. “Well you know what I mean”.

Sitting outside, watching the sunset, Natalia has a picture in her hand. One of the edges is torn off and it’s wrinkled, probably due to the fact that she always carries it with her. The slight discoloration suggests it's an older picture. It's the last and only one she has, possibly the only personal belonging too. On it are two people wearing a uniform, standing side by side. One of them is a red-headed woman, winking at the camera, matched with a subtle grin. The other person close next to her is staring at her with a longing gaze and smiling. Left arm wrapped around her shoulder, being completely enchanted by her. By her laugh, her fiery green eyes and fearlessness. It’s you. You and her in this old picture. Together. Holding it close, Natalia gently caresses the image of you with her thumb and softly whispers:

“I hope one day you’ll remember me...”

PART 4

[bear-down-protocol]

Pecklash

Oxventure fic, posted in honor of Xtra’s third birthday! Note; This was written quite a while ago (July 2018, to be exact), so at this point I hadn't seen anything past An Orcward Encounter. As evidenced by the fact that Corazón doesn't cast Grease even once in this. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! @outsidexboxofficial @outsidextra It was a warm summer's day, a gentle breeze brushing through the grass and trees and providing relief from the sun's rays shining down upon the earth insistently. Birds were chirping, their lively tunes the finishing touch to a serene and peaceful environment.

That is, until our heroes arrived to the scene, their purposeful strides chasing off the wildlife and their voices drowning out the rustling of the leaves.

"-let's take a break here."

"We've barely begun this quest," Dob protests, but his eyes are tracking the sandwich in Egbert’s hand closely, "I mean, we've only been walking for like 10 minutes since accepting-" the rest of the words were indecipherable through his chewing as he settled down onto the grass, stretching out comfortably.

The others follow suit, all of them either too enchanted by the nature surrounding them (Merilwen) or too excited about the prospect of food (everyone else) to care much about their quest at the moment.

"It’s fiiine. The dragon will still be there when we arrive," Prudence dismisses confidently, "I mean, the town probably won't be... but they're paying us to defeat the dragon, not to protect the people and their property. Loophole!"

That matter settled - dubiously, but settled nonetheless - they enjoy a quiet afternoon together.

Wait, no. That was some other group.

Of course they didn't.

They had barely begun to dig into their lunches when they were disturbed by a familiar sound; the clucking of a chicken.

Merilwen turned to glare holes into Corazón, her hair swiveling around with the motion. One of her braids hit her cheek with the momentum, wholly undermining the dramatic flair of it all.  "Don't even think about it."

Corazón seemed unconcerned about both Merilwen's ire and the increasingly loud clucking, looking up from his food just long enough to raise his brows.

"What? It's not like I go out of my way to assault chickens. It was pestering me! Besides, it wasn't even really a chicken, remember?"

"So... you kicked a man across the room for annoying you?" Dob asked.

"Huh. Yeah. That's... not really any better, is it?"

A burst of flame shot out over Egbert’s cheese sandwich - marking him the proud inventor of grilled cheese - as he joined the conversation with a, “wait, you did what?” Prudence got involved now as well. "No, no, that's way better, I approve."

Dob took one look at her wide grin and sparking hands and scooted over to Merilwen, then past her when she muttered "Now you think about the dangers of being within range."

"Point is,” Corazón interjected, “I'm not kicking chickens for the hell of it."

"Good." Merilwen said, tense posture dropping. That would've been the end of it, but - "You better not."

Corazón put down his food, slow but deliberate.

"Oooh," Prudence said, tail sweeping from side to side as she looked on in delight at the sudden tension.

Eyes locked onto Merilwen the entire time, Corazón stood up and walked over to the foliage, following the noise of the chicken. "No one tells Corazón de Le- de Ballena what to do." "Except his dad," Egbert snickered, single-handedly destroying any chance of Corazón backing down.

His leg pulled back and -- his foot found its target.

The chicken hopped around in affront, and a smug grin curled the edges of Corazón’s lips.  

Merilwen stood up. The wind picked up, blowing her hair back as if she commended the forces of nature to make it so. Her downturned lips accentuated the scar on her cheek, a stark reminder that for all her usual cheer, she had shed blood on battlefields - her own and that of enemies alike.

But before she could make a move - and before Corazón could even utter the words 'oh shit I fucked up' - a strange sound caught all their attention. Clucking, loud and chaotic as a flock of chickens descended upon Corazón, their beady eyes aimed at him and him alone.

"I've heard of this," Dob said in hushed excitement, "in the legendary folktale of Zelda."

His grin froze on his face when he got over his awe for long enough to realize the implications of his statement. "Corazón, look out!"

But it was too late. In mere seconds, Corazón was no longer visible, buried under dozens of angry, vengeful chickens. "What- guys! Help! Ow- no, bad chickens- ow, ouch!"

Without looking, Dob put his hand on Egbert's arm - previously lifting slowly as Egbert considered the bom in his hand, eyes already sparkling at the idea of lobbing it into chaos - and pushed it back down. Between the chickens and Merilwen, Dob wasn't sure who's wrath he wanted to avoid more.

"Woah! Those are some badass chickens." Prudence commented as she circled the fray - perhaps trying to find a strategic entry point to help, perhaps just enjoying the spectacle.  

"Guys! This is seriously hurting me!"

The real panic in his voice stirred Merilwen into movement. "I'm mad at him too, believe me, I am-" She said, making eye contact with one of the chickens, "but- he's learned his lesson. He's sorry. Right, Corazón?"

"Right! I am, I'm sorry! I will never kick an animal again! Unless they're being really annoy- ow! No, okay, I won't! I promise!"

One of the chickens - the one Corazón kicked, going by its slight awkward hopping as it approached Merilwen - seized her up. She had not yet started the ritual to talk with animals, but it seemed to understand her nonetheless.

"I'll make sure he won't do it again." She promised.

And just like that, the attack ceased. The chickens dispersed to reveal a disheveled Corazón who looked like he wasn't entirely certain about what the hell just happened.

Without needing to be asked, Dob strummed his lute in preparation of his healing spell.

"Thank you. " Corazón groaned. Then, as Dob's lute glowed blue, "wait, why are you healing the chicken first?!"

"You started it, and I'm kind of scared of the chickens... and of Merilwen right now."

"Yeah that's... that's fair." Corazón admitted, glancing down at his reddened arms with a wince.

Fortunately for him, it didn’t take long for Dob to work his magic, the gentle hum of a song flowing through him until the pain ebbed away.

The chickens didn’t stay around to witness it, their wings fluttering in the wind as Corazón’s injuries faded into nothingness.

And so our 'heroes' continue on their journey, heading off into the horizon, their voices - "why can't we ever have a normal picnic?!"- quieting with every step until the last wisps are carried off by the wind.

[redroseinsanity]

Ōmagatoki - Day 4

@daisugaweek2019​ | Day 4 - Pets/Flowers

Chapters: 4/7

Summary: In the Kamakura period, a fallen samurai undertakes a journey to pray for the mountain god’s mercy as a famine threatens his people, but instead meets an enchanting tree spirit. Daichi knows that the kodama is possibly the most dangerous being he has ever encountered, and yet, he falls.

—

“What if I told you that there’s a price to pay for saving your people?”

“What kind of price?”

“A sacrifice.”

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

When Daichi shook off a far too vivid dream that was pervaded by Suga’s laughter and smelled like cedar, he half expected to be alone. But there, in the soft glow of dawn, was Suga sitting at the edge of the mountain, unmoving save for the way his hair and clothes were tugged and teased by the wind.

He didn’t seem surprised when Daichi noiselessly picked over and sat next to him, bold enough to arrange himself so that their shoulders brushed. 

They remained there until the sun was halfway through its journey to the highest point in the sky, basking in the comfortable silence and simply enjoying each other’s company. It had been a long time since Daichi was given the opportunity to just be, free from obligations and expectations. With Suga, Daichi was not a samurai or ‘the third son’, he was not responsible for a village’s worth of people nor the wellbeing of his family. It was folly or hopeful thinking, but it felt as though he had shed all that in layers of sweat as he climbed up the mountain. 

Shrouded by the wisps of low clouds, enveloped by the most gorgeous nature he had ever seen, with Suga by his side, he was simply Daichi. He wasn’t entirely sure who that was, but he found that he quite liked who he was in the company of the kodama. 

The late morning had them seeking shade from the leafy branches of the massive tree that Suga had created, while Suga taught Daichi how to weave long stemmed buds into circlets and other adornments. 

“Oh, look,” Suga had said upon noticing the abundance of blossoms littered around them, “Gifts!”

Daichi had tried to respond but any words had failed when he caught sight of a tree resplendent with flowers in full bloom, petals drifting in the wind and a carpet of pinks and greens.

He had stepped out of the night into a dream held in the palm of Suga’s hand, and he discovered, with regret and alarm, that he did not want to wake.

Keep reading on AO3 or after the cut

Having Suga’s breath brush his cheek as he explained and a cool pair of hands to guide him was distracting to say the least and Daichi fought to focus on what Suga was teaching him. He would follow Suga’s lips as he spoke only to realise he had completely missed the steps; lose himself in the way Suga’s fingers moved, nimble and sure; begin to understand only to forget it all the moment Suga’s laugh pealed.  

Thankfully he was able to cotton on relatively quickly, mimicking Suga’s motions and relying on the keywords that filtered through the disjointed clutter in his mind. Before long, he was producing dainty chains studded with little blossoms and he proudly displayed them to Suga, earning an approving nod. 

“Now try braiding them into hair,” Suga instructed and Daichi nodded his assent without considering the implications of that statement.

He stilled when he felt something warm drop into his lap. Looking down, he froze completely as Suga smiled up at him from where he was making himself comfortable on Daichi’s thigh. His carefree expression indicated that he was clearly unaware of the way Daichi’s heart rate had sped up to a thunderous pace the moment Suga’s head had landed on the rough cloth of Daichi’s lap. 

With hands that trembled faintly, he picked up a section of woven flowers and, forcing his hands to steady, he collected a section of pale grey hair and began to braid them all together. 

Suga’s hair was smooth but after encountering several tangles, Daichi abandoned the initial task at hand to gingerly comb through the knots with his calloused fingers. As Daichi gently worked out the tangles, Suga let out a soft sigh, his eyes drifting shut as a peaceful smile found its way onto his lips. 

“You’re better at this than I thought you would be,” His voice, languid and intimate, nearly had Daichi dropping the flowers that he had been preparing to weave in. 

“I have a little sister,” Daichi told him, amazed that he managed to keep his tone even, “She likes braiding ribbons into her hair. When I left for the war, I gave her a boxful of ribbons and told her I would use them all with her when I came back." 

A tiny chuckle escaped Suga as he pried his eyes open to fix Daichi with a look. 

"And did you?" 

"I did,” Daichi assured him, it had been the one thing that had kept him grounded as he grappled with the knowledge that he’d never fight as a samurai again. 

“Is this thing,” Suga visibly struggled to locate the right words, “Is it common? Where you come from?”

“Is what common?” Daichi repeated, mildly baffled. 

“Keeping promises; making vows and seeing them through,” Suga’s face was open and inquisitive, framed by strewn locks of argon that overflowed off Daichi’s lap and furled around flower stems. 

Daichi considered the question, fingers deftly finishing this braid and already reaching for the next hank of hair. 

“It depends,” he conceded at last, “They’re meant to be kept but not all people make them with the intention of doing so and some are unable to even if they wish to do so.”

“And you?” Daichi glanced away from the plait entwined with blush shaded blossoms rapidly forming to see Suga’s intent gaze on him, “What about you?”

“I…” Daichi met hazel eyes steadily, “I do not make vows lightly, nor do I make ones I do not think I can keep.”

This time, he was able to see Suga’s expression morph into a pensive one, watched hazel eyes grow darker and his mouth tighten just an iota at the corners. 

Over the last couple of days, he’d caught a similar countenance on Suga’s face, one that seemed as though he were weighing something, judging and deciding, thoughtful and concerned all at once. 

Almost immediately, he would spring back into the perpetual exuberance that he seemed to embody when with Daichi.  

Without warning, Suga rose up, supporting himself with one hand, and twisted to face Daichi. At this point, he was close enough that each breath had his chest grazing Daichi’s bicep and when Daichi turned to lock eyes with him, he was thoroughly unprepared for the depths of those hazel eyes. 

When Daichi had first arrived on the mountain, he had believed that the glorious greenery was possibly the most magnificent thing he had ever seen. But drowning in an ocean of piercing emerald with edges of brown, Daichi swiftly retracted that thought. 

This irrationally gorgeous being was far more enthralling than all of the forests in the land put together and despite Daichi’s good sense telling him to get a hold of himself, he allowed his eyes to flicker to lips that were tantalisingly close. 

“May I?” He asked quietly. 

Suga’s inhale was matched by a half raise of an eyebrow as he registered surprise before a full transition to a smouldering intensity that drew Daichi in as much as it overwhelmed him. 

Anchoring his fingers in the grass, afraid to touch and take more than he was allowed, Daichi closed the distance at a deliberate pace, waiting for Suga to pull away or stop him. 

He paused again when their noses brushed and for an instant that was reminiscent to the first gasp a swimmer takes when emerging from the water, he rested his forehead against Suga’s. 

Every emotion that had arisen since he met Suga seemed to be a typhoon in his chest, in his lungs, in his stomach - everything was amok. He had never known emotion to be like this, had never felt so entirely at the mercy of his own heart. His entire life had been set to the cadence of society’s expectations, of what he should and should not do, of what he thought was best. But this? This went against everything he knew, everything his mind could possibly reason. And yet, he had never been so alive, he had never wanted anything more and nothing had ever prepared him for the way this capricious, incomprehensible, exquisite being made him feel. 

He nearly lost his balance when Suga jerked sharply away and in horrified confusion, Daichi thought he had overstepped until he saw the way Suga’s pupils had constricted and his eyes darted, tense and searching. 

Instantly, Daichi was on his guard and the katana that had been lying beside him appeared in his grip, held in a defensive position. Even while in the thick of the forest when every snap and rustle could have been a threat, Suga had always remained relaxed. 

Seeing that Suga was visibly distressed, Daichi braced himself for the worst even while he watched Suga’s features grow even more ethereal with breathless wonder. Someone tutted behind them and both spun to face a tall creature with a razor sharp smile. 

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi,” The newcomer had a voice that was smooth and clear, not unlike the water that came from freshly thawed mountain ice, “So this is where you’ve been hiding. Here I was worried that something had gone wrong but instead you’ve been frolicking with humans.”

The speaker was unspeakably beautiful in a flawless, intimidating sort of way. Bewitching tawny eyes flashed gold and luscious waves of chestnut framed a perfect face. Where Suga’s beauty was akin to a warm summer breeze, mesmerising and reassuring in turn, the stranger’s beauty was comparable to a free fall off a mountain ridge, terrifying and exhilarating all at once. 

A weaker man’s knees may have buckled but Daichi merely shifted so that he was directly in the other yokai’s line of sight, effectively blocking Suga. 

“Do you know what I can do to you, human?” The stranger drawled. 

“I do,” Daichi replied levelly as he calmly assumed a loose fighting stance. Amber eyes widened fractionally before they snapped to Suga with a measure of shock and glee. 

“You told him?" 

Daichi assumed that Suga must have made some gesture of affirmation because he was fixed with an appraising glare. 

"You are aware that either of us could extinguish you without so much batting an eye and you still choose to place yourself between us? I cannot tell if you are foolish or brave, samurai.”

“No one is extinguishing anyone, Tooru,” Suga stepped out beside Daichi with that unyielding statement. In the span of that sentence, Suga had metamorphosed into a version of himself that Daichi hardly recognised. Blazing eyes were emphasised by dark vines that ran across pale skin, crisscrossing down his neck and he gave off sheer power in waves. 

As if in response, Tooru’s smile curled into something frighteningly saccharine as the trees behind him erupted into unmatched growth, materialising into a wooden wall behind him. 

Almost instantaneously, a series of sturdy vines burst from the ground at Daichi’s feet to weave themselves into a thick barrier that cut Tooru out of view. 

“You know that nothing good comes from fratenizing,” he heard Tooru seethe. 

“And what exactly do you call your little trips out to meet that mizuchi of yours?” Suga rebutted in a pointed tone, although his voice remained airy, as though they were merely discussing the weather. 

“Do not,” Tooru’s voice swiftly turned frigid, “That’s different and you know it.”

“Hajime, was it?” Suga dropped the flippant tone in favour of one that was forbidding, a barely restrained force veiled by the gentle delivery, “I’ll leave you to your business if you leave me to mine.”

By the time Daichi had navigated out of the natural shield that Suga had enacted, both of them were glowering at each other, although Tooru’s massive trees were rapidly returning to regular form and Suga’s vines began to retreat into the ground. 

“Nothing comes without a price,” Tooru warned. Daichi started to say that he had been cautioned on this aspect on prior occasions, but stopped himself when he realised that Tooru had been directing it at Suga instead. 

“I am aware,” Suga threw out in an off-handed manner, “Are you?”

To his ultimate surprise, Tooru huffed, promptly becoming more of an exasperated child that reminded Daichi of his younger sister than a powerful being of myth. 

“Koushi, you know I’m only looking out for you,” Tooru pouted, “Be careful and don’t come crying to me if things don’t go the way you hope.” He stalked off without waiting for a response, sprays of buds blooming in his wake and leaving a trail of colourful petals.

“I could say the same,” Suga called after the receding back, mouth tugging at the corners as he faced Daichi. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I think I ought to be asking you instead,” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck as he put his katana away, “Friend of yours?”

Suga sighed, smile turning wry as he nodded. 

“He means well, he’s just not so good at expressing it,” The curve of Suga’s lips gave way to a full grin. 

“He called you something,” Daichi replayed the exchange in his head, “Is Suga not your name?”

Suga gave Daichi an odd look, mouth opening and closing a few times.

“You could have been killed just then and that’s your most pressing concern?”

“Well, I didn’t die,” Daichi pinned Suga with an expression so genuine that it knocked the wind out of the kodama’s lungs, “Besides, I think I have excellent priorities.”

“There are many names for me, mostly assigned by humans,” Suga explained, “Suga, Sugawara, yokai.” He shot Daichi a teasing smirk. 

“It all depends on who they perceive me to me, what they need from me, and what they would like to see or believe,” Suga concluded, fingers fiddling with a long and flat stalk of grass.

“What about when there’s no one around? No one to demand your existence? Who are you?” Daichi pressed.

“Just Koushi,” A slow, lambent smile spread across Suga’s face. Daichi made the mistake of looking directly into Suga’s eyes just then, and felt his breath catch as he found flecks of brown amidst green, “Then I’m just me.”

“Do only kodama get to call you that? Is it a code?” The words spilled from Daichi’s lips before he could stop himself.

The pause in which Suga spent considering this was suspended such that Daichi was able to chastise himself several times over within it.

“Koushi is my true name,” Suga said slowly, eyes drifting up to meet Daichi’s, “Tooru uses it because we are essentially kin and in this world, that is who we can trust instinctively and implicitly, who can completely understand each other and who will always be a source of solace.”

As Daichi mulled over this, Suga straightened and cast a glance out across the treetops. 

“You should begin your journey, for the sun will set in due time and if you leave any later, you may be caught midway when night falls,” He instructed Daichi. Part of the samurai wanted to damn it all, to stay just another night, another day. But the thought of his family and his people anchored him back to reality and without a word, he began packing the small sack he had carried up with him. 

The air was still by the time Daichi took his first steps down, away from Suga, and the leaves remained motionless and drooping, as though mirroring the weight in Daichi’s heart. 

He made it several paces down before he succumbed to the urge to turn and there Suga was, rooted and smiling gently. Much like the first time they had met, rays brushed the kodama’s face, tracing the delicate features that Daichi had involuntarily committed to heart and, at the same time, transforming him in a beacon, blazing and blinding all at once. 

“Will I see you again?” Daichi let his voice traverse the distance his body could not. 

“If you promise to,” Suga’s voice was an aural assurance, a lifeline that Daichi reached for and held on to. 

“Then I do,” Daichi vowed, voice strong and determination even more so.

Even with the dazzling afternoon sun illuminating Suga’s face, Daichi could see the radiant grin brighten his face in response. 

Swinging back around and setting off with purpose, Daichi thought that he could hear another kind of answer that was breathed through the forest, that echoed in the streams and was sung by the birds. 

So be it.  

-

Mizuchi  - A dragon type of deity associated with the water, something like a water spirit.

If anything looks inaccurate, please forgive me or correct me (preferably both)!

[azucararmovedalready]

@stpled

                    “ Once upon a time there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knigts had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but non prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss. {Laughing} Like that's ever gonna happen.{Paper Rusting, Toilet Flushes What a load of - Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed She was lookin' kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb In the shape of an "L" on her forehead The years start comin' and they don't stop comin' Fed to the rules and hit the ground runnin' Didn't make sense not to live for fun Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb So much to do so much to see So what's wrong with takin' the backstreets You'll never know if you don't go You'll never shine if you don't glow Hey, now You're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold It's a cool place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now but wait till you get older But the meteor men beg to differ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture The ice we skate is gettin' pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire How 'bout yours That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored Hey, now, you're an all-star {Shouting}Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold{Belches}Go! Go!{Record Scratching}Go. Go.Go. Hey, now, you're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold-Think it's in there?-All right. Let's get it!-Whoa. Hold on. Do you know what that thing can do to you?-Yeah, it'll grind your bones for it's bread.{Laughs}-Yes, well, actually, that would be a gaint.Now, ogres - - They're much worse. They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin.-No!-They'll shave your liver. Squeeze the jelly from your eyes! Actually, it's quite good on toast.-Back! Back, beast! Back! I warn ya!{Gasping}-Right.{Roaring}{Shouting}{Roaring}{Whispers} This is the part where you run away.{Gasping}{Laughs}{Laughing} And stay out!"Wanted. Fairy tale creatures."{Sighs}{Man's voice} All right. This one's full.-Take it away!{Gasps}-Move it along. Come on! Get up!-Next!-Give me that! Your fiying days are over. That's 20 pieces of silver for the witch. Next!-Get up! Come on!-Twenty pieces{Thudding}-Sit down there!-Keep quiet!{Crying}-This cage is too small.-Please, don't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again. I can change. Please! Give me another chance!-Oh, shut up.-Oh!-Next!-What have you got?-This little wooden puppet.-I'm not a puppet. I'm a real boy.-Five shillings for the possessed toy. Take it away.-Father, please! Don't let them do this!-Help me!-Next! What have you got?-Well, I've got a talking donkey.{Grunts}-Right. Well, that's good for ten shillings, if you can prove it.-Oh, go ahead, little fella.-Well?-Oh, oh, he's just - - He's just a little nervous.He's really quite a chatterbox. Talk, you boneheaded dolt - --That's it. I've heard enough. Guards!-No, no, he talks! He does. I can talk. I love to talk.I'm the talkingest damn thing you ever saw.-Get her out of my sight.-No, no! I swear! Oh! He can talk!{Gasps}-Hey! I can fly!-He can fly!-He can fly!-He can talk!-Ha, ha! That's right, fool! Now I'm a flying, talking donkey.You might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly but I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly. Ha, ha! Oh-oh{Grunts}-Seize him!-After him! He's getting away!{Grunts, Gasps}{Man}-Get him! This way! Turn!-You there. Orge!-Aye?-By the order of Lord Farquaad I am authorized to place you both under arrest ”

[lesbiandisaster17]

{Man} Once upon a time there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knigts had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but non prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss. {Laughing} Like that's ever gonna happen. {Paper Rusting, Toilet Flushes} What a load of - Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed She was lookin' kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb In the shape of an "L" on her forehead The years start comin' and they don't stop comin' Fed to the rules and hit the ground runnin' Didn't make sense not to live for fun Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb So much to do so much to see So what's wrong with takin' the backstreets You'll never know if you don't go You'll never shine if you don't glow Hey, now You're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold It's a cool place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now but wait till you get older But the meteor men beg to differ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture The ice we skate is gettin' pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire How 'bout yours That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored Hey, now, you're an all-star {Shouting} Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold {Belches} Go! Go! {Record Scratching} Go. Go.Go. Hey, now, you're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold -Think it's in there? -All right. Let's get it! -Whoa. Hold on. Do you know what that thing can do to you? -Yeah, it'll grind your bones for it's bread. {Laughs} -Yes, well, actually, that would be a gaint. Now, ogres - - They're much worse. They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin. -No! -They'll shave your liver. Squeeze the jelly from your eyes! Actually, it's quite good on toast. -Back! Back, beast! Back! I warn ya! {Gasping} -Right. {Roaring} {Shouting} {Roaring} {Whispers} This is the part where you run away. {Gasping} {Laughs} {Laughing} And stay out! "Wanted. Fairy tale creatures." {Sighs} {Man's voice} All right. This one's full. -Take it away! {Gasps} -Move it along. Come on! Get up! -Next! -Give me that! Your fiying days are over. That's 20 pieces of silver for the witch. Next! -Get up! Come on! -Twenty pieces. {Thudding} -Sit down there! -Keep quiet! {Crying} -This cage is too small. -Please, don't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again. I can change. Please! Give me another chance! -Oh, shut up. -Oh! -Next! -What have you got? -This little wooden puppet. -I'm not a puppet. I'm a real boy. -Five shillings for the possessed toy. Take it away. -Father, please! Don't let them do this! -Help me! -Next! What have you got? -Well, I've got a talking donkey. {Grunts} -Right. Well, that's good for ten shillings, if you can prove it. -Oh, go ahead, little fella. -Well? -Oh, oh, he's just - - He's just a little nervous. He's really quite a chatterbox. Talk, you boneheaded dolt - - -That's it. I've heard enough. Guards! -No, no, he talks! He does. I can talk. I love to talk. I'm the talkingest damn thing you ever saw. -Get her out of my sight. -No, no! I swear! Oh! He can talk! {Gasps} -Hey! I can fly! -He can fly! -He can fly! -He can talk! -Ha, ha! That's right, fool! Now I'm a flying, talking donkey. You might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly but I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly. Ha, ha! Oh-oh. {Grunts} -Seize him! -After him! He's getting away! {Grunts, Gasps} {Man} -Get him! This way! Turn! -You there. Orge! -Aye? -By the order of Lord Farquaad I am authorized to place you both under arrest and transport you to a designated..... resettlement facility. -Oh, really? You and what army? {Gasps, Whimpering} {Chuckles} -Can I say something to you? -Listen, you was really, really, really somethin' back here. Incredible! Are you talkin' to - - me? Whoa! -Yes. I was talkin' to you. Can I tell you that you that you was great back here? Those guards! They thought they was all of that. Then you showed up, and bam! They was trippin' over themselves like babes in the woods. That really made me feel good to see that. -Oh, that's great. Really. -Man, it's good to be free. -Now, why don't you go celebrate your freedom with your own friends? Hmm? -But, uh, I don't have any friends. And I'm not goin' out there by myself. Hey, wait a minute! I got a great idea! I'll stick with you. You're mean, green, fightin' machine. Together we'll scare the spit out of anybody that crosses us. {Roaring} -Oh, wow! That was really scary. If you don't mind me sayin', if that don't work, your breath certainly will get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some Tic Tacs or something, 'cause you breath stinks! You almost burned the hair outta my nose, just like the time - - {Mumbling} Than I ate some rotten berries. I had strong gases eking out of my butt that day. -Why are you following me? -I'll tell you why. 'Cause I'm all alone There's no one here beside me My promlems have all gone There's no one to deride me But you gotta heve friends - - -Stop singing! It's no wonder you don't have any friends. -Wow. Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest. -Listen, little donkey. Take a look at me. What am I? -Uh - - Really tall? -No! I'm an orge! You know. "Grab your torch and pitchforks." Doesn't that bother you? -Nope. -Really? -Really, really. -Oh. -Man, I like you. What's you name? -Uh, Shrek. -Shrek? Well, you know what I like about you, Shrek? You got that kind of I-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me thing. I like that. I respect that, Shrek. You all right. Whoo! Look at that. Who'd want to live in place like that? -That would be my home. -Oh! And it is lovely! Just beautiful. You know you are quite a decorator. It's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget. I like that boulder. That is a nice boulder. -I guess you don't entertain much, do you? -I like my privacy. -You know, I do too. That's another thing we have in common. Like I hate it when you got somebody in your face. You've trying to give them a hint, and they won't leave. There's that awkward silence. -Can I stay with you? -Uh, what? -Can I stay with you, please? -Of course! -Really? -No. -Please! I don't wanna go back there! You don't know what it's like to be considered a freak. Well, maybe you do. But that's why we gotta stick together. You gotta let me stay! Please! Please! -Okay! Okay! But one night only. -Ah! Thank you! -What are you - - No! No! -This is gonna be fun! We can stay up late, swappin' manly stories, and in the mornin' I'm makin' waffles. -Oh! -Where do, uh, I sleep? -Outside! -Oh, well. I guess that's cool. I mean, I don't know you, and you don't know me, so I guess outside is best, you know. {Sniffles} -Here I go. -Good night. {Sighs} -I mean, I do like the outdoors. I'm a donkey. I was born outside. I'll just be sitting by myself outside, I guess, you know. By myself, outside. I'm all alone There's no one here beside me {Bubbling} {Sighs} {Creaking} {Sighs} -I thought I told you to stay outside. -I'm outside. {Clattering} -Well, gents, it's a far cry from the farm, but what choice do we have? -It's not home, but it'll do just fune. -What a lovely bed. -Got ya. {Sniffs} I found some cheese. -Ow! {Grunts} -Blah! Awful stuff. -Is that you, Gorder? -How did you know? -Enough! What are you doing in my house? {Grunts} -Hey! {Snickers} -Oh, no, no, no. Dead broad off the table. -Where are we supposed to put her? The bed's taken. -Huh? {Gusps} {Male voice} What? -I live in a swamp. I put up signs. I'm a terrifying orge! What do I have to do get a little privacy? -Aah! -Oh, no. No! No! {Cackling} -What? -Quit it. -Don't push. {Squeaking} {Lows} - What are you doing in my swamp? {Echoing} Swamp! Swamp! Swamp! {Gasping} -Oh, dear! -Whoa! -All right, get out of here. All of you, move it! Come on! Let's go! Hapaya! Hapaya! Hey! -Quickly. Come on! -No, no! No, no. Not there. Not there. -Oh! {Sighs} -Hey, don't look at me. I didn't invite them. -Oh, gosh, no one invited us. -What? -We were forced to come here. -By who? -Lord Farquaad. -He huffed und he puffed und he...... signed an eviction notice. {Sighs} -All right. Who knows where this Farquaad guy is? {Murmuring} -Oh, I do. I know where he is. -Does anyone else know where to find him? Anyone at all? -Me! Me! -Anyone? -Oh! Oh, pick me! Oh, I know! I know! Me, me! {Sighs} -Okay, fine. Attention, all fairy tale things. Do not get comfortable. Your welcome is officially worn out. In fact, I'm gonna see this guy Farquaad right now and get you all off my land and back where you came from! {Cheering} {Twittering} -Oh! You! You're comin' with me. - All right, that's what I like to hear, man. Shrek and Donkey, two stalwart friends, off on a whirlwind big-city adventure. I love it! -On the road again. Sing it with me, Shrek. -Hey. Oh, oh! -I can't wait to get on the road again. -What did I say about singing? -Can I whistle? -No. -Can I hum it? -All right, hum it. {Humming} {Grunts} {Whimpering} -That's enough. He's ready to talk. {Coughing} {Laughing} {Clears throat} -Run, run, run, as fust as you can. You can't catch me. I'm the gingerbread man! -You are a monster. -I'm not the monster here. You are. You and the rest of that fairy tale trash, poisoning my perfect world. Now, tell me! Where are the others? -Eat me!{Grunts} -I've tried to be fair to you creatures. Now my patience has reached its end! Tell me or I'll - - -No, no, not the buttons. Not my gumdrop buttons. -All right then. Who's hiding them? -Okay, I'll tell you. Do you know the muffin man? -The muffin man? -The muffin man. -Yes, I know the muffin man, who lives on Drury Lane? -Well, she's married to the muffin man. -The muffin man? -The muffin man! -She's married to the muffin man. {Door opens} -My lord! We found it. -Then what are you waiting for? Bring it in. {Man grunting} {Gasping} -Oh! -Magic mirror - - -Don't tell him anything! -No! {Ginerbread man whispers} -Evening. Mirror, mirror on the wall. Is this not the most perfect kingdom of them all? -Well, technically you're not a king. -Uh, Thelonius. -You were saying? -What I mean is, you're not a king yet. But you can become one.  All you have to do is marry a princess. -Go on. {Chuckles} -So, just sit back and relax, my lord, because it's time for you to meet today's eligible bachelorettes. And here they are! Bachelorette number one is a mentally abused shut-in from a kingdom far, far away. She likes sushi and hot tubbing anytime. Her hobbies include cooking and cleaning for her two evil sisters. Please welcome Cinderella. -Bachelorette number two is a cape-wearing girl from the land of fancy. Although she lives with seven other men, she's not easy. Just kiss her dead, frozen lips and find out what a live wire she is. Come on. Give it up for Snow White! -And last, but certainly not last, bachelorette number three is a fiery redhead from a dragon-guarded castle surrounded by hot boiling lava! But don't let that cool you off. She's a loaded pistol who likes pina colads and getting caught in the rain. Yours for the rescuing, Princess Fiona! -So will it be bachelorette number one, bachelorette number two or bachelorette number three? -Two! Two! -Three! Three! -Two! Two! -Three! -Three? One? {Shudders} Three? --Three! Pick number three, my lord! -Okay, okay, uh, number three! -Lord Farquaad, you've chosen Princess Fiona. If you like pina coladas And getting caught in the rain -Princess Fiona. If you're not into yoga -She's perfect. All I have to do is just find someone who can go - - -But I probably should mention the little thing that happens at night. -I'll do it. -Yes, but after sunset - - -Silence! I will make this Princess Fiona my queen, and DuLoc will finally have the perfect king! Captain, assemble your finest men. We're going to have a tournament. -But that's it. That's it right there. That's DuLoc. I told ya I'd find it. -So, that must be Lord Farquaad's castle. -Uh-huh. That's the place. -Do you think maybe he's compensating for something? {Laughs} {Groans} -Hey, wait. Wait up, Shrek. -Hurry, darling. We're late. Hurry. -Hey, you! {Screams} -Wait a second. Look, I'm not gonna eat you. I just - - I just - - {Whimpering} {Sighs} {Whimpering, Groans} {Turnstile clatters} {Chuckles} {Sighs} -It's quiet. Too quiet. {Creaking} -Where is everybody? -Hey, look at this! {Clattering, whirring, clicking} Welcome to DuLoc such a perfect town Here we have some rules Let us lay them down Don't make waves, stay in line And we'll get along fine DuLoc is perfect place Please keep off of the grass Shine your shoes, wipe your... face DuLoc is, DuLoc is DuLoc is perfect ...... place {Camera shutter clicks {Whirring} -Wow! Let's do that again! -No. No. No, no, no! No. {Trumpet fanfare} {Crowd cheering} -Brave knights. -You are the best and brightest in all the land. -Today one of you shall prove himself - - -All right. You're going the right way for a smacked bottom. -Sorry about that. {Cheering} -That champion shall have the honor - - no, no - - the privilege to go forth and rescue the lovely Princess Fiona from the fiery keep of the dragon. If for any reason the winner is unsuccessful, the first runner-up will take his place and so on and so forth. Some of you mae die, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make. {Cheering} -Let the tournament begin! {Gasps} -Oh! -What is that? {Gasping} -It's hideous! -Ah, that's not very nice. It's just a donkey. -Indeed. Knights, new plan! The one who kills the orge will be named champion! Have it him! -Get him! -Oh, hey! Now come on! Hang on now. -Go ahead! Get him! -Can't we just settle this over a pint? -Kill the beast! -No? All right then. Come on! I don't give a damn about my reputation You're living in the past It's a new generation -Damn! {Whinnying} A girl can do what she wants to do And that's what I'm gonna do And I don't give a damn about my bad reputation Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Not me Me, me, me -Hey, Shrek, tag me! Tag me! And I don't give a damn about my bad reputation Never said I wanted to improve my station -Ah! {Laughs} And I'm always feelin' good when I'm having fun -Yeah! And I don't have to please no one -The chair! Give him the chair! And I don't give a damn about my bad reputation Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Not me Me, me, me Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Not me, not me {Bell dings} {Cheering} {Laughs} -Oh, yeah! Ah! Ah! Thank you! Thank you very much! I'm here till Thursday. Try the veal! Ha, ha! {Shrek laughs} {Crowd gasping, murmuring} -Shall I give the order, sir? -No, I have a better idea. People of DuLoc, I give you our champion! -What? -Congratulations, orge. You're won the honor of embarking on a great and noble quest. -Quest? I'm already in a quest, a quest to get my swamp back. -Your swamp? -Yeah, my swamp! Where you dumped those tale creatures! {Crowd murmuring} -Indeed. All right, orge. I'll make you a deal. Go on this quest for me, and I'll give you your swamp back. -Exactly the way it was? -Down to the last slime-covered toadstool. -And the squatters? -As good as gone. -What kind of quest? -Let me get this straight. You're gonna go fight a dragon and rescue a princess just so Farquaad will give you back a swamp which you only don't have because he filled it full of freaks in the first place. -Is that about right? -Maybe there's a good reason donkeys shouldn't talk. -I don't get it. Why don't you just pull some of that orge stuff on him? Throttle him, lay siege to his fortress, grinds his bones to make your bread, the whole orge trip. -Oh, I know what. Maybe I could have decapitated an entire village and put their heads on a pike, gotten a knife, cut open their spleen and drink their fluids. Does that sound good to you? -Uh, no, not really, no. -For your information, there's a lot more to orges than people think. -Example? -Example? Okay, um, orges are like onions. -{Sniffs} They stink? -Yes - - No! -They make you cry? -No! -You leave them in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs. -No! Layers! Onions have layers. Orges have layers! Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers. {Sighs} -Oh, you both have layers. Oh. {Sniffs} You know, not everybody likes onions. Cake! Everybody loves cakes! Cakes have layers. -I don't care... what everyone likes. Orges are not like cakes. -You know what else everybody likes? Parfaits. Have you ever met a person, you say, "Let's get some parfait," they say, "No, I don't like no parfait"? Parfaits are delicious. -No! You dense, irritating, miniature beast of burden! Orges are like onions! And of story. Bye-bye. See ya later. -Parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet. -You know, I think I preferred your humming. Do you have a tissure or something? I'm making a mess. Just the word parfait make me start slobbering. I'm on my way from misery to happiness today Uh-huh,uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh I'm on my way from misery to happiness today Uh-huh,uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh And everything that you receive up yonder Is what you give to me the day I wander I'm on my way I'm on my way I'm on my way -Ohh! Shrek! Did you do that? -You gotta warn somebody before you just crack one off. My mouth was open. Believe me, Donkey, if it was me, you'd be dead. {Sniffs} It's brimstone We must be getting close. -Yeah, right, brimstone. Don't be talking about it's the brimstone. I know what I smell. It wasn't no brimstone. It didn't come off no stone neither. {Rumbling} -Sure, it's big enough, but look at the location. {Laughing} -Uh, Shrek? Uh, remember when you said orges have layers? -Oh, aye. -Well, I have a bit of a confession to make. Donkeys don't have layers. We wear our fear right out there on our sleeves. -Wait a second.  Donkeys don't have sleeves. -You know what I mean. -You can't tell me you're afraid of heights. -I'm just a little uncomfortable about being on a rickety bridge over a boiling like of lava! -Come on, Donkey. I'm right here beside ya, okay? For emotional support., we'll just tackle this thing together one little baby step at a time. -Really? -Really, really. -Okay, that makes me feel so much better. -Just keep moving. And don't look  down. -Okay, don't look  down. Don't look  down. Don't look  down. Keep on moving. Don't look  down. {Gasps} -Shrek! I'm lookin' down! Oh, God, I can't do this! Just let me off, please! -But you're already halfway. -But I know that half is safe! -Okay, fine. I don't have time for this. You go back. -Shrek, no! Wait! -Just, Donkey - - Let's have a dance then, shall me? -Don't do that! -Oh, I'm sorry. Do what? -Oh, this? -Yes, that! -Yes? Yes, do it. Okay. {Screams} -No, Shrek! No! Stop it! -You said do it! I'm doin' it. -I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. Shrek, I'm gonna die. Oh! -That'll do, Donkey. That'll do. -Cool. -So where is this fire-breathing pain-in-the-neck anyway? -Inside, waiting for us to rescue her. {Chuckles} -I was talkin' about the dragon, Shrek. {Water dripping, wind howling} -You afraid? -No. -But - - - Shh. -Oh, good. Me neither. {Gasps} -'Cause there's nothin' wrong with bein' afraid. Fear's a sensible response to an unfamiliar situation. Unfamiliar dangerous situation, I might add. With a dragon that breathes fire and eats knights and breathes fire, it sure doesn't mean you're a coward if you're a little scared. I sure as heck ain't no coward. I know that. {Gasps} -Donkey, two things, okay? Shut ... up. Now go over there and see if you can find any stairs. -Stairs? I thought we was lookin' for the princess. -The princess will be up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower. -What makes you think she'll be there? -I read it in a book once. -Cool. You handle the dragon. I'll handle the stairs. I'll find those stairs. I'll whip their butt too. Those stairs won't know which way they're goin'. {Creacing} -I'm gonna take drastic steps. Kick it to the curb. Don't mess with me. I'm the stair master. I've mastered the stairs. I wish I had a step right here. I'd step all over it. -Well, at least we know where the princess is, but where's the - - -Dragon! {Screams} {Gasps} {Roars} -Donkey, look out! {Screams} {Whimpering} -Got ya! {Roars} {Gasps} {Shouts} -Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! {Screaming} {Gasps} -Oh! Aah! Aah! {Gasping} {Crowls} -No. Oh, no, No! {Screams} -Oh, what large teeth you have. {Crowls} -I mean white, sparkling teeth. I know you probably hear this all time from your food, but you must bleach, 'cause that is one dazzling smile you got  there. Do I detect a hint of minty freshness? And you know what else? You're - - You're a girl dragon! Oh, sure! I mean, of course you're a girl dragon. You're just reeking of feminine beauty. What's the matter with you? You got something in your eye? Ohh. Oh. Oh. Man, I'd really love to stay, but you know, I'm, uh - - (Coughs) -I'm an asthmatic, and I don't know if it'd work out if you're gonna blow smoke rings. Shrek! {Gasps} {Whimpering} -No! Shrek! Shrek! Shrek! {Groans, Sighs} {Vocalizing} -Oh! Oh! -Wake up! -What? -Are you Princess Fiona? -I am, awaiting a knight so bold as to rescue me. -Oh, that's nice. Now let's go! -But wait, Sir Knight. This be-ith our first meeting. Should it not be a wonderful, romantic moment? -Yeah, sorry, lady. There's no time. -Hey, wait. What are you doing? You should sweep me off my feet out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed. -You've had a lot of time to plan this, haven't you? -Mm-hmm. {Screams, grunts} -But we have to savor this moment! You could recite an epic poem for me. A ballad? A sonnet! A limerick? Or something! -I don't think so. -Can I at least know the name of my champion? -Um, Shrek. -Sir Shrek. {Cleans throat} -I pray that you take this favor as a token of my gratitude. -Thanks! {Roaring} -You didn't slay the dragon? -It's on my to-do list. Now come on! {Screams} -But this isn't right! You were meant to charge in, sword drawn, banner flying. That's what all the other knights did. -Yeah, right before they burst into flame. -That's not the point. Oh! -Wait. Where are you going? The next's over there. -Well, I have to save my ass. -What kind of knight are you? -One of a kind. -Slow down. Slow down, baby, please. I believe it's healthy to get to know someone over a long perriod of time. Just call me old-fashioned. {Laughs} -I don't want to rush into a physical relationship. I'm not emotionally ready for a commitment of, uh, this - -  Magnitude really is the word I'm looking for. Magnitude- - Hey, that is unwanted physical contact. Hey, what are you doing? Okay, okay. Let's just back up a little and take this one step at a time. We really should get to know each other first as friends or pen pals. I'm on the road a lot, but I just love receiving cards - -  I'd really love to stay, but - - Don't do that! That's my tail! That's my personal tail. You're gonna tear it off. I don't give permission - - What are you gonna do with that? Hey, now. No way. No! No! No, no! No. No, no, no. No! Oh! {Growls} {Roaring} {Gasps} -Hi, Princess! -It talks! -Yeah, it's getting him to shut up that's the trick. {Screams} {Screaming} -Oh! {Thuds} {Groans} {Roars} {Roaring} -Okay, you two, heard for the exit! I'll take care of the dragon. {Fchoing} -Run! {Gasping} {Screaming} {Roaring} {Screams} {Roars} {Panting, sighs} {Whimpers} {Roars} -You did it! -You rescued me! You're amazing. You're - - You're wonderful. You're... a little unorthodox I'll admit. But they deed is great, and thine heart is pure. I am eternally in your debt. {Clears throat} -And where would a brave knight be without his noble steed? -I hope you heard that. She called me a noble steed. She think I'm a steed. -The battle is won. You may remove your helmet, good Sir Knight. -Uh, no. -Why not? -I have helmet hair. -Please. I would'st look upon the face of my rescuer. -No, no, you wouldn't - - 'st. -But how will you kiss me? -What? That wasn't in the job description. -Maybe it's a perk. -No, it's destiny. Oh, you must know how it goes. A princess locked in a tower and beset by a dragon is rescued by a brave knight, and then they share true love's first kiss. -Hmm? With Shrek? You think- - Wait. Wait. You think that Shrek is you true love? -Well, yes. {Laughing} -You think Shrek is your true love! -What is so funny? -Let's just say I'm not your tipe, okay? -Of course, you are. You're my rescuer. Now - - Now remove your helmet. -Look. I really don't think this is a good idea. -Just take off the helmet. -I'm not going to. -Take ot off. -No! -Now! -Okay! Easy. As you command. Your Highness. -You- - You're a- - an orge. -Oh, you were expecting Prince Charming. -Well, yes, actually. Oh, no. This is all wrong. You're not supposed to be an orge. {Sighs} -Princess, I was sent to rescue you by Lord Farquaad, okay? He is the one who wants to marry you. -Then why didn't he come rescue me? -Good question. You should ask him that when we get there. -But I have to be rescued by my true love, not by some prge and his- - his pet. -So much for noble steed. -You're not making my job any easier. -I'm sorry, but your job is not my problem. You can tell Lord Farquaad that if he wants to rescue me properly, I'll be waiting for him right here. -Hey! I'm no one's messenger boy, all right? I'm a delivery boy. -You wouldn't dare. Put me down! -Ya comin', Donkey? -I'm right behind ya. -Put me down, or you will suffer the consequences! This is not dignified! Put me down! -Okay, so here's another question. Say there's a woman that digs you, right, but you don't really like her that way. How do you let her down real easy so her feelings aren't hurt, but you don't get burned to a crisp and eaten? -You just tell her she's not your true love. Everyone knowest what happens when you find your - -  Hey! {Sighs} -The sooner we get to DuLoc the better. -You're gonna love it there, Princess. It's beautiful! -And what of my groom-to-be? Lord Farquaad? What's he like? -Let me put it this way, Princess. Men of Farquaad's stature are in short supply. {Laughs} -I don't know. There are those who think little of him. -Stop it. Stop it, both of you. You're just jealous you can never measure up to a great ruler like Lord Farquaad. -Yeah, well, maybe you're right, Princess. But I'll let you do the "measuring" when you see him tomorrow. -Tomorrow? It'll take that long? Shouldn't we stop to make camp? -No, that'll take longer. We can keep going. -But there's robbers in the woods. -Whoa! Time out, Shrek! Camping's starting to sound good. -Hey, come on. I'm scarier than anything we're going to see in this forest. -I need to find somewhere to camp now! {Birds wings fluttering} {Grunting} -Hey! Over here. -Shrek, we can do better than that. I don't think this is fit for a princess. -No, no, it's perfect. It just needs a few homey touches. -Homey touches? Like what? {Crashing} -A door? Well, gentlemen, I bid thee good night. -You want me to read you a bedtime story? I will. -I said good night! -Shrek, What are you doing? {Laughs} -I just- - You know - - Oh, come on. I was just kidding. {Fire cracking} -And, uh, that one, that's Throwback, the only orge to ever spit over three wheat fields. Right. Yeah. -Hey, can you tell my future from these stars? -The stars don't tell the future, Donkey. They tell stories. Look, there's Bloodnut, the Flatulent. You can guess what he's famous for. -I know you're making this up. -No, look. There he is,  and there's the group of hunters running away from his stench. -That ain't nothin' but a bunch of little dots. -You know, Donkey, sometimes things are more than they appear. Hmm? Forget it. {Sighs} -Hey, Shrek, what we gonna do when we get our swamp anyway? -Our swamp? -You know, when we're through rescuing the princess. -We? Donkey, there's no "we". There's no "our". There's just me and my swamp. The first thing I'm gonna do is build a ten-foot wall arond my land. -You cut me deep, Shrek. You cut me real deep just now. You know what I think? I think this whole wall thing is just a way to keep somebody out. -No, do ya think? -Are you hidin' something? -Never mind, Donkey. -Oh, this is another one of those onion things, isn't it? -No, this is one of those drop-it and leave-it alone things. -Why don't you want to talk about it? -Why do you want to talk about it? -Why are you blocking? -I'm not blocking. -Oh, yes, you are. -Donkey, I'm warning you. -Who you trying to keep out? -Everyone! Okay? -Oh, now we're gettin' somewhere. -Oh! For the love of Pete! -What's your problem? What you got against the whole world anyway? -Look, I'm not the one with the problem, okay? It's the world that seems to have a problem with me. People take one look at me and go. "Aah! Help! Run! A big, stupid, ugly orge!" They judge me before they even know me. That's why I'm better off alone. -You know what? When we met, I didn't think you was just a big, stupid, ugly orge. -Yeah, I know. -So, uh, are there any donkeys up there? -Well, there's, um, Gabby, the Small and Annoying. -Okay, okay, I see it now. The big shiny one, right there. That one there? -That's the moon. -Oh, okay. {Orchestra} {Dulcimer} -Again, show me again. Mirror, mirror, show her to me. Show me the princess. -Hmph. -Ah. Perfect. {Inhales} {Snoring} {Vocalizing} {Whistling} {Sizzling} {Sniffs, yawns} -Mmm, yeah, you know I like it like that. --Come on, baby. I said I like it. -Donkey, wake up. -Huh? What? -Wake up. -What? -Good morning. Hm, how do you like your eggs? -Good morning, Princess! -What's all this about? -You know, we kind of got off to a bad start yesterday. I wanted to make it up to you. I mean, after all, you did rescue me. -Uh, thanks. {Sniffs} -Well, eat up. We've got a big day ahead of us. {Belches} -Shrek! -What? It's a compliment. Better out than in, I always say. {Laughs} -Well, it's no way to behave in front of a princess. {Belches} -Thanks. -She's as nasty as you are. -{Laughs} You know, you're not exactly what I expected. -Well, maybe you shouldn't judge people before you get to know them. {Vocalizing} -La liberte! Hey! -Princess! {Laughs} -What are you doing? -Be still, mon cherie, for I am you savior! And I am rescuing you from this green - - {Kissing sounds} -beast. -Hey! -That's my princess! Go find you own! -Please, monster! Can't you see I'm a little busy here? -Look, pal, I don't know who you think you are! -Oh! Of couse! Oh, how rude. Please let me introduse myself. Oh, Merry Men. {Laughs} {Accordion} Ta, dah, dah, dah, whoo. I steal from the rich and give to the needy. He takes a wee percentage, But I'm not greedy. I rescue pretty damsels Man, I'm good What a guy, Monsieur Hood Break it down I like an honest fight and a saucy little maid What he's basically saying is he likes to get - - Paid So When an orge in the bush grabs a lady by the tush That's bad That's bad When a beauty's with a beast it makes me awfully mad He's mad He's really, really mad I'll take my blade and ram it through your heart Keep your eyes on me, boys 'cause I'm about to start {Grunts, Groans} {Karate Yell} {Merry Men Gasping} {Panting} -Man, that was annoying! -Oh, you little- - {Karate Yell} {Accordion} {Shouting, groaning} {Chuckles} -Uh, shall we? -Hold the phone. {Grunts} Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on now. Where did that come from? -What? -That! Back there. That was amazing! Where did you learn that? -Well - - {Chuckles} When one lives alone, uh, one has to learn these things in case there's a - - There's an arrow in your butt! -What? Oh, would you look at that? -Oh, no. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry. -Why? What's wrong? -Shrek's hurt. -Shrek's hurt. Shrek's hurt? Oh, no, Shrek's gonna die. -Donkey, I'm okay. -You can't do this to me, Shrek. I'm too young for you to die. Keep you legs elevated. Turn your head and cough. Does anyone know the Heimlich? -Donkey! Calm down. If you want to help Shrek, run into the woods and find me a blue flower with red thorns. -Blue flower, red thorns. Okay, I'm on it. Blue flower, red thorns. Don't die Shrek. If you see a long tunnel, stay away from the light! -{Both} Donkey! -Oh, yeah. Right. Blue flower, red thorns. -What are the flowers for? -For getting rid of Donkey. -Ah. -Now you hold still, and I'll yank this thing out. -Ow! Hey! Easy with the yankin'. -I'm sorry, but it has to come out. -No, it's tender. -Now, hold on. -What you're doing is the opposite of help. -Don't move. -Look, time out. -Would you - - {Grunts} -Okay. What do you propose we do? -Blue flower, red thorns. Blue flower, red thorns. Blue flower, red thorns. This would be so much easier if I wasn't color-blind! Blue flower, red thorns. -Ow! -Hold on, Shrek! I'm comin'! -Ow! Not good. -Okay. Okay. I can nearly see the head. {Grunts} -It's just about - - -Ow! Ohh! -Ahem. -Nothing happend. We were just, uh - - -Look, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask. Okay? -Oh, come on! That's the last thing on my mind. The princess here was just- - Ugh! -Ow! -Hey, what's that? {Nervous chickle} -That's- - Is that blood? {Sighs} {Bird chirping} {Grunts} My beloved monster and me We go everywhere together Wearin' a raincoat that has four sleeves Gets us through all kinds of weather -Aah! She will always be the only thing That comes between me and the awful sting That comes from living in a world that's so damn mean {Croaks} Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh -Hey! La-la, la-la, la-la-la-la {Both laughing} La-la, la-la, la-la -There it is, Princess. Your future awaits you. -That's DuLoc? -Yeah, I know. You know, Shrek thinks Lord Farquaad's compensating for something,  which I think means he has a really - - Ow! -Um, I, uh- -  I guess we better move on. -Sure. But, Shrek? I'm - - I'm worried about Donkey. {Blubbering} -What? -I mean, look at him. He doesn't look so good. -What are you talking about? I'm fine. -That's what they always say, and then next thing you know, you're on your back. Dead. -You know, she's right. You look awful. Do you want to sit down? -Uh, you know, I'll make you some tea. -I didn't want to say nothin', but I got this twinge in my neck, and when I turn my head like this, look, {Bones crunch} -Ow! See? -Who's hungry? I'll find us some dinner. -I'll get the firewood. -Hey, where you goin'? Oh, man, I can't feel my toes! I don't have any toes! I think I need a hug. -Mmm. This is good. This is really good. What is this? -Uh, weedrat. Rotisserie style. -No kidding. Well, this is delicious. -Well, they're also great in stews. Now, I don't mean to brag, but I make a mean weedrat stew. {Chuckling} {Sighs} -I guess I'll be dining a little differently tomorrow night. {Gulps} -Maybe you can come visit me in the swamp sometime. I'll cook all kind of stuff for you. Swamp toad soup, fish eye tartare - - you name it. {Chuckles} -I'd like that. {Slurps, laughs} See the pyramids along the Nile -Um, Princess? Watch the sunrise from a tropic isle -Yes, Shrek? -I, um, I was wondering. Just remember, darling all the while -Are you- - You belong to me {Sighs} -Are you gonna eat that? {Chuckles} -Man, isn't this romantic? Just look at that sunset. -Sunset? -Oh, no! I mean, it's late. I-It's very late. -What? -Wait a minute. I see what's goin' on here. You're afraid of the dark, aren't you? -Yes! Yes, that's it. I'm terrified. You know, I'd better go inside. -Don't feel bad, Princess. I used to be afraid of the dark, too, until - - Hey, no, wait. I'm still afraid of the dark. {Shrek sighs} -Good night. -Good night. {Door creaks} -Ohh! Now I really see what's goin' on here. -Oh, what are you talkin' about? -I don't even wanna hear it. Look, I'm an animal, and I got instincts. And I know you two were diggin' on each other. I could feel it. -You're crazy. I'm just bringing her back to Farquaad. -Oh, come on, Shrek. Wake up and smell the pheromones. Just go on in and tell her how you feel. -I- - There's nothing to tell. Besides, even if I did tell her that, well, you know - - and I'm not sayin' I do 'cause I don't - - she's a princess, and I'm - - -An orge? -Yeah. An orge. -Hey, where you goin'? -To get... move firewood. {Sighs} -Princess? Princess Fiona? Princess, where are you? {Wings fluttering} -Princess? {Creaking} {Gasps} -It's very spooky in here. I ain't playing no games. {Screams} -Aah! -Oh, no! -No, help! -Shh! -Shrek! Shrek! Shrek! -No, it's okay. It's okay. -What did you do with the princess? -Donkey, I'm the princess. -Aah! -It's me, in this body. -Oh, my God! You ate the princess. Can you hear me? -Donkey! -Listen, keep breathing! I'll get you out of there! -No! -Shrek! Shrek! Shrek! -Shh. -Shrek! -This is me. {Muffled mumbling} -Princess? What happened to you? You're, uh, uh, uh, different. -I'm ugly, okay? -Well, yeah! Was it something you ate? 'Cause I told Shrek those rats was a bad idea. You are what you eat, I said. Now - - -No. -I - - I've been this way as long as I can remember. -What do you mean? Look, I ain't never seen you like this before. -It's only happens when sun goes down. "By night one way, by day another. This shall be the norm... until you find true love's first kiss... and then take love's true form." -Ah, that's beautiful. I didn't know you wrote poetry. -It's a spell. {Sighs} -When I was a little girl, a witch cast a spell on me. Every night I become this. This horrible, ugly beast! I was placed in a tower to await the day my true love would rescue me. That's why I have to marry Lord Farquaad tomorrow before the sun sets and he sees me like this. {Sobs} -All right, all right. Calm down. Look, it's not that bad. You're not that ugly. Well, I ain't gonna lie. You are ugly. But you only look like this at night. Shrek's ugly 24-7. -But Donkey, I'm a princess, and this is not how a princess is meant to look. -Princess, how 'bout if you don't marry Farquaad? -I have to.  Only my true love's kiss can break the spell. -But, you know, um, you're kind of an orge, and Shrek - - well, you got a lot in common. -Shrek? -Princess, I - - Uh, how's it going, first of all? Good? Um, good for me too. I'm okay. I saw this flower and thought of you because it's pretty and - - well, I don't really like it, but I thought you might like it 'cause you're pretty. But I like you anyway. I'd - - uh, uh - - {Sighs} -I'm in trouble. Okay, here we go. -I can't just marry whoever I want. Take a good look at me, Donkey. I mean, really, who can ever love a beast so hideous and ugly? "Princess" and "ugly" don't go together. That's why I can't stay here with Shrek. {Gasps} -My only chance to live happily ever after is to marry my true love. {Deep sigh} -Don't you see, Donkey? That's just how it has to be. It's the only way to break the spell. -You at least gotta tell Shrek the truth. -No! You can't breathe a word. No one must ever know. -What's the point of being able to talk if you gotta keep secrets? -Promise you won't tell. Promise! -All right, all right. I won't tell him. But you should. I just know before this is over, I'm gonna need a whole lot of serious therapy. -Look at my eye twitchin'. {Door opens} {Snoring} -I tell him, I tell him not. I tell him, I tell him not. I tell him. -Shrek! Shrek, there's something I want - - {Snoring} -Shrek. Are you all right? -Perfect! Never been better. -I - - I don't - - There's something I have to tell you. -You don't have to tell me anything, Princess. I heard enough last night. -You heard what I said? -Every word. -I thought you'd understand. -Oh, I undersatnd. Like you said, "Who could love a hideous, ugly beast?" -But I thought that wouldn't matter to you. -Yeah? Well, it does. {Gasps, sighs} -Ah, right on time. {Horse whinnies} -Princess, I've brought you a little something. {Fanfare} {Yawns} -What'd I miss? What'd I miss? {Muffled} -Who said that? Couldn't have been a donkey. -Princess Fiona. -As promised. Now hand it over. -Very well, orge. The deed to your swamp, cleared out, as agreed. -Take it and go before I change my mind. -Forgive me, Princess, for startling you, but you startled me, for I have never seen such a radiant beauty before. I'm Lord Farquaad. -Lord Farquaad? Oh, no, no. {Snaps fingers} -Forgive me, my lord, for I was just saying a short... farewell. -Oh, that is so sweet. You don't have to waste good manners on the orge. It's not like it has feelings. -No, you're right. It doesn't. -Princess Fiona, beautiful, fair, flawerss Fiona. I ask your hand in marriage. {Gasps} -Will you be the perfect bride for the perfect groom? -Lord Farquaad, I accept. Nothing would make - - -Excellent! I'll start the plans, for tomorrow we wed! -No! I mean, uh, why wait? Let's get married today before the sun sets. -Oh, anxious, are you? You're right. The sooner, the better. There's so much to do! Threre's the caterer, the cake, the band, the guest list. Captain, round up some guests! -Fare-thee-well, orge. -Shrek, what are you doing? You're letting her get away. -Yeah? So what? -Shrek, there's something about her you don't know. Look, I talked to her last night, She's - - -I know you talked to her last night. You're great pals, aren't ya? Now, if you two are such good friends, why don't you follow her home? -Shrek, I - - I wanna go with you. -I told you, didn't I? You're not coming home with me. I live alone! My swamp! Me! Nobody else! Understand? Nobody! Especially useless, pathetic, annoying, talking donkeys! -But I thought - - -Yeah. You know what? You tought wrong! -Shrek. I heard there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do ya It goes like this the fourth, the fifth The minor fall the major lift The baffled king composing hallelujah Hallelujah,  hallelujah Baby, I've been here before I know this room I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew you I've seen your flag on the marble arch But love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah Hallelujah,  hallelujah And all I ever learned from love Is how to shoot at someone Who outdrew you {Moaning} And it's not a cry you can hear at night It's not somebody who's seen the light It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah {Moaning} Hallelujah,  hallelujah {Thumping sound} -Donkey? {Grunts} -What are you doing? -I would think, of all people, you would recognize a wall when you see one. -Well, yeah. But the wall's supposed to go around my swamp, not through it. -It is around your half. See that's your half, and this is my half. -Oh! Your half. Hmm. -Yes, my half. I helped rescue the princess. I did half the work. I get half the booty. Now hand me that big old rock, the one that looks like your head. -Back off! -No, you back off. -This is my swamp! -Our swamp. -Let go, Donkey! -You let go. -Stubborn jackass! -Smelly orge. -Fine! -Hey, hey, come back here. I'm not through with you yet. -Well, I'm through with you. -Uh-uh. You know, with you it's always, "Me, me, me!" Well, guess what! Now it's my turn! So you just shut up and pay attention! You are mean to me. You insult me and you don't appreciate anything that I do! You're always pushing me around or pushing me away. -Oh, yeah? Well, if I treated you so bad, how come you came back? -Because that's what friends do! They forgive each other! -Oh, yeah. You're right, Donkey. I forgive you... for stabbin' me in the back! -Ohh! You're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings. -Go away! -There you are , doing it again just like you did to Fiona. All she ever do was like you, maybe even love you. -Love me? She said I was ugly, a hideous creature. I heard the two of you talking. -She wasn't talkin' about you. She was talkin' about, uh, somebody else. -She wasn't talking about me? Well, then who was she talking about? -Uh-uh, no way. I ain't saying anything. You don't wanna listen to me. Right? Right? -Donkey! -No! -Okay, look. I'm sorry, all right? {Sighs} -I'm sorry. I guess I am just a big, stupid, ugly orge. Can you forgive me? -Hey, that's what friends are for, right? -Right. Friends? -Friends. -So, um, what did Fiona say about me? -What are you asking me for? Why don't you just go ask her? -The wedding! We'll never make it in time. -Ha-ha-ha! Never fear, for where, there's a will, there's a way and I have a way. {Whistles} -Donkey? -I guess it's just my animal magnetism. {Laughing} -Aw, come here, you. -All right, all right.Don't get all slobbery. No one likes a kiss ass. All right, hop on and hold on tight. I haven't had a chance to install the seat belts yet. -Whoo! {Bells tolling} {All gasping} -People of DuLoc, we gather here today to bear witnss to the union.... -Um- -of our new king - - -Excuse me. Could we just skip ahead to the "I do's"? {Chuckling} -Go on. -Go ahead, HAVE SOME FUN. If we need you, I'll whistle. How about that? Shrek, wait, wait! Wait a minute! You wanna do this right, don't you? -What are you talking about? -There's a line you gotta wait for. The preacher's gonna say, "Speak now or forever hold your peace." That's when you say, "I object!" -I don't have time for this! -Hey, wait. What are you doing? Listen to me! Look, you love this woman, don't you? -Yes. -You wanna hold her? -Yes. -Please her? -Yes! -Then you got to, got to try a little tenderness. The chicks love that romantic crap! -All right! Cut it out. When does this guy say the line? -We gotta check it out. -And so, by the power vested in me, -What do you see? -The whole town's in there. -I now pronounce you husband and wife, -They're at the altar. -king and queen. -Mother Fletcher! He already said it. -Oh, for the love of Pete! {Grunts} -I object! -Shrek? {Gasps} -Oh, now what does he want? -Hi, everyone. Havin' a good time, are ya? I love DuLoc, first at all. Very clean. -What are you doing here? -Really, it's rude enough being alive when no one wants you, but showing up uninvited to a wedding - - -Fiona! I need to talk to you. -Oh, now you wanna talk? It's a little late for that, so if you'll excuse me - - -But you can't marry him. -And why not? -Because- - Because he's just marring you so he can be king. -Outrageous! Fiona, don't listen to him. -He's not your true love. -And what do you know about true love? -Well, I - - Uh - - I mean - - -Oh, this is precious. The orge has fallen in love with the princess! Oh, good Lord. {Crowd laughting} -An orge and a princess! -Shrek, is this true? -Who cares? It's preposterous! Fiona, my love, we're but a kiss away from our "happily ever after." Now kiss me! Mmmmm! -"By night one way, by day another." I wanted to show you before. {Whimpers} {Crown gasping} -Well, uh, that explains a lot. -Ugh! It's disgusting! Guards! Guards! I order you to get that out of my sight now! Get them! Get them both! -No, no! -Shrek! -This hocus-pocus alters nothing. This marriage is binding, and that makes me king! See? See? -No, let go of me! Shrek! -No! -Don't just stand there, you morons. -Get out of my way! Fiona! Arrgh! -I'll make you regret the day we met. I'll see you drawn and quartered! -You'll beg for death to save you! -No, Shrek! -And as for you, my wife, -Fiona! -I'll have you locked back in that tower for the rest of your days! -I'm king! {Whistles} -I will have order! I will have perfection! I will have - - Aaaah! -Aah! -All right. Nobody move. I got a dragon here, and I'm not afraid to use it. {Roars} -I'm a donkey on the edge! {Belches} -Celebrity marriages. They never last, do they? {Cheering} -Go ahead, Shrek. -Uh, Fiona? -Yes, Shrek? -I - - I love you. -Really? -Really, really. - I love you too. -Aawww! -"Until you find true love's first kiss and then take love's true form." -"Take love's true form. Take love's true form." -Fiona? Fiona. Are you all right? -Well, yes. But I don't understand. I'm supposed to be beautiful. -But you ARE beautiful. {Chuckles} -I was hoping this would be a happy ending. I thought love was only true in fairy tales Oy! Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all my dreams And then I saw her face Now I'm a believer and not a trace Of doubt in my mind I'm in love Ooh-aah I'm a believer I couldn't leave her If I tried -God bless us, every one. Come on, y'all! Then I saw her face Ha-ha Now I'm a believer Listen! Not a trace Of doubt in my mind I'm in love Ooh-aah I'm a believer I couldn't leave her if I tried -Ooh! -Uh! Then I saw her face Now I'm a believer Hey! Not a trace Uhh! Yeah. Of doubt in my mind -One more time! I'm in love I'm a believer Come on! I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe, hey Y'all sing it with me! I Believe I believe People in the back! I believe I'm a believer I believe I believe I believe I believe {Hysterical laughing} -Oh, that's funny. Oh. Oh. -I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I believe in self-assertion Destiny or a slight diversion Now it seems I've got my head on straight I'm a freak an apparition Seems I've made the right decision To try to turn back now it might be too late Now I want to stay home today Don't wanna go out If anyone comes to play Gonna get thrown out I wanna stay home today Don't want no company No way Yeah, yeah, yeah I wanna be a millionaire someday But know what it feels like to give it away Watch me march to the beat of my own drum And it's off to the moon and then back again Same old day Same situation My happiness rears back as if to say I wanna stay home today Don't wanna go out If anyone comes to play Gonna get thrown out I wanna stay home today Don't want no company No way Yeah, yeah, yeah I wanna stay home, stay home, stay home......... I get such a thrill when you look in my eyes My heart skips a beat Girl, I feel so alive Please tell me, baby, if all this is true 'Cause deep down inside all I wanted was you Oh-oh-oh Makes me wanna dance Oh-oh-oh It's a new romance Oh-oh-oh I look into your eyes Oh-oh-oh The best years of our lives When we first met I could hardly believe The things that would happen and we could achieve So let's be together for all of our time Oh, girl, I'm so thankful that you are still mine You always consider me like an ugly duckling And treat me like a Nostradamus was why I had to get my shine on I break a little something to keep my mind on 'Cause you had my mind gone Eh-eh, eh-eh, eh-eh Turn the lights on, Come on, baby Let's just rewind the song 'Cause all I want to do is make the rest years the best years All night long Oh-oh-oh Makes me wanna dance Makes me wanna dance Oh-oh-oh It's a new romance It's a new romance Oh-oh-oh I look into your eyes Oh, yeah, yeah I look into your eyes Oh-oh-oh The best years of our lives Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.............. Everything looks bright Standing in your light Everything feels right What's left is out of sight What's a girl to do I'm telling you You're on my mind I wanna be with you 'Cause when you're standin' next to me It's like wow And all your kisses seem to set me free It's like wow And when we touch it's such a rush I can't get enough It's like- - It's like Ooh-ooh Hey, what It's like wow Ooh-ooh, hey Hey, yeah It's like wow Everything is looking right now, right now It's like wow And I got this feeling This feeling it's just like wow It's just like wow You are all I'm thinking of. Like wow Everything feels right Everything feels right Like wow Everything looks bright All my senses are right Like wow Everything feels right Baby, baby, baby the way I'm feeling you Is like wow There is something that I see In the way you look at me There's a smile There's a truth In your eyes What an unexpected way On this unexpected day Could it be This is where I belong It is you I have loved All long There's no more mystery It is finally clear to me You're the home my heart's searched for So long It is you I have loved All long Whoa, over and over I'm filled with emotion As I look Into your perfect facen!