#this took MONTHS likes/comments/shares are super appreciated!!

[lockawayknight]

biggest project i have ever done... is FINISHED!! hey all, ✨i wrote an elden ring fan musical!!✨

follows an au me and my buddy shen have where alberich follows the path to lordship, and shows a simple version of the events that led to him making that choice. it's mostly a love story x]

features alberich, godwyn, mohg, gideon, rogier, ranni... and a few other cameos~

all art, music, vocals, & etc were done by me. godwyn's dialogue was written by my buddy shen, and is taken from some of our rps :]

this project took a lot out of me, but i hope you enjoy!! ty friends!!

[artsy-alice]

☕️ Ali Update

I wasn't able to leave anything on here, but if you've been following me on Twitter, you guys probably already know that I took a break during the past week to go home & spend time with family because we suffered tragic losses during the recent super typhoon here in the PH.

I put the last batch of Ko-fi Run pieces on schedule before going, so I might have missed some messages even though posts were being published on the regular.

Anyway! Thanks to those who sent lovely messages for me & my family while I'm on break. They're much appreciated. ❤️

And to everyone who shared, liked, reblogged and left comments on the #OctKofiRun24 art - thanks so much! Of course to those who supported the Ko-fi Run directly with their requests - thank you as well! I had fun with them & the funds were a big help during such a busy time for me this month.

I've hugged and cried my share for now and want to go back to making stuff, so! Just sharing that I wanna get some new printy things out specially new calendars, plus 2025 refills for the old designs, as the new year is coming, so I'll be working on those now. And a couple other art stuff, I think. ^^;;

Hopefully the rest of the year will be kinder to all of us. 💖

P.S. To anyone curious, re: the recent Twitter to BSky artist migration. I'm staying on Twitter/Tumblr/IG for the meantime as I'm too busy this season to consider moving things to another app right away. After the holidays tho, we'll see!

[queendomcosplay]

I want to just make this post to say a big thank you for all the love on my Pearl cosplay, share some more photos, and give some updates!

First off, I want to let y’all know I have some cool stuff planned for this cosplay! This cosplay is actually for a duo cosplay I’m doing with my partner, who is working on their Sausage cosplay right now. They’ve been working on theirs for a bit, and I’m so excited to cosplay with them! I’ve also been making plans for a big shoot for us, with a photographer I’m excited to work with. We’ve set a tentative date for the photoshoot next month, and we’re looking at locations right now for one part of the shoot, as the other part will be in studio. The places we’re looking at are super cool, and I’m excited to show y’all the results!!!

Secondly, I want to let y’all know Pearl and Sausage have both seen the cosplay!!!! Honestly, when I posted it I wasn’t expecting either of them to see it, as they’re both busy people, so the fact that they did and they both liked on twitter it is wild. They’re both comfort creators for me, so having them like something I’ve done is such an honor.

And thirdly, I want to thank you guys for all the kind things that you guys have said, both on here and my other social medias. Everyone has been so incredibly sweet, and seeing all the kind comments and tags makes me feel incredibly grateful. I’m gonna be honest, between work and being sick off and on since October, it’s been a rough few months, and I’ve been so exhausted I haven’t felt like getting out of bed most days, let alone getting into cosplay. I have had Pearl done for weeks, but haven’t felt motivated enough to get into her until the other night. I wanted to get into her for the finale of Sausage’s Saint Pearl lore (at least for this year), and I was surprised at how nice the cosplay felt to be in, and now much I missed this. Seeing all the love y’all have given my cosplay has made me super grateful that I’ve found this community, so thank you guys. You are all beyond sweet, and have made the last few days so much better. I figured I’d share this, as well as some other photos I took in the cosplay

Also, a bonus video I filmed for Tiktok

Thank you guys for all the love!!! Have a wonderful holidays for those who celebrate, and a fantastic winter for those who don’t! Stay safe out there, and know I appreciate each and every one of you 💕

[kawaii-angelanne]

TW/CW: (not very descriptive) blood and injuries

KEY TAGS: gender neutral reader, second pov, fluff and angst, established relationship, physical touch, hurt/comfort

WORD COUNT: 921

CROSS POST: ao3

OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it! reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated :>

SUMMARY: "But, you know that Kakashi always comes home. "

or where Hatake Kakashi comes home one night, severely injured.

When Hatake Kakashi leaves for one of his frequent missions, you always leave a space for him in your shared bed. 

However, you never face the emptiness to your right. Instead, you lay on the opposite side and eventually succumb to the irresistible allure of sleep after a toilsome day at the hospital. If Kakashi is gone longer than expected, maybe you’ll hug a pillow for comfort. 

But, you know that Kakashi always comes home. 

It’s not because you miss him so much that you can’t bear to see him not sleeping beside you. Rather, it’s so he can easily slip into bed with you, holding you close with soft whispers of affection and gratitude. 

In the early stages of your relationship, you would stay up all night waiting for him to come home, your work thus suffering. It took weeks of him leaving and returning from successful missions for you to relax. Now, having adjusted to his predictably unpredictable work schedule, you’re oftentimes asleep when Kakashi opens the bedroom window to let himself in (he says it’s faster as opposed to having to go through the front door, go up the stairs, open the bedroom door quietly to not wake you, and then join you in bed). 

In the past few months you’ve been dating Kakashi, you’ve found that waking up with his arms wrapped securely around your waist and nose brushing against your nape is much better than pacing anxiously around your bedroom floor.  

Thump!

You sit up in your bed, startled by the noise. Hearing a series of viscous coughs behind you, you immediately turn around and see the bedroom window open, the curtains fluttering from the wind. A cold draft blows harshly into the room, and you, not completely awake, make moves to close it before the smell of copper fills the air. 

Trying to detect its source, you find Kakashi slumped against your wall on the floor with his headband pulled up to reveal his right eye and, more alarmingly, the blood splattering his jonin uniform. 

“K-Kakashi!” you rip off the sheets, rush out of the bed, and kneel right in front of him, cupping his face in your hands. 

His eyes curve into moon crescents, but violent hacking immediately breaks it into pieces, “I’m…I’m home. Sorry for the…rude landing.” 

“What the hell happened!? What was your medical-nin doing!?” your eyes furiously scan over his body and then lock on the ever-darkening stain pervading his shirt. 

Rapidly but also carefully (to avoid further injury), you unzip his vest and raise his shirt to find an open slash across his torso. While it’s not shallow, if not treated soon, he can bleed to death by the time you get to the hospital! 

“Solo mission,” he answers briefly with slow breaths, “Enemy…caught me off guard.” 

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital first!?” you scold him while wiping away the tears collecting in the pools of your eyes. 

This was the first time you’ve ever seen Kakashi so horribly wounded. Yes, you’ve seen him all bandaged up when visiting him in the hospital after particularly dangerous missions. But that doesn’t even compare to him bleeding out on your floor. 

You try to calm your breathing and still your tears, preparing yourself to perform medical ninjutsu. As a medical-nin working regularly at the Konoha Hospital, healing a wound like this is standard practice. 

The only difference is you’re not healing patients you’ve never met before; you’re healing Kakashi Hatake, your partner in life. Of course, you value the lives of anyone who came through the hospital’s doors. But, if you messed up this one time, if you used too much chakra–!

“Relax,” Kakashi wraps his hands over your shaking ones, snapping you out of your anxiety-ridden spiral, “This is why I went straight here…Why go to a hospital…when I have a lovely…and beautiful nurse at home?” 

“S-shut up! You could have seen your ‘lovely and beautiful nurse’ tomorrow morning when you're properly healed at the hospital!” 

Still, his (frankly) annoyingly carefree attitude worked. With deep breaths, you manage to calm down and, after gently removing them from his, place your hands across his chest. The chakra pours out from your palms and into his wound. Throughout the healing process, Kakashi begrudgingly lets out quiet grunts, his eyes closing from the bitter pain. Slowly but surely, the cut closes up, and all that’s left is the blood to clean up. As a heavy sigh escapes your lips, you’re about to scold Kakashi again before he envelops you in a tight embrace. 

“Truth is,” he gulps, still weak from the blood loss, “I thought…I was never going to see you again…if I was going to die, I would have wanted you…to be the last person I saw…not some random hospital staff.” 

Shocked at the revelation, you merely return the embrace, burying your face in the crux of his neck. You don’t know what to say to that. You don’t want to acknowledge that, one day, Kakashi might never come back. 

“I can't say that I’ll always come back,” he says, as if reading your mind, “but know that…I’ll always try my damn hardest to…until my very last breath.” 

With that promise, you nod silently into his shoulder, your arms tightening around him. And the two of you stayed like that until the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, basking your room in orange and brown hues. 

ENDING NOTE: making good on my new year's resolution (write ≥5 fics), here's a kakashi hatake blurb that popped up in my mind after waking up. instead of studying, i have done this! so. i hope you enjoy teehee!

also pov: at the time of this writing, you haven't watched a single episode of naruto but really like kakashi!; now after 43 episodes, i believe that kakashi would never be in a relationship unless they knew each other for years since childhood LMAO)

[muniimyg]

Oh my god oh my goooood omgomgomg CHAPTER 16 WAS SO BEAUTIFUL, PAINFUL AND HEAVY BUT BEAUTIFUL. Like one comment, I didn't expect all of this when I started reading bbydaddy and wow that's a lot of plot... BUT I LOVE IT AND I'M HERE FOR IT.

Also I think the build up is crazy and the hype for the angst lived up lol. Nonlinear stories can be annoying BUT NOT IN THIS STORY. Srsly I think u caught all of us off-guard lol

Also also the 9 MONTH PERIOD LIKE WHAT THATS SO EXACT????? THE TIMING??? RAHHHHHH. Very super genius writer of u pls. Their whole "fight" was so sad and this is gonna be cheesy but it was also beautiful, being a moment to just let it all out.

HOPING FOR THE BETTER BEST FROM HERE ON OUT 🤝🏻 also also also thank you so much for writing and sharing to us, I'm very glad to have found ur account!! 💜

omgomgomgggg hiii

thank u so much 😭 i also didn’t expect bbydaddy to be this entire concept,, i posted it initially as a one time thing… now look where we are 🧘🏻‍♀️

LOL the build up was def smt… it was so hard keeping the plot to myself but also constantly editing and fixing the delivery of it. it was all worth it since u’re saying the angst lived up to the hype 😛 i feel like a psycho,, being so happy that this part took ppl by surprise and beat them up (emotionally)

idk abt super genius writer,,,, the 9 month thing was a fucking brain teaser for me HAHAHAHAHAA. i’m glad it worked out the way it did,,, i think if u reread their texts msgs and the other chs, it’s easy to pick up the hints and truths of their relationship. their fight and moment of grief was such an intention move… i went thru so many drafts of how the fight could organically unfold,,, i’m glad i went with what i posted! i think it was the easiest way to digest all the content being poured out

thank u for sending in ur thoughts! i truly appreciate them and find them so heartwarming. for my work to be loved and thought of the way u have expressed is seriously so meaningful to me. i am so glad to have a reader like u 🫶🏻

[lepoppeta]

REVIEWING MAINLINE POKEMON GAMES (Gen3 - Gen9)

I'm bored - let's review my favourite game franchise! I wrote this in a bit of a whirlwind, so please excuse any typos or odd wording! If I find anything I will fix it as time goes on.

I will not be including Legends Arcues or Let's Go! in this line-up.

WARNING: I rag on Gen4 (DPP and HGSS) a fair amount in this review. If you have a lot of love and nostalgia for Gen4, that's great! I'm not attacking you personally! Please don't spend your time writing angry paragraphs in the comments about why I'm wrong! You will not change my mind!

#1. BLACK / WHITE - Unova is probably my favourite region (which hurts to say; I'm a Hoenn girl, born and bred). It has so many of my favourite Pokemon in its 'dex (Chandelure, Krookodile, Volcarona, need I go on?); it has one of my favourite rivals (Bianca); it presents an interesting, open-ended moral dilemma within the Pokemon universe that doesn't really have a good answer; it has great music; it has a ton of memorable characters.

Also - unlimited TMs? Uhh... yes please! Gen5 introduced something that took some of the hoarding anxiety out of Pokemon and I will forever sing its praises for that.

Weird side note, but I loved the UI for BW; that weird monochrome high-tech display with the futuristic computer-like noises whenever you pressed a button or touched the screen really 'scratched my brain good', y'know?

#2. X / Y - If Unova is my favourite region, then Gen6 has to be my favourite generation from a mechanical perspective. I love both Pokemon Amie and the Super Training functions, both for their game-breaking, anime-esque battle mechanics and also because I was able to understand and actually access competitive battling for the first time due to the continuation of Gen5's unlimited TM system and the Super Training App's progress bar.

Mega Evolution will always be my favourite battle mechanic - the idea was so cool when it was first announced and I had a ton of fun with it while playing for the first time. It's so badass. And you know what? I really don't mind the change to the EXP Share. I got used to it very quickly and even when I had it turned out I still found the game to be a bit difficult in some places.

Also... don't hate me... but I kind of like Lysandre as a villain. I know, I know, many people don't, but I have a soft spot for antagonists whose whole mantra seems to be 'good intentions but they went too far'. Team Flare themselves are kind cringe though, I won't lie.

#3. EMERALD - I am so, so thankful Emerald was my first ever Pokemon game. I'm so thankful that I chose Mudkip as my starter; I couldn't have asked for a better partner as I fumbled through the game for the first time at the tender age of 9.

Emerald holds so many dear memories for me. It's soundtrack is, in my humble opinion, the best GameFreak has produced, from the beautiful, waltzing Surf theme to the encroaching terror of Victory Road. Steven was also my very first fictional crush and remains as such (sue me).

I will admit that where Emerald (and Hoenn in general) looses out is that, outside of Steven Stone (and possibly also Norman), none of the boss characters feel particularly memorable. Emerald also simply suffers from the lack of QOL improvements that later generations have. Strangely, I find it much faster to play than any of the Gen4 games.

#4. SWORD / SHIELD - This game used to rank much lower, but I've grown to appreciate it a lot more within the past few months.

I will be honest: I like it less for what it is as a product and more for how creative it's caused me to be when thinking about worldbuilding within the Pokemon universe. The Gym Challenge narrative switch-up was an interesting and refreshing shake-up for the series; the rivals and boss characters were memorable. The Isle of Armor and Crown Tundra DLCs are also great fun.

SWSH introduced the Box Link, which has been the best change the series has made alongside unlimited-use TMs and the Ride Pager in Gen7.

That being said, SWSH also half-removes the unlimited TM mechanic, which was frustrating. I'm also not a big fan of raid-style fights in any video game - I find them to be very stressful and needlessly hard. Gigantamaxing I also found to be a really weak battle mechanic. SWSH also has the weakest starter set for me. Inteleon is my favourite, of course, but it's the best of a bad lot.

#5. OMEGARUBY / ALPHASAPPHIRE - In my opinion this is the best remake that GameFreak has done (outside of two glaring issues). The characters have had a much-needed redesign; dialogue and story beats have been updated; the feel of the original game is still there alongside the QOL improvements from XY and Gen6 as a whole.

The aforementioned 'glaring issues' are as follows: the Battle Frontier is missing, and the fact that the games are based off of Ruby and Sapphire and not Emerald. And no, that isn't just the nostalgia talking; plenty of other people I've noticed have made similar comments about this game and also BDSP (which we'll get to later)

I wouldn't be so bothered by the Battle Frontier being gone (because the original RS didn't have it either) if GameFreak hadn't decided to put that little sign near the Battle Maison that said "Battle Frontier under construction". It felt like a nasty cop-out and it actually put me off of replaying the game for years, right up until I successfully Nuzlocked it.

#6. SCARLET / VIOLET - I have so many mixed feelings about this game that it pretty much ranks exactly in the middle of all of the games I've played. SV is plagued by its countless bugs and poorly executed open world, but its characters and story shine so brightly that it very nearly balances things out (the battle themes also slap). SV was also the first time where I felt like the main game was long enough and had enough resources to where I could truly experiment with my team; I rotated a selection of monsters out pretty much throughout the whole game, and I really appreciate SV for giving me that freedom.

Outside of the bugs, I also find the online raid battles to be stupidly difficult; I nearly drove myself to tears because of the Samurott raid that I'd worked so hard for and got nothing out of. I'm a very casual player for Pokemon, so it really bugged me that one of the few times I actually tried to do something a bit more competitively inclined of my own accord I was shot down repeatedly by an AI that was basically built to cheat.

This game also proved to me that GameFreak can't do a fully-open world properly, and I'm dreading the possibility of the next mainline game also being open world (and before you say anything - no, PLA is not open-world, it's open-pocket, and I wish that was the route that GameFreak went with because it worked so much better). I heard many people get irritated by SWSH heavily railroading you, but the game's environment was rich and beautiful despite its linearity. SV is big in a way that allows for GameFreak to boast about how big their dick game is and then not do anything with it: towns are separated by endless stretches of bland grass and rock; the towns themselves are lifeless props without any buildings to explore or interesting people to talk to; storefronts are reduced to a menu screen instead of having actual interiors.

Another irritation I have is that the game was marketed in a way that made it out to be that the player could do anything in any order they wanted, which ended up being untrue; Gyms and wild Pokemon don't level scale based on the number of Badges you have and one of the Titans (which, might I add, are just re-flavoured Totem Pokemon) is completely blocked off unless you've obtained the Herba Mystica that allows you to surf first.

Also that sandwich game looks atrocious. It's useful, sure, but... eugh.

#7. BLACK2 / WHITE2 - I've heard many people praise the ever-loving snot out of this game for being 'the best underrated Pokemon game ever made', but just like with HGSS... I'll have to disagree, if only from a personal basis. In my opinion, Black and White didn't need a sequel, and although this game isn't bad, it isn't exactly great.

I found B2W2 to be a regression of its predecessor. It turns a thought-provoking moral dilemma into the same-old 'I will wake this legendary Pokemon and unleash havoc upon the world and its idiots for wronging me'; Ghetsis is just a copy-paste of Cyrus to me. Too many times I found myself being railroaded by annoying extra content (Join Avenue, the Film Studio, etc.).

I also found the game to be a complete and total slog. BW is pretty grind-heavy, don't get me wrong, but it saves the majority of its heavy-handed level curves for the post game, where you don't have to feel as pressured by it.

GameFreak also completely got rid of Route 10, which had my favourite route track on it. That's just a personal gripe, though.

#8. PLATINUM - This was my first ever Nintendo DS game and also the first game I ever watched a walkthrough for on YouTube (shout-out to Marriland - you were a huge part of my childhood), so it holds some room in my heart, and it definitely ranks the highest out of all of the Gen4 games on this list. Unfortunately, like Emerald, it suffers from pre-Gen5 syndrome with a lack of QOL improvements (although it was a massive step up from the mess that was DP), and, like all Gen4 games, it's slow as hell.

I also ranked this game pretty low purely because of petty reasons. See, people talk about 'Gen Wunners' being annoying, but since I've never played Gen1-2 or have befriended people that have (I think I'm a little too young), I've never really had that problem. That being said, I think people who had Gen4 be their introduction to Pokemon are just as if not more annoying. I think it's got something to do with the fact that DP and Platinum had a lot of players that weren't Pokemon fans; I remember having friends in school that owned a copy of one of those three games and they'd never touched a Pokemon game before that and they wouldn't end up buying another game after. Platinum I think deserves the praise, but I'm not sure that the other Gen4 games do.

#9. SUN / MOON - Like SV, I have mixed feelings about the entirety of Gen7, but the negatives tend to outweigh the positives more often than not. The game isn't glitchy, but it's bogged down by numerous cutscenes and its inability to render a battle scene that contains more than one monster per side (something that Gen6 also struggles with). The Super Training app was also removed and the game suffers from having too many Alolan monsters be rare or inaccessible until very late in the game - something it shares with Johto.

The Z-move gimmick also feels like it was done it bad faith, especially after GameFreak started writing mega-evolution descriptions depicting the monsters in question to be in intense pain after XY and ORAS introduced the mechanic as something that could only be achieved by having a close bond between monster and trainer.

However, I do like the interesting take on the Gym system in this generation. The Totem monsters were genuinely challenging to fight, as well as other boss trainers.

#10. RUBY / SAPPHIRE - I don't have much to say about this once since it's just a worse Emerald, but there's still something I find about it to be oddly comforting.

#11. FIRERED / LEAFGREEN - I like Kanto's Pokedex quite a lot, but there's just something about it that I don't find particularly memorable and consider to be a bit of a chore (maybe because I've tried to Nuzlocke it too many times...?) I do appreciate it being a lot more interconnected than any other region listed, allowing more freedom concerning which Gyms to face next.

#12. ULTRASUN / ULTRAMOON - While the Ultra games fixed many issues concerning the accessibility of certain monsters and also introduced the Beach Point system, it also added even more cutscenes and, in my opinion, made the story worse; I loved having Lusamine be this batshit loony villainess, and yet that was recinded in favor of her having good intentions but getting too caught up in her goals to notice her declining behavior. Normally I like this sort of villain, but when we got the deliciously unhinged Lusamine as a first pass... I honestly liked that better. This feels like a cop-out.

This game, much like B2W2, is a total slog to get through. It feels immensly slow - it's the DP of the 3DS games.

#13. BRILLIANTDIAMOND / SHININGPEARL - This game leaves such a sour taste in my mouth. It really feels like GameFreak went: "Here's your Diamond and Pearl remake, are you fucking happy now?". It isn't like ORAS where the characters were revamped and QOL improvements from the rest of Gen8 were implemented; it's more like FRLG where the game is the same and all it received a fresh coat of paint, and even then I felt like FRLG was treated with more love and care than BDSP was.

There were improvements though, such as the ability to outright buy certain TMs from the Department Store and the wonderfully revamped Grand Unerground (I will admit I've had a lot of fun with the wild encounters there), but there's so much of this game that feels like getting spat in the face.

#14. HEARTGOLD / SOULSILVER - The game annoys the shit out of me because so many people seem to love it and I just... can't. Too much wasn't changed for ease of play - the level curve for wild Pokemon is far too low and the level curve from the E4 onwards is far too high. There aren't a lot of Johto Pokemon that are good, although there aren't many Johto Pokemon to begin with. The additions of some Gen4 evolutions helped a little, but some are blocked off until the post game (Honchkrow, Mismagius) and some are straight-up imposible (Magnezone) to acquire, which is very strange to me. Johto in general (and this matches up with BDSP's problem of being a remake but not adding in QOL improvements) is weirdly distributed, with Johto-introduced Pokemon such as Houndoom and Steelix only being available in the post-game, which I feel like defeats their purpose.

While by far the best-looking of the pixelated Pokemon games, it's as cumbersome as the rest of Gen4. And then there's that stupid Voltorb Flip game...

#15. DIAMOND / PEARL - There's not much I can say here, so I'll just sum it up by saying that Platinum is the only version of Sinnoh you really need to worry about. That being said, we wouldn't have Platinum without having DP, so... credit where credit is due?

[tal-vez-o-quizas]

Jumpscare: a Milkvan post emerged on my Dashboard!

Tumblr recommended me a Milkvan post out of nowhere!

I need to share it, wow.

I'm gonna remove the usernames though, because I don't want to cause a mess (even though they named Byler in the post):

Now, I don't go into the Milkvan tag, NEVER, so I don't know if some Bylers have really been going at it on their tag, which is not okay, but there are just so many things wrong in this, lol.

But first, these are the comments on the post:

I'm baffled.

1. Their scenes are super boring? Because they actually talk and try to fix their communication issues? Which actually works...

2. Them saying that Byler interactions "kinda boil down" to Will saying that he's sad and that Mike always agrees but mentions El only happened in S2, with the crazy together. Just that's one scene in the entire S2 and that's it, lol. Mike took it back to them right away and the fact that he mentioned El meant that he knew she will understand Will's trauma because she's been through something similar.

It is true that El is part of many of their interactions, but it's not the center because things tend to go back to Byler. Have they never wondered why though? Mike is unable to balance El and Mike. Will brought El in S3 because Mike was making a big deal out of El breaking up with him too, which seems fitting because teenagers do think those issues are the center of their universe, but her name is never unprompted or out of nowhere.

Also, El is part of many of the Byler interactions because they're in A FREAKING LOVE TRIANGLE that the show is throwing on their faces but they deny to see it.

Besides, Will and El are heavily paralleled in the show...

3. So Byler not having as many scenes of them goofing around and having fun the same way Milkvan "do" means they're not entertaining? It's like saying comedy is the only genre that is entertaining when you also have drama, thriller, horror, terror, sci-fi and more. They all bring many entertaining aspects.

Will and Mike do have fun talking, they have "goofed around" but that is not the chore of their friendship and connection. Notice how this Milkvan mentions that Byler have no fun because they think that being goofy is the only way we can enjoy a ship or like that is the way all couples interact.

4. Byler having no substance it's a lie and they pulled that out from their glutes. Even the GA, who are not shippers by any means, appreciate how beautiful and heart-warming their scenes are. Mike helps Will and Will does the same. It's a 2-way-street.

5. Mike and Will just argue and are sad together? Really? This coming from a ship whose main arc from the last 2 seasons have been their fights and how their actions make them both sad and insecure?! Really now.

6. When did we ever say that Milkvan is boring? No one said that. I think most of us just say that their pairing (powered-girl gets attached with nerd-insecure-boy) is very "been there done that" and that's it. We found them extremely adorable and entertaining in the first 2 seasons. They were annoying in S3 (like most characters that season, lol) but they were still entertaining. S4 brought the "I Love You" situation again and that was tiring, but it had a purpose and Milkvans choose to ignore why (Byler).

7. Lastly, Milkvan is a "healthy, functional relationship"? Oh, so El lying to pretend things are fine because Mike didn't followed up that "I love her and I can't lose her again" vomited declaration from S3 (which made her insecure and made her feel the need to paint a perfect picture to Mike) nowhere near any of the letters Mike sent to her for 6 months is healthy and functional? Sure. El always deviating from the main topic every time Mike has tried to apologize after an issue they have, without owning up to her mistakes and getting far away from from connecting and communicating properly as a couple is also healthy? Absolutely.

Feel free to add whatever you want guys, but please don't tag the Milkvans. I just want to hear your opinions on this nonsense, haha.

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

20 Questions Game for Fic Writers!

I feel like I've done this before, but like...definitely before a MASSIVE amount of my fics were released post-fest, so thanks to the amazing @ssmtskw tagging me, I'm gonna do it all over again!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

52 total!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

128,450 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, only RWRB. In the past, I've written some for Once Upon a Time.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ghosts

Volume Control

Retaliation

Do we still have forever?

Modification to the map of you

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! I live by comments, so I will always show my appreciation for every single one.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I suffer from this syndrome that only allows me to write happy endings, so the angstiest ending I've written still brings with it some hope. It's Darkest before the dawn.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think one of my newer fics, No fear, no fences, nobody - no reins has a pretty lovely ending. Lots of hope for a pretty blissful future.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet. Still waiting on my first hate comment. I'd love for it to never come, but you know how fandom can be.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Before FirstPrince, I wrote a lot of fade to black. Now, I dive right into wherever the story and the characters lead. The fic listed in answer #7 is probably the smuttiest I've ventured so far.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I haven't yet but I'd be open to!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, not yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not so far, but a couple are in the works!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

FirstPrince.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I once had a super neat idea for a Captain Swan kid fic, but I don't see myself ever finishing that one.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Henry's POV apparently haha. I'm just gonna spend the rest of my existence writing everything from Henry's point of view, and I'll be fine.

But honestly, as much as I never realized it, I think the dialogue is one of my major strengths. It took a friend @oneofthewednesdays complimenting me on my dialogue as well as hearing a podfic of one of my works to convince me that the dialogue I write feels pretty genuine and authentic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing anything except one shots lol. I'm working on something now that might become my first real multichapter fic that isn't cowritten, and I'm really excited, but also terrified that I won't finish it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done this! And I've received a ton of positive feedback from native speakers that I did it justice, which made me feel so good.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Pirates of the Caribbean.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh gosh. It's like asking me to choose my favorite child. But as many fics as I've written in the months since joining the RWRB fandom and as immensely proud of them as I am, my heart keeps coming back to quite possibly the best line I've ever written.

“Fuck,” is all that he can say, but even that tastes of Alex, of top shelf whiskey and the cinnamon he always adds to his coffee. Alex had spoken the word into Henry’s mouth on countless occasions, so he was all-too-familiar with the way it slipped off of his tongue so smoothly, as if the letters themselves were forged together just for him by some foul-mouthed god who knew the damage such a word might wreak in the possession of someone as fearless as Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

And this line lives in a little post lake house fic, the second fic I ever published in the RWRB fandom, called What If I Do?

Uncertain who's already done this, so I'm gonna leave this as an open tag for anyone who sees it and wants to share their incredible writing background with the world!

[ocean-anchored]

Dear Future Self... March 26, 2023

Sometimes I often wonder if I think I’m happy now, how could it get better?  There’s days that I feel like I’m not really excelling and I know I’m hard on myself in general and I often push myself continuously to be better, do better etc. but I always forget to not focus only on the last week, or few weeks but to remember how far I’ve come. This week I’ve had two comments that have really hit home for me. The other day Mitch expressed how inspiring I am to him, that with my faith and all that I’ve endured and gone through over the years he respects me and appreciates my heart. Today in church meliss was praying for me as I asked for prayer on how to be more open to discipling and allowing the door to be open for me to share about it with the people in my life and again she said that people see it because of my character. It’s not about the words but it’s about how I live my life and how I love fully and my character shines through.  It was so reassuring to hear that. I feel that I’ve been working on myself for so long that I forget how far I’ve come and what I have gone through. It’s as though all the years of hard work, heavy, painful days are paying off for such a bright future and an even brighter year. I’m so gracious to God that he ultimately was the one that’s gotten me through all the hardships in my past. I honestly can say that I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t turn towards God in my broken marriage and pursued Him to heal me, and oh how he’s healed me.  This week’s been another good week in the books. Thursday was Amber’s birthday and though John had to back out of coming to the Flames game, it was Abigail, Amber, Nathan and I and we honestly had such a great night. Went for taco’s before. Us girls talked almost the whole game. Like the genuine laughter. You know when you go out and you see a group of girls who genuinely look like they’re having such a good time, they’re laughing, their happy and you can just feel their energy? That was us. I can’t tell you how amazing that felt to be apart of that with some girls. That’s all I’ve wanted and I’m seriously so blessed. Friday night I invited Kamber to come to Anneriekes for our board game night which ended up being really fun. We stayed pretty late and Kamber really had a great time so it was really nice. Saturday I was supposed to hang out with Luke but he didn’t reach out again which is super annoying but also I just don’t care anymore. I’m done with putting my energy into that and potentially making plans or even just talking and it feeling so one-sided. Went to Play Unleashed for Rue’s birthday and nova did so amazing. I think I”m slowing figuring out her aggressiveness and where it comes from or what it’s stemming from. She’s been so amazing lately and she ran herself to death that afternoon. Today I went to church with Meliss which was really nice just us two.  I took it pretty easy this weekend thankfully because I’ve needed to re-coop again and it’s been good to just be home and get a bunch of stuff done. I think I’m ready for another week.  Less than 30 days until we go to Jamaica and I cannot wait. I feel like this next month is going to go by so quick with the games nights and plans coming up before Jamaica and then soon enough it’s going to be May and the weather will be so much more enjoyable.  I’m really happy.

[sleepysugabear]

Hi, friends. I've gotten a few likes and follows, which I truly do appreciate. I had wanted to respond to the comments, but my experience with Tumblr has mostly been as a lurker. I didn't realize that a secondary account (which this is) couldn't do social functions as itself. I'm really at a loss as to how to proceed.

In any case, I have seen your interest, and it really has helped. I started this account because I wanted a place just for this story. I thought that just by putting it out into the world, even where almost no one would find it, would re-motivate me to continue working on this fic. And I knew if I put it somewhere where a lot of people might find it, like AO3, I would feel super pressured and it would never happen haha.😅

It just so happened that shortly after deciding to do it this way, my Chromebook died. Fortunately, I had the files in shared online locations, so I edited and posted them from my phone. So feel free to point out any glaring issues in the formatting or grammar.

I'm currently on forced time off from work, as my office is closed for 2 weeks around the holidays. Knowing I was going to have so much time on my hands, and no way to continue writing if I wanted to, I broke down and bought a new laptop on a payment plan. It arrived two days ago, and I'm learning so much about laptops that I probably should have known already. But I've been using either a really old desktop or my Chromebook for several years. And before that I had a really old netbook that I used for writing, because it really couldn't do much else lol.

But I came here to say that I have seen the likes, follows, and comments. I do appreciate them, and they are working. I am working on the fic right now. Because 2:30 a.m. is just prime time for creative vampires. I don't want to post it until it's complete, because I hate WIPs that never get finished. I'm going to date myself here, but I had a Twilight WIP that I never finished, and it has been haunting me for a decade. And I would truly hate for even one person to actually read and enjoy my story and only get half of it. Especially when I have the entire thing figured out in my head already.

There are some twists and turns and things I've never seen before that I'm really excited to share. I really like them and I hope you like them too.

I'm really trying to figure out how to motivate myself. It took me 5 plus years to finish my novel. Well, one year to write the first draft and for some reason think it was ready. Another 6 months or so of rejection. And then a few years on a shelf and then 2 years of intensive work again before I was actually happy with it as an adult. Even then, I got burnt out after the nth revision process. Never resubmitted it to agents or anything. And only a handful of people have read it. At least one of them is very angry because she doesn't think I'll ever write the sequels.

So thank you for being part of my exercise and dare to myself to actually complete something. Small amounts of low pressure motivation and poking are welcome.😅

tl;dr: Thank you for your interest. I am working on this story, and will post it (here and elsewhere) when it's done.💜

[blkkizzat]

ty for tag remi pookies! ❤

• started writing ?

in my ff.net days. hmm when i was super young like 2012? lol ive only written bits and pieces of things and quit for like years at a time. this is actually my longest stint writing consistently lol.

• started blogging ?

i used to be obsessed with working out and keto/paleo so i had a fitspo blog which had a crazy amount of follower, thank god that blog is now archived lol. but i was casually reading jjk fanfics on here from like may 2023 to aug 2023 when i decided to make my own blog and start writing!

• followers ?

5.1k, and honestly many more than i deserve for being such a slow writer and for not writing at least 3 of the 9 months ive had this blog due to school/illness/travel. i edit ALOT and rework fics 10x over so i really appreciate all the positive feedback and support my work does get especially since it skews longer (5k to me is a short fic LOL) and i be spending 30-40hrs+ on fics. i know people like reading shorter things but i never feel like my shorter works are as good as my longer ones (i really have to be in a mood to write something under 1k). so it means even more that so many of y'all do read the long-winded shit i put out. thats why i always try to respond back to every comment and answer every ask cause i want y'all to know how much i appreciate it!

• communication ?

i will honestly talk to anyone and everyone! i prefer discord but like chatting on here too. i will drop by others asks and i love getting asks and talking to anons. i hope no one ever feels too intimidated to talk to me cause im just a loser pervert dork like otaku!gojo lmfao.

• likes ?

i appreciate the likes but i love the comments and reblogs with tags, those really keep me going. you dont even have to say anything profound just "i liked this alot" and i would squirt with joy istg lmfao.

• requests ?

are currently closed. im such a slow writer that i closed them at the beginning of the month with a goal to get through the 20 or so I have by the end of the year LOL! But i love hearing your ideas, if you wanna send me ideas or just chat about a headcanon you have feel free! im always down to share thoughts.

• writing ?

writing has always come easy for me in the sense of i have a huge imagination. something pos that comes from my dissociative daydreaming lol, it really puts me in the space of the characters/world and ideas just flow. once i just started writing about my daydreams and stopped looking for "plots" the ideas just wont stop coming! i wish i were a faster writer because sometimes i feel like imma burst if i dont get something typed out lol. they nag me in the back of my head lol.

i am working on techniques to become faster though (mostly cause i sometimes i over edit) like just writing without reworking sentences or pausing to think of better adjectives and being ok with being repetitive until its time to edit.

• fics you’re proud of ?

a bumpy ride - ok this is my most popular fic lol but thats not why im proud of it, it was my first time in ages writing 'crack'/humor. People telling me they laughed from my writing is such a huge compliment omfg. like im not funny y'all im just crazy, i swear lmfaoooo.

ghostface!choso, because it was my first time writing horror and writing for choso. i wasn't sure if i could do it tbh. it took me out of my comfort zone but i really liked the end product and like im obsessed with killer choso now lmfao.

plug!choso, hello?!!? i can write angst?? i wasnt even intending to istg lmfao it just came out and the story took a life of its own. crazy.

tagging some of my fav writers, no presh ofc: @tonycries @ohimsummer @yuutx @bunny584 @triangularz @bakubunny

@081231 @hoshigray @screampied @ramonathinks @arlerts-angel @nkogneatho

+anyone else bc i know i forgot sum ᥫ᭡

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[teinarhen]

i dont think ive drawn every month out of a year for...years lol. wild how getting obsessed with stuff motivates you x)

(i got the template from AsterianMonarch on deviantart, tumblr is weird about links so hopefully the link works lol)

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Star-Crossed: #HFT {1}****

Professor Chris Evans x OFC University Student Calliope “Cali” Jamison AU

Warning: NSFW, Cursing, 18+ Content, PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot,

Word Count: 12.2k

Synopsis: Look out for it in chapters 3 or 7.

Note: Another one because I can't stop thinking about this idea. I have been sitting on this for MONTHS because I wanted to wait until I wrapped some things up BUT life is short and I wanna share this. I have been thinking about this trope a lot. I am in no way condoning teacher-student relationships especially if said student is a minor and/or not of sound mind. However, I am a lot more open to a college professor-college student relationship. I prefer this trope to any in its subgenre/sub-trope even though it may not be ethically proper, depending on the debate you listen to. That being said I’ve wanted to tackle this idea of mine for some time and dipped my toes in with “Anatomy 101” which I wanted to expand on some time in the future.  Now, I am going to remix and expand on this professor-student trope. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Note II: Included is some Moroccan Arabic/Arabic in general. The translations are provided by Google.com. If the translation is incorrect, I apologize, please don’t hold it against me. Feel free to correct me, I don’t mind. 

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging. I appreciate it!!!!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!

****Characters in this Fiction Story are of legal age, sound mind, and are consenting through no dubious means. ****

**NOT Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derived from but not really a continuation: Anatomy 101

Chapter One: Desert Rose

“Cali, try not to wander too far tonight.”

You looked in the mirror at your father who was rustling through a folder of papers on his right while an ancient-looking book rested in front of him. It was his latest acquisition on yet another one of his excursions. His face never looked up from the papers. It was classic for her father, the man who was able to do ten things at once with two eyes, and two hands. Sometimes you thought his brain was a super machine that none other could rival. He always amazed you. Not just with his intellect or aptitude in his field but with his passion for what he did and how he lived his life.

It was him who instilled in you the desire to travel and find the answers to the world and humanity through travel, languages, literature, and love. He believed we were all connected through those three things and through those things could we better understand each other. He and these trips were probably the reasons you’d decided to transfer colleges and switch majors while tacking on a few more for good measure. If any little girl ever felt like their father was their hero, you were that little girl. He was yours.

He looked to you, and you took in his appearance with his glasses lodge on his nose bridge and his forehead crinkled from deep thinking. He was no longer a young man, but the years had been kind to him—very kind.

“Understood young lady?”

You rolled your eyes at his faux authoritative tone then sighed, “Dad, I’m twenty-two. I think the days of me being a young lady are long gone.”

“Twenty-one. Your birthday hasn’t come yet. We still have three months.”

“Two months and twenty-nine days, thank you,” you corrected.

He scoffed then shook his head. “You have your whole life to get old Calliope. Don’t rush it. One day you will be my age thinking where the time went.”

“I can take that as long as I am exactly where you are in your career,” you replied.

He smiled and put the papers in his hand down. “As long as you remember career isn’t everything. Living is most important.”

You thought about his words for a moment then continued applying your lip color. A silence that stuck for a few minutes befell the room. Once you were satisfied with your bold makeup application, you stood.

“Where are you off to tonight?”

“There is this lounge I wanted to check out before we left. It’s supposed to be real chill.”

“Ah, a lounge. All right, just remember our flight is tomorrow at five, and you cannot be late,” your father drilled.

“I know dad. I won’t be late.”

You readjusted your dress, smoothing your palms over the thin creases your sitting had created, then walked to your purse. Beside it, the vase of vibrant colored hibiscus flowers caught your eye. You traced your fingers along a delicate petal and plucked a red one out of the mass to arrange in your hair just behind your ear. Pleased with how it complimented your dress and the exotic look it gave you, you nodded to your reflection. When you got to your father you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t work all night dad. It’s our last night here. Who knows when you’ll be back. Take some time to smell the desert air.”

He sighed and looked up and through the panoramic window before him. No doubt the desert was calling his name.

“Don’t wait up,” you whispered before you scurried to the door.

“Don’t drink too much,” he called out just as you closed the door behind you.

You planned on drinking too much, taking part in some of the unspoken draws of Morocco, and dancing until your feet hurt. This was your last night of fun before the next chaotic and rigorous stage of your life began. You didn’t expect to have any free time to accompany your father on his work trips for the foreseeable future. As you waited for the elevator to open into the lobby of your hotel you took a quick selfie with the gold backdrop of the elevator wall. That and the warm lighting only enhanced your look.

By the time the elevator opened, you’d posted your selfie with a simple caption of red-painted kissy lips and a hibiscus flower. Less was more after all. As you walked across the lobby, you felt eyes flit toward you. You received several head nods and pleasing smiles that said the look was much appreciated.

“Can I get you a car ma’am?”

One of the hotel valets stood outside in his red and gold uniform waiting for your reply.

“How far from here is Shaida?”

“Hm, maybe a fifteen-minute walk or a five to eight-minute car ride.”

You weighed your options while looking up and down the street. The night was beautiful, the weather divine, and part of you wanted to take it all in.

“If I may ma’am, I suggest a car. After a two-minute walk, the heat will make it impossible to not sweat.”

You smirked then shrugged. “You might be right. Thank you.”

He stretched his arm out and seconds later a black car pulled up with one of the hotel’s drivers behind the wheel. The valet opened the backdoor for you then waited as you climbed in.

“Enjoy your evening ma’am.”

You thanked him just as the car pulled off. Settling into the seat you kept your eyes glued to the views that passed the window. Morocco was a favorite destination for you. This was your eighth time coming and each time still felt new to you. The truth was, Morocco held a special place in your heart, it was the land of your maternal side. Your father had met your mother twenty-seven years ago while he was fresh out of grad school while studying for his doctorate. He’d always said she opened him up to a whole different view on life. It was a view that influenced everything he did after meeting her whether it was professional or personal.

The savory scent of street foods cooking all around you made you moan and your stomach rumble, but you ignored it not wanting to get sidetracked. Only a few minutes passed, and the driver was pulling up to the entrance of the lounge. From the looks of the street, it didn’t look like it was a well-known place because it was so nestled off of the beaten path, but you didn’t care. After thanking the driver, you stepped onto the sidewalk and walked the few remaining feet to the door. Standing outside was a man dressed in street clothes with a makeshift bandana wrapped around his head. He looked you over once then averted his eyes back to scoping out the street.

Once you stepped inside you realized that the exterior looks were deceiving. It was a full house. The heady scent of flowers, incense, smoke, and a mixture of snacks hit you like a train and you immediately felt transported to a different time in history. The hypnotizing sounds of an Arabian Flute and the Bendir played cohesively together to make you feel like could have been transported back to the time of King Idriss of the Idrisid Dynasty.  

As you walked through, you scoped it out impressed by the sultry red décor that screamed both royalty and sin and taken aback by how smoky the place was. It didn’t take long for you to feel as if you’d made the right choice for the night. Finding a place at the bar you sat and adjusted to the vibes of the establishment getting lost in the music. You understood now who the man outside was, he was a scout. This was one of the few places one could come and enjoy Morocco with a touch of both modern and ancient. A man passed you puffing from a tube and from the scent of the smoke you knew the risk this place was taking. Hash.

“You have the distinct look of both a tourist and a local.”

You spun around to the woman behind the bar whose curly hair must have been the envy of everyone she knew. She had a mischievous smile that only highlighted her kind eyes.

“I guess I can be classified as somewhat of both,” you said.

The woman took you in a bit longer, fully assessing you.

“Ah, I see. Our blood flows through you but you are American.”

You smiled and nodded.

“In that case welcome. Blood is what matters here.”

She took a glass down and poured a clear liquid into a glass then placed it in front of you.

“What is this?”

She didn’t look as if she were going to answer so you did the only hospitable thing—knocked it back. Instantly, you knew what it was, Mahia. This was your traditional welcome.

“Mm, thank you.”

She nodded. “So, tell me, are you here for business or pleasure?”

“Me? Well, the business is done so I’m all about the pleasure.”

The bartender smiled widely and refilled your glass. “Then you have come to the right place. We have drink, music, dancing, snacks if you choose, and—substances.” She nodded to a passing woman who was also puffing from a tube.

“Let’s start with the first three and see where the night takes me.”

She smacked the bar, “I like you.”

She walked off to tend to another customer and your eyes followed and watched her pour another man a drink. Just behind her, you caught sight of a man who seemed out of place but also looked like he belonged. The glass in his hand was almost empty and the way he held it said a lot about him. Where everyone else would hold it fully, with the palms of their hands, he held it with just his fingertips. Nine out of ten people at a bar would hold the glass in the middle, he held it closer to the rim and the icing on top was him holding it with his pointer out instead of his pinky.

You’d been around a lot of men in your life -thanks to your father and his line of work- that you’d taken a large interest in your own life experiences, and you’d come across them all. Men who were meek and soft-spoken because they never fully asserted themselves and preferred for things and people to come to them. Men who were boisterous and presumptuous and assumed everything was meant for them and attempted to claim it all regardless of what anyone else said. Men who were easily overlooked because of their non-threatening disposition, and even men who were hard to miss because of their titillating mix of all of the above.

From the way he held his glass, to the way he sat on the battered wooden stool you could tell there was something different about him. You didn’t know what yet. You watched as he drained the glass, placed it on the bar then tapped the rim while making eye contact with the soulful-eyed lady bartender. She topped off his glass without a word then busied herself with the patrons around her. With the glass firmly between his fingers again he took another long sip while his eyes remained glued to his phone. Your curiosity piqued as an urge to know what he was doing overtook you and you got lost thinking of all the possibilities.

Heavy Arabic speaking drew your attention to your right. When you turned, an attractive man with deep-set brown eyes, a full goatee, and a man bun of lustrous locks. He looked like a blend of an old-fashioned but modern local. His full lips moved again.

“Aljamal almahaliyu.” {Local beauty?}

You smiled. You’d always found the Arabic language beautiful.

“American?” He lifted his brow as a look of uncertainty filled his features.

You snorted and took a sip from your glass.

“Aljamal almahaliyu wulid fi 'amrika,” you replied. {Local beauty born in America.}

The man smiled widely as surprise and satisfaction filled his eyes.

“Your Arabic is very good,” he complimented in damn near perfect English. The only thing that gave him away was his heavy accent.

“And your English is quite good.”

He held out his hand to you, “Deladim.”

You shook his hand.

“Cal.”

The softness of his hands contradicted the ruggedness of his outfit. His clothes said he could have been an explorer, but his hands said he was a masseuse. “Interesting name,” you followed up.

“Well, my full name is Abdeladim, but Deladim is what my friends call me, and Dim is what my lovers call me.”

His words were like a lite tap against your cheek out of the blue, shocking.

“Wow.”

Every time you’d come to Morrocco with your father, you’d been approached by plenty of smooth-talking locals who all thought they could snag an American for the night for their stories with their buddies. You never fell for it.

“Very bold of you.”

You turned your body back to the bar and continued nursing your drink as Deladim continued to give you his best lines. By the fourth line, your eyes slipped to your left to find the same man from before now watching you. His drink was ever present in his hand, but the screen of his phone was now dark. You had his undivided attention. There was something in the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made you feel like he darted an electric current right through you. Your skin tingled and that slight curiosity about his reading preferences had not transitioned into full-blown wonder over who this man was.

You didn’t know how long you’d stared at each other, but he was the one to look away first and when he did his luminescent blue orbs went right back into his phone. Before he lifted it to his face you glimpsed words. Was he reading a book in a bar?

“Took care of it,” the lady bartender said before you as she nudged her head to your right.

The seat beside you that was filled a short while ago, was now empty.

“A blind man could tell you weren’t interested,” she filled in.

You smiled, raised your glass to her, and took a mouthful of the strong liquid.

A short while later and a handful of drinks, you’d drifted over to the lounging area of the business where men were smoking and chatting up a storm, mellowing out to the soft sounds of Moroccan wooden instruments.  The smoke in the air only heightened the hedonistic vibes of your surroundings and you didn’t mind one bit. Feeling like wanting to take a walk on the wild side for your last night in town, you decided to partake. After a blend recommendation from the bartender, you got comfortable in a slightly secluded corner that was draped in red silk and shadows and lit up the hookah contraption. This was by no means your first recreational excursion.

Upon your first inhale, you moaned gratefully for the choice. Its aroma was similar to flowers but there were hints of fruit and smoked nuts but those did not distract from the strength of the drug itself. You leaned back, closed your eyes, and let everything that you’d been worried about earlier drift away. Nothing mattered, not the looming start date of your third year of college, not the stress of moving from one top tier university to another top tier university in the middle of your degree program, not the double stress of changing said degree program and adding two more on for a full-on double major with double concentrations. You knew the next two years would be your most rigorous and though you’d never admitted it out loud, you were slightly worried you wouldn’t be able to pull it all together.

A few more puffs and your mind was as empty as your glass. Across from you, your eyes met the stranger from earlier, and again his eyes were on you. Under this light and in this atmosphere, you itched to touch him. Seconds away from blurting a likely thirsty comment, you bit your bottom lip hoping that would stop the words. It barely worked; the urge remained.

“You look like you have something to say,” he said.

You instinctively turned to look behind you, but only came face to face with the wall. When you looked back at him, he smirked, lifted his glass then took a puff from his own hookah-like contraption. When he blew out you watched the smoke drift up in a hypnotizing swirl-like spiral. This wasn’t his first recreational excursion either.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His eyes met yours again while you sat there dumbfounded.

“Feeling jealous about it? Would you rather have my tongue instead?”

His smile was wider and again that spiral of smoke escaped. “I don’t know how easy you think I am, but I’m not that kind of man.”

You snorted then giggled unable to keep it in. He sounded like one of those women who used that as a defense to throw the man they were interested in off the fact that they really were that kind of woman -a liberated woman who never needed to make excuses for her behavior and was damn proud of it- but they didn’t want them to know that.

“Then what kind of man are you?”

He didn’t answer right away. He sat there watching you. His eyes roamed over you in the sultriest way, in a way that no others had traveled you. A small flame lit at the nape of your spine that made you sit up even more. Your body was on full alert for something impending, something that would change your life. Was it him?

After a long pause, he spoke, “You’re welcome to find out on one condition.”

Interested, you took a long drag from the tube and slowly swallowed before making an “o” with your mouth to huff out the smoke in a series of o shapes. He softly smiled before sipping his drink.

“What condition?”

His smile stretched. “You have to throw in some Arabic here and there.”

You smiled and that small flame at your spine went up a notch in intensity and location. You patted the seat beside you and waited to see his move. It didn’t take long for him to stand and walk over with his hookah contraption and drink in his hands. The closer he got to you, the more you could make out his outfit. The black appearing jeans he wore had rips at the knees and gave the peekaboo effect showing off his flesh and outlining what looked like slim but strong thighs.

As your eyes raked up his body, the semi-tight white shirt he wore gave you an idea that he either had a six or eight pack and that was when your teeth sank into your bottom lip. He placed the hookah down beside yours then sat in the seat that you’d patted seconds ago. The rush of air gave you your first whiff of him. He smelled like the incense that was currently surrounding you but also musky scents that were so similar to cedar or hickory and a touch of sweetness. It was completely masculine, completely unique to him with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, something different.

“How did you know I was speaking Arabic?”

He smiled, leaned forward, and took another long drag from the Hookah. As he blew the smoke out, he looked at you. “I know and can recognize tens of languages.”

“Do you speak it?”

He shuffled his head then shrugged, “Conversationally. I’m by no means a local beauty.”

You smiled hearing him tease you with what the man from before had called you.

“Cute.”

You took your own pull from your Hookah and allowed several moments to pass in silence.

“He wasn’t wrong though. You are a beauty.”

Your eyes met his but only for a moment before he looked down and into his glass. He swirled the liquid then downed the rest.

“Thank you but I’m sure you must say this to all the girls you meet in underground Moroccan clubs while smoking semi-illegal hash.”

He checked and it was deep, and it made you wonder what his actual laugh sounded like.

“I don’t meet any girls in underground clubs in Morrocco while smoking semi-illegal hash, much less talk to them. You would be my first.”

Your eyes lingered and you couldn’t ignore the thrill that raced through you.

“Oh I do so love exclusivity,” you said while batting your eyelashes.

It was an action he snorted at. A few more moments passed in comfortable silence.

“So, tell me, what is a Moroccan rose doing here? Business or pleasure?”

“Moroccan rose?”

A small shy smile spread across his lips and for a second you didn’t think he would clarify.

“It’s uh—your scent. You smell like Moroccan roses.”

You stared at him surprised he could smell you in a place so filled with so many smells.

“I didn’t know you could smell me.”

“I smelled you since the moment you sat down at the bar. Moroccan roses with a slight hint of hibiscus,” he said nodding to the bud still in my hair. “You’re quite distracting.”

He went right back to puffing from his Hookah as if he hadn’t dropped two very important facts. One, he noticed you as soon as you walked in and two, he found your scent distracting. Those were very good signs.

“Uh—pleasure, strictly pleasure,” you replied.

His head snapped to you, and you glanced at him with a coy smirk.

“I came for a bit of business, but it’s really been only for pleasure. This is my last stop and tonight was supposed to be the culmination of that fun. Sort of like my last hoorah.”

“Ah, a wanderer?”

You leaned back and sighed. “I have been known to wander a bit but not all those who wander are lost.”

The smirk on his lips disappeared and his head cocked to the side.

“Tolkien.”

You smiled and nodded, “A favorite quote.”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, instead, he just stared at you, locking your eyes. The look that flashed across his face made you curious. He looked like he’d just discovered something rare, seen something he couldn’t understand or explain. As soon as the look came, it went, replaced by one of awe.

“Gorgeous chaos, he mumbled in a hypnotized daze.

“What?”

“She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos and you can see it in her eyes.”

The way he said it made your heart race so fast you could have sworn it was audible over the instruments in the club. He looked as though he were looking through you, either right to your soul or to every little atom that made up your aura and all the stars of your being. In all your years you’d never been looked at like this. He looked at you like the reflection of the universe, and all of the galaxies could be seen through your orbs like he was so transfixed that if he dared look away the world itself would crumble around us casting us into oblivion, like dreams were made of this one moment and his dreams were all about me. Every woman wished someone would look at them like this and right now you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Let not light see my black and deep desires,” he added.

Fuck, you thought. You felt like he’d just cast a spell on you that pinned you right where you were. You watched his hand lift and move toward your face but before he touched your cheek his hand froze. Shaking his head, he dropped his hand while clearing his throat.

“God, I’m very sorry. I don’t know what—what came over me,”

He took a deep pull from his tube and kept his eyes forward. You cleared your throat and took another pull of your hash. “It’s okay. No harm no foul. Let’s just consider the effects of Charles Bukowski and Shakespear. A two-hit quitter.”

“You know those quotes?”

Blowing out the smoke, you nodded, “Yep. Charles Bukowski and Shakespeare, Mcbeth.”

He looked impressed.

“Wow, many would get Shakespeare because he’s a classic but not Charles Bukowski.”

“You shrugged. “What am I say, I’m a total literature snob.”

“All literature or just American?”

“All. The thoughts and writing practices around the world have always fascinated me. Did you know in some parts of the world the style often reflects societal beliefs of love?”

You could feel yourself running to the edge and prepared to jump off it though you remembered the looks most of your exes and flings gave you whenever you went off on a tangent about literature and love. It didn’t stop you.

“Through research and travel I find that though every area in the world relates to love, African and Middle Eastern literature whether novels, memoirs, or even poetry showcase it in such a way that one cannot miss the sentiment of love.”

Without giving him a moment to interject, you continued pointing out things your father had shown you on this trip. Things that were from well over two hundred years ago. You’d spent hours lost in the texts just immersing yourself in what life and love were like then. By the time you stopped speaking and your eyes returned to him, you’d realized you’d done it again.

“Uh--,” you awkwardly began trying to find the words to smooth things over or show him you weren’t so bookworm. However, the words escaped you. Sighing you continued, “I’m sorry I just—do that sometimes. I’ll stop.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your intelligence and passion for learning. A well-read mind is a beautiful mind and yours I can already tell would make many drunk off its beauty.”

He had a way with words—a beautiful, sensual, and sweet way, a way that made you eager to know more about him. A slow smile spread across your lips before you dipped your head feeling the full weight of your self-consciousness.

“Um--.”

“I’m Chris.”

He held his hand out to you waiting for you to take it. After a few moments of contemplation, you took it.

“Cali.”

Shaking his hand, you allowed yours to linger for a bit longer than necessary, as did he. It was your turn to get lost in his eyes, his impossibly deep eyes that somehow in the dark shone bright blue. You both released each other at the same time but your hands rested on the seat between you, so close but so far.

“Tell me more about literature steeped in love.”

You smiled then continued not needing any more of an invite. The next several hours passed with the two of you in an enthralling conversation about literature of all sorts and the differences between cultures, beliefs, and even society. You tapped into your knowledge from your major and all that you’ve learned over the last two and a half years on top of the things you’d discovered while traveling with your father. The more you talked about the topic the more you realized you’d made the right decision in changing your major and eventual career path.

When Chris tuned in and added his own findings and experiences you couldn’t help but sit there mesmerized by his intellect. You’d always had a weakness for a smart man. This man happened to be blessed with brains and beauty—a deadly combination. All you wanted to do when he spoke was listen and pay attention. There was something commanding about him, something that demanded attention.

“Am I boring you?”

“Huh? What?”

He smirked then bit his bottom lip and your eyes dropped to them.

“You’re staring like you’re lost,” Chris explained.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I was listening to you just—lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking?”

You looked around the room and realized that there were plenty more people who’d wandered in and the new additions made the club louder. You knew then that you’d been sitting here much longer than you’d thought. You roamed your eyes over him resigning to your fate. It had to have been fate. A man who looked like him, who was your type in every way that mattered, who checked every intelligence criteria box you had and made you want to do such bad, dirty, nasty things too. Talking to him had only intensified your desire for him.

“Highly inappropriate things,” you said before grabbing your freshly refilled glass to take a sip.

“Care to share with the class?”

Resting your hand on the back of the seat, you nudged your jaw in your palm and gazed at him trying to decide if you were drunk enough.

“What if your highly inappropriate thoughts match mine?”

Your belly fluttered. Was he saying that he has also been having inappropriate thoughts about you this whole time? You were at a loss for words and that was rare. His amusement twinkled in his eyes but there was something else there—seduction.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

His lips quirked before he tipped his glass to them.

“Me?”

He scoffed. “I don’t think I have one seductive bone in my body.”

He had to be kidding. You’d been trying to find one unattractive thing about him for hours, just one and every attempt was a failure.

“I’ve been sitting here with you for the last few hours, and I doubt that very much.”

Chris smiled and under the colored lights, you could have sworn you saw him bite his bottom lip. It was a quick action but done in such a sensual way that goosebumps pricked your skin.

“Have I seduced you, Cali?

“It could be that you have, or it could be these never-ending drinks, or the hash and whatever else is in the air. Who’s to say.”

“See, told you, not one seductive bone in me. You on the other hand--.”

“What about me?”

Chris looked like he was weighing the pros and cons of divulging this information.

“Foreswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night!”

A giddy giggle escaped you and you clamped your hand over your mouth a tab bit too late. Chris laughed joining in with your laughter.

“Oh my god,” you said before an abomination came out of your mouth in the sound of a snort, straight-up Steve Urkle style.

Horrified your eyes widened but Chris only laughed harder, clapping his hand over his chest. He didn’t look to mind. “Cute”.

As if the compliment was the incantation to opening King Midas’ doors, you slid closer realizing somehow your bodies had naturally drifted closer to one another already. Now he was only a few inches from you. Again, Chris’s hand rose and traveled to you, this time he didn’t stop until he was centimeters from you.

“May I?”

You nodded. The back of his hand touched your jaw softly, then he slowly trailed It up to your ear before turning it so he cupped your cheek. The heat from his palm seared your skin in the most delicious way making your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Are you saying my beauty has seduced you?”

Chris didn’t speak at once; he just allowed his thumb to skitter across your cheek in feather-lite touches, but they couldn’t be missed. Your skin tingled, heart raced, and stomach knotted. His effect on you was so instantaneous that you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Cali—I dare say that you have bewitched my mind--.” His thumb slid across your bottom lip.

“--My eyes--.” Now it was pulling your bottom lip down ever so slightly feeling.

“--And my curiosity with far more than your beauty.”

On instinct, you caught the tip of his thumb between your teeth and but down—not enough to hurt though. A deep groan fell from him, and holy hell did it sound sexy as fuck. Not only did your brain think so but so did your body, the evidence was the slickness between your legs. You watched his face drift closer and closer to yours but when he was a few inches from your lips he stopped and waited. You were confused for only a few seconds when it dawned on you, he wanted you to have equal say in how this moment played out. He wanted to know that you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you. 

Chris's eyes were on yours searching but patiently waiting. They flited between your eyes and your lips, and you wanted to know how patient of a man he was. As if he heard your thoughts, he smirked.

“I am a very patient man, Cali. I could make you break before you me.”

The cockiness coming off of him only heightened your attraction to him. Any other time when it hadn’t been over six months since you’d been with someone or with any other man that didn’t look like him or think like him you would have enjoyed making him eat those words. Tonight—you’d rather him eat something else. With a smirk of your own, you crashed your lips to his and showed him how much you wanted to kiss him.

Chris moaned on your mouth, allowing you to lead the action. His lips felt at home on yours, a perfect fit, and the electricity crackling through you said they were possibly meant for yours. That electricity is what made you pull back to look at him. Did he feel it too? The look in his eyes said he had felt it and it was having the same effect on him.

“Holy shit,” you said.

A wide smile lit his face and this time both of you took lead slamming your lips together again. His hands were on you in seconds, one pulling you flush against his upper half, the other cupping your skull, holding your head in place as he kissed you senseless and into the most frenzied state of arousal you’d ever been in. You wanted this man—this man you only knew a handful of things about—this man you’d only known for a few hours. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything.

Dipping your tongue into his mouth, you wrapped it around his, but he beat you to what happened next. Chris sucked your tongue in a slow sensual rhythm. With each one, you moaned and with each moan, Chris held you closer. You didn’t know if the rapid pounding against your breasts was his heart or yours and you doubted it mattered. When Chris nibbled your bottom lip, you whimpered and gripped him at his waist, crumpling his crisp white t-shirt. You didn’t know when it happened but when you felt the hard rippled ridges on him you realized your hand had somehow made it underneath his shirt. His body quivered while a shudder slipped from his lips.

“The way I react to you and you to me,” he croaked out, his voice husky, raw, and full of desire. “It’s intoxicating.”

You smiled and tipped your tongue out to trace along his lips. He sat there still letting you explore the taste of him. The more you tasted the more you wanted and without warning, he bit your tongue and sucked it into his mouth pulling you into another soul-swapping kiss.

“Christ! Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You moved your face until there were a few inches between your lips and peered into his eyes. You were met by the same patience, the same self-control but now it was not as tightly bound. You nodded first, then spoke, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded again with a smile. “Let’s go.”

Both of you stood and went into motion in unison, him making a move to the bar to settle both of your tabs while you to the restrooms to touch yourself up. A few minutes later, you met him at the door then dipped into a waiting taxi. You got lost in the view once it pulled around the corner to show the darkened beach but when you felt a large hand rest just above your knee at your thigh your attention went right back to where it belonged.

Sitting beside you, he looked like a man who’d made up his mind to seduce you, his eyelashes were low, eyes a mixture of bright blue in color but heavy in headiness. If seduction was a person, he was sitting across from you. Biting your bottom lip, you sucked it into your mouth. Chris’ hand inched higher and higher until it was halfway up your thigh with his fingers kneading the fleshiest part of your inner thigh. A soft moan escaped you.

His reaction was a pleased smile that instantly made you feel shy. Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you turned your head from him to the window and giggled behind it. His fingers never stopped kneading and the more they moved the more you wanted to moan. You liked them on you. suddenly you felt his nose nuzzle your ear.

“God, you’re sexy. I can’t wait to hear that moan loud and clear,” he whispered.

If the eyes of the taxi driver weren’t steadily peeping into the rearview mirror at the two of you, you would have stuck your tongue down his throat. Keeping some equanimity about you; you put your hand on his thigh a few inches from his inseam and squeezed. His groan was guttural and filled with so much yearning your belly did backflips from anticipation.

Before you knew it, the car stopped. Chris thanked the driver, then came around to open your door. With his hand held out, he waited for you to place yours in it. Giddiness took over and you took his hand. He then pulled you out of the car flush against him. You giggled again and allowed him to wrap his arms around your waist as he dropped a teasing open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. He cupped your skull and kept you right where he wanted you as he tasted your neck. You easily got lost in the sensation and the way his lips sent tingles all through you.

“Moroccan rose will be my favorite scent for the rest of my life now,” he mumbled against you.

“Such a sweet talker.”

Chris yanked the back of your neck and crashed his lips to yours, rolling his tongue with yours and nipping at your lips. Moaning you wrapped your arms around him his neck and sagged against him. He began walking backward but he held you tightly never making you feel like you would fall. You felt sand between your toes and that fact was so startling you broke the kiss. When you glanced around you saw the desert before you.

“Oh my god, I thought we were going to your hotel.”

“I didn’t book one. That’s where I’m staying,”, he said pointing off to the right.

A large tent was pitched, and it bellowed with the gentle night breeze.

“A tent? Are you camping?”

“With a view like this, I couldn’t bear to have walls separating me from it. Trust me it’s not as rustic as you’re thinking. Come on.”

Chris took your hand and lead the way to the wood-planked walkway. As he led you, you took notice of the other pitched tents in the vicinity. They weren’t miles away, but they definitely weren’t close enough to be nosey. When you got to the entrance, he unzipped the flap and lifted it allowing you to go in first. When you stepped inside it was like stepping into a little piece of ancient Morocco. This was glamping.

The lanterns around the space were lit and decorative images danced around the roof and walls of the tent. It was beautiful.

“Wow.”

“Like it?”

You nodded. He took your hand again and led you to the back through another flap. To the back, there was a deck, and it showed the vastness of the desert. Where sand touched the sky, the indigo glow was breathtaking. Here the stars were the most visible.

“Wow—incredible.”

You got lost in the stars searching for your favorite constellations.

“Wow, I can see Hercules,” you said pointing out the constellation to the right. “And Canis Major, my god you can clearly see how it resembles a dog. Look.”

Your voice betrayed your excitement. That excitement was how you didn't realize how close he was until you felt his arms wrap around your stomach. His bearded chin nestled in the crook where your shoulder and neck met.

“There is Altair and over there is Vega. Do you know their story?”

You shook your head. Before he spoke again, he kissed a path from your neck to your ear then back down.

“Vega was a celestial princess, one of the goddesses of the sky. That meant she was immortal. Though she was immortal that didn’t stop her from worrying about what everyone else in this world desires--.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder and snapped the thin strap of your dress. With his teeth, he pulled it off your shoulder and then brought kisses back up your shoulder.

“She was worried as it seemed she would live in eternity alone without an everlasting love. Love that she’d watched plenty a mortal obtain.”

He trailed kisses along the back of your neck to your other shoulder and mirrored the same actions. With your straps off your shoulders, the material began to sag off your body. Your skin was cool thanks to the breeze but just beneath the surface you were sweltering, and it was his doing.

“One day Altair, a mere mortal, caught the eye of Vega from her celestial perch. She was so besotted with his beauty and his form that--.”

His large hands slipped a little higher to untie the strings just underneath your breasts. From there it was an easy slide for the dress to fall to your ankles.

“She descended from the heavens to greet him--.”

He turned you to face him then stepped back and slowly looked over your naked body. The heat in his eyes could have ignited sand itself.

“They fell deeply in love. It was a love poetry and plays were written about. A love so all-encompassing, so passionate, so life-altering. They lived every day of his mortal life together until they both retired to the skies to never part for all eternity.”

His voice alone could give orgasms, it was that hypnotizing, that enticing. That coupled with the way he was looking at you in this moment it was impossible to not squirm.

“You give Byron’s words new meaning. She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus, mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

Fuck, you thought as a fresh gush of moisture dampened your panties.

“You’re beautiful Cali—so beautiful.”

The wind blew but before you could shiver, he was there shielding you, holding you close, caressing your skin tracing a path of fire and desire up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. When he cupped your jaw, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed you softly and slowly teased you. When he broke the kiss, he tailed his lips to your neck and sucked then dipped down. When he stood again, he had you in his arms.

When you felt his lips on your nipple you exclaimed, throwing your head back. If his lips on your neck felt good, now they felt like heaven. As he licked and pleased your flesh, he sat on the reclining chair. With you straddling him, he took your other breast into his hand and kneaded it.

Instantly your back arched; “Mmmm.”

“So receptive of me.”

For emphasis, Chris pinched the nipple that was just between his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath and angled your back further. His hand at your tailbone stopped you from squirming too far. To intensify the sensation, he pinched your other nipple and latched his lips onto your throat.

“Oh god,” you whispered.

“You smell like roses, taste like spun sugar, feel like heaven, but tempt me like a seductress. You’ll drive me mad.”

He licked the swell of your breast and the valley between then shook his head in between your breasts. One second you were relishing the wanton feelings bubbling within you, and the next your fingers were laced in his hair yanking his head back so you could feast on his lips. His moans echoed into the desert behind you enhancing the sultry vibes of the moment you were sharing.

Abandoning his hair, you lifted the hem of his shirt anxious to see the rest of him. Chris sat up, lifted his arms, and allowed you to peel his shirt off. With his chest bare, your eyes dropped and took in every detail. The lite dusting of hair right below his collarbone was inviting. Normally you hated chest hair on men, you found it sloppy and cumbersome especially when it ended up in your mouth. With him, right now it was anything but. Unable to help yourself, you plastered your hands over his chiseled pecs and smoothed your fingers over them. He looked like he worked out every day.

The myriad of tattoos that were scattered across his chest and abdomen made you do a double take. You hadn’t expected it at all. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip you resisted the urge to rake your nails down his chest.

“Your eyes are glazed over, you okay?”

Embarrassment washed over you and you blinked away from his chest to his true blues.

“Perfect,” you said before kissing him again.

Seconds later, Chris stood holding you against him carrying you inside. When you felt the mattress underneath you, you perched your legs on the bed and watched him stand before you. His eyes roamed over your body again and it was like he was looking right through you.

“Did I lose you?”

He scoffed. “Not a chance, sorry I zoned out for a second.”

“Ah, not doing it for ya’ huh.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?”

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you closer to him at the edge of the bed. Keeping his hand on you, he brought your foot to his lips and kissed the bone just there. He then led kisses a little way down your leg while his other hand swirled a path along your leg. Every few kisses, he bit your flesh making chills race through you.

“Have you heard the thoughts your brain forms? God, I don’t think I have ever been this attracted to someone in my life. I’m not just attracted to your beautiful face or your incredibly sexy body.”

His lips were now at your inner thigh, and you watched him sink to his knees before he kissed that bone right beside the most private of your body, just where your thigh and pelvis met.

“Mmm.”

Chris then draped one of your legs over his shoulder while pushing the other down flat against the bed.

“This devastatingly sexy body,” he repeated before he placed a kiss at the top of your mound. “I’m attracted to your mind. This entire night I haven’t been able to help the thoughts I’ve been having like we’ve met before--.”

He hooked his fingers in your thong.

“Spoken before--.”

He pulled the material slowly down your hips then legs, then tossed it behind him.

“Touched before, kissed before.”

With that, he dropped an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss on your clit.

“Uuugh, fuck!”

“This can’t have been the first time I’ve done that.”

He led small kisses across to your pelvis then inner thigh and back again. Every kiss made you squirm, your back arch, and your fists ball the fabric on the bed.

“Are you talking about previous lives now?”

“Maybe.”

You bit down on your bottom lip then angled onto your elbows.

“Careful sounds like you’re awfully close to saying something as cliched as destined mates,” you teased.

He smirked.

“Cliched? Would I be wrong?”

Before you could answer, he delivered a long stroke of his tongue across your sex stopping any thoughts much less words. Your gasp echoed around you as you slammed your back to the bed. With your fists balled beside you, your thighs raised trying to press together to deliver the pressure you needed. However, they didn’t meet. Chris pushed them back to the bed keeping you wide for him.

“What was that Calli? I couldn’t quite hear that.”

You opened your mouth to speak but again his lips found your folds. The slow but precise flicks he delivered make goosebumps freckle your skin as if it were cold trying to preserve its heat when in truth, your body was on fire and steadily reaching the point of combustion.

“Ah, you sighed when he sucked your clit nether lips into his mouth fluctuating the pressure he gave you. When you felt the tip of his tongue dip into your entrance your hands abandoned the sheets and grabbed hold of his hair keeping his head right there.

The feel of him dipping his tongue in and out of you felt so good. He started slow and gradually sped up before he swirled his tongue within you. He slurped and you nearly levitated off of the bed.

“Mmm, you taste incredible, Calli.”

With your nails dug into his scalp, you held tightly to his hair as you felt the beginning stirs of your orgasm. Fuck, already, you thought in pure shock. He’d barely begun. Sure enough, without warning your crescendo came and your grip tightened before your thighs trapped his face between your legs with his mouth just where you needed it.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god, oh god! Yesss!”

Chris moaned as he pried your thighs open. Feeling bold and strong from the orgasm you were still riding, you tugged at his hair urging him up. As soon as he was close enough you kissed him, swirling your tongue with his tasting yourself. The distraction was enough to make you roll onto him to straddle his body.

“Mmm, you’re right I do taste good.”

Chris’ grip on your hips tightened as he groaned and kissed you fiercely, stealing whatever breath you had left within you. Pulling away, you traced kisses down his jaw to his neck. His hand slinked down your back to grip your bare ass. It was such a strong grip that you gasped, then groaned when you became wet all over again. You sank lower and kissed his tattooed chest, taking care to tease his hardened nipples. Every groan, moan and fluctuation in his breathing fueled your desire for him making you want to please him even more.

When you made it to his waist you began undoing his belt, then his pants. Within seconds, you had them undone but before you could make the move, Chris flipped you onto your back and crashed his lips to yours. Not having it, you rolled right back onto him but again he flipped you onto yours. The two of you giggled together realizing that neither of you was going to have your way with this one and someone had to yield.

Chris caressed your cheek and gently kissed your lips leading a path of soft kisses down your body. You watched as he trailed the flower that had been in your hair down your flesh. Everywhere it touched goosebumps appeared and everywhere it went it left behind a trail of yearning. He rotated the bud around your nipples, then slowly brought it between the globes of your breasts. When he went down your stomach, he went around your belly button taking his sweet time knowing that every second only made your desire burn hotter and hotter. He then traced the flower to your core, making you flinch.

“Sensitive or hungry?”

You groaned and sucked your lip into your mouth. He then traced the number eight across your sex. After he finished m

“I could watch your body react to this flower all night,” he uttered eyes never leaving the flower. Once his face dipped down and he found himself right back between your legs, eye level with your sex you reached for him.

“I want you.”

“And you’ll have me but not until I have you screaming my name, writhing and dripping begging for me.”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead, he buried his face between your legs and feasted as none had feasted before. Your moans spilled from you one after the other at varying decibels. You didn’t care how loud you were being. Normally you got a little self-conscious when you expressed your pleasure. You never felt one hundred percent comfortable with any of your exes or partners and it wasn’t due to any fault of theirs. It just was how it happened. With Chris, right now, you wanted him to know just how good he was making you feel, how much you wanted him.

The flower he held never left your body and somehow, he managed to ravage your clit and folds while circling your breasts and nipples with the flower. Just when you thought you were going to come apart and shoot into the night sky above, he bit your inner thigh while pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuuuck!”

With that, you came again, and again, he slurped every single drop like it was the most precious commodity.

Chris then rose and stood in front of you. His pants were open showing off just a smidge of the snug-fitting black boxer briefs he wore. You gave him your full attention as he removed the remainder of his clothes. As the pants dropped, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip still picturing what he had hidden behind those things.

“The way you’re looking at me is only making this harder; harder being the operative word,” Chris said.

Your eyes dropped to the prominent bulge at the juncture of his thighs. Your tongue snaked out to slide across your lips anxious for him. Chris groaned then tore the underwear off revealing all of him to your eager eyes.

“Wow,” you marveled.

He didn’t move, he stood there allowing you time to take him in, and take him in you did. He was buff, but not in an overly done way, in an everyday guy who was active in his life way. The tattoos on his skin only added to his sex appeal.

“Like what you see?”

You smirked and dropped your thighs back to the mattress and just as expected his eyes fell to just where you wanted his full attention.

“I bet I’d like what I feel even more.”

Chris chuckled, shook his head then stalked toward you. With ease, he nestled himself between your open and welcoming legs and bit your nipple before lowering the weight of his body on you.

“I felt you liked to tease, but I see teasing is just the tip of the iceberg, huh?”

You felt the thick, heavy mass pressing against your sex and you could barely hold yourself back from bucking up against him. His groan was rich, and it sent such a thrill through you. You couldn’t believe you had this strong an impact on someone and that he was freely letting you see it. It’s like he wanted you to know that you had him wrapped around your finger.

Chris softly kissed you once, then twice. Each kiss gave you a glimpse at something deeper, something tender, and sweet. He could be a seducer but that wasn’t all that he was. You rolled onto him again and kissed a trail down his sculpted frame taking care to kiss all the parts of him that tempted you. You kissed each nipple, raking your nails through the dusting of hair on his chest, each defined ab, and his obliques where those mouthwatering indentations resided. At the touch of your lips on that part of him, you felt a heavy thwack against your chin. Glancing down, you saw the offender. Up close you took notice of the violent veins protruding along his shaft and the thick and swollen head that glistened with a long drop of his desire.

“Planning on drawing it?”

“I could if it would make you harder.”

Chris scoffed. “Honey, I don’t think I could be any harder right now.”

“Open for debate,” you replied before tipping your tongue out to lightly swirl around the bulbous head.

He groaned long and loud while arching his head back. The veins in his neck bulged showing you just how desperately he was trying to cling to control. You repeated the action a few more times before you sucked his tip into your mouth applying more than a little pressure.

“Christ!”

You moaned. He tasted like mint and something else—vanilla maybe. Whatever it was, you were sure it was a taste unique to him and a taste you found subtle enough to enjoy. Slowly, you dipped your mouth lower and lower taking half his thickness before you sucked up. His hiss and the slight miss of his hands as they aimed to the top of your head no doubt to hold you in place told you everything you needed to know. He was open. You licked from the base to his tip like he was your favorite flavor lollipop. Another groan was your reward.

“Do that again.”

You licked him again. “That?”

You knew that wasn’t what he meant. The muscles in his jaw jumped then his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“No,” he struggled out.

You smirked and dipped your mouth over him again this time taking him a little further until you felt he was close to the back of your mouth. Chris groaned and fastened his hands on your head keeping your head there trapped. You moaned on him and without warning, he brought your head lower so you took him deeper. With him nestled right where he could feel the vibrations most, you moaned again. His grip loosened as he pulled you off of him.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. I swear ta gawd, you’re gonna make me cum right now.”

You could pick up an accent and it was the hottest thing you’d heard. He wasn’t the only one that was close to coming.

“Your mouth feels incredible.”

Feeling bold, you took him into the mouth he liked so much and showed him incredible was the beginning. By the time you were finished with him, you’d have him listing off every synonym of the word. As you pleased his flesh, every hiss, gasp, moan and groan became more and more desperate, more and more emphasized and the more he lost control, the more powerful you felt. That didn’t mean that giving him pleasure meant you felt none. You were so turned on it took everything in you to not drop your hand between your legs to inch yourself to the release he was creeping up on.

Quicker than lightning, he’d flipped you onto your back and pressed your thighs apart making enough room for his bulky body and stealing your breath in the process. The way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he the predator only made you want him more.

“Fuck,” you whispered out.

“If you insist.”

His lips pressed to yours and his tongue swirled with yours. The man was a kissing connoisseur and magician, and this was the way he cast his spells—this was the way he bewitched. When you felt the tip of his intrusion brush against your inner thigh you shook and immediately felt embarrassed. Chris’ smile was soft.

“The feeling is mutual, believe me.”

He kissed you once, twice then a third, and on that third kiss, he joined your bodies in one slow, torturous, and impossibly delicious feeling thrust. Every inch he filled you with made your back arch and every arch pressed your breasts onto his hard chest. Chris tore his lips from yours first then buried his face into your neck and whimpered.

“Oh—you feel--.”

It was a sentence he never finished—not with words. Instead, he shuddered into your ear and let his body mirror it with a shiver. With him buried to the hilt, you felt impossibly full, but you still wanted more. Wrapping one leg behind him to rest at the crest of his ass, you lifted your hips to meet his next thrust. The movement was unexpected and his snapped to yours. With your eyes locked, you clenched around him and circled your hips.

“Fuck!”

Chris pressed one hand to the bed and brought the other to your throat, but no part of his grip hurt. It was the motivation he needed to speed his movements. With every connection, your breasts jerked, and every retreat your leg around him tightened as your muscles.

“Uuugh, you’re going to kill me gorgeous,” Chris croaked out with every thrust.

“Then return the favor. I think death by fuck would be a good way to go.”

His eyebrow crooked and you saw the moment something shifted within him. His jaw twitched and then with his next bruising thrust he clasped both your wrists in one of his hands and pressed them above your head. From then, his thrusts became rougher, harder and so damn wild. The pattern her set was one of chaos and your body responded to it. He kept you guessing, needing and whimpering until you were sure that the other tents nearby could hear just what was going on and you didn’t care. You hoped they were listening.

No matter how you tried to free your hands to touch him, it was no use. He held you right where you were taking everything he wanted while giving you just as much. Soon, the pit of your stomach tightened, and your legs trembled, you were close and the grin on his face said he knew it.

“I think death by multiple orgasms sounds like a better way to go.”

Chris thrusted forward hard then circled his hips sending you over the edge. You screeched and allowed your body to shake as it wished. You had no control over it, he did. You panted and bucked against him needing more and having too much all at once. When his thrusts continued, he’d released your hands and grabbed your thighs keeping them apart and you slightly elevated in both his strong arms. This new angle told you that you’d be crashing over the edge in seconds.

Sure enough, you came again and again with him showing no mercy nor giving you any reprieve. Instead, he changed the pattern again, slowing things down. The sudden change sent your body into hyperactivity and your hips bucked again. Chris groaned and moved his hands to your hips. He held on to you like he was riding a bucking bronco trying to control you. With a groan that sounded so close to a growl, he pulled out of you then flipped you onto your stomach and sheathed himself once again.

“Aaaah! Fuck, yes!”

The action was so quick your head spun but not for long. When you felt his hand at the back of your neck and the other coming down on your ass you lost your shit.

“Oh god—Chris.”

“Mmm. Still sound like a good way to go?”

He dropped his lips to your back and kissed a path along your spine until he reached your shoulder. Once there, he sank his teeth into your flesh. You dropped your head back and for the first time, you noticed that this particular part of the tent was see-through, and it gave you the perfect view of the stars. As another orgasm claimed you, you felt yourself transcending to touch those stars. Chris slowed his movements and brought his kisses to your jaw, then your lips. This kiss was different, it was languid, teasing, but filled with longing. It was a different longing than before; it was a longing for more time.

“You’re perfect, Cali,” Chris mumbled on your lips. “So fucking perfect.”

Your belly fluttered. Mustering all your energy, you pulled from him, then pushed him onto his back. He stretched his arms behind his head with a wide smile as if he couldn’t wait for the show. You stood on the bed giving him a full view of your body then stood over him legs wide enough that he could see just what was in store for him. As he licked his bottom lip you saw a spark of worry in his eyes.

“Scared?”

Smirking he stretched his body and groaned. “Should I be?”

“I don’t know. I could do whatever I want to you.”

“I’m counting on it.”

His cockiness was too damn attractive, and you couldn’t believe you liked it. Scoffing, you lowered yourself over him. His eyes dropped between your legs and watched with bated breath. He looked like he was mumbling an incantation in his head drawing your body to his. Just before you sank onto him, you stopped hovering just out of reach. Chris groaned then cracked his neck.

“Are you afraid?”

“Not at all.”

“Then sink that gorgeous, deliciously tight pussy on this cock.”

“No please?”

He smirked.

“Oh, so you want me to beg.”

“Are you above it?”

Chris brought one hand to his mouth, licked his thumb then brought it to your clit. The first stroke was feather-lite.

“Mmm.”

“Are you?” He dipped his thumb lower swiping your slit coating his finger before bringing it back to swirl around your bud. You moaned again but made a silent vow to not give in.

“Try as you will, I guarantee you will not hear me beg for anything.”

“No?”

For emphasis he gently pinched your clit sending a sharp electric charge through you and right back to your sex. Unconsciously, you dipped lower, your folds brushing the tip of his cock. You both groaned at the same time, both bucked your hips together, but you were the one to rise back up.

“Stubborn huh.”

“More than you know. However, I would have mercy on you if you said the magic words.”

“What words may they be?”

His finger was now going back and forth and round and round in a synchronized show of skill. It was becoming harder and harder to resist. You wanted him to fill you as much as he wanted to be nestled in your heat.

“Please—take this—dick.”

Again, your body dipped lower and brushed his tip. This time you didn’t lift up, instead, you rocked your body back and forth like a wave coating his bulging appendage. With each swipe of your sex, Chris softly grunted and subtly lifted his hips. You didn’t know if it was an involuntary movement or if this was a ploy.

“God, you’re so wet for me, Cali.”

“Mm-hm. Dripping.”

His finger sped and you knew you were close. You just hoped he gave in before your body betrayed you. Circling your hips, you took a few centimeters of him giving him the impression you were giving in but when his hand came to your waist you lifted up denying him the satisfaction. The groan he let out was one of frustration. You saw the veins in his neck protruding and wondered how much longer he could hold out.

“Still so tight,” he whispered.

“Do you want to stretch me out?”

He scoffed, smirked, and angled his head back.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Cali.”

The authority in his voice made you straighten your spine. He sounded like he often gave orders, and you wanted him to command you.

“This dangerous game has consequences. Can you afford them?”

“Like?”

The pressure he applied to your pearl increased and you knew your face betrayed how much you liked it.

“Loss of voice, sore muscles, raw throat, inability to sit properly for a week or two, among others.”

“What about the consequences for you? Can you afford them?”

“Such as?”

“Inability to think of anything else but this tight, dripping pussy, hallucinations of seeing me everywhere you go but when it isn’t me wishing it were, daydreams that take you back to this night for months on months, frenzied wet dreams every single night, and the fate of inadequate self-pleasuring where it never is good enough because it is not my hand, my mouth, my tight delicious pussy. Your punishment for tonight will be a lifelong one. Can you afford the price of your pleasure?”

He looked at the end of his rope like he was about to release the beast any moment. His jaw ticked, throat bobbed, and breath shook.

“Cali—please—take this dick so I can fill you and stretch you so perfectly that weeks from now you will not be able to have another because you will only see my eyes.”

As the victor you dropped onto his cock, taking him fully into your body and loving every second of it. Chris grunted then gripped your hip. He didn’t move you though, he wanted you to take control. You instantly set the pace bucking against him with quick swipes. Chris sucked in a breath and watched you move, in complete awe. Rather than sticking to one pattern, you swirled around him before you began bouncing on his hardness.

“Fuck!”

He matched every move you made with an upward flick of his hips. Every time he did it, it threw you off until you’d stopped moving completely and allowed him to jackhammer up into your core.

“Fuck! Chris, yes, right there. Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me—cum with me.”

His thrusts became more and more aggressive and the sharp twinge of pain at your hip from his fingertips said you’d have a bruise to remember this night. It was a bruise you wouldn’t mind. Chris sprang up, held your hips more firmly, and rocked you against him as he fucked you. You could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he’d lost control and was chasing the same thing you were—a release.

“Yes, Yes, God Cali.”

Your eyes locked and you felt the same longing he did. If only tonight wasn’t all you had.  Before you knew it, you’d crescendoed over the edge pulling him with you. Both of you rode the wave of pleasure that kept producing sparks of fire and thrill straight through you making neither of you want to break apart. You kissed him allowing everything you were feeling to spill into him.

If tonight was all you had, then you would take it and press it to memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sacredsorceress]

Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys. 

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand. 

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat,  pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Shark Ambassador

Summary: Jeff’s fame takes him to new heights: educating people on his shark brethren

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3659

Warnings: I don’t think there are any but lmk if I should add something :)

A/N: I’M SORRY EVERYONE I DIPPED FOR LIKE, A MONTH. I really said I would be back and get the next parts out soon and then did that. But my university decided to put all my super long assignment deadlines right in succession of each other so I literally did nothing else :’) Also the last part is not edited, I just wrote it and now I want to go to sleep. But enjoy :)

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe

[Jeff gets Instagram - Part 3]  [ Part 1 -> Part-time Avenger] [Part 2 -> Full-time Land Shark]

—————————————————

—————————————————

“This is going to be epic Jeff, trust me”. You smiled, looking up over the worktable to where the land shark sat patiently on the floor.

He approved with a ‘mrrr’ and approached when you picked up the mechanism, letting you strap it onto his back. He tried to watch as best he could while you secured it, tilting his head at funny angles, to the point where you eventually had to stop him with a laugh, telling him to sit still.

Once he stopped squirming it actually only took a few seconds to buckle it up. Which were a few too many seconds for Jeff to have to sit still; he was bouncing with energy, sprinting outside to the pool as soon as he was released. 

A small tilt of his head backwards checked that you were ready to record before he dove into the pool, circling it happily.

“What is that!?” you fake exclaimed. That was Jeff’s cue to leap out of the water, firing a beam directly into the air.

“A shark! With frickin’ laser beams!”

These were the things you and Jeff got up to when Natasha left you home alone. She’d left for a month-long mission in Italy, doing simple reconnaissance work, whilst you were tasked with staying in New York to work at the compound. Since it wasn’t too high stakes, Natasha was allowed to call whenever she had the time. And she did, resulting in almost nightly long-distance movie nights to make it feel like you weren’t so far apart. They helped to reassure Jeff too, as on the nights where Natasha couldn’t call, Jeff would spend the night whining, and usually end up curled up tightly on her side of the bed.

One such movie night had led to you all watching Austin Powers since, despite your girlfriend’s spy status and love of James Bond, she had never seen it. She also didn’t see the look you and Jeff shared at the mere mention of a shark, completely oblivious to how much was hidden when she wasn’t physically present.

By the next day you were already in the workshop, immediately designing and building a laser beam contraption to fit onto Jeff. You let him help out, so it was more of a bonding activity than anything.

You recorded Jeff splashing around for another few minutes, then he propelled himself back towards you and clambered out. He sent a charming grin to the camera, his tongue hanging lopsidedly out of his mouth as he beamed. Then, once you finished filming, he came and climbed onto your lap to watch it back.

He looked up at you and nodded his approval, before sprinting off and returning with his phone a minute later. The phone had been adjusted slightly by you and Tony, but it still had difficulty registering his land shark hands, especially when he had just been in the water. Jeff never appreciated your comments on his struggles to unlock his phone, never accepting help; he took after Nat in that regard. So for this, you stayed silent, smiling only when you caught sight of yourself as Jeff’s lock screen. Natasha had taken the picture a few days after Jeff had been rescued; you were smiling up at her, while Jeff slept on top of you for the first time.

“Hey Jeff, say cheese” you decided suddenly. He jolted his head up, baring his teeth back into a smile as he ‘mrrr’d.

“Thanks buddy.” Your lock screen had been Natasha for almost as long as you’d been dating, but if Jeff had you, then it was only fair that you should have him. Though you did wonder if Natasha also had you as her lock screen, she certainly had when you first got together, but that had been years ago, you hadn’t checked whether she’d changed it since.

Either way, the thought quickly slipped from your mind when Jeff pushed his phone into your lap, Instagram now opened. “You want to post the video?”

If Natasha found out that you had given Jeff lasers while she was away, the both of you would certainly be in trouble. But Jeff’s eyes were pleading, and with the eagerness of his nod, you couldn’t deny him. Plus Natasha wasn’t technically supposed to be on any social media until she got back, her own account framed to make it look like she was still at home. So there was no chance she would scroll through a month’s worth of posts to find it, not when all the Avengers posted several times a day. With a hum, you sent the video over to Jeff. You uploaded it for him, but handed it back to let him caption it himself; ‘mrrr!’… as usual.

You called Natasha daily for the rest of her mission and she never brought it up. You weren’t necessarily in the clear, she was a spy after all, but the attention the video garnered lessened every day, and it was practically gone from Instagram by the time she returned.

She had about enough time to clean up and get changed after her month away before Jeff approached you both, a DVD case in his mouth. You met Natasha’s eyes from across the room and both broke into a smile, you’d missed her presence and her live reactions to Jeff’s antics. Since neither of you gave Jeff direct attention, he took matters into his own hands, huffing and choosing to present his film choice to Natasha. He trotted over and let her crouch down and take it from him.

Her eyes flit back up to you once she saw the film choice, holding up the cover so you could see.

“Jaws? I’m not sure that’s appropriate, Jeff” she said, but he insisted.

“It’s a bit violent” 

Natasha’s warnings meant nothing to Jeff, he was too enthralled that a film would have a shark on the cover. He pleaded with her, until eventually you both relented. Nobody could resist his demands for long.

—————————————————

Jeff wished he’d listened to Natasha by the end of it, to say the least.

There were tears, there were screams, and you decided that you really should have put more effort into stopping Jeff watching the movie. As soon as the credits began, he walked out in silence, a worrying change from the near constant whimpers of the past 2 hours. He left you and Natasha unsure of which steps to take, whether he wanted to be alone of whether he would need comfort.

Three rounds of rock, paper, scissors later and it was you knocking on your own bedroom door, Jeff having shut it on his way in. He replied, giving you permission to come in, though the sight once you did was certainly not what you had been expecting. Rather than a repeat of the Yelena incident, there was no whimpering or crying. Instead, he’d made himself comfortable on the bed, furiously typing into his phone. He barely even looked up at your entry.

“What, uh, what’re you doing Jeff? How are you doing?”

“Mrrr”

“Yeah, I can see you’re writing, but what?”

He tilted his screen towards you, showing you what he’d written so far. It was at this point that you remembered Jeff had never actually been taught to read or write, and the majority of the words were a mess of letters in the wrong places. Every e also seemed to have been replaced by a 3 for some reason. You really should teach him the alphabet someday.

“Mrrr?” he asked, looking for your approval

“It looks really good Jeff!” you bluffed, “how about you recite it to me though and I’ll type it up, we’ll get it done faster that way.”

Again, he wasn’t one to willingly accept help, but this seemed to be something he was passionate about, so anything to make it better he would accept. He nodded and waited for you to get your laptop ready before working with you to create a speech against the portrayal of sharks in the media. You threw in suggestions here and there, helping him find the best words, but the final draft was still very much Jeff’s stance. He tried to read the edit, but eventually had to concede that he couldn’t read and asked you to narrate it for him.

At his approval, you slid the phone back to him, giving him the satisfaction of hitting the post button.

But for once he asked for your help in typing a caption, reciting a further comment on his distaste of how the shark was treated in Jaws, and how unlikely it was for a shark to act like the one in the film.

He looked up at you after the upload, smiling. “You happy with it? Because I am, I’m proud of you Jeff.”

“Mrrr”

“Yeah we won’t watch it again”. You still felt bad for letting him watch Jaws, but if it was the catalyst for his work educating the public on sharks, you had to respect the trajectory. “Now come on bud, Nat’s probably worried about us. We can all go out and get you gummy sharks for your good work.

—————————————————

That moment set Jeff on a far greater path than you’d realised. Of course his post gained traction, as all of them do, which brought a lot of attention towards the unfair representation of sharks.

You were curled up on the sofa with Nat a day after it was posted, your head resting on her shoulder, half-heartedly watching the David Attenborough documentary the assassin had put on. She’d asked to watch something that could just be in the background to let you spend some time just talking to each other again. You were both on your phones, so that plan hadn’t gone well, but you were still able to relax and appreciate having her familiar presence back in the house.

Taking your eyes off of the screen, you tilted your head to look up at her, catching sight of her phone as you went. “Aww, you do have me as your lock screen!”. The words came out before you even thought about it.

“Yeah, of course I-, wait, do you not have me?”

“Uhhh”

“Y/N, what’s your lock screen?”

Jeff had been napping on his shark bed in the corner, but he looked up at Natasha’s dangerously low tone. His eyes met yours next, displaying smugness as soon as he realised what was happening. When he turned his head you followed the path of his gaze, landing directly on your phone, the one you had left on the other side of the room and had been too comfortable to retrieve.

He locked eyes with you again, understanding your silent pleas for him not to do what you knew he was ready to do. Not that he listened to you. Withing a millisecond he was out of bed, snatching your phone before you could even spring up and parading it around you. He strolled leisurely to Natasha, sprinting and jumping only to avoid your blockade attempts.

With a proud hum, he dropped the phone onto Natasha’s lap, looking back at you now stood on the other side of the sofa due to his dodging. Natasha looked up at you too, a raised eyebrow asking for your permission to look; you nodded.

“You replaced me with Jeff?”

The land shark looked between you smugly, clearly proud that he was there instead of Nat. You would happily switch it back at this point.

“What is he wearing? Are those Tony’s lasers?”

“Um-”

Jeff nodded and Nat turned on you. “It was Jeff’s idea!”

“MRRR!” he huffed indignantly, pointing back at you.

“What? no, you chose to make the video”

“Mrrr.”

“There’s a video?”

“On Jeff’s Instagram” you told Natasha quickly, before going back to arguing with the shark.

“Jeff, what is this?” she questioned after a second. You cringed in anticipation for the reaction, but a ‘mrrr’ from Jeff made you turn your head.

Natasha held up a new post from Jeff, one you hadn’t seen yet, that he had posted in collaboration with the Discovery Instagram account. “Uh, that reply didn’t even mean anything,” you translated for your girlfriend, “he literally just said ‘mrrr’.”

He began to explain after a bit more prompting, fetching his phone and handing it to you, displaying an open conversation with the Discovery Instagram account.

“Mrrr”

“He says he meant to tell us but he forgot”

You and Natasha exchanged a look again, before focusing on what Jeff was showing you.

‘Hi Jeff,’ the message read, ‘we love your account and all the attention you bring to sharks. In advance of shark week, would you be interested in recording a special episode and promoting it on Instagram? It would be really beneficial in raising awareness that sharks are not the danger that the media portrays them as.’

Natasha finished reading it faster than you, and her eyes shone with pride when she looked up. “You got yourself a TV contract Jeff?”

“Mrrr!”

“And you’ve already said you’re doing it?”

“Mrrr”. He nodded again

—————————————————

And that was how you ended up where you were now. In a conference room with the Discovery channel marketing team, acting as a seat and translator for the little suit-wearing land shark on your lap (he’d wanted to make a good first impression). Sure you were a famous Avenger in your own right, but Jeff was the main star in this building.

You helped them and Jeff come to a decision on what Jeff would be doing and the logistics of the whole situation. A team of writers had already gathered facts and figures to support the case for sharks, asking Jeff to read it out and then they would subtitle over it.

“Mrrr.” He insisted on this case that you would also be there to the side, translating his speech in real time to ensure he could edit the script slightly and still have his words translated exactly. You beamed as you narrated it back to the team, happy to know he trusted you to make his case. They agreed happily.

In addition to just presenting, Jeff was also asked to star in the series, having a shark who understood English made it easy for them to gather authentic clips of sharks swimming in their natural habitat.

Overall, the talks went smoothly, the team practically agreeing to Jeff’s (admittedly few) requests instantly, and you were returning home to Natasha in no time. You still hadn’t had time to talk about your laser shark activities, and since she stayed up and followed you after Jeff had gone to bed, you knew she wanted to discuss it. You braced yourself for a lecture, probably some things about ‘endangering your son’, or ‘setting a bad example’, but instead you got neither.

“I’m not mad about the laser shark” she clarified instantly, going through her nightly routine as you went through yours.

“You’re not?”

“No. I watched the video and it was funny, and I can’t say I didn’t have the same thought when we watched the movie”

“You DID?!”

She snickered slightly at your reaction, throwing the pyjamas you were looking for across the room before continuing. “My main concern is that you decided to replace me, your girlfriend, with a shark”

“He’s a land shark” you corrected

Natasha took a deep breath, imitating annoyance, but the corners of her mouth tipped up; her way of letting you know she didn’t mean it. You were ready for bed at this point, and she slipped in right beside you.

“I’m just saying, you replaced me with a land shark, when you could have used a photo of both of us”

Your mouth opened, ready to state your own defence, of which you had none. “Come with us to set tomorrow, I’m sure Jeff would love your support and then I can get a good photo of the two of you. I’ll set it as my lock screen, promise.”

The two of you were facing each other in bed, and she seemed to contemplate it for a while, before breaking into a soft laugh. “Jeff already asked me earlier” she clarified, “I’ll be there”.

—————————————————

The set up was on the beach, beginning with Jeff’s mini lectures, then moving onto getting footage of Jeff swimming in the sea.

While you went over the final technicalities with the director, Jeff got to work drawing on the blackboard that had been set up, aided by Natasha lifting him where he needed to be to draw. By the looks of things, you would have to get one for the house, the land shark fascinated by the chalk and taking great amusement from his drawings. Natasha was smiling too, watching what he did. You took a photo of them in that moment, the first of many that day.

When filming began, Jeff looked into the camera with confidence, his drawings from earlier still on the board. He grabbed a pointer and aimed it at the shark; he’d drawn a Great White, and put a smiley face on it to really make his point. He happily explained the role of sharks to the ecosystem; how necessary they were for the marine food chain to be maintained, and how few people sharks killed compared to the number of sharks that were killed. Meanwhile you stood to the side, translating his ‘mrrr’s for the general audience.

Then he moved on to the dolphins. They did not receive such a glowing review; made especially obvious by the fact he had drawn little devil horns and an angry face on his diagram. You kept translating, reciting the facts he was spewing about how dolphins attacked sharks, often using their snouts to ram sharks’ gills in attempts to injure or kill Jeff’s brethren.

Finally, he spun the board around, revealing a stick figure drawing of a person. Jeff made the point that, as much as he loved living among people, humans were the greatest predators to sharks and dolphins alike, and even he got negative reactions every time he went swimming in public. The filming on the beach was solely to illustrate that point, and it was the next step in the documentary. Jeff dove into the waves, splashing about in the shallows with Natasha. She had volunteered to swim with the land shark, just to make sure nobody would try to attack him, just in case. You took another photo then, Natasha in a swimsuit, smiling widely at Jeff, whilst the land shark leapt up playfully, aiming to douse her in as much salty water as he could manage. There was no competition, that was the one for your lock screen.

At last, they focused, the camera crew getting into place both on the beach and in the water, and Jeff swam deeper, until just his fin was visible. He made his way to the more crowded area of the beach, and screams began as soon as he was spotted, anyone in the sea hurriedly evacuated, taking shelter on the beach. That was until Jeff re-emerged from the water and everyone saw who it was. The mood changed in an instant, rather than running from him, crowds formed to run towards him, taking photos and petting the willing celebrity. It was exactly the footage needed for the documentary, so once the crowds had died down and each civilian caught on camera had agreed to either be shown on the film or have their face blurred, Jeff was done, and you and Nat could take your leave.

Rather than go home immediately, Natasha had planned a surprise for Jeff. Jeff was a unique animal, but with his passion for defending sharks, you wondered whether he was missing out on opportunities to socialise with his fellow sharks by living with you, so the three of you took a boat out, going just off the coast, to where a Smooth Dogfish shark had recently been spotted. As luck would have it, you managed to spot it, pointing it out to Jeff.

He jumped into the ocean immediately, you and Nat just about able to see his form retreating towards the animal. The two were motionless for a second, then both sprang to life, spinning and weaving and chasing each other around the depths below the boat, just like dogs in a park.

It kept Jeff entertained for an hour, you and Natasha using the time to catch up, just lying together in the boat until it was time to go home.

Jeff deflated when you called him back up, having to say goodbye to his newfound friend. So you promised he could come back the next week, not only to make him feel better, but it was nice to see him so happy and able to play with a similar species. He babbled excitedly about the shark to you and to Instagram all the way back home, only stopping when he spotted a package by your front door.

He rushed ahead as soon as the car door opened, nudging and sniffing the package, then gently opening his jaw and grabbing the whole box. You chuckled, helping him by unlocking the door, and he proudly carried the delivery inside, depositing it on the coffee table.

“Who’s it for, Jeff?” Natasha asked, and the land shark studied the label very carefully, concluding with a ‘mrrr’

“He can’t read” you translated, going to inspect it yourself, and seeing Jeff’s name on the label. “But it’s yours, buddy, go ahead and open it”

He used his teeth like a knife, slicing through the tape so that the box could flap open, then he buried his head inside, pulling out a small bronze coloured triangular prism.

Jeff ‘mrrr’d proudly at you and Natasha, drawing your attention to what he held, a small name plaque : ‘Jeff – Shark Ambassador’

—————————————————

[tswaney17]

My Son

As I write this, it saddens me to know that this is my last @elriel-month fic. This month went by so quickly, and there was such amazing content produced from it. I want to recognize all of the fantastic people who participated in Elriel Month, both in producing content and those who consistently like, comment, reblog, share, etc. the work that is produced. It's been such a fun month, and a huge thank you to all of those who put it on. A lot of time, effort, and work goes on behind the scenes to keep these appreciation months running. Y'all are amazing. 🌸🦇

Now on to the fic. This is part 2 of Little One. I've had this fic written for months and I'm super excited to share it with you. Please let me know your thoughts! 💙💜💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, some descriptions of canon-typical violence, very minor adult descriptions

Word Count: 4,127

Elain sat at their kitchen table, a gurgling Rosalie tucked in the crook of her arm, Kaden sat across from her munching on some freshly baked pastries, cured meats, and sipping on fruit juice. A cup of tea rested against her palm as she smiled down at her son who happily hummed while eating his breakfast, bare feet kicking under his chair. It was just the three of them this morning, Azriel having been called away by their High Lord for an urgent meeting at nearly the crack of dawn.

He apologized profusely for not only waking her so early but also for having to leave her, to which he made up for with his head between her legs as the sun broke the horizon, casting an orange glow into their bedroom.

“How do you like your pastries, Kaden?” she asked, readjusting her swaddled daughter who had started to fuss in her arms. Though thoroughly sated, once the shadowsinger left their bed this morning, Elain knew she wasn’t going back to sleep and decided to get up and try out a new pastry recipe for breakfast.

The little Illyrian flashed her a big, toothy grin. “I wuv them, momma!” he shouted excitedly, crumbs smeared on his pink lips.

Elain couldn’t help the way her heart swelled at being called momma by him. It had taken quite a while for Kaden to grow comfortable in his new home. He had been living with them for right around five months now and had only begun calling her “momma” a few weeks ago. He had yet to bless Azriel with a fatherly name, much to his dismay, but they both knew that with Kaden’s early childhood ordeal, his attachment to Illyrian males would be a slow one. It would come, he just needed to be patient she assured him.

They also took introducing Kaden to his new family slowly, only allowing them over one at a time so as to not overwhelm him. Meeting Elain’s sisters and Mor went easily enough, but that wasn’t where they were concerned. Though Rhys was the High Lord and half Illyrian, Kaden was clearly more intimidated by Cassian’s larger stature and permanent presence of wings. The general, hoping to bond with the little one, proceeded to sit on the floor with their son for an hour and played with the stuffed bear he brought with him. It wasn’t until Nesta showed up looking for her husband that Cassian departed, happily receiving a shy hug on his one leg before he left.

“I’m glad, sweetie. Maybe next time I make them, you can help momma? Would you like to do that?”

Little hands hit the table in excitement. “Yes! Yes, pwease momma, can we?”

She smiled down at him with so much love. “Of course, baby.” Elain propped Rosalie on her shoulder, running a soothing hand down her back as the terrace door opened and her husband entered. “Look, Kaden. Daddy’s home. Why don’t you go get dressed now so we can head out soon?”

Despite not calling Azriel “daddy” yet, both he and Elain had decided to refer to each other by paternal names in hopes that it would encourage him to make the connection as to who he was to them, and who they were to him.

He was their son.

And they were his parents.

No matter the blood or lineage, nothing would change that.

“Okay!” He wiggled from his chair and made a mad dash from the table to his bedroom as the shadowsinger approached, a soft smile on his face watching Kaden run from the kitchen.

Azriel dropped a kiss to her lips, and then one to the top of Rosalie’s head, his fingers brushing her rogue wisps of curls. “Good morning, my little love,” he whispered.

She couldn’t help but smile at their daughter’s coo of greeting. “What did Rhys need you for so early this morning?” Elain asked as they began clearing the table of the breakfast spread.

Hazel eyes met her gaze and something twisted in her stomach at the worry she saw there. “There’s been a scuffle at one of the Illyrian camps,” he stated, setting dishes in the sink.

Elain’s brows furrowed. “How bad?”

“Rhys, Cassian, and I are about to head there to handle the situation.”

The inflection of his voice told her that there was information left unsaid. “There’s something else.”

Azriel huffed, leaning back against the counter. His strong arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s the camp that Kaden’s biological father is at.”

The thought of that awful male made Elain want to find her son, cradle him in her lap, and never let go. “Do you think we should be concerned?”

He ran a scarred hand through his inky locks. “He’s a camp Lord and we are within the twenty-four-hour window of the Blood Rite, which means he has magic and can winnow. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” Those golden irises blazed in fury.

“Lorenzo didn’t want anything to do with him. Why would he be making a fuss now?” It didn’t make sense. That male lost any right to claim Kaden as his son when he dropped him off at that orphanage and didn’t come back. Elain had later learned that her son had been there going on a year now and the Lord hadn’t made a peep about his child. It was both heartbreak and rage that had warred within her at that knowledge.

The shadowsinger shrugged. “Maybe word got back to him that he was adopted?”

“He left him at an orphanage!” she hissed, patting Rosalie’s back when she started to squirm.

Azriel took a step closer to her, his hand touching the back of his daughter’s head. “I think it could be about who adopted him too,” he said a bit quietly.

Elain’s heart twisted. She knew what he was hinting at. That the camp Lord wouldn’t deem Az worthy enough to raise even a child he gave up. “If he believes you unworthy to love that boy then I’ll kill him myself.”

The corner of his lips turned up briefly. “I will never stop being grateful for your devotion to me, my love.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I know you don’t like to be sidelined and that you can protect yourself, but I think you and the kids should stay away from Illyria today. I just—” a frustrated hand ran through his hair. “I can help but worry that the scuffle at the camp is to pull me away from you three at the orphanage.”

“Az,” she breathed, reaching out to grip his forearm, thumb swiping soothing strokes over his tanned, tattooed skin. “You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question.

He ducked his head. “Of course, I’m scared. He’s my son. Our son. I will do anything to protect him, Rosalie, and you.”

Elain nodded in agreement. “We don’t take chances here, not when it comes to our children. If you think there’s a risk with the three of us going to the camps, no matter how small, we won’t go. I won’t put our babies in danger.”

Her husband let out a sigh of relief, tugging her and Rosalie into his arms. He kissed her softly, conveying all his love and emotion for her and their little family from his lips. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “Feyre said she has a morning class with some younger children at the studio today and that you’re more than welcome to bring Kaden by to paint.”

“I think he would like that. Maybe we’ll take a stroll through the Rainbow and the park by the Sidra, too.”

It was rare to see the Night Court spymaster drop all his masks and show his true self. A male so full of love, joy, and devotion. But since the birth of Rosalie, and the adoption of Kaden, Elain had seen it more and more on Azriel’s face. It was her favorite look on him, one he tended to wear when he fed and rocked his little girl to sleep, or when he’d peek in on his son as he slept, checking to make sure he was okay. It was the same look he wore now.  

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Padded feet tore down the hallway and slid into the kitchen. Both parents turned to look at a disheveled Kaden.

“Azweel! Can you but-tin my wing slots, pweeze?”

A low chuckle rumbled from Azriel’s chest as he stepped out of her embrace. “Sure buddy, come here.”

Kaden’s undeveloped magic prevented him from being able to button the flaps of his shirt around his wings alone. He’d be able to eventually, but for now, either she or Az would have to help him, not that they minded.

“Wings up,” Azriel said, reaching underneath the membranes to snap the flaps together.

“Where are your shoes?” Elain asked, once his shirt was secured.

Little, tanned toes fluttered on the stone floor. “By the door, momma.”

Her husband helped Kaden tug on his shoes as Elain secured a now sleeping Rosalie to her chest, allowing both her arms to be free. It was a wrap that Feyre swore by when she had Nyx, and Elain was inclined to agree. Having both arms available while she ran errands was indeed a lifesaver.

After explaining the change of plans to Kaden, he reached up and took Azriel’s ring and pinky finger in his small hand. “Are you coming with us?”

Her husband knelt, “Sorry, buddy. Uncle Rhys needs daddy’s help right now.”

Kaden’s lower lip jutted out in a way that Elain knew Azriel struggled to say no to. Even now, she could see the war of his vow to his High Lord and the need to protect his son dance across his face with his desire to stay with them.

He cleared his throat. “Tell you what; as soon as I’m finished with your uncle, I’ll meet up with you guys and we’ll spend the rest of the day together. How does that sound?”

The little Illyrian brightened, and he shouted in glee.

Az tugged him to his chest, kissing him on the top of his black hair. “I’ll see you later, son. I love you.”

“I wuv you too, Azweel.”

He stood, turning back to her.

“Be safe,” Elain said lowly enough to not let Kaden overhear them.

Az nodded. “I will. I’ll come home as soon as I can.” He slid a hand to her jaw to kiss her, careful of their daughter between them, then pecked the top of Rosalie’s head. “I love you,” he whispered to them both, before vanishing into the shadows.

Elain’s stomach turned restlessly. Something about the whole situation still didn’t feel right, but she would stay strong for both her husband and her son. Swallowing her nerves, she took Kaden’s hand to make their way into the bustling streets of Velaris.

~~~

The three of them strolled through the park along the glittering waters of the Sidra River having finished their painting session earlier and a delicious lunch at a small café moments ago. Kaden’s painting was sitting at Feyre’s studio, which Elain was to go pick up in a few days once it was dry. It was mostly strokes of colors and handprints, but she still thought it was the most beautiful artwork, biased or not.

Warm rays of the sun beat down on them, bringing about a flush of color on her skin and the golden hues on both of her children’s darker complexions.

Kaden had taken off, chasing after a colorful butterfly.

Elain followed the sounds of his giggles. “Stay close, Kaden!” she called when he got a bit too far for her comfort.

Ever the good listener, he rounded back towards her, stopping to look at a small coping of rose bushes. “Look, momma! Woses!” he shouted, the r sound still coming out like a w. It was something they were working on with him.

“Yes, they are, good job!” she said back, stopping beneath a shaded tree for some much-needed cooling. Kaden had taken to her garden and she took the time to teach him the names of the various plants and flowers she was growing.

Elain placed a hand on the top of Rosalie’s head, feeling the warmth of it. It was an unusually balmy spring day, one that predicted the early onset of summer.

A blip on the horizon caught her eye. She watched it as it came closer, membranous wings flapping to send it hurtling through the sky towards her.

Elain’s head cocked as she studied the movement, so unlike her husband’s elegance, Cassian’s strong presence, or even Rhys’s regal grace. Brown eyes widened as she realized who, exactly, was flying towards her.

Towards her son.

She was moving then. “Kaden!” she screamed, “Kaden, come here, right now!”

At his mother’s distressed voice, he turned, running towards her.

With a hand holding onto the back of Rosalie, Elain cradled Kaden’s head and shoved him behind her just as the Illyrian male slammed into the ground in front of them. She felt the impact through her feet.

The park was fairly empty, but the few fae present took off at the sight of the unknown Illyrian, leaving her utterly alone with him.

Kaden’s fists gripped the skirts of her lilac dress, and though every instinct in her told her never to back down from a threat, she would not risk it with both of her children in the line of fire. Elain stepped back, moving her son with her.

The male, a version of what her son may one day have features of, savagely grinned down at her. A sharp jaw, high cheekbones with a long nose. His hair was worn similar to how Cassian kept his, but a shade or two lighter. He wasn’t as large as her husband, she realized. Az had him beat by several inches and his shoulders weren’t nearly as broad. But even with that knowledge, everything about the male in front of her screamed warrior.

Dangerous.

Threat.

Her magic rumbled in her chest in response. The siphon on her ring flared once, throwing up a thin barrier between them and him—Azriel’s magic sealed away for when she needed it. The shadow that adorned her finger as a wedding band vanished.

“So,” he drawled, sounding utterly bored. “I finally get to meet the pretty, little pet that has captured the heart of the bastard-born shadowsinger.”

Elain snarled at the taunt. “Watch your tongue, Lorenzo,” she snapped.

That malicious grin grew. “And you’ve heard of me. Perfect. Hand over my son, and I’ll be on my way.”

She angled herself, shielding Kaden further behind her. “He is not your son. Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you flap your way back to where you came from.”

The smirk faded and something far deadlier took its place. “My blood runs through his veins—”

“Blood doesn’t make you a father,” she spat, vehemently. “You lost your right to claim him when you left him at that orphanage. Kaden is mine and Azriel’s son. Now and forever.”

“If you think I’m going to let you and that pathetic excuse of an Illyrian raise—”

Her blood raged like a weathered storm. One that toppled the largest of ships and swept armies into the depths of the sea. Her magic responded in kind, light bursting out of her and shoving him back a step. His eyes widened at the surprise drop she got on him. “That pathetic excuse of an Illyrian is a thousand times more of a male than you could ever dream of being. And if you say one more thing like that about my husband, I will gut you here in this park.”

The red siphon flickered on his chest in response to her attack. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” he demanded, voice edging dangerously close to levels Elain knew meant he was about to lose his temper.

She curled the corner of her mouth up. “A low-level camp lord with a single siphon? Yes, I know exactly who I’m speaking to.” She threw as much disdain in her voice as she could muster. “I think the better question is, do you know who you’re speaking to?” At his silence, she grinned. “Cauldron-blessed Seer. The Mother reincarnated. And what are you here doing? Trying to take a child away from his mother. Believe me when I say I won’t let that happen.”

“I’ll end you and your brat if need be,” he countered, taking a step forward to try and intimidate her.

But Elain had felt another’s presence as he neared. Saw in her peripheral vision the dark swath of shadows above their heads. “You hurt me or my daughter, you take my son, and I can promise you that you won’t make it out of Velaris alive.”

Before he could respond, a solid mass of muscle and wings dropped from the sky, forcing Lorenzo to take a step back lest he wanted to be smashed beneath Azriel’s large frame. Her husband’s knees bent as he landed, absorbing the impact. As he stood to his full height, his wings stretched out, blocking her and their children from the other male’s view.

The ground shook from his landing, and Elain felt Kaden push himself further into her legs. She brushed her thumb over the back of his head, hoping to soothe him with her touch.

“Get back,” Azriel growled, voice colder than what he used as the Night Court spymaster. Shadows skittered out, flitting around her and the kids, searching for any signs of injury. When they finished their assessment, they turned their attention back on Lorenzo, swirling like shards of ice, pushing him back, back, back. “Stay away from my son.”

“He is not your son.”

"We adopted him. We took him into our home. We fed him, and clothed him, and loved him. He is as much our son as our daughter is and nobody is going to take that away from us.” He took several steps forward, forcing the male backward again.

With the added space between them, Elain felt the shield in front of her reinforce itself.

“Momma,” Kaden croaked through the plaits of her skirts. Large tears filled his hazel eyes.

Her hand swept through his hair. “It’s okay, Kaden. You’re safe.” She pulled him closer to her hip, letting her other hand come down to rest protectively on his cheek. Her thumb brushed away the tears that spilled over his dark lashes.

Kaden buried his face back into swaths of her dress.

Thunder cracked like two boulders crashing together.

Elain’s head snapped to the side to see Rhys step out of rolling darkness, decked in his full Illyrian leathers. His lack of normal attire told her he had come ready for bloodshed.

“Lorenzo,” the High Lord drawled. “You’re far from home.”

The other Illyrian, seeing he was now outnumbered, grew even more furious. “I came to take what was is mine,” he fumed, reaching back for the sword sheathed across his back.

“He is not some object for you to collect,” Az stated furiously.

“He is mine,” the Lord shot back.

Azriel tensed, glancing back at her and then looking down at Kaden who was peeking at them behind her skirts.

Elain saw his hand twitch for the legendary dagger strapped to his thigh, but he didn’t grab it.

He returned his gaze to Lorenzo. “I’m not going to end your life here, no matter that you deserve it. My son has already seen enough bloodshed in his short life because of you. I won’t add to that.”

The camp Lord just smiled, “Then you’re only going to make him as weak as you are.” And then he struck, the Illyrian metal singing as it aimed for a killing blow—decapitation.

Seven blue siphons flared. Lorenzo went flying backward, his sword ripped from his hand by shadows.

“Daddy!”

“Kaden!” Elain screamed, reaching out to try and stop the little Illyrian from running into the fray, but it was too late.

His little legs carried him fast over the ground and Azriel barely had a chance to whip around before a little body tackled him. “Daddy!” he cried again, clutching at his leathers with small fists.

A blue shield shot up, enclosing her husband and her son in a protective barrier. He wasted no time lifting Kaden into his arms, a scarred hand threading through his black tresses to hold him close.

Tiny arms went around his neck as Kaden pressed his damp face above the collar of his Illyrian leathers. “I don’t wanna go,” he whimpered into his shoulder.

Azriel moved his hand from the back of his head to between his wings, rubbing strokes like he would when his son would wake with nightmares. “You’re not going anywhere, Kaden. Nobody is taking you from us.” He kissed the side of his head, allowing a few minutes to comfort his son.

Elain’s heart ached, wanting to go to them, but also not wanting to let a second child get too close to Lorenzo’s unhinged state again.

Azriel nodded towards her, assuring her that their son was safe.

It sent a wave of relief rushing through her.

He turned, finding Rhys hauling Lorenzo to his feet.

The disgust on the Illyrian male’s face at her husband holding their son made her hackles rise, enough so that her magic rumbled in response. She dampened it, not wanting to wake her daughter that somehow had stayed asleep through everything so far.

The look of the spymaster replaced Az’s hardened features. “I granted you a chance to walk away. I want you to remember that when your High Lord winnows you back to the camp to face him and your general. But if you come after my family again, you even have thoughts about my son, your life is forfeited.” Azriel gave his brother a curt nod, watching as the High Lord and Lorenzo winnowed away.

Shields lowered and both parents were striding for each other. Tears pricked her eyes as her husband embraced her and Rosalie with one arm, still holding Kaden in his other. Scarred fingers found her jaw, tilting her head up to bring their mouths together in a desperate kiss, needing to feel her presence. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his eyes darting to check over their daughter.

“We’re fine,” she breathed, her hand reaching up to lay it on Kaden’s lower back, rubbing it. She glanced back up at her husband’s face, seeing a look of awe that had settled there.

He called me daddy, he mouthed at her, silver lining his eyes. He had been waiting for Kaden’s willingness to grace him with that name—had been getting antsy for it.

Elain let out a choked sound, gripping her husband’s wrist with her other hand. I know, she mouthed back.

Kaden twisted his head, propping his cheek on Azriel’s shoulder, his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

The shadowsinger dropped a kiss to his forehead as Elain let her nails scratch at his back. “I was going to suggest we go get a frozen treat after our walk,” she started, catching her son’s eyes. There was a far-off look that she didn’t like seeing. “Does that sound good to you, Kaden?”

The little Illyrian nodded, though he gave no vocal response.

It worried her, his unwillingness to speak. They had broken through so many barriers in getting him to open up after he came home with them—she hated the idea of this setting him back. “Do you want to see if daddy can join us?” she tried, seeing how he clung to his father, though she knew Az had no intentions of leaving them alone.

Not for a while.

She also knew Az was well aware of what she was trying to do too.

Kaden was silent for a moment, but both parents waited patiently, giving him the time to voice his thoughts. “Can you, daddy?” he finally whispered.

The shadowsinger visibly hugged him tighter, resting his cheek on the top of his head. “Of course, we can,” he choked out. The emotional vulnerability rang clear in his voice. Lifting Kaden higher up on his hip, Azriel took Elain’s hand in his scarred one and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles.

Her heart swelled. Resting a hand on the back of a still sleeping Rosalie, the family of four strolled through the park and spent the rest of the day enjoying treats and each other’s company.

~~~~~

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