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kakushino · 1 year

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First... or Fourth?

Uzui Tengen x AFAB! Reader

You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...

Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader Word count: 7,9k

Masterlist | Part 2

Just a few more miles, just a few more…

You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul.

Uzui Tengen.

Your husband.

One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying.

He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact.

Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he-

No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other.

But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order.

The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.

You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.

The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you.

You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.

Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.

You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach.

You couldn’t wait.

Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much.

What’s going on?

“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.

He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?

“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women.

You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-

In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-

“Lord Tengen, who is this?”

The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.

A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together.

Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?

Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back.

His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home.

“Lord Tengen?”

The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.

“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.

Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you? Who are these women and why are they with my husband?

“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”

And with just one word - wives wives WIVES - he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name.

“Forever? You promise?”

“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”

It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.

Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.

Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with-

Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?

You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.

“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.

Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.

In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”

The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-

“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-”

His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-”

Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”

“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-”

You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.

“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.

And you weren’t immune.

You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two.

As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating.

“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.”

He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck.

You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”

He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.

But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.

"Tengen, breathe."

Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again.

More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"

His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.

"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.

Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.

“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him.

You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.

For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.

There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?

You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?

What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?

You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it.

“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.

You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open.

“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.

“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.

You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention.

Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.

It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.

Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.

The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it.

Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.

The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.

Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.

Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?

You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.

There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time?

Could you handle being the fourth wife?

You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday.

You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.

The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.

A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”

For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.

In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.”

He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.

“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”

He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”

You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.

Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.

“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.

Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.

You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.

The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.

You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.

The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.

“Oh, precious…”

Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.

“-ious? Precious, please answer me-”

You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”

He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you.

Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.

Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.

“Precious, please, tell me-”

The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.”

“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”

“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”

‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.

“Can I touch you?”

You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives.

“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”

Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.

The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.

His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.

He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.

Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-

His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.

His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-

His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.

You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.

And then there was a kiss.

Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

"[Name]!"

You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit.

Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.

“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.

The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive.

His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain.

Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.

You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.

“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.

His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.

Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”

Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.”

His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.

You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…

His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.

“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”

Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.

A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso…

Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves.

You flinched-

He made a sound of distress.

- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.

You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”

This is nothing.

The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.

This is nothing.

The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.

This is Nothing.

You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.

This Is Nothing.

Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.

This Is NOTHING.

You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out.

THIS IS NOTHING.

You vomited.

“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”

The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”

“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”

“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy.

His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.

Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.

“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus.

What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.

What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.

What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.

“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”

You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.

“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.

“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-”

The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.

He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.

You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.

“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.

You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?

At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.

An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.

You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”

“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.

That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway.

With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded.

Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.

“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside.

When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.

Something drew your attention though.

There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.

His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips.

The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.

“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”

His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.

“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.

You paused - and nodded.

One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.

Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes.

“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.”

When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.

“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.

You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.

“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious."

You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.

Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.

He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”

His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs.

Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently.

His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.

The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.

“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.

The thickly-wound knot snapped.

Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.

“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”

Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”

You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind.

He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.

“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.

“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.

“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.

He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.

“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”

“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”

“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.

You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…”

Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.”

He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.

His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.

You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.

“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between.

“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently.

The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.

“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”

The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.

There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.

Part 2

#desi writing #uzui tengen x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #angst #KNY fic #demon slayer fic #kakushino

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 5 months

Note

Do you have any Kane headcanons?

I sure do! <3

Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?•ko-fi•

EDIT: shout out to @reallyrallyauthor who has just posted some amazing headcanons too!

Smells floraly. It’s not an extreme/off putting smell, but it hits you every now and then. At first, you think it’s just his body wash or something, but pretty soon you work out it’s just him. (My brain is telling me especially like a Hawthorn scent for some reason.)

Animals love him. It’s almost like they are hypnotised/drawn to him. Wild animals will act domesticated/docile around him. Pets will instantly bond with him. He doesn’t seem to bat an eye at this and just acts as if it’s completely normal.

Once a grizzly bear came out of nowhere when you were both on a hike, despite the noise you had made sure you’d been making. You’d frozen, grabbing at Kane’s arm. But Kane had just cocked his head to the side and the bear had sat down peacefully.

“It’s fine.” Kane had told you, voice even and quiet.

But when he saw your panic, he’d nodded his head to the side and the bear had walked off that way.

He didn’t understand why you’d dragged him back to the car. “It was fine.”

“Grizzly’s kill people Kane.”

“We were safe.”

“You can’t know that.”

He’d looked at you carefully, as if you were a toddler trying to convince him you’d see a flying pig.

He doesn’t like to shake hands when meeting new people. It’s unsettling for him, makes his skin crawl. But he’ll do it anyway once he learns about social niceties to try to fit in. However, he’ll grab your hand afterwards and squeeze it rhythmically to calm down and get rid of the stranger’s touch.

He gets overstimulated easily in new situations around new people and will just shut down, not speaking and avoiding eye contact completely. His warning signs are subtle and easy to miss unless you’re paying attention.

However, if you’re near he’ll find you and just say, “leave.” quietly.

He also comes to you when he’s overstimulated, most of the time he’ll just bury his face in your neck to shut out whatever is causing him distress.

Despite not liking touching strangers he is more than happy to touch plants, animals and inanimate objects. And you.

In fact he rarely does anything without some kind of physical contact with you. Holding your hand or touching your arm or leg, putting his head on your shoulder, practically laying in your lap. He’s like a cat.

Doesn’t like it when you’re upset. It’s one of the rare times you see an immediate reaction from him, even if he doesn’t understand what’s upset you or made you angry he’s doing whatever he needs to to fix it. To stop you from feeling pain.

Someone once pushed you rudely in the supermarket and you frowned. Kane was one second away from throwing a punch. You had to drag him out of the shop and explain that that wasn’t an ‘appropriate response’.

He has settled on being very vocal if someone is impolite towards you, just saying “Rude.” very loudly and pointedly while staring the offender down.

People don’t like his stare. The one he only seems to use when something’s gone wrong. When someone’s trying to square up to him. It seems to stop them in their tracks and make them reconsider. Causes a little spike of terror in their hearts.

He’s never used the look on you, only gazing at you quizzically or softly.

He follows you around, a little lost at times. Needing to be in the same room as you.

At first it was a little disconcerting. The way he’d climb into your bed in the middle of the night. How he once got in the bath with you (fully clothed and not understanding your shock). You never feel scared around him though, you know he’ll never hurt you.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#kane #annihilation #kane x reader #x reader #kane x you #x you #kane x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #kane x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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roosterforme · 2 years

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You run into the last person you wanted to see in Annapolis, which leads to you and Bradley fighting over the phone.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oww!!" You were trying your best to keep it together as your friend Caleb gave you your first tattoo. But you weren't sure if the location was extra sensitive, or if you were just a gigantic baby, but it was hurting a lot.

"Let's take a little break," he told you, gently wiping your skin before he removed his gloves and went to get you a bottle of water.

You glanced down your body to where your leggings were pulled part way down, revealing a half finished tattoo that was clearly dedicated to Bradley.

Oh my goodness, you'd actually done it. The idea occurred to you when you were first engaged; a hidden tattoo that only he would see. Well, him and your doctors, and perhaps someone who saw you in a bathing suit. But even your bathing suits were probably not skimpy enough to show off the single-line Rooster that was going to be adorning your skin near the left side of your pelvic bone, between your pussy and hip.

"We're almost done," Caleb promised as you drank. "You got five more minutes in you?"

"Yes," you managed to say, watching him wash his hands and grab a new pair of gloves. "It'll be worth it for the surprise wedding gift."

With a laugh, Caleb adjusted your leggings and got to work once more. "I'm pretty sure Bradley is going to freak the fuck out when he sees it. No joke, I would lose my mind if Jess ever did anything like this."

"That's what I'm counting on," you groaned through clenched teeth. You tried to take deep breaths and pretend you were at the beach, taking Tramp for a walk as the needle made you want to cry.

"Nearly done," Caleb mumbled, and now you were biting your finger to keep yourself still. You were panting by the time he finished and wiped you clean one final time. "Here, check it out with the mirror. Looks pretty cool."

You propped yourself up on one elbow and took the mirror from him. You gasped softly as you examined yourself. "I love it! It's perfect! Tiny and cute and just perfect!"

While Caleb taped plastic wrap over the rooster to cover it while it heals, you argued with him over payment.

"It's on the house," he insisted.

"That ridiculous! How much would you normally charge?"

He just laughed and said, "It's dainty, and it was your first time, so I'd charge the shop minimum. But you're going to pay nothing and consider it a wedding gift. Congratulations."

"Thanks," you told him with a hug, only feeling slightly bad that he was insisting you skip payment. "But if I come back for another one, I'm paying full price."

"Sure, whatever you say."

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

Bradley was sitting in your car in the driveway. He was already running late, because he missed you so much he could barely function. And because he had stayed in bed too long jerking off to the dirty videos of the two of you. And now your car wouldn't start for him.

"You fucking piece of shit!" he scolded the dashboard. He had moved the seat back as far as it would go, and he could still barely fit. His head was almost touching the roof, and the seatbelt felt like it was smothering him. "I swear this is the smallest car ever made. Can't be safe."

Then he remembered that he promised you he'd treat the car nicely. So through gritted teeth, he gently ran his palm along the steering wheel while he tried one more time to turn the key.

"For some reason she loves you, so will you please be nice to me?"

The car magically started, and he was finally on his way to work. He thought about how much better the Bronco was while he drove, but he didn't dare voice his opinions out loud. It was only Monday, and he needed this thing to be agreeable for at least a few more days.

Bradley knew you were busy. He knew you had spent the entire day Sunday with your parents, but he was still craving even just a phone call from you. He thought about calling you now, but the last thing he wanted to do was be a nuisance this week.

But his phone rang as he pulled into the parking garage, and he scrambled to answer. "Sweetheart!"

"Bradley! I only have a minute," you told him, and he could tell by the amount of background noise that you were already in the conference hall. "Just wanted to check on you and Tramp."

"We're good, Baby Girl. Just miss you."

"Listen, I've got all these dinners and cocktail hours all week, but I'll call you when I can, okay? Text me! I love you!"

Bradley made his way to the classroom and took a seat next to Nat. "How you holding up? I never thought I would see the day when you were a lovesick mess, waiting for your wife to return home."

Bradley grumbled. "Almost wife. And I fucking hate her car. She's so nearly perfect, like literally my ideal woman, but her choice of vehicle honestly makes me question her sanity."

"Of course she's fucking crazy. She's with you."

Being three hours behind you all week made things even more interesting, but when Bradley was fixing himself a bowl of cereal for dinner around 7 on Tuesday, he was surprised to see you were texting him.

I miss you, Roo. We could definitely manage to break this bed together.

Just as he was about to write back and tell you exactly how he'd take care of you and the bed, a few images appeared in the thread. In the first one, you were naked and all wrapped up in the white sheet, your hair a mess and you had that hazy look in your eyes that told him you'd had a few drinks.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as two more images came through. You knew what that ring on your finger did to him. And you decided to tease him anyway.

The picture of you with your left arm covering your hip, slipping your middle finger inside yourself had him unzipping his shorts. The diamond ring sparkled in the light, and your manicured nails against your pussy looked so pretty.

He called you over facetime immediately, looking through the pictures while he fisted himself.

"Roo," you gasped. Your room was dimly lit, but he could tell you were masturbating. You must have just taken these photos before sending them.

"Baby Girl," he groaned, and you whined in response. God, he loved that sound. Loved it when you were a needy, spoiled princess for him.

"Get me off! Talk to me, Bradley, and get me off!" you demanded, tilting the phone so he could see your pleading face before shifting it to show off the rest of your body.

"You have the prettiest little pussy, Sweetheart. Yes, use your fingers, just like that. Nice and slow. Add a second one to fill you up."

You were moaning louder now, swiping your clit with your thumb.

"Show me your face. Look at me," he told you, gripping himself tight as you guided your phone up to your face. He scolded you whenever you let your eyes drift closed, demanding you look at him while you came.

"Bradley," you gasped, your head tipping back, but your eyes stayed on his as you made all the little noises that he would forever associate with pure sexual bliss.

"Good girl," he told you as you rode your fingers to completion. After a few more pumps of his fist, he had made a bit of a mess in the kitchen for himself to clean up.

You bit your lip and sighed softly. "I miss you. When I get home, can we make another video together where you call me your dirty little slut?"

He just grunted in agreement. "Anytime you want, Sweetheart."

Bradley let you start to doze off as he talked to you, only telling you to hang up and charge your phone before you fell asleep completely.

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

Every lecture you attended was fascinating. Every cocktail hour was a great chance to network. And every dinner with your team brought everyone closer together. But you were getting tired of socializing. All you really wanted was to be home with Bradley, eating dinner on his lap and listening to his playlists.

"Everyone ready for tomorrow afternoon?" Bickel asked on Wednesday evening during dinner just off base. "We've got lecture hall 7 starting at 10:00, so we should have plenty of time to run equipment tests."

"Ready," you promised him as the others agreed. You weren't nervous at all, just excited to share your work. The thing you were most worried about was how itchy your tattoo felt now. It was covered up and healing, but you couldn't imagine giving an hour long lecture in your polyester uniform pants successfully at the moment.

At least you had managed to keep it covered with your arm while you and Bradley had your facetime call last night.

You smirked and excused yourself to use the restroom, running your palms over your dress as you wound your way through the restaurant. When your fingers touched your tattoo through the fabric, you actually giggled. You had decided you'd let Bradley find it on his own when you got home on Saturday afternoon. You'd be exhausted from your week by that point, but you still couldn't wait to see what he thought about it.

You were excited for tomorrow's presentation. And on Friday night you'd be out with the Admirals. The Admirals!

You finally turned the last corner, but you weren't looking where you stepped. It was too late as you felt yourself collide with a man, and then you heard a familiar voice as he said your name.

His hands came to rest on your arms, steadying you as you felt a cold, horrible feeling wash through your body.

It was Josh. It was Josh, and he was touching your bare skin, and his face was next to yours.

"Oh, my god," you gasped, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Shit, it is you," he whispered, finally letting go of you as you wrenched yourself away.

You stood just staring at each other as you inched slowly away. Some remote part of your brain recognized that you were safe, you were surrounded by people walking to and from the restrooms. You didn't need Bradley or Jake or Bob. But you still felt clammy and uncomfortable.

"Didn't expect to see you in Annapolis," Josh drawled with a thoroughly disinterested look on his face. "You here to get me kicked off of another base? Get me demoted again?"

"Josh," you whispered, gathering your thoughts. "I'm here to give a presentation."

"I know. I saw your name on the keynote list. I should have been part of that project."

You scoffed. "You should have kept your hands to yourself. And I was never going to choose you, I was always going to keep Sonya."

He laughed bitterly. "Okay, now that much I do not believe. You can say what you want, but I'm not blameless here. You gonna get your huge boyfriend to hit me again, just for fun?"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Fiancé now, actually."

Josh's gaze dipped down to your hand, but you didn't make the ring any easier for him to see. You didn't even want him looking at it. It was yours.

Then your mind wrapped around his words. "What do you mean? Hit you again?"

"Is he here?" Josh asked, glancing behind you.

"No, he's in San Diego, but if I call him, he'll be on the next flight. What do you mean by hit you again?"

Josh shook his head slowly, and you could see in his eyes how much he hated you now. A chill went through your body, but you didn't move an inch.

"You were there that night, at the bar. I assumed you sent him over to head me off. Him and that blond guy, too."

Your eyes went wider as you pictured Bradley and Jake hauling Josh out the doors of the Hard Deck. Your face must have given you away.

"So you didn't know he punched me in the face then?"

"No," you whispered. Now you were angry at Bradley and Jake, but you were even angrier at Josh for making you remember with vivid clarity the way he had touched you, all while he was standing right in front of you.

"He broke my nose and my ribs. I thought about calling the police. Getting him arrested."

A bitter laugh escaped you as someone nudged past you to get to the ladies' room. "Really? What stopped you? The fact that I would have reciprocated by turning you in for physical and sexual assault? You've got a lot of nerve even talking to me right now, so let's wrap this up. Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?"

Josh eyed you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your chest for a few seconds before he shook his head. "Just that you weren't worth it. You seemed so fucking easy too. I'd hate to be engaged to you, the way you flirt with other guys like some kind of skank."

"Get the fuck away from me," you said, hating the way your voice shook. "Chelsea told me you did that shit all the time, and I was never even interested in you. You're a pig."

As he got himself in your personal space, you just wanted Bradley. But you forced yourself to hold your ground.

"And you're a bitch," he snapped next to your ear.

You sucked in a breath and swallowed hard as he strode away from you as you muttered, "Fuck you."

When he was out of sight you ducked into the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. You hated the fact that he could get you so rattled. And you were steaming mad that apparently Bradley and Jake had pulled Josh aside, and everybody neglected to tell you about it.

You needed to get a cab back to your room so you could be alone and call the one person who would tell you the truth.

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

Everyone was obsessed with his home gym. It really seemed like the silliest thing for his friends to be envious about, especially since Bradley was always inviting them over to use it. He filled up a huge jug of water and grabbed his speaker before taking Tramp out back with him and heading toward the garage where everyone was already gathered.

"Holy hell," Nat muttered. "No wonder he's out here working out all the time. Look at this one!"

Bradley found Nat, Bob and Jake all huddled around the calendar where it hung on the wall, flipping through the pages.

"That's so pretty. I love how the photographer used the negative space to make a statement," Bob said.

Jake laughed. "I think you're supposed to be noticing her legs."

Bob stuttered. "Well, I...I just would never look at her that way. So let's be respectful."

Nat shrugged. "I am respectfully saying that I can understand why Rooster is so pussy whipped. Look at this!" She was pointing to the November photo with you in black lace, garters and stocking, and Jake let out a low whistle.

"Will you please stop looking?!" Bradley scolded, and Nat let go of the calendar like it had burned her.

"We weren't being crude," she replied with a smirk, but Bradley growled and carefully unclipped the calendar from the wall.

"August is my personal favorite," Jake commented, and of course that was the one Bradley liked because your tit was out.

He eyed them all up. Nat and Jake were both still smirking, and Bob was beat red and looked like he wanted to disappear. "I know she's sexy. I know it's a marvel that I'm with her. I know I am pussy whipped. I know, okay?"

"Just as long as you know," Nat said with a laugh.

Bradley tucked his calendar carefully into a plastic tub of photos from the storage unit before turning on a playlist. "You've all seen more than enough of my future wife. Let's start this damn workout."

Without another word, everyone grabbed some weights and got to work. Bradley was lifting while Bob spotted for him when he heard Jake's phone ring.

"Angel, how are you?" Jake drawled, and Bradley quickly set his barbell in the holder and popped up.

"What's wrong? Did she try to call me?" Bradley asked, walking over to his phone. Nothing.

"Whoa, whoa! Angel, calm down! That's not even what happened!" Jake was getting louder and pacing around.

"What's going on?" Bradley demanded, and he was answered by a hand held up in his face.

Now Bob and Nat were looking concerned as well.

Jake's eyes went wide and darted toward Bradley's, panic stricken. "You saw Josh tonight? In Annapolis?"

"Give me the phone!" Bradley thundered.

Jake just held his hand up again. "Angel, you know how I always have your back? I have Rooster's back too, I promise. Everything was under control that night at the Hard Deck."

"Now!" Bradley added, ready to take it away from Jake.

"He's about to rip my phone out of my hand, so I'm going to give it to him, okay?"

Bradley reached for the phone and juggled it until he had it to his ear. "What is going on?"

"Bradley! I can't believe you punched Josh and never told me! You and Jake both!" you shouted into the phone.

"You saw him tonight?! Where are you?" he shouted back.

"Are you going to tell me what happened when you hit him?" Your voice was near hysterics now, and Bradley knew he needed to calm himself down. He paced the length of the garage while three sets of eyes watched his every movement.

He readjusted Jake's phone against his ear and took a deep breath. "Sweetheart. I need you to tell me where you are and if you're okay."

"I'm in my room! I'm fine!"

Bradley found it was easier to breathe now. "And where did you see Josh? Does he know where your room is?" Bradley was not above calling your parents and telling them what was going on, since they were only an hour away from Annapolis. In fact his free hand was twitching to text them, and buy a ticket to Maryland himself.

"I saw him at dinner. He does not know where my room is. Now tell me why you risked assault charges to punch someone who doesn't fucking matter, Bradley!"

Jake took a step closer, asking, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

Bradley sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Can I put you on speaker, Baby Girl? Nat and Bob are here as well."

"Oh my God! Nat and Bob know about it, too? Am I the only one who doesn't know about this?! Should I call Mav and Penny and ask them?"

Bradley tossed his head back and gestured toward the garage door before he disappeared out into the evening air. He paced down the driveway as he said, "There's nothing to tell, Sweetheart."

You scoffed through the phone. "He said you broke his nose and his ribs, Bradley! Why would you do that? He doesn't matter at all."

"For you!" Bradley growled. "What other reason would I have to do anything except for you?"

"He could have hurt you! He could have called the police!" you wailed. "You could have been in serious trouble."

Bradley's blood was pulsing through his body, and he really wanted to punch out a window when he walked past your car. "He doesn't get to touch you without consequences. That's the bottom line."

"But what about you? You think you're not just as important to me?"

Bradley paced back up the driveway, running his fingers through his hair. "I understand what you're saying, my love. But roughing him up outside the Hard Deck was just a warning. I wasn't going to do too much damage. Even though I really fucking wanted to."

The exasperated noise you made had him almost on his knees. "And what if you got arrested?"

Bradley leaned against your car. "Then you bail me out. I added you to all my bank accounts already. You can use it for that."

"I'm not joking right now, Bradley."

"Neither am I! I'm not joking about the fact that all my money is yours. I'm not joking about the fact that I would fund my own bail money to defend you a million times over. And I'm not joking about the fact that I would have done a lot worse to Josh if left unchecked. So if you want to be mad at someone, you can continue to be mad at me, but I promise you that Jake was there the whole time. And he would have pulled me off of him if necessary. That's the kind of shit that Jake and I would do for each other."

Now you were actively crying, and Bradley didn't know what to say. He realized there was probably nothing that would make you feel better at this moment, so he went ahead and added, "I'm not going to apologize for what I did. And I don't feel bad about it. And I fucking hate that you saw that prick tonight. This is supposed to be your special week that you worked so hard for!"

He wasn't helping anything at the moment, but he couldn't stop himself as he punched the top of your car. "Baby Girl, I love you, and it's my job to protect you. Please try to understand where I'm coming from here."

You sniffed hard before saying, "Please let me talk to Jake."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh and headed back into the garage. "Okay. Here's Jake."

Bradley watched him take back his phone and head outside. "Angel, I promise you that I was with him the whole time......."

Every cell in his body wanted to know what you and Jake were talking about, but Bradley forced himself to sit down on the weight bench instead.

"Here, use this for a bit," Bob said, handing a twenty pound dumbbell to him. "Keep your mind occupied."

"She's probably just upset that she ran into Josh, and everyone else seems to know you got physical with him except for her," Nat told Bradley, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "She just needs to blow off some steam to Jake, so let him take care of it. In the meantime, I'm going to order some pizzas."

Bradley let Bob count his reps while he listened to Nat order one pizza with pepperoni and one with mushrooms. He suddenly just missed you so much. He should have taken a few days off and joined you in Annapolis to attend your lecture. He'd love to see the look on Josh's face if he tried to talk to you with Bradley standing behind you.

When Jake finally came back into the garage, tucking his phone into his pocket, he just sighed and stared at Bradley for a moment.

"Well? What did you talk about?" Bradley rasped, handing the dumbbell back to Bob.

Jake just kind of shrugged. "A lot of it was personal, so I'm not going to tell you, but I explained to her very calmly that she needs to get over it. I told her that I am completely taking your side this time, and that it was important for you to assert your dominance in this particular scenario."

Bradley grunted and stood, pulling Jake into a brief hug. "She likes you. She'll listen to you."

Jake nodded. "I told her to take an hour to think about things from your point of view and calm down. Then she's allowed to call you back, but she needs to be done being upset."

Bradley gaped at Jake, and a startled laugh escaped him. "And she's going to actually do that?"

"She better, or I told her I will be very disappointed in her."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, so impressed by Jake Seresin that he wasn't sure what had become of his life.

"Pizza's here. Let's go inside," Nat said, guiding everyone toward the house.

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

Jake was probably right. You were in shock from seeing Josh again, and you needed to think through what happened at the Hard Deck before you talked to Bradley again. You had stripped off all of your clothes, too hot and uncomfortable, before flopping down on the bed.

Thankfully Jake had taken the time to walk you through everything. He told you that Josh looked like he was going to try to approach you, but there was no way Bradley, Jake or anyone else in that bar would allow that to happen. Jake also promised you that Bradley was very calm the entire time, and the only reason he hit Josh was because he started bad mouthing you.

And especially based on what Josh said to you at the restaurant, you tended to believe Jake. The man had the nerve to call you a skank! As if you had done anything to wrong Bradley!

Oh Bradley. You had yelled at him on the phone. And he'd been the one to keep this information from you for months to try to spare your feelings. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. And really, maybe Josh deserved that broken nose and the broken ribs.

Okay, now you were thinking about Bradley fighting for your honor, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through your body. You ran your fingers along your healing tattoo and you reached for your phone.

After one ring, you heard Bradley's voice. "Sweetheart."

You let his raspy voice wash over you. He was always going to keep you safe. "I love you, Roo. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was so flustered from tonight and then I was embarrassed. And you know you could have told me you hit him, right? I'm not fragile, Bradley."

"Oh, Baby Girl. You're not. You're so strong. I just didn't want you to have to keep dealing with this shit when I was more than happy to take over for you. You do the same thing for me sometimes. Like when you make fancy dinners for Goose and Carole just when I'm on the brink of collapse, because I don't think there's a good way to keep their memory alive."

"Okay. That makes sense." Jake was right. You just needed to take some time to think about things. "It's like sharing the burden with someone who can help in a different way."

"Yes," he replied, and you could tell he was smiling. "Exactly like that. And also, fuck you Jake," Bradley said, his voice raised so that you could tell he was yelling through the house.

You started laughing along with Bradley. "Don't get upset with Jake. He's kind of sweet, actually. He helped me process this."

"I love you, Baby Girl. But it's so late there, and you have a big day tomorrow. Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath as you sat up in the tiny bed. Your eyes dipped again to your tattoo. "Yeah, I'm okay, Roo. Thanks for always trying to protect me."

"Will you call me as soon as you can tomorrow? I want to hear everything about your presentation."

"I will."

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

Ugh, Josh..... she needs to finish up in Annapolis and get home. At least the tattoo is complete!

PART 9

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader

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writingoddess1125 · 10 months

Text

Soo I wanted to imput my own culture on this one!

COD Men + König Dating a Jamaican Women

König

• You and König had been together for quite a while. Spending most of your guys relationship in Europe and in his home country.

• But when you make to offer of having him meet your family he is more then happy to accept!

• He didn't expect to take a plane to the tropicals however- Ending up in such a touristy area at first. Till you lead him off the beaten bath to a much more rural area to introduce him to your family.

• They are a but surprised at first, seeing such a large man. However accept him with open arms- Your Mummy especially.

• You handed your mother her drink, watching her as she looked at the new member of the family who was seated playing cards with your cousin- The shorts She'd bought clearly being a size too small to fit him comforbly.

• It was like she got the son she wanted the most- Immediately having him change into more comforble clothes. Fed him, and forced you to walk him around the prettiest parts of town.

• "Why does it feel like my Mum likes you more then me!?"

• Konig could only laugh at this and shyly disagree.

• However after your Mum took him shopping since she felt like he didn't have the proper clothes he couldn't disagree further.

• He absolutely adores the beaches of your home and spends so much time swimming he gets a golden tan in a short amount of time.

• "Gonna need to order some better shorts" You mumbled- not wanting him to have a wardrobe malfunction while around your family. Your mother laughing at this and patting your hip- "Wen yuh climb tall trees yuh get langggg branches-"

• "MUMMY!"

Gaz

• You decided that it was time for Gaz to meet your family, wanting to take that extra step together.

• They are so excited to meet him they start chattering away immediately- However Gaz figures out very quickly...

• He is more then thrilled. Having wanted to take that next step with you for quite a while- So when the plan arrived at your home he was so happy to see your family there to meet you and him there.

• He doesn't know what the fuck they are saying-

• They had accidently assumed he knew Patwah and were corrected by you quickly. Since they assumed he was Jamaican like you-

• "Wait it's not just an accent?" Gaz asks softly to you, Which leads to you explaining that it's a Creole language called Patwah.

• Your Aunty however seemed to take the liking to Kyle the most. Seeing him as great husband potential for you- As well as dropping 'hints' about a wedding. Which was amusing since she had the thickest of accents out of your entire family.

• "Kyle lov, Wi wud waan (Y/N) married yah inna di yard. A nuh eh ah luk gud place tuh marry an av babies?" (Kyle Love, we would want married here at home. Isn't it a pretty place to marry and have babies? )

• Gaz didn't know what she said per say- But he did year the word Married and Babies.

• He does have a blast however, going out dancing with you, drinking with your family and having a grand time- But most was being fed near constantly.

• "Nyam up Maaga bwoy" (eat up skinny boy)

• Gaz was satted there in the kitchen of your family home, Staring as your Aunty adds another massive scoop of Rice and Peas to his growing plate. Filled delicious foods he could only dream of back home.

• It seemed like there was no escape from this pleasurable hell- and he couldn't be happier

• Gaz nodded obediently as he took up more rice on his fork and continued to eat. You trying to tell your aunty to not force feed your boyfriend.

Soap

• You bring up wanting Johnny to meet your family after officially meeting his- Seeing how it would be fair and should be a fun experience.

• Seems he found his people-

• Of course he is more then willing! Seeing it as a fun get away as well-

• When he arrives his naturally cheery personality wins over your family quickly. Ends up having a blast with them the first day and eats so much he almost gets suck.

• There is a mild language barrier- However it was overcome rather quickly.

• Your cousin seemed to absolutely ADORE Johnny. Taking the two of you out to clubs and different bars around the area.

• "We should buy a place out here- for times like this" He said, Leaning against you as the two of you walk back to your families house.

• Finds out quickly that it's relatively cheap in parts and having his nice military paychecks went a lloonnggg way here.

• Adsolutely loves the drinks. The Ginger beer, the Red Strike, Sorrel.

• Adores them honestly!

• This man has met other half it seems as bottles seem to rain around him.

• "Yu Drunk?" Your cousin calls out to Johnny who is dancing against you with a bright smile on his face.

• "A'm Blootert!" He shouts. His accent so strong its funny-

• Johnny ends up so drunk, he's locked arms with your cousin, seated under the romada singing some imaginary song they had made up together.

Ghost

• You take the opportunity to get your hair braided as well- seeing how for once you don't have to pay an arm and a leg for it.

• It takes a lot of convincing on your part to get Simon to come meet your family. You'd been dating more then long enough and he finally agrees one day-

• However he still wears some form of mask- in his case a skull face mask that is still breathable while keeping him covered.

• Your family was a bit apprehensive of Simon of first- surprised by such a brooding figure you'd dragged with you.

• That was till your father stepped forward and welcomed Simon with open arms. Which lead to the rest of the family also being warm and welcoming-

• Simon accepts this and goes along with the kind greetings from everyone.

• Simon tags along, which surprises you. Ends up asking the hair dresser questions constantly.

• "Wah mek yu deh ask suh much?" Your hairdresser staps a bit-

• "I want to learn how- do I can help her do her hair or our future children's" He says bluntly and truthfully.

• Wins over the whole Salon just like that.

• He has never met a group so God damn stubborn then your family- He can refuse all he wants but ends up being given or dragged some place.

• Getting a step by step on how to do different braids by the nice women at the Salon who baby him- even buying him lunch too.

• The soilder taking the day with your father. The two just enjoying the day together- Simon even smoking with him a little which made him relax more then he expected (You weren't there to tell him-)

• Didn't want a drink- Now has 4 he has finished. Refused an addional plate of food?- He had 3 more and some fruit.

• The only person who wasn't pushy was your father. Who was as stoic and laid back as Simon.

• Simon enjoyed the relaxing time with your Father- The two sitting on the front patio with their drinks sipping away as they occasionally chatted.

• This day being the same, When Simon got up prepared to be dragged to a other fun active place. But instead your father waving him over to sit with him.

• Looking to you as you just nod for him to go do as he pleased-

Price

• By the time you came back, Both men were actually chuckling at some sort of joke together. That night you looking to Simon who laid in bed with you shocked-

• "My Dad actually likes you-" You say in disbelief. Simon only nodding and smiling at your words.

• By the next morning he is as red as a Tomato and sunburned to high hell.

• John is willing to meet your family. Finding it would he a nice holiday and fun overall since he hadn't been to the Caribbeans since he was first in the military.

• When arriving he did notice some stares, since he was so clearly military and learned the distrust was real.

• But your family was open to him in extending that olive branch to him.

• Your uncle however- took some convincing. Which ended up getting John hazed of sorts.

• "Mek wi si wah yu gat Brit-" Your uncle Said with a grin. John of course accepting a challenge. From drinking, Dancing and more. Which ended up with the two shit talking each other-

• By the end of the night John and your Uncle were as thick as thieves.

• John even proud of the hand rolled cigarettes your uncle had given him.

• "Don't take his cigarettes-" You say calmly. Taking the homemade rolled cigarette from your boyfriend and handing him a packed one instead.

• While you were with some of your cousins catching up John sat out on a chair with your Uncles and cousins. The group smoking cigars and cigarettes and chatting away.

• Seemed time was lost on the both of you as John sat out in the sun far too long. Ignoring the reddening of his skin-

• Your poor Boyfriend tho-

• "Fuck-k" John mutters, wincing as he sits down with his arms held out. Your uncle laughing at him-

• You spend the evening rubbing Aloe in his skin and fanning his skin to help ease the burn.

• "Burned noice an criss Hm?" Your uncle said with a laugh making John give a fake glare at the old man.

• "Ah fuck ya you old geezer-" John winced out making the men around him laugh hard at his suffering.

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whore4brielle · 2 months

Text

BIRTHDAY SEX🎉

Toji fushiguro.

Writing this cause it’s my birthday + I need toji rn actually he should be celebrating with me…. (In bed ofc)

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TOJI always made sure to spoil you on your birthday, it meant being one year older for you. He wasn’t getting any older but you were 20 now. It was like a new beginning or a new mark something like that…

“goodmorning, happy birthday” the faint sound of the quiet voice, you just laid in the bed with your back turnt to the man most dearest to you. Your eyes shifted has you turned around smiling at him.

After work TOJI always managed to take you to your favorite stores, most birthdays his youngest kid megumi would tag along and go shopping with the two of you but today megumi was sick with a summer cold, which meant it would just be you and toji shopping around for your 20th birthday.

When TOJI saw a lingerie store catch your attention he wasn’t shocked but just a bit surprised, you never wore lingerie or brought it so maybe it really was his lucky day.

After a long day of shopping you were totally exhausted. When you got home, you wanted to relax and have a nice bath but TOJI insisted on you trying on some of the lingerie you brought.

“Come on it will be fun” he says has you roll your eyes at his stubbornness. You were now in your bedroom bathroom, the various lingerie you picked out on display for you to see. You decided to choose a black lingerie to wear. It fit your shape perfectly and TOJI adores the silk color of black on you.

“You look lovely doll” TOJI whispers in your ear has you were now seated on his lap as he sits on the fresh sheets of your shared bedroom.

You could feel his growing erection through his pants has you sit on him. “Really? How lovely do I look toji” you pull the loose fabric of your lingerie down revealing your chest area.

Toji gives in quickly has he licks the sensitive bud of your left nipple, then he moves over and does the same to your right nipple extremely slow has he looks up at you. “Toji please.. faster” you say. Has he smacks your ass making you moan quietly out loud continuing he licks your bud then you feel his hand move down more near your bottom area. The lingerie still attached to your pretty cunt. The man slides the flimsy fabric over with his hand massaging your clit. you whisper his name has he continues to massage your clit working on your folds now. You were wet. You started to grind on his fingers has he started to let you do all the work adjusting his fingers near a sensitive area. Then he sticks them inside making you gasp.

He finds your sweet spot immediately. It was only a few minutes after until he had you moaning his name already just from his fingers. You started to grind faster on his fingers has your orgasm took over.

Now you were sprawled out on your own bed. TOJI had to get his own pleasure but before that he would eat your cunt, it was your special day after all and even though your orgasm just hit you, you could take all of it again. If it meant getting your pussy ate you would definitely enjoy the show.

“You ready doll” he didn’t even let you respond knowing you would say yes. He immediately went down on you. He removed his pants after one lick of your cunt. Jerking himself off while his tongue plays in you. You looked down at the sight upon you immediately moaning. Your voice got louder and higher has toji ate you out faster. He made sure to smack your ass and pin you down removing his hands from himself to hold your waist has you tried to sit up and squirm. Your orgasm approaching you again. You cursed under your breath has the man continued to hold you. Hands bigger than yours.

Now it was time for TOJI to fuck you and you couldn’t end your birthday any better, you would just have to save your slice of birthday cake for tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure you and toji will spend the day together again tomorrow has a belated birthday gift.

He started to stroke himself infront of you has you moaned your way through all of it. You wanted to touch yourself but toji wouldn’t let you.

You wanted him to insert himself inside of you. And after he was finished stroking himself a little more he did. You learned patience with toji he made you take it even when your whole body felt like going numb. That feeling would probably overtake you after this.

TOJI made himself fit inside of you and soon he was fucking you just the way you liked, speeding up his pace.

“You can take it doll” praises left his mouth has he slipped in and out of you at a slow pace. “It’ll fit I’ll make it” and soon your cumming on his cock and he’s tossing you into any position he pleases until you both get tired of it.

The next day you were sore, but a bath fixed it. And TOJI joining you in the bath was excellent.

“Yesterday was so much fun” you say laying back into his chest enjoying his scent.

“We’ll make sure to do this every birthday from now on doll.”🩶

✄ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin

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slothquisitor · 3 months

Text

What Moves in the Dark: Chapter Eighteen

A post-campaign Baldur’s Gate 3 eldritch horror AU.

Chapter summary: The group returns to Ramazith's Tower to celebrate their victory. Here there be smut. If that's not your cup of tea, I support you. Simply stop reading at the break when it switches to Astarion's POV. <3

Read from the beginning.

Also on AO3.

__________________________________________________________

“We were able to pinpoint where the uvuudaum was because my brother infected himself with tainted blood, there’s another entrance a few blocks away,” Liv replies. She feels as though she’s been repeating herself for the last two hours as she and all of the rest of their companions are questioned relentlessly by members of the Watch and Flaming Fist who have swarmed the Caldwell estate.

There seems to be some question of jurisdiction, and the murder of Lord Wyllyck is only complicating things. Her brother and Astarion have had the longest and most intense interrogations. Having Investigator Devella able to corroborate much of their story is not nearly as helpful as Liv would have believed. The fact that their group as well as all the uvuudaum’s victims have emerged from a hidden door in a drawing room covered in blood is probably not helping their case for early release. In fairness, she, Gale, and Roland had done their best to prestidigitate the worst of the blood away, but they’re all still a mess. She needs a nap and bath, and she’s tired enough to not be picky about the order.

“And where was this entrance?” The Fist asks.

“I already gave that information to your colleague. It’s in the retaining wall behind two houses on Turl Street.”

The questions continue like that for a while, but finally, the Fist turns on his heel and strides away without another word, and Liv stays in her seat, fighting her exhaustion. Kharis is free too, the Watch member interviewing him has stepped away, so he walks over and sits down.

“Are you alright?” he asks. He’s dressed for travel, gray cloak still about his shoulders. He’s trimmed his red beard some too. His husband, Wynn will be pleased.

She’s a little bruised and trying desperately not to think about everything she saw when she closed the portal, but she’s also exhilarated. “Yes, I am. Thank you for showing up. I had gotten worried when I wasn’t hearing from you.”

He sighs, leaning back in the chair as she’s seen him do so many times in the workroom. “That sort of magic doesn’t come easily to me. We didn’t have much information. When I showed up at Candlekeep with the tainted blood in tow, we immediately began analyzing it, but finding anything concrete…we had theories. Nothing helpful. Until your last message.”

“Oh?”

“You talked about a host…how it could all communicate…and then how it took someone. Of all the possibilities we were entertaining, an uvuudaum was the only creature that fit. Your brother got the spell written down, and because you cannot teleport inside Candlekeep we had to run outside the enchantment. Roland and I didn’t want to waste time or magic to tell you that we were on the way.”

She remembers reading about that once. That there is no teleportation near Candlekeep. She wonders how far they had to run, and smiles a bit at the image of her brother and Kharis sprinting away from the library city. “I’m just glad you’re alright and grateful you came to help.”

He nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t go to get help sooner, but it seems like you managed to gather some powerful allies without me.”

“They all showed up to save Astarion,” she said. “The vampire you kicked out of our shop.”

Kharis laughs. “Yeah, I see that my religious convictions had no effect on your befriending him. But…it seems like it’s a bit more than that, isn’t it?” He doesn’t sound mad, mostly exasperated.

“A bit more than that,” she agrees. “But I think all these people showing up to save him should speak volumes about his character.”

“I don’t give a fuck what they think, but if you say he’s a good man, that’s enough for me.”

“Really?”

“If this whole saga has taught me anything, it’s that between the two of us, yours is perhaps the better judgment of character and danger and probably everything else too. I’m an old mercenary, Liv. I’ve spent far too much of my life distrusting everyone around me. I opened that shop to do some good, and you reminded me of that,” Kharis says.

Astarion strides over to them and sighs. “Well, I do believe we have waded through enough of the bureaucratic red tape to finally be allowed to leave.”

“Finally,” Liv replies.

Astarion glances rather expectantly between her and Kharis, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kharis simply stands. “I have a husband to surprise, and I’d very much like to not see you working for at least the next three days.” Then he glances to Astarion. “Can you help me force her to rest?”

Astarion grins wickedly. “Well, I can certainly keep her from working, but rest isn’t something I can promise.”

She rubs her eyes. “I promise to rest, maybe even sleep for the next three days?”

“Good enough.” And then Kharis picks up his axe leaning by the door and leaves.

“He didn’t threaten me this time, so I feel like that went well,” Astarion grins.

“It certainly went a way…well isn’t how I’d describe it,” she says, more amused than annoyed.

He extends a hand to her. “Come on, we’re all going to Ramazith’s Tower.”

She takes his hand. “All of us? My brothers too?”

“It seemed rude not to invite them.”

She sighs. “I suppose I do have to talk to them at some point, don’t I?”

As they leave the Caldwell Estate, it is nearly dawn in Baldur’s Gate. Their group is loud in the streets. Shadowheart and Veska are telling Jaheira all about the menagerie of animals they have at their cottage, while Minsc boasts to Gale all about his recent adventures with the Guild and helping rebuild the city. Her brothers hang close, but they’re not exactly joining the chatter. She knows she needs to talk to them, to both of them, but she’s not sure what to say. Especially to Percy.

Astarion has noticed her attention snag on them, and he gives her hand a squeeze. “Go on, far easier to fireball them out here than in the tower.”

He’s not wrong, but she’s hopeful that the conversation won’t go that poorly. She drifts their way, in the chaos earlier, she hadn’t been able to properly catalog the passage of time, of all the ways her brother has changed. Roland looks different, older. His hair is longer than she’s ever seen it and he has the faintest hint of a beard, but there’s a lightness to him she doesn’t remember. Candlekeep has been good to him. He and Percy look rather at ease with each other, and she realizes that he must have known about Percy’s true loyalties. It stings a little, but she’s too tired to be angry about it.

“You feeling alright?” she asks Percy. Astarion had confirmed that the tainted blood was all gone, but there’s a part of her that worried that it couldn’t be that simple, that even with the uvuudaum banished there might be some lingering effects.

Percy smirks. “Is that concern I hear?”

“Well, I did kill you,” Liv shrugs.

Roland looks between them both. “You did what?”

“It was a spell,” Liv explains.

Roland shakes his head in exasperation. “Oh, and that makes it fine?”

“She had my permission,” Percy replies.

“We’re certainly not short on drama in this family, are we?”

It’s less awkward than she imagined, talking with them. Though she still feels like she’s still on the outside of something, not quite part of their ease with each other. She glances at Percy. “I owe you an apology.”

Percy shakes his head. “You don’t. You saw exactly what I wanted you to see. If anyone owes an apology, it’s me.”

“I’ve been telling him to just go talk to you for the last six months,” Roland says.

“You two were in contact that much?” She hates the way her voice sounds so small. So Roland would talk to Percy, but not return her letters?

Roland looks uncomfortable but nods. “Here and there. He contacted when you left home.”

“I was so damn proud of you, I had to tell someone,” Percy says, voice quiet.

She is so surprised she doesn’t know what to say. He’d been proud of her? For leaving?

“I hadn’t heard from him in years and suddenly there’s his voice in my ear telling me all about you,” Roland says with a smile laced with apology. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say, how to reach back out to you…and then Kharis shows up at Candlekeep. He sought me out immediately, and said he knew I was there because of you. It seemed like a good enough opening, but I had hoped to show up with answers rather than arriving to chaos…”

And it still hurts, but they’d both shown up when it mattered, and she’s not sure if she’s ever had anyone show up for her like that. Certainly not her own family. And it doesn’t fix the years or the distance or the pain, but maybe this can be a start. “Thank you both, for everything.”

There’s plenty going unsaid between her and Percy, but she thinks Astarion might have been right. He had infected himself, helped with all of this because he wanted to show her that he did care. She’d been wrong, and even though they’re almost strangers to each other, maybe they won’t always be.

Roland straightens his robes and leans down conspiratorially. “So, am I going to be given a proper introduction to all these important people, or will I simply have to guess who they are from the stories?”

She laughs. “You did show up in the heat of battle, I don’t think anyone was very concerned with introductions.”

But she and Percy point everyone out, telling him names and stories. She surprises herself by laughing and joking with them. Time is a funny thing, it can feel so very long, and yet so short. Talking with them she is thrust back in time, to one of the good days. Every memory with her siblings isn’t brimming with pain, there were good times too. She just wishes Brelia was here to see this moment.

Ramazith’s tower rises before them, the tallest levels catching the first rays of sunlight peeking over Dusthawk Hill. Their group hurries inside as if they are all as sensitive to the sun as Astarion is.

Rolan, Cal, and Lia are still gathered in the large sitting area. Lia looks like she had dozed off at some point, while Cal and Rolan seemed to be playing a game of lanceboard to keep themselves awake.

“Astarion!” All three siblings are on their feet and hurrying over to him.

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” Lia says around a yawn.

Cal pat his arm. “We kept telling her you’d be fine.”

Astarion keeps his chin up, his tone nonchalant. “Oh come now, I’m always fine. Takes a hells of a lot more than that to keep me down.” And he’s playing it off, but it’s clear he’s touched in the same way he was when he realized his friends had come to rescue him. He might never say it, but she’s pretty sure that the siblings catch the undercurrent of gratitude anyway.

Rolan brings out drinks and food and everyone in the group collapses somewhere in the sitting area. There is a sort of practiced air to it. All of these people are used to fighting together, used to the aftermath, and in this, there is a sort of ritual. A push and a pull, a checking in on everyone without actually asking how anyone is. It’s fascinating to watch from the relative safety of the sidelines while Gale and Astarion fill the siblings in on the events of the evening.

Eventually, Veska makes her way over, rather tentatively. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“Couldn’t help but notice that…uh…things with your brother were a little strained earlier?” Veska says, keeping her voice low enough not to be overheard. Percy and Roland are talking with Jaheira and Minsc, so there’s little chance of that, but she appreciates her discretion.

“Bit of an understatement,” Liv replies.

“So I’d gathered. I…wanted to apologize if I made it worse, but honestly, I owe Percy a great deal.”

“So I’d gathered,” Liv echoes with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you…there’s just a lot of painful family history we all need to work through. I think we’re making some headway there.”

“I know a little about that,” Veska says raising her glass in solidarity. “Did you know I have a sister?”

“Oh shit.” Liv has known Veska’s family her whole life, but if there’s one thing she’s familiar with, it is the ability of the wealthy and powerful to bury those things they would rather have everyone forget.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time, and there’s a lot about her I thought was true and wasn’t. Shitty parents tend to twist things…I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if I had the opportunity to see my sister again, there’s a lot I’d want to say. Your brothers are here. They showed up for you.”

“They did.” And it means more than she can say. “I’m sure when you see your sister again you’ll get the chance to say everything you’ve wanted to.”

“It’s been a very long time, but hey, we’re both disowned now, so at least we’ll have that in common.” Veska has always been sunny in her disposition, and though they’ve never been close, Liv can see that there’s a confidence and a brightness about her now.

Liv offers her a smile. “It’s not the worst club in the world to be in.”

“I did want to tell you that your leaving gave me the courage to go too.”

Josie had said something to that effect, but Liv hadn’t quite believed it to be true. And it’s hard to believe now. “Really?”

“You’re Liv Fucking Vires. Hard not to be inspired,” Veska says with a wink.

Liv isn’t sure what to say to that, so instead she turns it back around to Veska. “But you’re happy, away from the city?”

Veska’s gaze wanders to Shadowheart. “I am.” And then with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand, she’s gone, meeting Shadowheart at the base of the stairs before they head up to the promised rooms to rest.

Liv glances around at the celebration that is rapidly winding down. It wasn’t so much a party as it was an excuse to eat everything in sight and retell every aspect of the battle piece by piece. But as the sun rises, the exhaustion has begun to set in. Liv feels it too, it makes her limbs heavy. No part of her wants to make her way back to her apartment, so she stays sitting, hoping for energy to find her.

Astarion swoops in then fresh off a murmured conversation with Gale who has gone upstairs now as well. He reclines casually against the arm of the couch rather than joining her fully. He bends down to whisper in her ear. “Stay here with me.”

She twists to look at him, to read his intention. She wants to say yes so badly. “You’re sure?”

He smiles. “Very.”

She catches her brothers’ attention before she goes. “I’ll see you both, soon?”

Percy glances out the window, at the cheery morning sun and looks as tired as she feels. “Let’s do dinner tomorrow. Give us all some time to recover.”

Dinner. With her brothers. That’ll be something new. “Sounds great.” And she means it.

And then she lets Astarion lead her up the stairs and to his room. The magic of the tower still sets her teeth on edge, but it’s not so bad once they’re actually in his room, and it occurs to her that’s probably because the room itself is in a demiplane rather than the actual tower. That certainly explains why there’s no issue with space or unexpected guests here.

“You know, I had intended to invite you here after the party,” Astarion says.

“But best-laid plans and all that?”

He sighs. “Well, we did finally make it, though we are both a mess.” He strides purposefully over to his desk and begins unbuckling his armor.

She knows that the worst of the blood is gone, but she can still feel it lingering like an oily sheen against her skin. “I wouldn’t mind cleaning up before going to bed.”

“Same. The bathing chamber is through there, you can clean up first,” Astarion says pointing towards a darkened doorway that stands ajar, turning away from her. “Unless…”

She turns and he looks rather unsure, so she prompts him, doing her best to sound utterly neutral. “Unless?”

He meets her gaze full on, the silence stretching taut between them. “The tub is big enough for two…if you wouldn’t mind the company.” He seems to be batting the nervousness away by trying to be smooth, but it’s not really working. Still, it is rather endearing.

She recognizes it for the show of trust that it is, so she doesn’t tease. Not about this. “I’d like that.”

She waits while he discards the last of his armor, and then he joins her and together they go into his bathing chamber. It is quite large, and he was right, it does seem that the tub will be big enough for them both.

“Perks of a wizard tower, I’m told,” he says, touching a rune on the side of the tub that immediately fills it with water.

“Or simply having money,” she replies, having grown up with similar accommodations.

“And here I thought I might impress you,” he says, coming to stand in front of her.

“You know that you don’t need to impress me, right? I’m already here, and I don’t have any expectations,” she says. “But I would like to know how much of you I can have right now.”

His eyes widen a bit with the question, before softening as he brings a hand to her shoulder. “I’ve never been with someone like this before…without it leading to more. I’d like to be with you…touch you, but nothing more. Can we simply try that?”

Life has not been kind to Astarion, but still, he reaches for it. Still, he tries. She finds herself perpetually in awe at his commitment to living, to freedom. And she feels rather honored that he feels safe enough to try with her. She cups his cheek and cannot help but smile. “I’m way too tired for anything more than that. I almost cried at the thought of walking home.”

He looks relieved. “Well, glad we’re on the same page then.”

“Have I told you have glad I am you’re okay? I was so worried about you.”

He rests his forehead on hers. “I was worried about me too, and then you came to the rescue like some ethereal knight in shining armor.”

“I heard you liked adventure stories. Though I didn’t quite expect to be living one.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like a few months of relative quiet before the next world-ending threat to solve.”

“Deal.”

His hands skim her waist, clever fingers working at the tie of her shirt, eyes never leaving hers. Each movement is deliberate, slow; she sees the question in his eyes, and she offers him a nod. His hands are cool against her skin, gentle as they trail over her bruised side and shoulder. He doesn’t kiss her as he undresses her, and she wishes she could read his mind, know what he’s thinking. But his crimson gaze is soft, almost full of awe, so she lets him strip her bare, and she doesn’t reach for him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, eyes roving hungrily over her body. She wants to look at him too, so she reaches slowly for his shirt. He catches her hands, head bowing slightly. “I have some scars…a portion of an infernal contract.”

And before she can say anything in response, he turns his back to her and removes his shirt. She understands now that there is something more vulnerable about showing her this than simply being naked together. Unable to tolerate being at a disadvantage, he has stripped her bare before showing her this, putting them on a more even footing. The scar is circular, jagged and cruel. She steps close, places a hand against it gently; his breath catches, so she leans forward and presses a kiss against the raised skin. She can feel the way his shoulders relax at the contact.

She steps around him so that she’s in front of him once again, his eyes are wide with trepidation, so she moves slowly as she cups his cheek. He leans into the touch. “We all carry the scars of our past in one way or another. Neither of us are defined by the choices other people made.”

He rests his forehead against hers. “Touch me again.” The words are a plea, laced with uncertainty as if he is unsure if he can trust them.

Trailing a hand down his neck to his shoulder, she wraps an arm around his lower back and pulls him close. She runs her hands down the smooth expanse of his chest, his skin is soft, smooth as stone. She has always known he is built lithely, all broad shoulders and a graceful waist…but he is also thin…he hasn’t been feeding as often as he ought to. She makes note of it, files it away for later discussion, and keeps running her hands over his skin. He makes a quiet sound as she touches him, and then as if he cannot stop himself his fingers work into her hair, pulling it loose from the bun, the pins dropping to the floor. He presses a kiss against her neck while his fingers tunnel into the hair near her scalp. She shivers at the contact, at the way he smiles against her skin.

“Get in the tub, I’ll join you in a moment.”

She’s letting him set the pace here, tell her what he wants, so she nods and turns her back to him, sliding into the warm water. She immediately feels better, the warmth sinking into sore muscles and banishing the aches from her bruises. Gently rubbing at her arms, she banishes the blood and sweat from her skin, already feeling cleaner even as she dips her head beneath the water.

Astarion joins her then, settling in behind her, a soft brush of fingers along her shoulder before handing her a bar of citrus-smelling soap. Liv is sure that there’s some more sensual way of doing all of this, but she’s tired and desperately wants the blood and sweat of the day washed away, and it’s clear Astarion does too, since he goes about scrubbing his own skin clean without delay.

It is only once they are both finished that he leans back against the side of the tub, and pulls her with him, arms folding on her bare stomach. She melts against him, warm and content. His fingers trace lines down her skin, gentle brushes that feel almost reverent in the sputtering candlelight of the room.

“This is nice,” he whispers.

She closes her eyes and leans more fully into him. “It is.”

The backs of his fingers skate slowly up her arm, brushing against her jaw and neck. She turns her head a little, baring her neck. “You can feed; I don’t mind.”

“You’re injured,” he replies indignantly, but it’s half-hearted enough that she knows she won’t have to do much to convince him.

“I have a few bruises that Shadowheart already tended to. Drink.”

The water splashes a bit as he rearranges them both enough to reach her neck, and she feels the cool press of his lips against her skin. She knows better what to expect now that she’s already done this once. He holds her steady before he bites down, the bright flash of pain fading to numbness quickly. He cradles her rather tenderly as he drinks, and it’s easy to melt into his touch, and soon he pulls away, his tongue laving the excess blood off her skin. She feels a bit light-headed, that’s all.

“Thank you,” he whispers before leaning back again against the edge of the tub, pulling her with him. They stay there for a long while, she knows she is dozing because she keeps coming to find the candles have burned lower. Astarion must have noticed too because she can feel his body shake with a quiet laugh. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He hands her a towel and one of his shirts as they emerge from the bath, skin wrinkled, but clean. She’s grateful for his shirt since it saves her from trying to figure out what of her clothing is salvageable for sleep. He waits for her to braid her hair, and then leads her by the hand to his bed, where they crawl beneath the covers.

She settles against the pillows, getting comfortable, and manages to catch a glimpse of Astarion in the darkness watching her, looking a little lost. And this is probably a first for him too.

“Want to cuddle?” she asks simply, and he nods as he closes the distance.

He rests his head against her chest, his ear placed just over her heart, their legs tangled together. She runs her fingers through his soft curls until sleep overtakes her.

***

Astarion wakes long before Liv, but he doesn’t mind. She was clearly exhausted; he doesn’t want to wake her anyway. The quiet is punctuated by her steady breathing, and he is strangely content. She sleeps on her side, facing away from him, so he gently curls up around her, enjoying the closeness, the novelty of being with someone like this.

She shifts a little as he settles behind her but doesn’t wake. Astarion has never been able to be with someone like this or in the way they were together last night. He’s still pleasantly surprised that he had been naked with someone and it hadn’t led to sex. It was just like she had said: no expectations, no pressure. She had asked how much of him she could have, and he had wanted to tell her everything .

He is rather hopelessly in love with her. He’s pretty sure he’s been in love with her for a while, and he can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but he was finally able to put a name to the feeling last night when she had kissed his scars and told him that he isn’t defined by his past. She’s right, of course, and when she wakes, he’s ready to shake the last of his past away.

Last night had been a testing of the waters, quite literally. He needed to know how he’d feel that close to her, close to her in that way. He had lain awake alone in the darkness, waiting for any sign of disgust or shame, but all he’d wanted was more with a sort of desperate urgency. He had been snatched, locked away, made a prisoner once again, and now he needs, more than anything, to take something back. He wants to be in control of himself, wholly. He wants to try, to be reminded that he is alive and free.

But that all can wait until she wakes, and he will quite happily lay here with her until then. Because there is nothing pressing on their time, nowhere they need to be, no problems to solve. It is rather freeing.

When Liv finally stirs, her hand traces the length of the arm he has banded about her middle, until her fingers can tangle with this. “Morning,” she says, voice deeper with the dregs of sleep still hanging on.

He laughs. “I’m quite positive it is early evening, actually.”

She twists to face him. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be until tomorrow then.”

“For all sorts of reasons,” he says, voice dripping with promise.

“Oh?”

Saying it out loud makes it real, gives her the opportunity to ask him about it, and he’d rather show her. So he closes the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that is neither gentle nor careful. He’s surprised her, he can tell by the soft sound she makes when their lips meet. His tongue dips into her mouth, experimentally, he’s never had the occasion to wake up beside someone and then move to other things, and he’s still half convinced she might stop him. But she doesn’t, her tongue meets his, and her hands run across his chest. He reaches for the bare expanse of her leg, all she wears beyond her underwear is his shirt, and there’s something unbelievably sexy about that. He hooks her leg over his, bringing their hips flush together as she arches against him.

The moan that escapes him as his hardening cock brushes against the warmth of her has nothing to do with performance or seduction, it is compulsory. Desire frantically bolts through him, honest and insistent. He is altogether too aware of everywhere she’s touching him, the way that warmth radiates from her touch like every point of contact is vibrating. He discards his shirt in a fluid movement, eager to feel more of her.

He nips at her lower lip and rolls her back so that she is below him and he can more easily seek the friction he’s desperately craving. He rolls his hips into hers and swallows down the low, hungry sound that emanates from her as their kiss deepens. His hand slips higher up the smooth skin of her stomach, inching the shirt up and revealing more of her skin to him.

She turns her head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down her neck and across her exposed collarbone, but then he feels her push him back, putting distance between them. “Astarion.” His name is laced with a question.

He pulls back enough to see that her green eyes are dark with desire, but her face is pinched with concern. “Is this alright? Is it what you want?”

Because if it isn’t, he knows that it could all stop here, stop at any time and she would be alright with that. He trusts her, feels safe with her, seen in ways he’s not sure he ever has been. “Yes. I…didn’t want to push things before. I didn’t want you to become another one of my regrets, but I could never regret you. I love you.”

He watches the effect of his declaration, the way her eyes widen in surprise before softening, before she touches his cheek, fingers nearly trembling. “You do?”

“I love you,” he says again. He’s said these words to people before, but he’s never meant them. And it does feel different to offer them to her, to watch the way she smiles brilliantly at the words.

“I love you too.” The words are soft, but they hit him with a force that feels as though it could have knocked him clean over. The words seem to course right through him, landing somewhere beneath his sternum, taking up residence there. He feels a light sort of giddiness. He knew she cared, but it is another thing entirely to hear it from her lips.

He cannot help the smile that spans his own face. “I’d like to try…with you.”

“You mean sex?”

“Well, we did cure a blood disease and banish a blood monster back to the Far Realm, so it does seem like the natural next step,” he deadpans.

“Naturally,” she agrees but then grows more serious. “We don’t…”

He cuts her off. “I know. I want to.”

“I do too,” she admits. “Though, do we need to worry about contraception?” Oh, he’s not used to fielding this question, it was never much of a concern before.

“Thankfully, no. Vampire spawn can’t reproduce. We have nothing to worry about in that regard, though…perhaps it would be good to go slowly?”

“Alright, what do you like?”

The question is asked playfully, with a smile, a gentle means of feeling him out, and he wishes he could play along, that it could ever be that simple. Instinct tells him to make a suggestive joke, to tell her to do whatever she likes, but he knows that’s not what this is. Honest, vulnerable, all of his armor stripped away, that is the only way this can work for him.

“I don’t know what I like,” he whispers. What he wanted or enjoyed hadn’t really mattered. He had tried once to use his conquests the same way they used him, but finding pleasure in someone fated to die felt rather cruel even by his standards, and it was never as enjoyable as he hoped. It was an exercise in futility to care about what he wanted or liked anyway, so he’d simply stopped paying attention. And now he has no idea what feels good or doesn’t. He watches the words hit, watches her process the invariably sad admission.

He expects a deferment, that somehow he has managed to cut this off before it can really begin, but she simply pulls him closer. “Well, it’s a good thing I enjoy research then, isn’t it?”

She kisses him then, it’s different from before, not careful exactly, but watchful almost. And he wants nothing more than to get lost in her, so he does. She is everywhere, warm, inviting, perfect. He can’t seem to touch enough of her, and the feeling seems mutual, he keeps pressing himself into her touch, looking for more. She shifts her weight, urging him onto his back, and he complies. She sits up over him, tosses her long, dark hair over her shoulder, and puts distance between them he doesn’t want. He indicates as much by catching her hand, trying to pull her back into him, but she rebuffs him by nipping at his knuckles.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there if you want,” she says. “Take these off?” she gestures at his pants but doesn’t reach for him.

“If I do that, you’ll be overdressed.”

“Are you trying to negotiate?”

He fluffs the pillow below him and settles in, indicating that he could wait all day. “Sure.”

“Together then?” she says, toying with the hem of the shirt. He nods and begins removing his pants as she discards the shirt, revealing the untracked expanse of her skin. She is so buttoned up most of the time, he had expected that she might be shy about her body, but she’s not. He had hardly gotten to look his fill when they’d bathed together, so he takes his time now. There’s a slight flush across her chest that dips down to the tops of her lovely, round breasts. There’s still some bruising across her shoulder and ribs, but it’s mottled and fading instead of the brilliant purple it had been last night.

She leans in and catches his hand, bringing it to rest with hers on the jut of his hip bone. “Show me how to touch you.”

Every thought eddies out of his head, everything except her, her touch. He can feel all of her attention on him, eyes watchful as her other hand finds his. He thinks he might die if she doesn’t begin touching him soon, so he covers her hands with hers and begins moving them across his skin. He shivers at the dual sensation of both their hands against his skin, moving slowly, drawing out the intoxicating torture of soft touches before finally leading her hands down his chest and stomach, guiding her to the hard jut of his cock. Her hand follows without hesitation, wraps around him boldly and he sees stars.

He’s dimly aware that his hands have fallen to his sides, of the way they clench at the sheets and the way his lungs have emptied of air. She pumps him, slowly, torturously, and he leans into the pleasure of it. He opens his eyes, unsure when he closed them, and she is there, cataloging his every reaction, every movement with those clever green eyes of hers. Like with anything else, Liv is careful with this, intentional. He feels stripped utterly bare, down to all his broken parts, but she looks at him like he is whole, and maybe just now, he is. Their eyes meet, and he can see the satisfaction in her gaze, and then she leans down and kisses his hipbone, a clear question in her eyes.

He doesn’t trust himself for words, so he simply nods. She kisses further in, moves her hand enough to run her tongue along the length of him before taking him into her mouth. He can’t help but touch her then, his fingers in her hair, feather-light. He doesn’t need to guide or push her, he instead needs an anchor. He is unmoored, undone by her. His whole body seems to tense and relax at intervals as pleasure takes him, and a ragged sound escapes his throat. It feels so good that it is almost too good. He cups her cheek, slowing her very good work. “No more,” he manages, the words strained.

With some effort, he coaxes her up his body. She kisses his jaw before looking into his eyes. “Still with me?”

Because he had told her once that sometimes during the act he was anywhere but here. But he wants nothing more than to be present here and now. “I’m with you. Now come here.”

He flips them in one quick movement that puts her beneath him. He pins her down with a fierce, hungry kiss against her smiling mouth. Skin against skin, there is nothing keeping him from the warmth of her. Their thighs tangle together, and he can feel her racing pulse. She is so vibrant, so very alive.

His fingers tangle with hers, and he pulls back just enough to whisper, “Show me how to touch you.”

He swallows down her answering laughter, but her hand leads his to the swell of her breast. He follows her lead happily, swiping a thumb across her nipple, feeling the way it hardens under his ministrations. She is breathless, chest heaving even as she guides his hand down beneath her underwear and into the tangle of dark curls between her thighs. She arches into him as he dips his fingers inside of her. She’s already wet and waiting. He swallows down her low moan, biting her lower lip and then working his way down her neck, across her collarbone while his fingers work in and out of her and his thumb circles her clitoris.

There’s a flush to her cheeks and her hips move against his hand, seeking further friction even as he feels her inner walls tightening. He hooks his fingers ruthlessly, pressing in deeper, and watches as the orgasm takes her. She’s beautiful like this, head thrown back in pleasure, chest heaving, his name on her lips.

There’s a feeling in his chest, a tightness that’s torn between drawing this out, making it last as long as possible, and a bone-deep need for more, more, more. He captures her lips in a kiss that’s just this side of punishing and eases her underwear down her legs. There’s nothing between them now, and he marvels at how easily they fit against each other, her warmth seeping into his skin, spreading through him. “I want you. I want this, all of it. Can we…?”

She cradles his face in her hands, fingers gentle as they sweep across his cheekbones. “Yes.”

It is so easy then to shift his hips and slowly press into her. Her thighs wrap around his waist as if she cannot get close enough. He begins to move, languidly at first, enjoying the feel of being inside her. But the more he moves with her, the more he feels as though his heart is splitting at the seams as if his own rib cage might open up and his heart leap out to her. She might be below him, but he is wholly at her mercy.

Her hands run along his back, fingernails scraping carefully against his shoulder blades. Waves of sensation roar through him, and the sound of her breathing is in his ears as she unravels beneath him. He picks up his pace, feeling the thundering of her heartbeat as if it is echoing in his own chest. There is the slightest compulsion to perform, to tell her how good she feels, to whisper any of the meaningless things he’s used to, but instead, he simply says her name, like it is a prayer, an anchor keeping him here.

She comes around him with a sigh, and he presses his face into her neck, worrying his teeth against soft flesh as his own release builds within him. He lets go of the careful control he has held to, to the rhythm he’d established, simply seeking his own pleasure now. She holds him like he’s precious, and it is easy then to follow her over pleasure’s glimmering edge.

Her fingers are in his hair, gently raising his head enough to look at her, boneless as he is. “I love you,” she says breathlessly.

Is this what it feels like, to be with someone wholly? It feels almost too big to hold, he thinks his eyes might be burning from the profound relief of it all. “I love you too.”

“You’re still with me?” she asks.

He kisses her again, amazed that he can, that he wants to, that somehow he hasn’t gotten his fill, that he doesn’t feel hollowed out. “Always.”

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #bg3 fanfiction #what moves in the dark #astarion x liv #slothquisitorwrites

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queen-of-the-misfit-toys · 4 months

Text

That's All

Another little ficlet from last year but needed new life since Luke talked about his love of piano in an interview released today. This is short...about 662 words...but sweet ☺️ and based on one of my favorite Michael Buble songs.

____________________________________________

"I'm going to maim that man one of these days," Sophie mumbled as she struggled up the stairs with the shopping, "Why can't he ever answer his phone when I need him?"

She heard the faint sound of soft piano and sighed. He was lost in his music again.

Benedict was often at the piano these days. Unlike his painting, which fed his passion and his wallet, playing the piano fed his soul. It gave him solace. It had been several months since Sophie had moved in and his world turned topsy-turvy. She'd needed a place to go when her boyfriend decided to sell their home and move back in with his, surprise to Sophie, wife. Ben had welcomed her with open arms declaring that this was her home as long as she wanted. He never realized how hard it would be to live with your unrequited love.

"Ben, I could use some help with the shopping," Sophie called to him. "There's just a few more in the car to get and then you can go back to your keys."

The music stopped. "Coming, Soph. What all did you buy? We're only having a few friends and family 'round", he laughed as he bounded down the stairs.

" Well, the human disposal known as your dear brother Colin is coming so we must have enough for him plus the other 15 or so of us. What were you playing when I walked in? It sounded beautiful."

He blushed slightly, "Oh, nothing much. Just something I've been messing around a bit. Not fit for ears yet I'm afraid."

"Well, it seemed lovely and I can't wait to hear the finished piece", she kissed him on the cheek, "I'm going to bathe before we get to work on the food."

Sophie settled on a bath instead of a shower. She tried to relax into the steamy water and let it work its magic on her sore muscles. She'd been so tense since the breakup and moving in with Benedict. She knew how he felt about her and, while she did love him in her own way, she was nowhere near ready for another relationship.

She heard the piano start again and the lovely tune he'd played earlier drifted upstairs. Except this time Benedict was singing along,

" I can only give you love to last forever and a promise to be near each time you call…la da da de da da da…la dah de da da dum…."*

Sophie sat mesmerized by the beautiful words she'd just heard and, moreso, by his voice. She'd never really heard him sing, hum yes, and drunken karaoke didn't count. Benedict had a rich, deep, almost sultry singing voice and she needed to hear more. Stepping out of the bath, she tiptoed into the hall.

"If you're wondering what I'm asking in return, dear. You'll be glad to know that my demands are small. Say it's me that you'll adore, for now and evermore. That's all. That's all."*

Sophie stood trying to keep the tears from running down her face. She clutched her towel tighter and made her way down to his music room.

"Benedict", she whispered very softly, so low he could barely hear her. He spun around.

"Sophie! You're soaking wet and…crying. Did you hurt yourself in the bath? Are you alright? He jumped up to look her over for injuries.

"I'm fine, Ben, I just heard you playing and singing and wanted to hear more. A private concert if you will."

"Are you sure you're not hurt? You didn't hit your head, did you? You're acting a bit strange right now," he laughed nervously. "It's not like you to run around half starkers just to hear me play."

"Don't forget I wanted to hear you sing too."

"That's all then? You really just want to watch and hear me?

"That's all, Darling. That's all."

*Song is "That's All" by Bob Haymes*

*My favorite version is by Michael Buble*

#benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton

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jungle-angel · 11 months

Text

Cozy Domestic Prompts for Winter

It's that time of the year guys, when hell freezes over and I'd love nothing more than to bundle up in a bunch of wool and hide under a big cozy blankie (lol). Taking requests for Top Gun Maverick, Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Catch 22 (Hulu), Salem's Lot, Press Play and Lessons in Chemistry.

Sledding with the babies

First Snowfall

Curling up in the library by the fireplace while the snow falls

Warm apple or pumpkin pies

Bundling up the babies on a cold night and tucking them into bed

Lighting the woodstove in the bedroom

The cat(s) or the dog(s) warming their hoomans' feet

Teaching the baby to catch snowflakes on their tongue

Prepping the farm/ranch for winter

Warm cookies

"Oh my God!!! Your feet are freezing!"

Knitting a hat, scarf and mittens for their s.o

Shopping for Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

Making Christmas and Thanksgiving decorations by hand

School being called off and having an epic snow day with their s.o and the kids

Warming up in a hot bath with their s.o

Making snow angels

Marshmallows roasting on an open fire

Cooking Thanksgiving dinner while the snow falls outside

Chaos ensuing while Thanksgiving dinner is being prepped

Making fresh gingerbread cake or cookies

Finally not having to plow or shovel the driveway and being able to pay a family friend to plow

"Get your mitts out of the food!"

Warming their clothes near the woodstove before bed

Reading to the babies on a cold winter night while they're all snuggled in momma and daddy's bed

The cat or the dog snuggling with the kids to keep them warm

Sitting with their s.o by the fire and watching the snow fall outside

"I've heard of ugly sweaters but ugly pjs?"

Giving their s.o a piece of winter themed jewelry

Going out at the full moon in winter and calling to an animal friend who lives near the farm/ranch

Getting to see the aurora for the first time

Hot breakfast/lunch/dinner on a cold shitty day

Warm slippers

"Let me warm you up"

A new pair of boots

"I'm only wearing your Carhardt because my jacket is in the wash"

Hot drinks

"How's about an early kiss under the mistletoe"

"Is that even gonna fit in the oven?"

Ice hockey game with family and friends

"It's too cold to go out, you wanna build a pillow fort instead?"

Singing around the fire with their family

Winter hiking

Snowball fight

Watching their s.o paint a winter landscape

School being called off early due to a snowstorm

"What is it with Lucy and that damn football?"

Counting the stars and constellations on a winter night

Winter bonfires

#top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin mitchell #amelia mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #reuben payback fitch #rhett abbott #miles miller #major major #ben mears #harrison knott #calvin evans

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Text

hello and welcome to another celebration! ❣️❣️❣️

Thank you so much for everything, forever grateful for every single interaction and every one I've met here, smooches and love to everyone <3

This time around I will write blurbs and drabbles and focus solely on the women!!! 🍒

Running from october 17 to october 21!

masterlist here!

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

What will you do is mix and match a character or several with one or several of the following categories.

🌷Polyamorous ships are always encouraged. Dark topics, platonic relationships & aus are welcome. No daughter! reader though.

🌷 Please only use a character from the ones already provided.

🌷I will either turn them to make blurbs or hds or drabbles depending on my inspiration but you can suggest to me what it should be.

🌷As always feel encouraged to send as many asks as you desire. I will be receiving the asks and releasing them of my own volition.

🌷 You have to be strictly 18+ to participate.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

characters: Selina Kyle, Natasha Romanoff, Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova, Valkyrie, Layla El Faouly, Monica Rambeau, Jane Foster, Jessica Jones, Gamora, Elektra Natchios, Wanda Maximoff || Bix Caleen, Galadriel, Sharon Carter, Nakia, Jennifer Walters, Dinah Madani, Karen Page, Bobbi Morse, Maya Lopez.

aus: apocalypse, ballet, bakery, bar, bodyguard, book store, brothel, celebrity, coffee shop, cult, detective, fake dating, gardening, ghost, mafia, maid, mechanic, mermaid, musician/rock star, neighbor, stripper, tattoo shop, yandere.

kinks: whips, corruption, latex, breath play, cockwarming, phone sex, gloves, choking, mutual or guided masturbation, mirror sex, love bites, strip tease, uniform/suit, deep throating, knife play, gunplay, titty fucking, hunter/prey, squirting, praise, worship, dirty talk, sex toys, overstimulation, accidental stimulation, collaring, shower, sensory deprivation, somnophilia, gagging, lingerie, object insertion, rimming, lap dance, period sex, lactation, balcony, thigh riding, breast worship, temperature play, edging, sex tape, hate sex, spanking, exhibitionism, handcuffs, clothes on, moresomes, degradation, humiliation.

date ideas: day trip, road trip, rock climbing, library, museum, botanical gardens, restaurant, camping, beach, drinks, concert, walking, sightseeing, volunteering, boat ride, dancing, spa, errands, mattress shopping, shopping spree, cinema, coffee, ice skating, cooking classes, abandoned places, photoshoot.

domestic situations: building furniture, trying new recipes, competitive games, painting nails, reading, cuddling, clothes shopping, packing, laundry, goodbye at the door, repairing, changing bedsheets, exercising, deep cleaning, takeout, bath, falling asleep, dancing, holidays, brushing teeth, waking them up, eating, listening to music, complaining about family, movie nights, nagging, doing dishes.

Just combine as many as you want however you seem fit! And of course when it comes to domestic situations and date ideas you can think of other things or be more specific on one situation! ☆

☆ In the near hopefully future, I will keep the same exact format and have all the characters available ☆

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

No pressure tagging: @alohastyles-x, @silver-pieces, @stargirlfics, @maladaptivexxdaydreaming,@musingsinmoonlight, @chelleztjs18, @asgardwinter, @inklore, @bvckysmoon, @that-sarcastic-writer, @wint3r-h3art, @galatially, @writing-for-marvel, @stranger-nightmare, @psychedelic-ink,

#selenes sleepovers #1.8 wlw sleepover #natasha romanoff x reader #Valkyrie x reader #Selina kyle x reader #kate bishop x reader #Jennifer walters x reader #marvel x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena Belova x reader #layla el faouly x reader #jane foster x reader #monica rambeau x reader #jessica jones x reader #selenes celebrations

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months

Note

hi cas, reg kin anon back already haha

(again, cw/tw for medical stuff and complicated family dynamics)

firstly, thank you for your supportive and kind words, they really do mean a lot to me (and everyone else you help; youre genuinely such a wonderful person and deserve everything good in life ♡)

i think ive come to the conclusion that i havent really processed the whole situation yet, honestly. even though i wrote it to you, i havent actually said the words out loud about my mother's diagnosis (and honestly writing them out again is a struggle haha, like my fingers are blocked from doing it), and it kind of feels like saying it makes it real? does that make sense? i dunno. it feels so impossible to imagine my mother being genuinely sick with something so serious. 'my mother' and 'cancer' dont fit in the same sentence.

but i didnt really realise until now just how major of a major life event this is for everyone and everything. because (and remember, i have a very complicated relationship with my mother. i once defined it as 'i dont have to like you to love you' and i think thats really relevant to now, too) my mother was going to help me with moving out (both buying things ill need, as well as actually moving out on the day) but she told me yesterday that ill have to go out to get things myself because she physically cant right now. i didnt think id mind so much, i like having my own independance and doing things myself, but i went out today to buy everything i need and i was struggling so much more than i thought. i genuinely almost had a breakdown crying in the first shop i went to.

honestly part of that was because i had no idea what i needed or where was best to get it or what any of the fancy words about different types of stuff meant (like, who even knows what depth their mattress is to buy the right bedsheet?? what is a tog??? whats the difference between a bath sheet and a bath towel?? they look the same!) but also because that was something we were supposed to do together. i dont like her and theres so much about her i want to change, but theres a huge part of me that was looking forward to a parent/child experience that so many normal families have, especially because i didnt get a lot of other typical 'growing up' moments with my parents due to how my family is.

part of me, in all honesty, considered waiting to move out, partly so that she could still be part of it, and partly so that i was in a better place emotionally to be able to handle the change. but if i were to do that, id have to wait another year (im moving out to go to university, and i already put it off last year to get a job instead because i was scared and anxious about university) and i dont know that i could go a whole extra year stuck at home. theoretically, i could afford to move out and rent (or buy, if i went to one of the cheap areas) when i felt ready in however many months time, but itd be a huge drain on my savings and would be nowhere near where ill be for school the following year so itd be a waste of money and time. itd be stupid and silly for me to put off university for another year, but i did consider it. i wont, but part of me is scared and wants to.

i met up with my older brother for lunch while i was out (who, sticking with the black family dynamics, is kind of like the andromeda of my family. he moved out 5 years ago to break away from the family and rarely comes home, and is probably the one person in my life who i feel genuinely comfortable and safe around) and we talked about it which was nice, especially considering my family is typically very much a 'do not talk about your feelings at all' sort of family, and as a whole we have not discussed anything further about my mother's health or how we're all handling it since that first conversation. he was super gentle and caring and honestly that in itself made me want to cry a bit because hes just so not at all like our parents?? idk who raised him but i wish theyd raised me too hahaha

but anyway, he was really open and supporting with me. he talked a bit about how he was feeling (which was super validating, because he was also hit hard by it and had complex feelings about it all) and he was really clear too that if i needed anything at all, i could always go to him and would always be welcome at his flat if i needed time away, even when i move out. (seriously, who raised this perfect older brother????) basically he was everything i needed in that moment and i am really genuinely thankful he exists, so at least my parents made one decent thing haha

still, though. i think its starting to hit me now just how many things are going to change and, as selfish as it is, how many things im going to lose and miss out on because of it. i dont like my mother, but i want her there to help me take that next step in my adult life, yknow? she, nor my father, have explicitly said she wont be able to help on moving day, but its not likely, and theres no way on earth i could ever ask whether she will (again: selfish thinking.)

my brother did mention, though, that the type of cancer our mother has is apparently one of the worse types if it isnt caught early enough. as far as i understand it (which isnt much, honestly, i dont understand much with medicine), she has cancer in her abdomen and its usually caught too late to get rid of. i didnt know this until today, i think our father didnt want to worry me? but i dont actually know how far along the cancer is (which stage it is? i think thats the right term) and i dont know at what stage it becomes too late. my brother also didnt seem to know, but now thats put a new worry in my head because my father explicitly did not mention that to me, so of course my brain has jumped to conclusions about why and what that means. im trying not to spiral, but ever since i found out about her diagnosis, i dont actually think ive gone ten minutes without 'fuck, my mother has cancer' or something similar going through my head, and restarting the breakdown id just pushed down again.

as expected, my sister was already making inappropriate jokes about it by the next time i saw her. i spoke to my brother about this too (hes cut contact with her entirely, like i plan to) and that was part of why he offered to let me stay with him if i ever needed; to escape our sister as much as our mother. i dont understand how she doesnt care a single bit. i know shes never got along with our parents but like, at least have a little decency and sensitivity?? she was literally laughing about it and i just... i dont get how someone could be such an awful person. sure whatever, she doesnt have to be upset if she really doesnt care, but thats crossing a fucking line.

this is getting to be another long ask so im gonna stop here for now, but before i do i just want to say thank you again for being such a safe place for myself and others. you are so, so wonderful cas ♡

- reg kin anon

Hi hon ❤️❤️❤️

I know there’s not a lot I can say right now to make you feel better because unfortunately I don’t know the future. I don’t know how this will turn out and neither do you. But I want to say again that your feelings - all of them - are okay and valid and none of them are bad or shameful. It’s okay to mourn the things that you might miss and it’s okay to have mixed emotions. No feelings are right or wrong here, and I’m here when you need to vent. Also I know move in Day will be hard but I’m so proud of you for continuing to prepare for university.

Sending so much love ❤️

#asks #ask #ask cas #reg kin anon

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Seven.

Thank you to everyone for your interactions! I have noticed these dwindling of late, though, just 18 notes for the last chapter. Surely we can do better? If not, I might have to bring the unlocking system back and only release a new chapter when the previous one hits a set number of notes.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Words - 3,212

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“Is that a birthmark?”

She thinned her lips, trying not to laugh. “Nope.”

“Sock mark?”

She shook her head, EZ eyeing her ankle again. “Okay, I give in. What is it?”

“Fake tan cling.” The face he pulled had her in soft fits. “I know, I know! It’s shameful, given that I do these professionally. I got a rub from new shoes and then after it had almost healed, I didn’t want to exfoliate and knock the scab, but my tan needed topping up and I don’t do the sunbeds or sunbathing, so yeah. Sorry, that was probably as boring as watching paint dry for you.”

He cocked his head, kissing the side of her foot. “Little bit.”

She gasped, mock aghast. “You’re not supposed to admit it!”

“Hey, at least I don’t lie!”

Except he did. All the time to her, Camille having absolutely no idea, either. At least in that moment, though, EZ was actually having a sincerely good time without resorting to any game playing, somewhat wedged in her bath, sat at the opposite end, rubbing her tired feet for her. These moments did happen, where he didn’t feel overwhelmed by the need for control or manipulation, when he just enjoyed Camille for who she was, how he felt when she was with her, and not the hoops he could stealthily make her jump through.

“Damn, you girls have so much stuff, I swear. What, do you get a product discount at the salon or something?” he remarked, eyes touring the bathroom, especially round the outside of the tub as he began picking things up. “Exfoliating face polish, exfoliating body polish... are they not the same things? Little bits of grit suspended in some kind of perfumed goo?”

“No, they’re different,” she began, taking the face one from him. “This one is finer, because body polish is too harsh for the face, the gritty bits you speak of are smaller, so it’s kinder to the more sensitive skin. This stuff is really, really good though. Here.”

Squeezing some out onto her fingertips, she reached for him, EZ recoiling. “Nope, I don’t need to be buffed, no!” He lifted his chin, resisting as she moved onto her knees between his legs, trying to apply it to his face. “Camille!”

“Oh, sit still and let me pamper you!” He grunted with begrudging acceptance, scrunching his eyes tightly shut while she massaged the scrub over his face. “I thought you said the stuff for the face was finer?”

“It is,” she hummed, working it along the sides of his nose.

“It’s like being sandblasted!”

“Oh, EZ!” she snort laughed, fingertips working along his jaw. “For someone who has a scar on his abdomen that I suspect came from a bullet, you sure do complain.”

He grumbled in mild complaint as she picked up a washcloth and began wiping down his face, EZ further crumpling his features. “I’d rather be shot again.”

“So dramatic,” she teased, bobbing her tongue between her teeth, giggling at the dark look he gave her.

“No, dramatic is my brother,” he stated.

“Does his wife attack him like this too, then?”

“I have no idea, but she waxed his chest once and he screamed so loud, I swear, he nearly blew the clubhouse doors off,” he explained, beginning to laugh. “She’d been shopping with Gilly’s girl, and got these waxed paper things, so they’re sitting there doing their legs, and Angel being Angel said it couldn’t be that painful, so she stuck one on his chest and ripped. He nearly died! Said if she ever came near him with one again, he’d divorce her, and he was sticking with a razor.”

“Yeah, it can be painful! You should let me do yours some time, though. It lasts longer than shaving,” she offered, EZ raising an eyebrow and shaking his head.

“Absolutely not. I don’t get much anyway, just a small patch in the centre I shave off when I’m in the shower. I’m not like my brother, if he let his grow he’d look like a Persian rug.” She cracked up at his statement, her giggles escalating.

“Bit like your balls then, huh?”

“Oh, screw you, Camille! I trim, I’m tidy!”

“What with, a weed whacker?”

He scowled, her giggles escalating. “Now you’re really gonna get it.” He lunged for her, blowing raspberries at the side of her throat as he tickled her beneath the water, water that sloshed out all over the floor as she scream laughed. What began as silly fun quickly gained heat, EZ lifting her from the water, carrying her soaking wet body to her bedroom and throwing her down onto the bed, diving on her with hunger. Pretty quickly, though, she was the one to top him, in a way that had EZ absolutely out of his mind with arousal.

“You look very content down there, I, ahhh, I have to say,” she purred softly, watching his eyes burn gold in the dim light coming from the many candles she’d paused to light, his tongue dragging through her folds as she grinded herself against it, his hands stroking her thighs as she sat astride his face.

“I have a mouthful of my favourite thing in the entire world, of course I am.” Her hips gyrated in serpentine, tender, wet folds dragging over his plump lips, his chin, his nose, getting herself off on the angles of his face, just as he wanted, soaking him with her dew. His tongue darted out again, catching her sensitive, swollen clit, her mewl filling the room as she continued to rock back and forth, back and forth.

She whined, and it was the most beautiful sound to him, Camille utterly lost in the tempest of the moment, slow and winding, her nails flexing upon his powerful forearms, his tongue swiping through her folds as she purled forth again, drowning him in the slick gush from her hot, pulsing cunt, like a honey pot dripping into his eager mouth. “Yeah, my gorgeous baby. Get me wet. Fuck, you taste incredible.”

Every word uttered had her pulse throbbing madly, her pleasure ascending, EZ pulling her down closer to him, lifting his chin as she moved back once more, her gaping opening stimulated by the press of it, his tongue pushing within, grunting as he felt her muscles pulse against it. He let her ride it, circling, his nose nudging deliciously at her clit before she slid up once more, shaking, overcome.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she wailed, his lips enveloping her clit and sucking until the lightning struck home, her tingles wild and tempestuous as her pussy melted into his mouth. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” What followed, though, well...

His many inches of thick, hot heaven stroked pure ebullience against her sensitive walls, her dainty fingers clutching at her breasts as he held her thighs apart, fucking her frantically, sexually decimating her insides, giving himself with keenly delivered thrusts. Actually, keen was not a word that could be used to describe the utter pounding Camille was receiving.

What he gave was all-out sexual brutality, the headboard banging against the wall, her body sliding back only for the clutch of his powerful hands to keep hauling her back, anchoring her to him, forcing her to take the brunt of it entirely. And that brunt, nothing could feel better. Nothing did feel better than EZ, fucking her with all the power of a turbo charged jackhammer. Nothing.

His body was an absolute masterpiece to her lust blown eyes, all thick, tattooed and smooth, covered in a sheen of sweat as he railed her mercilessly into the bed, his thumb beginning to stroke at her hardened clit as the punch of his cock drew lewd noises from within her soaking walls, pleasure crackling through her, the swell skittering through her veins and down to her bones as she wailed helplessly, at the mercy of him entirely.

“Look at you, fuck. You look so fucking beautiful, split around my dick.” he growled, grasping her legs and hauling them up to rest against his chest, turning his head to lay kisses and little bites at her ankle, adding to the teeth marks he’d left over her already, the brandings from a man near out of his mind with carnal fury.

He then slowed, each plunge into her fluttering centre given in all-in, all-out thrusts, teasing her aching core, chuckling at her frustrated little mewls as he panted hard. “EZ, please! Fucking give it to me!” she demanded, nails raking his arms.

“But I am, querida. Just not the way you want it.” he winked, laughing further at her vexation, the circles at her clit rubbed so slowly, lightly and tightly that she almost forgot to breathe, his cock popping out again, pausing, arrowing back to her summit as he groaned, her slick muscles contracting on him tightly. He leaned forward, her knees touching to her chest, bearing his weight down through his pelvis right into the very plush of her, kissing her throat before gently clutching her jaw, turning her head to look at him. “Alright, my little dove. I’ll give it to you.”

And god, how he did, sending Camille to the edges of heaven, the way he arrowed into her without even a hint of control, long, hard, barbarous thrusts delighting her entire body, her screams filling the room as lava began to bubble and pool at the base of her spine, the release set to erupt, his thumb circling at her bud faster.

His teeth crushed at her neck, whispering a string of cusses as his undoing possessed him, like a demon vying for release, her entire body tensing as with fury, longing and fire, she came undone spectacularly beneath him, seeing stars, breathless and sweaty, and oh so very satisfied. Such was the measure of that satisfaction, they both fell into dreamy slumber soon after, pleased that neither of them had anywhere to be the following morning.

It was just coming up to 10am when a noise from the front door awoke EZ, his head shooting up, senses on high alert. Camille might have lived in a decent neighbourhood, but you could never be so sure. Pulling his boxers on, he picked up his gun from where he’d left it upon the dresser, toeing the partially ajar bedroom door open and waiting, hearing someone walking down the hallway. He stepped out at speed, gun primed, the air filled with a scream.

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Marge yelled at suddenly being confronted by a huge, barely dressed, gun toting man, dropping the hessian bag she’d been carrying onto the hallway floor, resting a hand to her chest as she heard a scrambling noise coming from the bedroom. Immediately, EZ lowered his gun.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he began, Marge feeling like she’d just birthed her own spleen. “Camille didn’t tell me you were coming over. You’re Marge, right?”

“Yes, at least I was until ten seconds ago. I’m now Marge’s ghost. And you are?”

“EZ.” He offered his hand, Marge shaking it just as Camille appeared behind him.

“Sorry, I should have mentioned that mom sometimes comes over unannounced,” she spoke, kissing his shoulder as she slid past him, EZ nodding before excusing himself to dress. Thank fuck they hadn’t been partaking in anything even remotely similar to what they had prior to falling asleep, or her mother would have gotten a different surprise altogether, one distinctly more embarrassing, too.

While EZ dressed, Camille ushered her mother into the kitchen, closing the door behind them, Marge setting her bag down before turning back to her daughter, her eyes wide, jerking her head towards the door. “That’s one tall drink of water.”

Switching the coffee machine on and tightening the silky tie of her floral robe, Camille nodded, grinning. “Isn’t he?”

“And how long have you been with him for? I take it this is new, since mommy here knows nothing of him?”

“A few months now, but it’s going really well.”

“Alright, and tell me, why does he carry a damned semi-automatic handgun?”

Marge Smith was nothing if not extremely direct, Camille beginning to feel a little uneasy. “Protection. He lives in the lesser nice area of Santo Padre. Besides, mommy, you carry!”

“Yeah, but I’m five two and stumpy. Women like me get car jacked, I’m a target. He’s no damned target!” They shared laughter there, Marge continuing. “And what in the hell kind of name is EZ?”

Oh, she was on form that morning, the spritely redhead beginning to unload the bag she’d brought with her, freshly baked bagels placed on the counter, a tub of cream cheese following.

“It’s short for Ezekiel,” Camille informed her, pulling coffee cups from the cupboard.

“I like that, yeah, that’s a good name. Very biblical.” She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Quite the contradiction, since the body on him is built for nothing but sinning.”

“Mommy!” Her daughter’s cry had her in soft fits, Marge pulling homemade jam and some smoked meats from the bag, her purchases from the farmer’s market that morning up in La Jolla she’d decided to spoil her daughter with.

“Well!” Taking the package of prosciutto over to the fridge once she’d pulled out a few slices, she playfully smacked Camille’s arm with it, her smile full of menace. “You really gonna tell me you were up playing dominoes all night with him, hmm? I saw the nail marks on his chest, my girl.”

“You are not like other mothers,” she sighed with a smidgen of embarrassment, taking the ground coffee and pouring it into the top of the machine.

“No, I’m a realist. Always have been. I’ll leave thinking you’re still a sweet little virgin princess who’s saving herself for marriage to daddy,” Marge spoke, picking up the jam jars and placing those in the fridge too, Camille mouthing her thanks for the grocery treats. “You’re welcome, chickadee.” Giving her a hug, she kissed her cheek, humming softly. If Marge Smith lived for anything at all, it was her three children, Camille the eldest at twenty-five, Candiace next at twenty-one, and Corey the youngest at seventeen.

Marge was mid-way through toasting a stack of bagels when a freshly showered EZ walked in, thinking he could be courteous enough to not reek of the fact he’d been banging the woman’s daughter for half the night, since he was set to sit down at a table with her.

“So, EZ,” she began, handing him a plate with a cream cheese and prosciutto smothered bagel and a smile. “Tell me about yourself.” He did as they sat, of course leaving a lot of details out, Marge spotting it instantly, but also wondering something else much more prevalent.

“You seem a smart kid, I gotta say it,” she began, EZ looking a little entertained.

“At almost thirty-five, I’m not really a kid any longer,” he snorted softly, his big grin still in place to indicate no offense was either meant or taken.

“I’m fifty-two, so to me, you’re a kid still. Deal with it,” she spoke through her kind smile, EZ noticing just how forthright and direct she was, but friendly with it. Camille was very different to her mother in that respect, much timider. “Anyway, as I was saying, you’re smart. What the hell are you doing working at a scrap metal yard with those brains?”

Camille noticed him stiffen a little, but wondered what his response would be. He was articulate and bright, it was obvious he’d paid attention at school and likely gone to college, too. She wondered the exact same thing, in all truth.

“Well, I was on a completely different trajectory. I did two years at med school, training to be a doctor until suffering a traumatic event that resulted in the death of my mom. If it’s okay with you, I don’t mean to shut you down, but I’d like to leave it there.” He had to keep up an image of a somewhat respectable man, he realised, so wasn’t about to reveal that he’d served eight years for killing a police officer in the immediate wake of his mother’s murder.

Marge winced a little, her face full of sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry, EZ. That must’ve been awful.” She reached for him, rubbing his forearm affectionately, Camille hugging the top of his other arm from her seat beside him.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry too, baby.” He smiled to indicate it was okay, kissing her head and wrapping his arm around her, Marge touched at how fond he appeared to be of her daughter, who she went on to speak of with pride in the name of changing the subject.

“You know, some people lose a little of that sweet, childhood softness as they grow, but not my girl here,” Marge began warmly, reaching to stroke Camille’s hand. “I remember when she was four, and we’d gone back home to visit my mom in New Jersey, and there’s this little stream that backs along the rear of the property. Anyway, I’m busy feeding Candie, and suddenly Camie shoots off down the bank before I get chance to grab her, all because she saw a butterfly drowning in the water, so jumped in to save it.

“There it was, this tiny little creature most wouldn’t have noticed struggling, and Camille spots it right away, covering herself in algae and mud in the process of retrieving it. Then years later when she was eighteen, we were coming back from a big beauty expo up in LA, and she swerved her car over suddenly, jumped out, and actually stopped the traffic in order to rescue a kitten from the middle of the highway. That kitten is now my pain in the ass, fully grown Maine Coon, who hates everyone bar me and this one.”

Marge stayed for another hour regaling him with stories of her daughter before having to leave, explaining that her husband was taking her out for a late afternoon lunch, and she wanted to get back and do ‘a little clean’ as she worded it, Camille knowing no such thing existed in the Smith household.

It was while EZ had gone out back to take a phone call and Camille was searching through her beauty stash for some sample face masks she’d picked up for her mom that Marge noticed something concerning as she slid her feet back into her comfortable, blue moccasins. Her hand reached out to grasp the leather kutte hanging from the peg in the hallway, recognising the logo on the back. Mayans, California. And Ezekiel wasn’t just any Mayan either, he was the president of their town’s charter.

It made a slither of fear trickle through her, knowing that beneath the veneer of the polite, smart and charming man she’d met, lay a man who was much more dangerous than he seemed. And her daughter was besotted with him.

What could she do, though? She was twenty-five, a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. She just had to hope that EZ wasn’t one she’d come to regret.

#ez reyes #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes smut #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes x ofc #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut

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xavieraaislinnalbert · 1 year

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"𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬" 📸✨

Hello ladies and gentlemen, I'm Xaviera Aislinn H. Albert. Today, I will tell you all about my most remarkable experience so far So, this happened 4 months ago during my 5th grade. Early in the morning that day [ May 24, 2023 (Wednesday) ], I woke up at 4:00 AM and ate breakfast with my family then, I took a bath and the water is so cold that made me tremble then after that, I dressed up and prepared my self because we are leaving to our house. We rode a tricycle until we arrived at the bus station then we wait for a few minutes for the bus to arrived then we ride into it. I sat near by the window, then I'll see many beautiful places during our trip. My father also bought for us a snacks such as banana chips and nuts before we rode on the bus. Past 7:15 AM on our trip, I felt asleep and I woke up at past 9:00 AM then after a few minutes, we already arrived at the Legazpi City Bus Terminal Station, then my father paid on the conductor of the bus.

We first went to SM Legazpi Mall to went shopping. We look for things that we want to buy at the mall. My mother asked me what I want at the mall and then I said I want a new pair of boots then she allowed me to buy it. We went to the boots store and I searched for the pair of boots that I like and that would fit in me but there's nothing so we've decided to went to the next mall which is the Pacific Mall. When we entered to the mall, we're shocked but happy at the same time because there's so many people shopping in there. We stroll around the mall and at 11:30 AM, we decided to eat our lunch because we are starving so we went to Mang Inasal to eat there and while my father was ordering our food, me with my younger brother and mother, took a photo while waiting for our food.

Then, our food is ready and before we ate, we took a photo first together with the food we ordered. After that, our tummy was filled and we go to Gibi Store to buy my boots, then I found a pair of boots that I like and that fits me and I'm so happy that time. Then, we buy anything we want from the mall. We bought lots at the mall then, we paid for them at the counter. My younger brother wants to play so we went at the play station and let him play, he played basketball and he's so good in shooting the balls from the basket then after that, he got so many tickets and we exchanged it and he got many candies and he was so happy, he even shared his price to me. Before we went home, we buy a big pack of popcorns so we can ate it at the bus. We rode at the bus at 4:10 PM because we will went back home, we ate the popcorn we bought at the mall, it was so yummy. After that, I went asleep because I was tired and sleepy that time. At 7:30 PM, I just woke up then at 8 PM, we arrived at our home. At home, we checked all of the things we bought if there is missing, hopefully nothing was missing. I also try my new pair of boots and it fits me perfectly. We ate dinner at 8:30 PM and after that, I went to sleep because I was so tired. That's my most memorable experience so far. Travelling is fun but it will make more memorable when you are with your loved ones.

"Travelling is not only about trips and adventures but it's all about how you spend your time to learn and understand things in our world that will help you to be a better version of yourself." ✈️🧳🚙✨

#family #family bonding #travel #memories #thanksbetoGodforalltheblessings🙏🙏🙏

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electrospherevaults · 1 year

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Defiler - Chapter 19

[Click here to read the rest of the Defiler story]

Catching Flight

The sunlight barely reached those windows deep within the back terminals of the Eonov Landing Strip. Botham, famed former merchant extraordinaire turned tarnished windwaker desert rider – or so would his business card have you believe. He now sat atop a big rectangular luggage, as big as a box, with all his belongings inside. He was leaving the world that made him its own for the past fifteen years. A small sum in the context of a solarian’s lifespan, if of course said lifespan turned uneventful. Botham, at least, could claim it was anything but that, maybe with a point of pride amidst a clearly visible resentment that had been overtaking him in the past decade, and even more so in the past week.

After all, it is not often that the King’s Maidens visit your shop and demand your services. Or the services of one of your employees in particular. And said employee just quit as well, with no sign of ever returning back. You said good riddance, hoping for a miracle, but miracles come up short in this sun-blasted planet. And Maidens are not famed for their tolerance either.

Thus Botham did as any wise former merchant that ran into trouble with the law would do: He hauled ass.

He returned home that night, picked out the suitcase he had stored away in case the day ever came, and put all that was important inside. Spare clothes and trinkets would not do. He had cash. Royal Credits in particular from prior ventures, carefully amassed and even more carefully hidden for times of great need. He had contacts and contracts. Documents signed ages ago, whose owners had probably forgotten of their very existence, all of them invaluable and worth a small fortune on their own in the right hands. And he had the globe. That last one was near impossible to fit inside, seeing as it was never meant for anything but first class travelling.

Tempting as it was, Botham elected to forego that ticket. Instead, he bought a single ticket to Y’trage, economy class. A move many would consider foolish, but smarter folks would actually consider genius. He tapped his foot rhythmically. He switched it to business class. “I will need the extra space,” he told himself, looking back at the open box and the rummaged belongings strewn about his habitat. His gaze fell upon the painting that hung next to the window. It was that of a young ratlung, beautiful as they come, bathed in white light. The painting was worn down, a hand-me-down from god knows how many owners prior to him. Kitschy and crass, but not enough to make Botham ever bother to take it down, no matter how many times he had thought about doing so. Besides, some art is better than no art he’d later justify himself laying down on his bed, staring out the creeping sun rays, which by some miracle barely illuminated the ratlung’s face.

He often thought of that face, as much as he denied it.

Now he was waiting for the elevator. He bid that face goodbye, along with that room. The dim lighting of the hallways led outside to a brilliant red sky, barely dipping into a full dusk. No clouds. A perfect day for a launch if one had to guess. He was lucky the holes amidst the highways strewn above his apartment allowed for the sun to still touch his face. A few levels below and it was already a distant memory, the cab driver already driving past tunnels upon tunnels within building complexes and apartments.

The goal was to get on Highway 1. That highway connected to the Eonov Landing Strip. For a planet of this size, a single spaceport, and a spaceport found planetside at that, made little sense. Then you look at the planet, the inhabitants, the business opportunities, and you consider this spaceport to be one too many built for this rock. Businesses had private launchers and strips, most located on the dark side where the heavy mining took place, and that, to Botham’s pragmatist mind, made a lot more sense.

“You ever rode one of those?” the driver pointed out during the traffic jam on the 577th mile to the Landing Strip. A holographic advertisement popped up with a splash, a rocket blasting off the surface of the planet, leaving a trail of letters behind enticing passengers to book now on their phones their next trip to Eonov. “Tabora says hello!” the advertisement further spelled as two astronauts, with their helmets undone, waved outside their spaceship towards Botham.

He scoffed. “They still use those old junks?”

“Hah, so you have!”

“Of course I have, do I look like a local to you?”

“Whoa, touchy topic I see,” the cab driver readjusted his rear side mirror, pulling down on his sunglasses. He was a valleakan with a thick nasal accent, complimented by the similarly thick scarf he adorned. He was definitely an offworlder too. Botham readjusted himself in his seat, waiting for the stars to come out. His globe sat next to him, also fastened like a person, and held in place by his hand.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Business went down in flames.”

“Ah that’s a shame man. That all remaining of it?” The driver sighted the globe.

Botham waved it away. “Just an old trinket. Gift from a friend.”

“Quite a heavy gift, I recall the spaceliners charge extra for personal items.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I can afford it.”

“A’ight, cool cool cool. Just making sure you are aware, man! But yeah, big shame. About your business I mean. What was it again?”

“Desert tourism. I ran windwakers.” The driver let out a whistle, along with a silent damn. A hint of envy combined with pity. “Big shame indeed,” Botham sighed. He turned to look back ahead at his driver. “And what about you?”

“I run this cab,” the driver laughed. “Got here on accident about seven years ago. Lost my wallet. No way back home. Now I’m making ends meet, one ride at a time.”

Botham took a look around the cab. “Doesn’t look too bad if I may say so.”

The driver tapped his head. “I refuse to let this place beat me down, man. One day, I will leave too, just like you do right now. But for now – I drive!”

The motorcade started up again.

Soon, the stars followed.

Tabora is but a planet of endless sun. To see its skies dressed up with stars, however faintly lit beyond the streetlights of Highway 1, is a sight to behold, almost like a miracle. Almost like someone turned the lights off in your room. Live long enough on the strip and you forget what it feels like to have actual darkness adorn you. Instead, you close the curtains and the shutters on your windows, maybe put out a couple glow-in-the-dark stickers in a corner of your room, and pretend you are a spaceman in the dead of night, holding onto a globe of a dead planet long forgotten by its people. But true actual darkness rest above his very head now. And his breath fogged up the window to this magnificent real view.

Botham had last seen the night sky fifteen years ago. Back then, it seemed like this business venture was a ticket. He struggled to remember what it was a ticket for. Safety? Not on this rock. Normalcy? How normal is it to live in eternal dusk? Tabora was to be a temporary hiding spot, he told himself thirty nights into living in his apartment, staring out to the ratlung hung on his wall – except all he did was run a business for tourists to bask in the sun, get sunburnt, complain and demand their money back. He chuckled, for he knew the barter system was in his favour on this one. It did not earn him too many clients, but alas the galaxy houses a lot of suckers.

Chief amongst them himself.

The cab drove through the second tunnel, soon after Highway 1 merged with another highway coming from the dark side. The night was over, and the car moved towards the final few miles to its destination. The first thing you witness upon emerging is the pale white line. The twilight adorns the skies, a pale blue that welcomes you back to the kingdom of the sun. Just beyond the horizon, a white line separates the sky from the desert expanse, a crack on the surface that joins sky and land together, the seam of the planet’s fabric. At the very centre rests a gentle bump, breaking the evenness of this fine line. Out here by the Landing Strip, the Starchild, or the Maker as ratlungs like Jasmine and Mallik would call it, looked so insignificant. It almost did not register to the imagination that the carcass of a planetary-sized spaceship is entombed within the crust of the earth. And yet, this child made its presence as well-known as it possibly could even in death, with its all-white sheen strong enough to alter the colour of the very sky.

Botham slumped back in his seat as he recalled the tales of the wars waged against them. A momentary distraction that lasted him until the checkout. Did he pay that driver enough? Did he even tip? Now the lady at the front desk would ask for a passport and the ticket number, and the luggage would have to be towed away as well.

“No, thank you,” Botham replied swiftly, grasping the handle away from her hand. “I would like to have it with me in the cabin.”

“But, sir, the size of-”

“I have measured it, and I am aware of the dimensions specified in your website.”

Botham dragged his luggage from terminal to terminal, wheels squealing under their weight. The spaceship to Y’trage was to depart in five hours. He had made it to the gate with several left to spare. Good enough. He finally put his box down, sat upon it, and let out a wistful whistle as he stared out the window. The sunlight barely registered back here; if anything, the lights from the ground crew setting up the launch shone brighter, blocking out any stars you might have hoped to catch a glimpse of. The pale blue of the twilight dawn of Tabora is unmistakeable. It almost felt poetic how his last image of a planet baked in an eternal sun would be of its encroaching nightlight.

Botham stretched out his legs. He tapped his fingers against his shoulders rhythmically, his body humming along to a tune the speakers were playing as accompaniment for the passengers. The globe, a constant companion throughout this whole hurried mess, rested next to his thigh. A memento of a place he would never see again. He chuckled as he rolled his eyes away from the thing. “Why do I even keep you still around, Cornelius?” The globe did not respond; on one hand it had no mouth, the batteries had died out and he never bothered to replace them. On another, it never felt right to give a single voice to an entity that was comprised of billions once upon a time. His left hand pulled aside, resting over it, as Botham turned his gaze upwards towards the sky. No clouds were visible. He had not seen any this entire trip.

“You know, it’s funny,” he started speaking to no one in particular. “I don’t think creatures such as we were ever meant for the stars. And I think we’ve proved we cannot really handle them either. I mean, what with the wars and destruction and,” he turned his gaze downwards, staring back at the white line of the horizon. “A-and all this… Maybe we should have just stayed home and done nothing more but graze and maim each other peacefully.”

Botham lowered his gaze. He turned towards his globe. “You never believed in all that hogwash. You never did.” He gave it a few pats in acknowledgement. A pet that had no collection of understanding over what it did wrong by digging up holes in the garden, yet would be too sad to be scolded appropriately.

He missed the last pat. The globe moved. It rolled down the length of the box and fell to the front, next to his leg. Botham raised an eyebrow. He had no time to feel that rumble.

But he would hear the second one all too late.

A long but soft whistle blew across the air, coming from lips undefined. The shaking lasted a little, starting the same way a mother gently escorts a child from the peace of slumber to the violence of the day, intensifying as it continued. Then it went again. And it went one more time, this time for longer. The gentle unexpected shakeup had now the fury of a bear mauling its prey. The window in the front cracked as a light fixture outside flickered violently, leading the engineers to scatter. Botham got up on his feet, grabbing onto the globe and the handle of the box. As another sign short circuited and sparks flied from the roof where it hung, so did voices across the building started increasing in intensity and volume. Confused panic yelps, momentary screams, the fright of a terrified animal realizing it had locked itself in a cage of its own accord and there was nothing it could do now to get out.

The window kept cracking.

Botham tried to pick up his box again. The handle stuck to his hands, but the box remained on the ground. “You piece of shit!” he exclaimed, kicking it with more fury than he thought a businessman should possess. The box cracked open, letting its entrails spill out, comprised of untold cash and documents. A guard rushed over, steadying his step as he approached. “Sir!” Botham had no time for niceties. “If I lose this, my life is finished, you understand?”

The guard shoved him on the ground. He fell face flat, his tooth got loose. “What the fuck man,” Botham spat as he tried to steady himself.

“You are under arrest, sir!”

Botham chuckled. He smiled as he brought his head to face the window again.

The white line in the horizon had shrunk.

And the ball in the centre was getting bigger.

#defiler #my writing #sci fi #nanowrimo wip #nanowrimo 2021 #original fiction #we're back my dudes!

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