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[juniperburns]

Day 10: kiss

Samantha dragged a hand down Ethan’s chest as she leaned in, purposefully, enticingly, teasingly slow. Heard his breath catch in his throat as her nails scraped along the thin fabric of his shirt.

“I just keep…” She licked her lips, made sure he watched the sensual movement of her tongue. “Running into… you.” At that last bit, she canted her hips forward, pushing their bodies together at the exact spot where she found herself wishing neither was clothed. He groaned, a low dark noise deep in his throat that caused heat to pool between her thighs. And she smiled at the impact she had on him, the madness she could stir up in his blood from merely a few words and light but targeted touches.

She expected him to lean in to their embrace, to press their bodies together wherever they could touch, to feel his warmth cloaking her. Instead he took a step backwards, grabbing her hips roughly and pulling her back with him. Another step, and then another, and Samantha found herself unable to pull away.

Finally Ethan had backed up as far as he could go; he hit the thick trunk of a tree and stopped suddenly. The momentum between them sent Samantha forward, pressing against him. His hands never left her hips, and he bucked his own, pressing the hard ridge of his erection against the softness of her skirts. Layers of fabric separated them; the press of his solid body against her own shouldn’t have made her burn for him this much.

And yet…

She raised her hands, her body acting on some instinct that her mind hadn’t caught up to yet, and cupped his face between her palms. Between the firm oak behind him and her hands on either side of his head, he was captured. She had him here for the taking; all she needed to do was lean forward and touch her lips to his. Her lips that had started aching for his kiss once more.

And so, Samantha held him steady as she stole first one single kiss from him, pulling away before he could respond. His lips were warm and welcoming, but it was crazy to give into this draw between them. Not when he stood between her and the scroll.

And yet…

She should have known one small, semi-chaste kiss would never be enough. Should have realized that this hunger for him had gone too far; that she wanted to possess him and be possessed by him. In her mind she could envision their naked bodies tangled together. She could even recall the brief but filling sensation of him inside of her. So much time had passed, she had been young and he had been drunk. But now? Now there was nothing between them but a torrential heat, sparks of mutual desire… and Samantha wanted nothing more than to light a match and drop it into the space between them.

She kissed him again, and it felt like an inevitable conclusion that she would do so. She lingered, moving her lips against his, and he opened his mouth to her kiss. He inhaled from her just as she exhaled her own desires into him, and then oh, his tongue joined the fray, driving all thoughts from her mind as he deepened their kiss. Giving her the passion she craved and taking her own into him at the same time. Letting her know that he wanted her just as unforgivingly as she craved him.

[juniperburns]

Day 9: post-canon

Okay, here’s the deal. I understand the plot points. The rising action, the point of no return, the climax. The gentle exit of the denouement. Then the story fades away.

The problem is that I’m your main character, and my life continues when you close your computer. Or who knows? Maybe it doesn’t. I’m left behind after whatever epic adventure you wrote me into and then out of. Do I stay here? Do I continue on? When you’re not writing my story, does my story exist?

Is it even worth pondering, like a tired question of what happens if a tree falls in an abandoned forest? Are you going to end up being the author who revisits what happens after?

Or does it all just… turn to black?

[juniperburns]

Writer’s Month 2022: Day 8

word: heat | setting: enemies to lovers

Samantha Kaylin spun around furiously when she heard Ethan enter her tent. “You’re a sorry excuse for a Daemon,” she hissed. She was tired of hiding exactly what she knew about him. “Blood-bonded to a Hunter? Living as a human? Your ancestors would be so ashamed of you. A hired lackey for humans meddling in things he shouldn’t.” She took a breath and stepped closer. “Pathetic.”

Their eyes locked. She watched his nostrils flare, his eyes heated with anger and…something. For a moment she was sure he was going to throw her to the ground. But for what reason…? He looked like he wanted to hit her. He also looked like he wanted to tear her clothes off. The tension radiated between them, almost a physical thing that hung in the air. He was breathing heavily.

“I don’t think you’re any more human than I am,” he snarled. “I will figure out exactly who and what you are. You call me pathetic for hiding? It’s the reason I’ve survived much longer than you in this world. You’re a foolish girl playing with fire.”

“I don’t mind getting burned,” she said. His gaze dropped to her lips. Speaking of fire? Her blood was boiling, her heart pounding, a traitorous pang of desire making her wet. For him. It was one thing to play the seducer in this game of theirs. It was entirely another for her body and her mind to respond to his presence authentically. She watched as Ethan raised a hand, so slowly compared to the intense mood in the tent. His claws had come out. She held her breath as he traced a solitary black claw with silver streaks down her cheek. Across her lips. Samantha shuddered. The claw continued its gentle exploration, down over her jaw. She tried not to think of her own claws, willing them not to slip out unbidden.

“Come to bed with me,” Ethan whispered. His words broke her free of the moment. Samantha snapped back so rapidly that his claw nicked her neck. She could feel the tiny trickle of blood running down her collarbone.

“Does this work on others?” She asked, reclaiming her cold persona. “People want to know what it’s like to bed a Daemon?”

“If you gave me a chance,” Ethan said, “I would show you so much pleasure, you’d scarcely be able to walk for a week.”

She turned her back to him to hide her shudder. If she wasn’t looking at him, then she wasn’t thinking of him, wasn’t imagining him naked and moving above her. She could see it all in her mind: how explosive they would be.

Too bad explosiveness was the last thing she needed in her life right now. She remained with her back to him for what felt like hours. Until finally, he turned and left the tent without a word. And Samantha ignored the empty feeling he left behind.

The firelight brightened Lor’s face, drawing attention to the shadows encompassing the forest around them. Ethan stepped into the ring of light. Lor glanced up quickly, their look of alarm giving way to calm awareness in an instant.

Ethan stared into the flames for a few moments. The heat began to touch him, relaxing his body. Claws slipped out from his fingers. If Lor noticed, they didn’t remark. Makes sense, Ethan thought. He sat down across from the mercenary.

“How much of that did you hear?” He finally asked. Lor glanced up, meeting his eyes.

“She’s not a simple woman,” was their reply.

Ethan snorted in amusement. “Understatement of a lifetime. Fucking ice in her veins, that one.”

“That might be one of the nicer things I’ve heard said about her,” Lor said. A log in the fire crackled and gave a loud pop. Lor poked at the logs with a long branch, then turned their attention back to Ethan. “I don’t imagine people have many nice things to say about you either.”

Ethan shrugged off the comment. He wasn’t so frustrated by his ice queen’s words to not recognize that Lor was information gathering. They were a longtime loyal companion to Kaylin. And neither they nor she were precisely on his side. In spite of the day’s events. Of course, Ethan also knew that one had to give information in order to get it in return.

“I’m Daemon, I’m used to it,” he said. “But she’s the most confounding human I’ve ever known.” Ethan watched Lor carefully for any minute reaction that would confirm that Samantha Kaylin wasn’t actually a human. But Lor’s smooth face remained totally impassive. Not even a twitch of their eyes. Learned from the best, Ethan thought.

“I have found,” Lor began after a few moments of silence, “that we humans as a species live in moral grey areas. Even to the point of influencing the opinions of other species towards humans. Everything is black and white for the Fae folk and the Daemon clans. Humans try to follow suit, but we often fall somewhere in between the good and the bad.”

“I don’t believe that good and bad are distinct categories that never overlap,” Ethan said.

“Because you’ve spent decades among us,” Lor responded, meeting his eyes. “From what I understand. But at your core, you still find discomfort at what doesn’t meet your innate expectations. In case you were wondering why she frustrates you.”

“She doesn’t always frustrate me,” Ethan said.

“Of course not,” Lor said. “Half the time, you want to fuck her instead of fight with her.”

Ethan smirked. “Only half the time?”

Lor chuckled, even though there was no mirth in their eyes. “Just be careful.”

“Why?” Ethan said. “Are you going to tell me that she has hidden depths and I should be careful so I don’t accidentally break her heart?” Lor scoffed.

“Not at all,” they said. “Be careful, because she’ll eat you alive.”

[juniperburns]

Day 7: setting: castle

A noise in the distance startles me, and I open my eyes. I’m standing in the hallway outside of my private rooms, struggling to catch my breath. A vision, I tell myself repeatedly. It was only a vision. As further proof, when I look down, my hands are clean. No drying blood streaking across my fingers. Just unmarked flesh. For right now, I am safe.

Let’s just ignore the fact that all of my visions? Have come true. I shudder and go to enter my rooms. Footsteps pound from around the corner and I jerk around. Only to see my bodyguard, Moore, sprinting towards me.

“Apologies, Princess,” he says as he grabs my arm and begins to move me rapidly down the corridor by his side. “The castle is under attack, we must go at once.”

[juniperburns]

Day 6: setting: married life

“If it was possible to rip out your very soul from your body,” she begins with a twinkle in her eyes, “I think I’d be doing that to you right about now.”

“Aww, babe,” I reply, all sugary sweetness, “I love you, too.”

[juniperburns]

day 5: heart

Everyone knows what it means when we say someone is heartless. It’s never meant literally, as if someone walks around with a chest that’s physically missing something critical.

No, the missing item isn’t really a heart. I’d argue with you that when you call me heartless, you don’t actually mean anything is missing at all. I am not less anything. I don’t miss any aspect of myself.

You see me as heartless. But open your eyes and realize that what you’re seeing? It’s not a missing heart. It’s a wall. 

You can’t replace a heart. You can scale a wall. Please don’t give up on overcoming mine.

[juniperburns]

day 4: melody

Harris surprised himself when he accepted this job. Escorting someone through the Hemlock Forest, this close to the monster mating season, was a risky endeavor. But the pay was good, and the blacksmith had assured him that this client wasn’t fussy.

After his last few hires, Harris would definitely appreciate low drama. A job with an easy goal, a clear outcome. It was the best a former soldier turned mercenary could hope for. Maybe after this job, he’d finally take some time off. Maybe plan what he wanted to do next. Divine help him, he was forty years old. A lifetime already lived, in this line of work. He really couldn’t do this forever, could he?

He met his client— a widowed farmer— on the outskirts of town. She was hitching a sturdy mare to a small wagon. The wagon was loaded down with a variety of wooden produce boxes. From a distance, he could make out corn and grains. Although not a farmer himself, Harris knew that the harvest had come late this year. If the farmer wished to sell her wares for a decent profit and make it back here before the first frost… unfortunately Hemlock Forest was the quickest route. Already there was a chill in the air that forebode another difficult winter.

He approached her cautiously. Harris was aware that he towered over most people, that his broad form was intimidating. He’d learned over the years how to make himself appear less. A master of polite professional to set any client at ease, but also make sure they were secure in his skills of protection.

“Mrs. Ward,” he began, “I’m Harris Kane.”

“Mr. Kane,” she nodded politely back as she finished securing straps across the boxes in her wagon. He made note of the basics; it always helped him with his work. She was a tall woman, likely close to his age, with skin weathered and tanned from working in the sun. She had the muscles of someone who had spent a lifetime on a farm. Therefore she wasn’t one of those women who married into farm life expecting it to be an easy lifestyle. No, this was a woman built for hard work. She didn’t seem intimidated by him in the slightest. She didn’t really seem to make note of him much at all. “There,” she murmured, more to herself than anything, “I’m ready when you are.”

Harris pulled the folded map from his pockets. “I’ve identified the most efficient route for us. It should take us about three to four days. We’ll do our best to avoid the mating grounds since the biggest risks will be around there. There are hunting cabins that still remain; if we can keep pace then we’ll overnight in those. Otherwise, we’ll make camp outdoors.”

“Either way is no issue,” Mrs. Ward replied. “My only goal is our safe arrival on the other side.”

“Mine as well,” Harris said. He mounted his horse, Trace, after the farmer had climbed aboard the driver’s seat in the wagon and taken the reins.

With no further preamble, they were off.

The first few hours were uneventful. On escort missions like this, Harris always took his cues from the client. Some wanted to chat, hear stories, tell tales. Others wanted silence.

Mrs. Ward fell in the latter camp. The only sounds for the longest time were that of the horses, and the steady turning of the wagon wheels through the rough dirt path. And of course, the noises of the birds overhead. Harris monitored this carefully. If the birds stopped chittering at any point, it meant a larger danger was nearby.

His ears were so finely tuned to the noise of the flocks above them, that it took some time before he realized a new melody had joined in. Harris glanced over to the farmer. She was humming, so softly that the sound almost blended into the overall symphony of the woods. Harris let himself simply listen for a time. The tune was pleasing to hear, even if the notes were low, with an almost haunting quality. With the song came the realization that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d listened to music. Which then had the unwanted effect of conjuring up childhood memories. Sitting around the bonfire with his parents and extended family, taking turns singing verses to the old folk tunes. The unexpected warmth that flooded him, and the wistfulness that followed, was both welcome and alarming.

The hum came to its natural conclusion. Harris glanced over and met the farmer’s eyes. She gave a slight smile, as if she’d somehow known everything the music had done for him. Then she looked forward once more, inhaled deeply, and began to quietly sing.

[juniperburns]

Day 3: gold

The one thing she can never, ever tell him: she wears his ring happily, but she looks at her left hand sometimes and misses the slim gold band that lived there the decade before. And it’s not because her husband would be jealous (how can someone ever really be jealous of a dead man?) It’s just that she can never seem to find the exact right words to explain the phantom feeling of her prior wedding band.

Her first husband was simply human; no saint and no villain. Just a person with all the happiness and complications that accompany humanity. And she knows there was indeed happiness there. She thinks it’s strange to reflect on the life she lived then, because at this point it all feels like it happened to a stranger. A marriage and a life that she read about in a novel, that she recalls vaguely from time to time.

Until those moments when she glances at her hand and sees a thin band of gold superimposed on top of the platinum one that lives there now. It makes time feel like a joke, like reality is expanding and contracting simultaneously. Her past and her future combine into one. She has to close her eyes to ground herself.

So no: she keeps this for herself because it’s only for her.

[juniperburns]

day 2: chance (18+)

There’s the space of a breath as no words are spoken. And then he says, “We always were magic together, weren’t we?”

My chest is heaving, my heartbeat starting to return to normal. I can feel the sweat cooling on my exposed flesh. I look up at him, holding himself up above me. The hard ridges of his abdomen resting against the softness of mine. Like my body would cradle him in every way possible.

He’s still inside of me. The heat of him remains even as his thickness begins to subside. He lifts a hand, brushes my bangs back off my forehead.

The aftermath of pleasure lingers as the immediate urgency of the prior moments starts to fade. So quick and necessary this all seemed.

Memories of the evening play back in my mind.

“Imagine seeing you here,” he’d said, once he realized exactly who he’d held the elevator door for. “What are the chances?” We’d hugged like old friends, forgetting the history and the weight of those years. He was here. Back in town for good? Or just for now?

A quick conversation and his heated glances told me that he still saw me as the one who got away. I stood too close to him even though we were the only two people on the elevator. My hip brushed against his hand at his side. The temperature rose.

The elevator dinged. “This is my floor,” he said. I raked my eyes up and down his body as he walked out. Turn around, I silently begged. Time and distance must not have muted our connection… because turn around he did. Wordlessly he extended a hand. I squeezed his fingers in mine as we walked down the hallway together.

I held my breath as he tapped his key card to open the door, and then flicked on a light.

“Can I get you a—“ his words were cut off when I launched myself into his arms and kissed him.

We kissed and kissed and kissed. The entire evening took on a dreamlike state.

He pinned me to the wall just inside the room’s entrance and then dropped to his knees. My jeans and underwear were soon around my ankles, and he was devouring me like a feast he’d forgotten but couldn’t live without.

Years had passed but he clearly hadn’t forgotten a single thing that brought me pleasure, and soon I was crying out his name while my fingers dug into his hair.

He was on his feet and his mouth again on mine, capturing my lingering moans. I made quick work of his belt buckle until I could reach in and grab the hot length of him. He groaned and pushed his pants down further. And then he was there, burying himself deep inside me. Like no time had passed. Like we’d stopped living our lives that one November day until this very night.

We only paused for a moment, our eyes meeting in a look that conveyed everything words weren’t capable of… and then we were moving.

He fucked me up against the wall for a while, my nails leaving indentations in his backside.

When he pulled back and motioned for us to move to the bed, I tackled him to the floor. I climbed atop him— such a familiar feeling— and sunk down, taking him deep. I rode him as he moaned and cried out my name. His fingers held tightly onto my hips.

Eventually we made our way to the bed, where we sunk into the fluffy hotel pillows together and made love properly. Again and again he brought me to the heights of pleasure. Then I watched him, studied his breathing, took joy in every moan and every drop of sweat. When he closed his eyes and let himself go to his own release, I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t believe any of this— the timing, the coincidence, any of it. When he opened his eyes at last and looked down at me, I saw his heart reflected back at me.

“We always were magic together, weren’t we?” he murmurs, trailing kisses along my face.

“Magic,” I repeat, satisfied and…joyful.

The details will follow. We’re together again and I know that this time I will make it work. I don’t want to watch him walk away again.

I kiss him, a promise of new beginnings and a rekindled past.

[juniperburns]

Day 1: promise

You could say that I learned the hard way never to trust one of the Fae. I’m another in a long line of humans who made a stupid mistake out of desperation.

Even now, I can recall that taste of despair in my mouth. The agony in my gut that drove me into the woods late that night, in search of an answer from the darkness.

The darkness responded. I just wish I’d known that the comfort of the night hid the monsters hiding within.