ead13

[ead13]

I would not be the first to suggest the great potential of MWRook x Emmerich, but have you considered...

...that despite what the game would have us believe, MW Rook absolutely knows who he is during their time with the Mourn Watch, because honestly, how many people are higher than he is within the organization? The man was on track to become a lich lord, and even if the average Mourn Watcher doesn't know about the lich lords, that still puts him at the forefront of Mourn Watch business, to say nothing of his work as senior necromancer, professor, and one of the few corpse whisperers alive in this era. Dude is at the top of his game! Meanwhile...

...MW Rook is a novice. Maybe that's because they are young and haven't had many years of training, especially due to leaving the Necropolis for a time. Or maybe they are actually fairly advanced in age and just don't have the skills needed to advance. Bonus points if they can't use magic, and that holds them back from advancement, keeping them relegated to more of the chores around the necropolis. Before the whole War of Banners incident, their sole claim to fame was being that one baby who was found by undead workers in the Necropolis. Simply put...

...MW Rook is totally out of their league, and they know it. When they go to fetch Emmerich, they struggle to call him anything but Professor Volkarin, despite his insistence that they use his first name. Their entire leader persona that they have been developing as Rook goes out the window as they instinctively defer to him. Despite all the ways they find themselves attracted to him, they sincerely believe they don't stand a chance in heck, but hey, world might end, so may as well shoot your shot, right? Except....

...while Emmerich may not have known them in the Mourn Watch, when he sees glimpses of the true Rook that appears when with the other companions, he is smitten and frankly a bit jealous. Why won't they be as open with him? He has never once been described as unapproachable, so this genuinely confuses him. And the flirting? Can't be serious. They probably see him only for his influence and wealth, or maybe the living embodiment of several kinks. It wouldn't be the first time, not by a long shot. Given his age, and the fact that they know very well who he is, this is particularly likely. This relationship is dead in the water until...

...they start talking shop. MW Rook is not a fade expert on par with Emmerich, but sometimes he makes a comment about life in the Necropolis and they can't help but chime in with memories of home. It turns a bit sentimental, and Rook realizes Emmerich really is approachable. Emmerich realizes they care more about the necropolis than they let on. The walls lower and things start to click but the journey is just starting, because...

...Rook needs to work on assigning themself worth beyond their role as "the one who will make decisions, damn the consequences". Being abandoned as a baby has never helped their self-esteem, and the glaring difference in status between them and Emmerich is hard to surmount. They just don't deserve the love of someone as amazing as Emmerich! Meanwhile, Emmerich doggedly builds them up, finding all the small ways he finds them wonderful and making them known. The man doesn't lack confidence, after all, and this is strictly platonic. However, once Rook has more confidence...

...the flirting gets even more serious, and Emmerich can't keep hiding behind his assumption that this is just a game to Rook. What starts as a "hey, world might end so what do I have to lose by flirting back?" situation quickly becomes more tangled as he grapples with his age and how desirable he actually is to a romantic partner. He KNOWS he can please them, at least for a time, but no one ever sticks around for the long term. Plus, there's the issue of him wanting to become a lich. If this isn't going to be casual fun, is it really fair for Rook to burden them with all the baggage he brings into a relationship?

In the end, their genuine love for one another, built on a foundation of trust and respect, is enough to push the issues into the open. They talk it all out, all those fears and lies they tell themselves, exposed to one another. MW Rook and Emmerich come to see each other for the human beings they are rather than the reputations and roles they have been assigned, and once that clicks for both of them, it is game over, power couple.

So, yeah, it's great that MW Rook and Emmerich share common experiences and knowledge, but have you all considered the potential for delicious angst that stems from power imbalance in this scenario?

[ead13]

Elder Scrolls Summer Fest Prompt: Family (F!Dunmer OC x Melar Sadus)

Telava did not ask for many things. Melar knew she was accustomed to taking care of herself in all matters. That she asked him to join her on an excursion meant this was important, and he agreed without hesitation even though traveling was difficult for him ever since being crippled. Without explaining much of what she intended, she helped him get situated and comfortable in the small, guar-drawn cart, secured the canopy to protect him from the sun, and began leading the animal down the road from Suran.

 “I’m sorry, Melar, I know you hate being carted around like this as if you were some noble who doesn’t deign to walk, but I promise we aren’t going terribly far.”

 “Telava, my love, will you tell me what this is about now? I admit, curiosity is getting the best of me.”

She exhaled deeply, though he didn’t sense any annoyance in the action. It felt more as though she was struggling to find the words. “I’ve been helping a scholar in Vivec City with some research on ancestral shrines. Finding and taking etchings from them in my travels. A bit of good, honest work even if I find the topic of his research…uninspiring. He believes there are thirty shrines scattered across Vvardenfell, but there are a few I haven’t found yet. He did some kind of triangulation and hypothesized a location where one might be, not too far north from Suran. There is something about it, though.” She fell silent for a moment, but Melar made no attempt to fill that silence; he simply let her work out her thoughts. “It might not be this one, but it is possible that the shrine near here belongs to House Aran.”

 “And House Aran is important because…?”

She sighed again, focusing her attention on the dirt path that branched off the main road. “I never told you. It never mattered. But before my mother passed away when I was a child, she told me our clan name was Aran. It held no meaning, a house that had collapsed long ago, not recognized by any of the Great Houses. Maybe they were all killed off. Maybe they committed some kind of taboo. Maybe they just had rotten luck and lost everything. Whatever the case, my mother was the only Aran left that she knew of until I was born. She gave me that name as if it had any value at all, as if it would help me somehow. It never has.”

They continued on without speaking for some time, until Melar finally articulated his thoughts. “And if this is in fact the Aran ancestral shrine, you might learn more about your ancestry. It might help you, or it might hurt you. Either way, I’ll be here to help you deal with whatever we may find. You are not alone, Telava, not anymore.”

“I know.” Though she didn’t look back, he could hear how pinched her voice had become. “It’s a strange thing. I never had anyone growing up besides my mother, and she died when I was still so young. When you don’t have a clan, there’s nothing protecting you. You scavenge for scraps. You fall ill. You are…taken advantage of.” She didn’t have to explicitly say it for Melar to know what she meant; it had come up as their relationship had developed, when she unconsciously flinched at his attempts to become more intimate. It always put his stomach in knots to think of the things she had endured before their paths had crossed. “Mother didn’t stand a chance living that kind of life; the disease got her. And grandmother before her. I never even met grandmother, and Dunmer are supposed to live for centuries! It’s…it’s all so unfair.”

Suddenly, the cart rolled to a stop. They were near a lake, but Melar knew this had nothing to do with it. “It seems like everyone else has a family. A lot of them are dysfunctional and filled with bitterness, but they never have to worry about surviving thanks to the ties that they have. I used to dream of escaping Vivec City and joining the Ashlanders out in the wastes, but I know even they wouldn’t have a cast-off like me. Morrowind society dooms us to die, and our only crime is not belonging to a House. I hate it. I hate the Great Houses for their damn political games at others’ expenses. I hate the Tribunal for not doing anything to help. I hate Morrowind to its core!”

Telava would not turn around, but she was roughly brushing her face, no doubt to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall unbidden. It was a sight he could not stand. “Telava, why don’t you move the cart off the path, let the guar graze, and come join me back here.”

He never made it sound like a command, his deep voice authoritative but soft around the edges, yet she always wanted to obey him without hesitation. She was a fool for him, a fact she realized early on, but thankfully he had yet to abuse that fact. Being what it was, she nodded her agreement and led the cart closer to the lake. Then, she unhitched the guar and tethered it to a nearby tree. Finally, she wiped her eyes one more time before joining Melar in the cart. She said nothing the whole time.

“Telava…” His voice was tender, and his fingers gentle as he wiped away any stray tears. “I knew bits and pieces from what you’ve shared with me before, but I’m starting to see now the big picture. I want to thank you for allowing yourself to be so vulnerable with me; it is an honor to be trusted that way.”

“You deserve to know what you’re getting into,” she mumbled, still averting her eyes. “All the baggage that comes with me. It wouldn’t be fair for me to give you the wrong impression.”

“Hmm.” As he hummed in thought, he let his thumb run the length of her chin. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, though to be honest, Telava, I didn’t intend to have this conversation at a time like this.”

To his shock, she flinched. “I can’t blame you, Melar. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I…”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “I have been thinking on what it would be like to start a family with you, Telava. That is, if it was something you wanted.”

For the first time since they left Suran, Telava met his gaze, searching for any indication that this was a cruel joke. There was only love there. She could scarcely breathe. “With someone like me?”

“Exactly because it is someone like you.” Melar leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. “And if you agreed, I’d link your clan name with mine and we’d start a new House. House Sadus is dying, though it is still in the early stages. Low birth rate, no deeds of mention in the last several generations, premature deaths. But I am the Marshall of Suran, you are the Scarlet Judge, and we have everything we need to raise a family free of want, secure in their future.” He paused, suddenly looking concerned. “Of course, if you have no interest in having children, that is fine as well. I want to be with you regardless, you understand?”

Her response was to throw herself at him, nearly knocking him over. Hot tears blotted into his shirt, though this time they were tears of joy. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want a family with you, Melar.”

[ead13]

Elder Scrolls Summer Fest Prompt: Dragons (F!Nord Dragonborn x Quintus Navale)

“I want to show you something,” she admitted, setting down the oversized knapsack on the table. It nearly collapsed the rickety wooden piece of furniture under its immense weight. Quintus couldn’t help but stare, realizing she had been hauling such a burden around Skyrim this entire time. Small wonder she was so strong…

“What in Mundus do you have in there?!” he exclaimed as he set aside the paring knife and wiped his hands. “More Dwemer loot? It looks heavy enough to be a couple of struts.”

Fjori smiled. “No, quite different. Think of something even older.”

He blinked. “Older than the Dwemer? That’s impossible, that would have to be something…Merethic. Then again, the Dwemer lived in the late Merethic era as well…”

“Did they? Well, if they did, there is no mention of them in our legends until Ysgramor arrived and drove the Snow Elves underground.”

“So before Ysgramor is what you’re telling me.” The alchemist frowned, wracking his brain. “Well, I admit, I don’t know much about Merethic history unless it involves Ayleids. What WAS happening in Skyrim before Ysgramor?”

Instead of responding, Fjori opened the knapsack and slid a massive skull onto the table, one replete with razor-sharp teeth and horns. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the gaping maw snapping off a man’s entire arm in one violent chomp. To see such an exotic sight, Quintus’s mouth gaped in shock. “Ta-da!”

“Fjori, is that a…dragon skull?!”

“That’s right.” She looked well-pleased with herself.

“Where in Oblivion did you manage to get such a thing?!”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Think about it for a second, Quintus.”

He paused, then his brow furrowed in understanding. “You killed it.”

“As is the job of the Dragonborn.”

“Divines, I know it’s what you do, but…how to explain…” He paused, tapping his foot as he thought but never taking his eyes off of the skull. “It was always something abstract, I suppose. You kill dragons. I do a quick mental sketch of you lopping the head off some giant lizard. Seeing this, though…” He reached out to touch the skull, but decided against it halfway there, as if suddenly feeling it might take a finger despite being severed from the rest of the dragon. “It’s hard to imagine any human killing something this terrible.”

Fjori scratched the back of her head. “This is actually dragon number…let’s see here…eight, I believe.”

He couldn’t help it. He looked at her with something akin to awe and reverence. “It’s stupid, I know that, but seeing this puts it all in perspective for me even though I acknowledged what you do. You really are incredible, Fjori.”

“Hey now, none of that. Don’t make me regret showing you this.” Fjori was blushing as she picked up the skull. This time, it was clear just how much it weighed, because he could see the way her well-developed muscles strained. “I just figured, seeing as I’m the Dragonborn, I ought to show you a trophy. Killing them is a part of my reality after all, and you don’t really get a chance to be involved in that. When I head out for a week or two to find new shouts, I have a tendency of dispatching a dragon here and there.”

Funny, she seemed like a cat that left its human a rat on the doorstep, though on a much grander scale. As with so many things, he found this rather heavy-handed attempt at sharing to be endearing, and he felt his heart flutter. “So what will you do with it? Come to think of it, what did you do with the other seven?”

“Well, I mostly let the others that participated in battle with me keep the bones and scales as trophies. The Whiterun guard has a skull in their barracks, for example, from that first dragon we dispatched at the watchtower. Of course, Lydia also has one, a sort of badge of honor for her service. I just thought it was about time I had a trophy of my own, one just like the Jarl of Whiterun has in his keep from Olaf One-Eye’s duel with Numinex in the old tales.”

“While it would be fitting, please tell me you are NOT planning on hanging it in the bedroom?”

The very thought made the warrior burst into laughter. “Shor’s bones, no way! It would be impossible to sleep with that thing watching you all night!”

“Ah, good.” Quintus looked visibly relieved. “It is rather unsettling to look at, to be honest.”

Fjori set the skull back down. “Even more so when it still has the beady eyes, which are thankfully no longer glaring at me. It’s always such a cold look they have, as though I’m little more than an insect to them. Cruel. Filled with disdain.”

When Quintus noticed the way she shivered, he quickly moved in to wrap his arms around her. “It certainly paid the price for underestimating you, didn’t it? In fact, perhaps that arrogance hastens their downfall in general.”

“I suppose so.” She paused in thought, basking in the warmth of his embrace and letting herself relax in his arms. “Do you know the old legend about Kyne and the Voice?”

“The Voice being the way you shout words in the dragon tongue?” She nodded in affirmation. “I’m afraid all I know is that the power exists, that the Nords used it in battle long ago, and that Talos was the last one with the ability before you.”

“Mankind didn’t always have the ability to shout as the dragons do. They were dominated by the dragons, who viewed themselves as far superior beings. Humans built temples and offered sacrifices to appease the strongest of the totem animals, but they and their chosen dragon priests were cruel overlords. Finally, the people prayed to Kyne for deliverance, and the Goddess of the Storm had pity on us. She taught us how to shout as the dragons did so that we could fight back and win our freedom. An entire war was fought, with mankind emerging the victors.” In the back of her mind, she also recalled that they hadn’t actually defeated Alduin, only pushed the problem back into her era for her to deal with, but she said nothing about it. Quintus didn’t need that worry.

“That’s…wow! Why don’t more people talk about that? It seems like a very important event, on par with the overthrow of the Ayleids or the Exodus of the Chimer.”

Fjori sighed. “Without written records, people dismiss the old legends as mere stories. My own people let the memories fade, and the evidence of this era is scattered all around Skyrim! Even the bards do not sing of history that ancient, only of stories recent enough to be handed down from eyewitnesses. Now the dragons are back, and we know nothing of how our ancestors fought them or the role they used to play in our culture.”

“A cruel trick of fate, that is.”

“And worse, the only ones that do know anything about dragons are outsiders, an organization with roots in Akavir of all places! We fought an entire war against the dragons, but have no knowledge to show for it. How could we have let it all disappear?”

Quintus did not like the melancholy overtaking her features. “You should write down what you learn as you fight the dragons and defeat Alduin, or have someone transcribe your stories as you tell them. Then, there will be records for the future generations.” Assuming she survived the ordeal and the world didn’t end, rendering that a moot point. Damn, he was supposed to be cheering her up, not bringing himself down!

She didn’t give him a chance to sink too far into those pessimistic thoughts. “You really think so? I’m not much of a scholar, as you are well aware.”

“I do. You are a great storyteller. Plus…” He smirked. “You have a perfect paperweight for your documents.” Finally, feeling slightly braver, he reached out and patted the skull on the table.

Her smile reached her eyes as she hugged him tight. “Okay, I think I can do that. We fear what we do not know, so let’s weaken their grip on us with learning.”

[ead13]

Best part of the Outer Worlds ending for me was...

Chairman Rockwell: “I will send my terrible death machine to utterly decimate you!”

-My Captain blinks, walks over to the terminal, clicks a few buttons, and the “death machine” in the next room keels over dead.

Chairman Rockwell: (surprised to see me waltz in) “Well, now you will face me!”

-My Captain raises her gun and puts a single bullet between his eyes.

The end. 

Best final boss fight ever lol

[ead13]

Kieran x Mary-Beth First Valentine’s Day

I was doing a lot of driving this weekend and these are the thoughts that came to me, being post-Valentine’s.

-Mary Beth is super excited to finally have someone courting her on Valentine’s Day. She’s always had all kinds of romantic ideas about what it would be like.

-She is, however, a realist. This IS Kieran she’s talking about, and he never has a clue as to the date. No doubt he is unaware of the special holiday coming up.

-She decides to head into town to buy him a simply-worded Valentine and plans on making him read it aloud without telling him what it says. No doubt after he reads it he will blush. She can’t wait.

-He looks positively bewildered when she hands him a paper heart with words on it. Valentine’s Day? What’s that, some holiday where they celebrate the founding of Valentine? What does that have to do with hearts?

-This Mary-Beth did not expect. She tries to explain what the holiday is about, because apparently Kieran has never heard of it. He’s confused as to why people decide to do nice things for the people they love on a specific day instead of every day. That’s a fair point.

-Confusion turns to panic. He knows how Mary-Beth loves romantic things and probably has expectations that he is not meeting because he is an uncultured rube. She assures him she isn’t upset not to get anything, but he doesn’t believe that. Perhaps disappointed is a better word.

-He dismisses himself without ever reading his valentine, rapidly devising a plan to spoil his girl. Problem is, he hasn’t got any money... Mary-Beth looks concerned, but she informs him he should meet her later that night for some...special Valentine’s action...

-Kieran decides to write a valentine, but the only paper he can come up with without asking someone is some paper used to wrap a parcel. It will have to do. Then, he is upset because he is in a rush and he doesn’t know how to write a lot of the words he’d like to use.

-When he’s done, he shoves it in his pocket. After chores, he’ll head out and pick some flowers for her. 

-While gathering the flowers, he finds some raspberries. She’d love those! It’s as good of a sweet as he’ll be able to get her, and in his haste, he gets his hands all scratched up. Then, he slips in some mud while trying to grab the flowers.

-It’s later than he’s realized, and he doesn’t have time to get washed off before meeting with Mary-Beth! He’s so embarrassed as he shows up in front of her tent covered in mud. He’s babbling his story while waving crushed flowers and holding out smashed raspberries and he’s apologizing the entire time.

-Wait! At least there is the valentine! But when he digs it out of his pocket, he realizes it got so wet that it tore and the ink ran. Literally everything is ruined and he is about ready to cry.

-Mary-Beth stops him. “This is the most romantic thing I have ever heard of, even with all the books I’ve read! You just worked so hard to make me happy! Come here, let me wash you off...”

-Her happy humming as she begins to pull off his clothes is interrupted as she wonders what the valentine actually said. “To the girl that stole my heart”, he mumbles. “Because, you know, you pick pockets.”

-That is the start of a LONG night ;)

[ead13]

Happy Trails, Old Friend

I don’t know why I got the urge to write about Branwen dying (of old age and very happy, I can assure you!), but here it is. Also, Arthur has a soft spot for Kieran and you can’t convince me otherwise.

               “Papa! Papa! Something’s wrong with Branny!”

               Kieran could feel a knot of dread form in the pit of his stomach. This news shouldn’t surprise him; he’d noticed how Branwen was faltering, and when he really thought about it (which he rarely had time to do now that he was juggling five kids and counting), his longtime companion was old. Actually, very old. Considering Branwen had been middle-aged, probably in his teens when he was assigned to him in the army, that meant he had lived a damn good, long life for a horse.

               Knowing that didn’t make the thought of saying goodbye any easier. No doubt Becky was the bearer of bad news.

               “Let me have a look at ‘im,” he answered quickly, dropping the curry comb he had been using to brush one of his charges. Still, he did his best to remain calm for his daughter’s sake as he closed the door to the stall. No need to start the little girl crying. Before he could take her hand, she was running on ahead to the pasture where Branwen spent his golden years grazing in peace. Even from a distance, he could see the flaxen roan horse was lying on the ground. He could hear the sound of weak braying carrying across the field. No, this wasn’t good at all.

               By now, Leah had heard the commotion and come running from across the yard where she had been feeding the chickens. “Papa, what’s wrong?”

               Kieran stopped and waited for his second-eldest to join them, but it wasn’t long before Becky was tugging on his arm. Linked together, they finally arrived at Branwen’s side. The old boy’s breathing was labored, more of a shudder than anything. It didn’t take more than a second to understand the situation. “Girls, you oughtta say yer goodbyes to ol’ Branwen.”

               “You mean he’s gonna die?” Becky looked at him with wide-eyed horror.

               He reached up and rubbed his beard, trying to pass off his anxious energy so they wouldn’t catch it. “Horses don’t live as long as people do, sweetie. As far as horses go, Branwen is a real old man. Most of ‘em don’t even live to be this old. He’s had a good life, a very happy one here with us.”

               “We can’t help him?” Leah wondered sadly, reaching out to pet the quivering animal gently. Becky followed suit.

               Kieran just shook his head, gritting his teeth to keep his emotions in check. “That’s just how it is. But he’s lucky that in the end he’s safe and loved and taken care of. Not every horse gets that.” He was trying to encourage himself just as much as his daughters at this point. The only thing making this easier was the heart-warming way they hugged the ailing creature, burying their faces into his well-groomed coat. They had grown up with Branwen, riding the gentle horse when they were still small enough for him to carry their weight. Yes, so much love. All the love he deserved.

               “You two take yer time sayin’ goodbye. I’m gonna go find yer ma and let her know.” More than that, though, he was going to see if he could convince Mary-Beth to take the kids to Uncle Arthur’s farm for a visit so he could put his dear friend out of his misery without having to worry about traumatizing his kids. Also, so he could cry about it in private.

 VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

                 He thought he’d have to work harder to convince her, but Mary-Beth was a saint. Even juggling five children under the age of 10 and half-way towards their sixth, she quickly agreed to give him the space he needed. Emma went to say her goodbyes too before being packed up in the wagon, but Rachel and Kieran were too young to comprehend the situation. Mary-Beth would have visited the old horse too, but she had her hands more than full. Instead, she pulled him into a long embrace. “I’m so sorry, dear. I know Branwen means the world to you. When I get back and the kids get settled, we can talk.”

               “Thanks, darlin’, for everything,” he murmured, squeezing her tight. “I think I’m gonna need it. That and a bottle o’ whiskey…”

               When she released him, she found Becky and Leah at her skirts. “Papa, are you okay?”

He kneeled down to pull both of his girls into a big hug. “This is gonna be very hard for me. I love Branwen very much. But he’s sufferin’, and it wouldn’t be fair to make ‘im keep sufferin’. Sometimes when ya love somethin’ you gotta let it go.” Damn, his eyes were getting misty!

“Should I stay with you?” Becky wondered, looking up at him and no doubt seeing every hint of distress in his face.

He gave a small smile. “No, sweetie. Sometimes ya hafta have some space away from other people. But when you both get back, I’m gonna need another hug, okay?”

“Okay.”

Finally, everyone was packed up and the wagon was heading down the road. That just left Kieran wrapped in an abnormal silence. He went to go pull out his shotgun. This had to be a clean kill, but as he reached for the firearm, he realized his hands were shaking badly. They continued to do so as he checked the ammunition and gunpowder. How the hell was he supposed to be able to do this?

In the end he decided that he’d just sit with Branwen until sunset, maybe braid his mane one last time, see if he’d eat an apple. He’d wait until his friend was asleep before ending it.

 VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

                 There were many tears in those precious hours, and he felt bad for it, as if it would upset Branwen even more. His breathing wasn’t much better, but at least his braying stopped as his favorite human settled down next to him. Kieran had suspected long ago that Branwen couldn’t really see anymore, having watched him bump into things. He always reacted to his voice, though, and that brought him some level of peace. He couldn’t eat the apple, just didn’t have the energy even though it was his favorite. This really was the end…

               Kieran was so in the moment that he nearly missed the sound of hoof beats. Who in the world would be coming now? It was too late in the day for any customer to return for their horse, and the kids surely couldn’t be back this early. He didn’t really have the energy to get up and look. Once he got up, he’d have to pull the trigger.

               “Kieran, I figured you’d be draggin’ yer heels.”

               The familiar voice caused him to startle. “A-Arthur?”

               He looked up to find the imposing figure of Arthur Morgan towering over him as robust as ever despite the onset of some graying hairs. “Heard ‘bout ol’ Branwen when yer brood showed up at my place. Puttin’ a horse to rest ain’t no one-man job, so I thought I’d come over and assist. I’m assumin’…” he gestured to the wide expanse of land their ranch covered, “there’ll need to be a proper burial.”

               “Huh, yer right. Guess I didn’t think of that,” Kieran admitted, looking downcast. He turned his gaze to the sinking sun. “I ain’t got any more time left, do I? Not if I hafta get this done before they get back.”

               “I reckon not. I also reckon…” he paused, scratching his head awkwardly. “I mean, if ya want, I could be the one to pull the trigger.”

               It wasn’t the idea of the finality of a trigger pull; it was all the idea that Arthur was kind enough to offer. He lost it. “I’m sorry, I thought I was done with this!” he tried to explain, wiping the tears now streaming from his eyes as he stumbled to his feet. He didn’t want his emotions to disturb Branwen, who had fallen asleep. “It ain’t like I’m losin’ my wife or my kids, I got no reason to be actin’ like this…”

               Arthur put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Kieran, look at me.” The man struggled to obey, but Arthur refused to continue until he did. “I still remember how hard it was to lose Boadicea. I’d had that horse for a long time. But you and Branwen, even I know that was something more. You’d been down some pretty dark roads, all on yer own ‘cept for that horse. I know there were times he was all you had.”

               Now Kieran was crying uncontrollably in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to yet, all desires to handle this like a man crumbling away. “I used to say that all I knew ‘bout life was that people kept dyin’ and I loved horses. I thought Branwen and I would die too, alone. I don’t think I would have even bothered to keep livin’ if I didn’t have him to take care of. We finally got lucky though, him an’ me. You fellers took us in, got me on my feet, and now I’ve got Mary-Beth and five beautiful children and a home, and…and…” Finally, he let himself fall weakly against Arthur’s shoulder. “He got me through it all, but now his time is done, and I have other things to be livin’ for. Just gonna be an awfully big hole. It’s gonna feel so wrong after all these years.”

               It still was uncomfortable for Arthur, gruff as he was, to wrap his thick arms around the man, even for a few seconds of comfort. Still, he sucked it up for Kieran, because there was something touching about the idea that he trusted him like this with his vulnerabilities. Their relationship had always been one of mentor and mentee, perhaps the only one in Kieran’s entire life, and even after ten years and plenty of aging from both of them, that hadn’t changed. “That’s why I came, so you wouldn’t hafta do this alone. I’ll be the one to end it, so you don’t hafta.”

               “B-but, Branwen is my horse, my responsibility,” Kieran protested weakly, pulling away.

               “You have taken damn good care of that horse. There is no shame in lettin’ me do this,” Arthur insisted sternly. “Ain’t nobody gonna think less of ya for it, especially not when I’m offerin’.”

               It wasn’t worth a fight, not when he really didn’t want to do it. “Fine. Gun’s over there,” he gestured before wiping his eyes roughly.

               “Anything else you’ve gotta say to ‘im?”

               “Naw. It’s been said. And he’s sleepin’. I don’t wanna wake ‘im.”

               “All right. You go find some shovels and don’t come back ‘til you hear the shot.”

               He did as requested, flinching at the harsh sound of the gun and squeezing his eyes shut from his position in the shed. It was over. When all was said and done, they had a hole dug and Branwen buried, mane braided and apple given for his road to whatever afterlife there was for horses. Kieran desperately wanted to believe they’d go to heaven same as people so they might be reunited again one day. The dirt was barely filled in when the wagon bearing his family came rolling on in.

               Becky and Leah both jumped off as soon as it was stopped and came barreling towards their father, ignoring their Uncle Arthur completely. “Papa, we’re back!” They latched onto him immediately.

“Girls, I’m so happy to see ya.” Kieran wrapped his arms around them, then cast a glance at the rest of his family. His other children were squirming impatiently to be lifted down, but Mary-Beth took the time to meet his gaze. The concern in her eyes touched his heart. She may be busy being a mother, but he knew without a doubt that she was the best wife a man could ask for. Then, he looked to Arthur, who seemed amused by his nieces’ open affection. When he saw him looking, he nodded and grabbed the shovels, heading to the shed to put them away.

               Good Lord, Branwen was gone, but look at everything he had now, things he could only dream of when they’d first met. It would be hard, but he could survive this loss now.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: O

O = Oral

O = Oral

Mary-Beth had felt like she was often the one pushing to try things. To be fair, she was the one who read romance novels, both sweet and risqué. She didn’t have it in her to ask for his mouth between her thighs though. Something about that seemed…greedy? Somehow even more intimate than their actual union? It was hard to say. All she knew was that it was an action straight out of those idealistic romances, one few women actually got. Maybe someday she’d work up the nerve.

           Better yet, Karen got to prying. After finishing a bottle one evening, she pulled Mary-Beth aside and started asking questions about how her relationship with Kieran was going, with a strong slant towards the physical side of things. When Karen got to bragging about how she demanded her men eat her out before getting anything, she wasn’t so drunk that she missed Mary-Beth’s wistful look.

           “He hasn’t yet, has he?”

           Mary-Beth actually blushed. “I don’t think he knows that’s a thing… I bet when he hears the men talk, it’s all rough stuff.”

           “And you haven’t told him yet?”

           “Well…no?” She wrung her hands nervously. “I don’t really know how.”

           “Hmph, for Christ’s sake, you call yourself an author! How do you not have the words? It’s just Kieran!”

           “I know, but-“

           “Look, I can take care of this real quick.” Before Mary-Beth could stop her, Karen took off. Part of Mary-Beth wanted to follow and restrain her, but the more dominant part was too afraid of what her friend was about to do to even be seen with her. Indeed, she noticed her pull Kieran aside from the small group huddled by the campfire. Somehow she managed to whisper, but the blush on his face and the way his eyebrows shot up gave her a pretty good idea of what she’d said.

           A few moments seemed like forever, but finally Kieran sauntered over, still looking flustered. “M-Mary-Beth, ya busy tonight?”

           “Kieran, I know what she said!” she blurted, burying her face in her hands. No use pretending. “You don’t have to. I mean, I understand where that might seem weird.”

           “But it’s somethin’ ya really want, right? Me usin’ my mouth, well, THERE?”

           His girl fell silent for a second, biting her lip. “Yes,” she finally whispered.

           “Well,” he scratched his head awkwardly, “ya know I ain’t got no idea of what to do, but if you’d help me learn, I’d give it a try. Karen tell me it feels real good for the woman. Seems like you’re always takin’ care o’ me and gettin’ the short end o’ the stick, so I reckon you deserve my full attention once.”

           “Kieran, it’s not about you owing me, you know that, right? I’m satisfied!”

           He shook his head, a lopsided grin forming. “It’s ‘bout makin’ ya feel good ‘cause I love ya. ‘Sides…” He began picking at some invisible speck of dirt on his jeans. “I ‘spose there are worse places to be than with my head ‘tween yer legs…” A slight shiver betrayed his interest. Before she knew it, she was pulling him in by the lapels for a deep, dirty kiss.

           “Tent. Now.”

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: N

N = No

N = No

           Being with Mary-Beth, Kieran always felt safe. He was almost entirely certain she was a kind, trust-worthy partner who would never hurt him (and he only held a tiny reservation simply due to the cruel nature of his life so far). He would offer her everything.

           Except one night he found out that he couldn’t.

           It was a toss-up for who put the idea in her head between Karen and a book she’d read, but she announced that she had a surprise for him. He couldn’t imagine what it must be, so he nodded and closed his eyes for her. Before he knew what was happening, she was pressing a strip of cloth over his eyes. “Everything will be a surprise this time,” she whispered seductively. “I’ll make you feel so good…”

           But honestly, he didn’t feel so good about it as she reached back to knot the cloth behind his head. Having his sight taken away, he felt a rising panic against all logic that dictated he was safe. Somehow, knowing it was Mary-Beth wasn’t enough. His body tensed, but she mistook that for a sign of anticipation rather than malaise. One by one her nimble fingers began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, eager to begin the teasing.

           The whimper that escaped him could not be mistaken for anything except fear, especially when paired with the way his body seemed to fold into itself. She paused her actions. “Kieran? Are you all right?”

           He wasn’t, not at all, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. After all, it was his fault for reacting this way when there was no reason for it. “U-u-of course!”

           But she was suspicious now, watching him carefully as she trailed gentle touches across his chest. He was flinching even though she’d touched him like this a million times with his eyes able to watch her. She could put two and two together, and so began to remove his blindfold. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe you.”

           As the blindfold fell away, she saw the look of shame on his face as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mary-Beth, I didn’t mean to ruin yer fun. I don’t know why I react like that, I know you ain’t gonna hurt me…” Now he was blinking back tears. “I can handle it, really I can!”

           Mary-Beth placed her index finger to his lips. “I’m sure you can, love, but that doesn’t mean I want you to. If it doesn’t feel good, you shouldn’t have to endure it. I love you, you know? I want you to feel good.” She began massaging his scalp in the way that made him melt without fail. “I should have asked you if it was okay to blindfold you before jumping in like that. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

           “Ya don’t…ya aren’t upset?” he wondered in disbelief.

           Mary-Beth smiled. “Not at all. I know that down the line we’re going to find something I don’t like either, and that you wouldn’t hold it against me. Besides, I enjoy you more than enough doing what we usually do.”

           Just like that, the nagging sliver of reservation he still had about being safe around Mary-Beth vanished.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: M

Wow, I’ve been busy tonight. It was a stressful day at work and I really needed an outlet.

M = Motivation

M = Motivation     

      It seemed horrible to say, but sometimes the best motivation for sex was simply opportunity.

           Living in a camp with so many other people, having jobs that kept them busy constantly, they had to take advantage of the chances they got when they arose and simply create the mood for themselves. That wasn’t to say they were unromantic and uninspired when they did come together, but one flirty gesture or suggestive remark during the day was not going to yield the desired results until well after the moment was gone.

           There was a phase, between leaving the gang and the birth of Rebecca, where they finally had the freedom to be more spontaneous. The couple jokingly refer to it as their ‘honeymoon’ phase. It was amazing, but short lived. Soon, children replaced the gang as the huge interference in their parents’ love lives.

           Kieran and Mary-Beth make one hard and fast exception to the rule, making sure to rearrange their schedules for some special lovemaking, and that is on their birthdays. After all, on their days dedicated to them, they want to remind each other that they are so very loved, and will go to great lengths to express their devotion. Even after children, both of them agree that the kids should take a vacation to other family, leaving them free for the day (though usually not the day of, so that the children can celebrate too).

           Kieran as a general rule won’t start anything. It’s an unspoken agreement, which doesn’t offend her in the slightest; she knows he doesn’t want to be pushy or demanding. Admittedly, he’d be game whenever, wherever. He leaves that call to Mary-Beth’s discretion, and she rarely disappoints. He can think of only a hand-full of times where she’s been so busy or tired that he timidly offered the suggestion. No, most of the time, a few off-handed compliments and a bat of her eyelashes and he knows she’s thinking about it. As soon as feasible, he’ll be sating that hunger.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: L

L = Location

L = Location

He would never speak badly about their spot down by the river. How could he, when it was the place where they made their first intimate memories? There was certainly something to be said about the majestic beauty of this natural location, close to the water he loved to swim and fish in. It was about the only place to go for some privacy as well.

           Still not his favorite. The rocks were not very comfortable at all, and there was always a sense of paranoia that someone would find them.

           Once the stars aligned, they started getting frisky in camp. Kieran had worked hard and saved up all his money to be able to buy a tent of his own, and Mary-Beth helped him break it in. The bed roll made it a bit more comfortable, and being shielded from view was greatly appreciated, but knowing they were surrounded on all sides by the rest of the gang was still…unnerving.

           He didn’t think it could be any better than in a rented hotel room. Though it cost money, they felt the most freedom. No time constraints. No need to keep quiet. Enjoying a bed for the first time in years was incredible, and they could even get cleaned up before sliding between the soft sheets. If only it didn’t require so much travel and money. Getting away was not often easy, requiring them to savor the experience every time they got it.

           Unbeknownst to him, there would be one location even better than that. Maybe it wasn’t as fancy as the hotel room, the bed constructed of simple wood planks and covered in home-made quilts of practical material, but it was theirs. In this little homestead where he raised the horses and she sat at her desk writing her novels, this bed resided, being moved from their first apartment in Saint Denis. They had privacy and comfort, tucked away in their own bedroom with four walls and a door, and it was always available to them.

           Best of all, it was where they began to grow their family.

           Now, they only go to a hotel when they need to get away from the kids for a while.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: K

K = Kink

K = Kink

           He hit that sweet spot inside of her, most likely a happy coincidence at this point, and she can’t help but cry his name despite the fact that they are in the middle of camp and trying to be secretive. It’s raw and it’s euphoric and the sound of it even more than the pleasurable feeling of being inside of her has him finishing, barely able to withdraw in time in response to this sudden surge of emotions.

           Mary-Beth wouldn’t be much of an author if she was anything less than observant. After he’s done taking care of her, and as they drift off into sleep, she reflects on the way he suddenly became overwhelmed at the sound of his own name. Mental notes are made.

           The next time it happens, she holds nothing back. When it feels good, she lets him know. Not once does she try to stifle the sounds with her hand as she normally does. She gasps his name, and even goes for words of praise and encouragement. Kieran is quickly worked up. She says his name like she NEEDS him. How long has it been since anyone has needed him? She says it like he can deliver everything she could ever want, that he can be everything for her. Christ, the feeling is intoxicating, makes him feel twice the man he ever felt he was. It’s enough that he purposely tries to get her to be vocal, going for every trick he’s learned so far. Gone is his shyness about what they are doing, about the rest of camp hearing. Let them know! Let them hear just how good he can make her feel!

           It’s a good thing he was already thinking of pulling out when she desperately tugs at his hair, because he absolutely loses it at that point. A few quick touches and she’s right there with him. After all, she’s always secretly wanted a more dominant partner. Kieran is first and foremost a considerate and gentle lover, and she would have him no other way, but this fire she seems to have lit inside of him with her praise hones him to just the right edge that she craves. More confident. More assertive. Yet, he still looks at her when it is all over like she’s the best thing in the world.

           Now everyone else in camp knows it too. It’s worth the teasing they’re bound to get tomorrow.

[ead13]

Kinktober Musings for Kieran

Hard Limits:

- Several kinks go hand in hand here, being that he associates them with fear and danger rather than pleasure thanks to life experiences: bondage, being blindfolded, pain, and anything involving weapons.

- No cuckolding. He’s finally found someone who loves him, and he will NOT be able to handle the feelings of abandonment.

-He’s spent so much of his life being degraded and looked down on. Don’t go for humiliation; besides the undesired pain, it is a complete turn-off.

Soft Limits:

- He could be convinced to participate in a threesome if his partner makes sure he remains involved with them at all times, but he would definitely have to trust the extra participant. It’s not something he’s actually into, but rather something he’d endure if his partner really wanted it.

-He’ll be very nervous about putting on a show while his partner watches, but he trusts them enough to try. That being said, he will only put himself on display for that person and no one else.

-Anything involving the back door is unexplored territory, so he’s understandably nervous. Still, he’s heard it can feel really good, so he’d like to try. Just go slowly!

Kinks:

- He likes having his hair pulled. Not so much that it crosses into the realm of pain, but enough to feel his partner’s desperation for him.

-Roleplay has helped him find his more dominant side after spending his life submissive to nearly everyone. As long as it doesn’t cross any moral lines, he’s excited to try all kinds of combinations!

-Seeing his partner in lingerie. Like, they put all that effort in to look good just for him, and it is mind-blowing. Also, he loves how sexy and confident it makes his partner look. They seem like the ultimate luxury, and he’s a lucky man.

-Absolute praise kink. Also, the sound of his partner calling his name. It’s been such a long time since someone used it regularly, and never before with such need!

Extra note: I get the idea he’d be a switch. Like, he’s got a lot of natural submissive tendencies, but at the same time the feeling of taking control is intoxicating once he’s able to work up the nerve. It just depends on his mood that day and how his partner is coming across.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: J

Journey

J = Journey

           Once Colm and his top lieutenants were out of the picture, Kieran could travel without fear for the first time in nearly a year. The very first thing he wanted to do with that freedom was to take Mary-Beth somewhere civilized, to go on a date like normal people to restaurants and shows, get their picture taken, buy a trinket or two…

           And to finally get a room with walls and a bed!

           With Arthur’s blessing, they headed to Flatneck Station and boarded a train for Saint Denis. Perhaps Mary-Beth was thinking about the sights and tastes of the big city as flatlands and wetlands flew by the window, but Kieran was ashamed to admit he was more occupied by the thought of the hotel and all the ways they could take advantage of it during their overnight stay.

           He didn’t rush the journey, though. Once they arrived to the station in Saint Denis, they strolled the main boulevards, Mary-Beth chattering excitedly about the days before the Van der Linde gang when she wandered the city. So much was familiar, and so much had changed since then! She pulled him to a café she knew where they ate French food, and then they paid that photographer a visit at her behest before sitting in the plaza to people-watch. It was all very lovely, and almost enough to keep him from thinking about what would come next.

           They checked into their hotel, Kieran claiming the key after digging out his wad of dollars. He wasn’t messing around; he’d gone for someplace nice for this special occasion. It looked it. As soon as the door swung open, his jaw nearly hit the ground. What a large, spacious bed, covered in pillows and quilts! A fireplace with a fire already crackling! Why, there was even a complementary bottle of champagne sitting on the table with two fine crystal glasses! Apparently you got what you paid for. It made him feel woefully dirty though despite his best efforts earlier to clean up for their trip.

           “I reckon I’ll take advantage of that complimentary bath first thing,” he decided. “Don’t wanna sit on that bed ‘til I do.”

           “All right, I’ll go after you then,” Mary-Beth agreed.

           As he sat in the tub of hot water, he was conflicted by his desire to enjoy the first soak he’d had in years and the desire to get the job done so he could get to Mary-Beth sooner. In the end, he opted for patience. The journey had already been so long, why rush now?

           Mary-Beth seemed to feel the same way, he pondered as he flopped on the bed, shirtless, and fairly twitching with nervous energy. She was certainly taking a while, unless it was just him in his eagerness to get started. Finally, he decided to sit before the mirror and trim his beard so he’d be as handsome as possible for their romantic evening.

He’d used Arthur’s mirror before to do a decent job, but it was compact. Now, he was seeing even more of himself in the reflection, and it made him pause in surprise. Damn, he actually looked tolerable! When had that happened? His ribs no longer stuck out, and his skin had a healthy glow instead of being wind-burned and chapped. The dark circles under his eyes were barely noticeable. It must have been gradual, but the end result was suddenly registering.

He jolted back to reality when he caught a movement in the background of the mirror. It was Mary-Beth, back from her bath and wearing a long, luxurious robe. “Admiring yourself, handsome?”

Kieran blushed, setting down the scissors. So much for that idea. “Ain’t handsome…” he muttered as he averted his gaze shyly.

“Sure look that way to me,” she smiled softly, moving so she was behind him, wrapping her arms around him.

           It was hard to pinpoint why, but as they lay down to make love, it felt like some kind of homecoming, like the finale to a long race. But it wasn’t over. “Someday, we’ll have our own bed,” he decided, playing with a loose strand of her hair as they recovered.

           “You mean when you marry me and we buy a house of our own?” she hinted coyly.

           Oh, this journey was just beginning.

[ead13]

Kieran & Mary-Beth Date in Saint Denis

-They have to wait until Colm and company are dead, of course. It becomes a sort of celebration for his new-found freedom.

-Arthur “advances” them money for the train and lodging by paying ahead for some horse medicine Kieran makes. He knows it is important to Kieran that he be able to pay for this trip for Mary-Beth instead of receiving charity.

-Kieran makes sure to get as cleaned up as possible, and that means getting his clothes washed as well as he can. Unfortunately, the horse smell remains on his jacket despite his best efforts. Hopefully the train isn’t crowded?

-Kieran’s wanderings never took him to the big city, as his parents were always moving westward on the fringes of civilization. Mary-Beth, on the other hand, grew up in Saint Denis and has missed the bustle to a degree.

-It surprises her how many landmarks she still remembers from her pick-pocketing days even after traveling with the gang for a few years. A lot has also changed, of course.

-She knows a good restaurant to eat at once they arrive, because she’s had their table scraps before. It is surreal to actually be seated at a table and given a menu!

-It’s all French food, and Kieran is at an absolute loss. Mary-Beth is also confused; she knows what tastes good but has no idea what it is called. They both order something random (but relatively cheap).

-Much to their dismay, they end up with a plate of vegetables (ratatouille) and creamy potatoes (Gratin Dauphinoise) instead of something hearty! Despite it all, they clean their plates, because they know better than to waste perfectly good food.

-This means a mandatory stop for crepes to make up for a lack-luster lunch. They both agree they are about the best-tasting thing they’ve ever had!

-Mary-Beth wants to get a picture taken, and Kieran can’t believe it. He doesn’t exactly have a photo-worthy face or anything... She insists though, and who is he to deny her? Besides, it would be nice to take out and look at if she’s ever away. Or hell, now that he’s free, if he’s ever away.

-She laughs as they get situated, because she used to steal purses from unsuspecting people getting their pictures taken back in the day. She’s the one that pays for this luxury, seeing as it was her idea. Kieran doesn’t have the funds to argue with her.

-Mary-Beth still has enough that they could go see a show, but she doesn’t want to make Kieran feel bad by paying for something else too. Instead, they decide to sit in the plaza and just people-watch. There is just so much to see!

-Kieran is eager to head to the hotel, and she has a good guess as to why. This would be the first time they have privacy and an actual bed, and if he doesn’t have ideas on how to take advantage of that, she certainly does.

-They both take a hot bath, though one at a time. Kieran can’t even remember the last time he had a proper bath like this instead of just washing up in the river, and he almost falls asleep in the tub because it feels so good and soothing.

-Then, the bottle of wine is cracked open and the fun begins. It lasts well into the night and then again in the morning. They are going to get their money’s worth out of this hotel room...

-Kieran is a bit sad to go, but then he remembers that now he can earn money for himself and travel whenever he wants. Hopefully he can take her back here again soon.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: I

Intimacy

I = Intimacy

           Intimacy started from the first time she reached out and took his hand. There had been no physical affection shown towards him since his mammy and pappy died, nothing deep, nothing more than casual camaraderie. It was silly, but when Mary-Beth first held his hand, he felt under scrutiny. They were too rough, too dirty, and now that he was thinking about it, too clammy! Still she didn’t retract hers, she simply threaded her fingers with his and squeezed tighter. It was the first step. It promised things to come. It encouraged words he’d been too fearful to voice before, leaving him wide open.

           Then came the looking into his eyes. As self-conscious as he was about his looks, that was immensely difficult to endure at first. Meeting her gaze as she tried to peer into his eyes… She could see every flicker of emotion and doubt if he connected to her that way. This time it took coaxing, but he finally relented for a few brief seconds. Such a small thing, yet it left him breathless. Like riding a wild horse, each attempt lasted longer and longer as he grew more comfortable letting her in.

           She wanted to see more of him, and to be honest it was good that she instigated, because he might never leave his comfort zone otherwise. A kiss as she invaded his mouth, and her fingers beginning to unfasten the buttons of his shirt… Too much, too fast! Baring his body to her, with all its imperfections, that required courage. Mary-Beth pulled back the pace, revealing inch by inch and kissing it as it was exposed. Just the top half for the moment. With her eyes sweeping over his chest, that was enough.

           Finally the day came when he knew he was ready to go all the way. Though it had taken more time that most men would have required, he allowed himself to be vulnerable bit by bit, with Mary-Beth matching his pace every step of the way. She never pushed him, only took what she was given with enthusiasm and encouragement. Even now, she led by example, removing the last of her clothes and sprawling out on the blankets. Her eyes declared “All of me, for you”. But this time, he saw the flash of nerves there that matched his own.

           And he knew it would all be okay.

           He shed the last of his defenses and joined her, pushing down the fear. “For you, I’m ready.”

           At last the final barrier was crossed, and they could not possibly be any closer. They were one.

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: H

Hotspot

H=Hotspot

           Sometimes Kieran wondered if Mary-Beth wished she could get handsy with him the way Sean and Karen did to each other after getting drunk. People knew about their relationship now, not that either one was keen on broadcasting THAT kind of intimacy. Still, it seemed that a squeeze here and a grope there with a flirtatious wink was normal for a couple as long as it was on the sly.

           Kieran wasn’t normal, he was damaged goods. At least, that’s how he considered himself. Surprise touches put him in full-on fight or flight mode, especially after his time with the O’Driscolls; touches had never been good. Mary-Beth found that out the hard way, much to his embarrassment, the first time she snuck up behind him and gave him a light slap to the ass as he worked. He recoiled so hard that he scared the horse he had been grooming, and the resulting whimper was one of fear rather than arousal. Oh how terrible she had felt to have caused that reaction, and how mortified he was to have to explain it!

           She understood, of course, and she’d quickly agreed not to do anything like that again. That didn’t stop him from feeling unworthy of her for yet another reason.

           But Mary-Beth had an uncanny intuition. One night as they sat side-by-side at the poker table eating stew, she leaned against him. Their arms pressed together, which he thought nothing of besides an appreciation for her warm presence. Then, slowly, her hand brushed against his hip. He blinked. Had she slipped? The answer became clear when she slowly began to walk her fingers down further until she was gently squeezing the inside of his thigh. The part of him she’d confessed led to nothing but sinful thoughts on her end. Christ, thank God it was dark so they couldn’t see the way he turned bright red! He stared at her in disbelief, but she simply batted her eyes innocently as if her hand was completely unconnected to her. All the while, she massaged his thigh, stirring him to life within his trousers.

           So that was the compromise, then. As long as she gave him some warning, eased her way into any intimate touches, it was okay. Well, okay as long as no one was around to notice the effect it had on him…

[ead13]

Kierabeth NSFW Alphabet: G

Goofy

Special shoutout to beefbonanza for their help troubleshooting :)

G = Goofy

Sex was a serious business for two people who were just trying to figure out how it all worked. There was always a plan. It certainly didn’t help that they lived with an entire camp of people. Spontaneous wasn’t a thing, and neither were loud noises unless they could put some decent distance between themselves and others. They only ever had a certain amount of time. Sad as it was, both could admit that sometimes it felt like a chore despite how meaningful the act was to them, her coaxing him to move just so, and him trying his best not to disappoint.

He’s not sure when it happened, or what tipped the balance; all he does remember is the way Mary-Beth smiled up to her eyes as she lay naked beneath him. No, it wasn’t just a smile, it was a grin. He’d said something he hadn’t meant to be funny, but perhaps it came out wrong? It didn’t matter, because he was just so enamored with the sight of his girl like that, carefree and happy. He couldn’t keep the widest grin from spreading across his own face as he took it all in, which was an absolute first as far as this activity was concerned.

It made him feel free, like there was nothing he had to be for her, like just being himself was enough. And it changed his entire approach to making love to her that day. Oh, he still remained thoughtful as he worked to give her pleasure, carefully watching her body for positive responses, but the pressure seemed to have disappeared. So did the urgency. Murmured praises for the goddess beneath him flowed from his lips until he reached that precipice, breathless. She was not far behind.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that while we…you know…” Kieran attempted as soon as he got the air back in his lungs.

“Hey, the same goes for you, you know!” she protested, giving him an affectionate shove.

“I s'pose I’ve been tryin’ real hard.” He couldn’t force a frown now if he tried. “I like it this way though, Mary-Beth. I like seein’ you this way.”

She relaxed as she curled up next to him. “We’ll have to take notes for next time. Truth is, seeing you smile so bright turned me on.”

That was enough to get his heart beating faster again.