#I have a lot of locks to open on wooden structures

[looniecartooni]

Fantoccio is now officially in charge of my work keys. He knows how to unlock and lock many a lock. And there are many... many locks he gets to open.

[littledes1re]

Millers Wood Carving

Pairing: Oldman!joel x Fem!reader

Summary: you want to surprise your dad with something new on his birthday and you decide it‘s going to be something carved out of wood. Luckily the owner of ‚Millers Wood Carving‘ shop is there to help.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, inexperienced!reader, very nervous!reader, socially awkward also, just the tip🫣, pinv, unprotected sex, age gap! (Reader is in her 20s, joel in his 60s) finger sucking, size kink, dom/sub undertones, Pet names (including little one!) slight mean!joel, he mocks reader once, praise kink, slight degradation, no outbreak

A/N: So OBVIOUSLY i have no idea about wood carving yall and everything I wrote here is info I gathered off websites so just don’t focus on that😭😭 I randomly got this idea and it stuck for days, I needed to write this.

It was a rather uninteresting present, to buy something carved out of wood for your father’s birthday. It all had been done, countless times. Flannels, shirts, a tie with a suit…a tie without a suit, perfumes, a new grill, new glasses and many many things more. It was all just repeating at this point. But for his 56th birthday in three months you wanted something new. Something that wasn’t the usual way of surprising him.

Carved wood.

You rolled your eyes as you stood in front of the ‚miller‘s wood carving‘ shop. Admittedly, you didn’t really like this idea. You didn‘t even know if your father would enjoy such a gift. It was a structure carved out of wood, something you can decorate with and that was it, nothing useful in any way. Wouldn’t it just sit on his shelf, gathering dust?

A sigh left your lips, as you looked into the display window, many animals, some objects like cars and planes carved out of wood. And through the window you saw shelves with intricate carvings—sturdy bowls, towering figurines lined. You had also absolutely no idea what kind of wood carving he would want. Little figurines, animals or any objects wasn’t in his interest, you knew that. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe a suit would be a better—

“Can I help you, miss?“ your head turned around and you locked eyes with an old man. Old man—he stood tall, had board shoulders and his presence is very commanding. The curly silver hair was slicked back, the glasses he had sitting on top of his nose were slightly dirty. His mustache and beard, patchy with whites. Even if you knew that this man was older, he was still utterly captivating.

So much that you held still, getting nervous under the gaze of the stranger standing there.

„Y’looking for wood carving?“ his eyebrows going up, revealing his beautiful brown orbs.

„Yea. Yea, I think so. A present for my dad.“

“Ah, present for your dad you say. Well, you are just on the right spot, come with me.” He took the key out of his pocket and went to open the door. So he was the owner.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea after all, if a man like him was going to help you.

You walked through the shop with your mouth open. It was beautiful. Joel's shop was small but very cosy. Inside, there were even more of his carvings and lots of wooden blocks in every corner. It even smelled of it; as you walked through, it reminded you of a forest. He had occasionally very few customers, but that didn't bother him. He was pursuing a hobby and could do what he loved. More did he love the look on your face as you admired his shop, seemingly taken back and completely mesmerised of the tons of shelves he had with wood carvings.

Admittedly he was also a bit taken back when a young woman like you stood in front of his shop. It was usually the older people who bought his work and who he had more experience in. As he showed you his little work corner with a table, sat down and asked you also to sit down, he didn’t know how to quite act.

“I’m joel, by the way. S’nice meeting you. Would you like a tea?” His voice was sweet, warm, like honey over gravel. You politely denied him and told him your name, getting a little smile from him.

Despite the pleasant atmosphere in his shop, you felt a little tense. You hadn't expected him to be so intriguing; it all caught you off guard. The way he just sat there and tried to organise his things, eyebrows furrowed, legs spread. He wasn’t doing anything but he looked good. Too good for an old man. And you knew he was old, if the wrinkles in his face didn’t tell you, it was his style, if that didn’t tell you then it was the white hair. Yet you couldn’t help but stare, something about him was so gripping.

You didn‘t know what was going on with you.

While it was going to be the most innocent thing you had to do, buy a birthday present for your father, unknowingly and slowly your mind slipped past that and turned it into something naughty. While this seemingly very nice old man just wanted to help you out, you couldn‘t help yourself and started to daydream scenarios about him. And suddenly your body started to react to that too, warmth spreading all over your crotch and your thighs squeezing almost automatically.

“Y’know what you want?” You straightened slightly, focusing in on making your expression into that of someone who wasn’t just checking him out. But he caught you, with the small flicker of his eye, the subtle tension, the way you focused on him.

“Uhm, not really. I—I didn’t really think about that. I just know he doesn’t like animals, objects and uh, other small things.”

Oh great, one thing he loved about customers is that they didn‘t know what they wanted but still came to his shop. Usually he would sigh, shake his head and tell them to come when they know what they want. With that pretty face of yours tho, he couldn‘t bring it over his heart.

„What about a family tree thing? With your families names written on it. S‘just a block of wood, like this one—“ he pointed at the block besides you. „Just carved as a small tree with your names on the middle.“

You liked this idea. It was something your father might like, and even your mother. Something that could be placed over the fireplace, and would be considered decoration. It would gather dust, yes, but it would have a meaning. Joel watched you process this idea; he couldn't help but chuckle low. The way you bit those plump lips with your teeth, going left and right with your pretty eyes.

„S‘a good Idea, huh?“ his left eyebrow arched.

„Yea, yea. It‘s a very good idea.“ you nodded your head eagerly. He was intimidating, the way he looked at you. A smirk on his lips making you blush a little bit on the cheeks.

„Good. Then let‘s to a little consultation and then you can pick it up in like two weeks.“

„Consultation?“

Oh you were so clueless. And it wasn‘t annoying him once again. If you were any other person you would have been out the door immediately. He doesn‘t have the time and nerve to explain to them every single thing. But with you it was different. He could talk for hours, if that means that he has a pretty girl like you sitting there and listen to him.

One part of him felt bad, being attracted to you. You looked like in your early 20s, wasn‘t that okey for him to think about you that way. If he didn’t saw the way you looked at him, he would leave you alone, treat you like a every other customer. But the way you were sitting there concentrating on what to say while he could most certainly see the way your mind slipped away and thought about other things. The little glimpses on his arms and crotch, the lip biting. Desperate and sweet.

That‘s how he liked them.

„Yea, the one where you tell me what kind of wood I have to use, what the names of your family members are.“

Those pretty eyes turned confused once more, his amusement growing every second as you nervously tapped with your leg and cheeks flushing to a deeper red tone. He tried not the break eye contact, he wanted to see you.

You were embarrassed. Embarrassed because you absolutely didn‘t know anything about all of this and you felt like he was making fun of you in his mind or teasing you. The way his smirk not once let up, his intimidating gaze never leaving you.

„Didn‘t do your homework, huh?“ he chuckled.

„No, no. I‘m sorry. Have absolutely no idea what your talking about.“

„S‘okey. Here, this is basswood.“ he took a piece of wood and showed it to you. „S‘a little bit lighter than the other ones. I also have cherry. It‘s darker and can get very pretty brown in the end like this.“

He saw the way your eyes widened as he showed you something carved out of cherry wood. It was absolutely pretty, glossy and looking smooth. The color was beautiful just the way he said it.

„So I suppose, cherry will it be, huh?“ he asked just more amused, finding your reaction cute.

„Yes, cherry. Please.“ and so polite you were, he couldn‘t possibly let you go like this could he?

Normally this was it, after you tell him the names and the wood you want he‘ll had to let you go and make an appointment for next week, where you look at the process and tell him if he needs to do any changes.

But he couldn‘t let you out of his store, not yet. He was selfish, wanting to keep you for himself. It was weird developing a quite possessiveness over you, to a stranger he just met 20 minutes ago. He was out of his mind.

„Okey, then i‘ll make a quick sketch and you‘ll wait here to tell me if it looks like your imagination.“ A lie.

Joel was already more than experienced that he didn‘t even need to sketch anymore. You just nodded your head, no clue about everything and thinking that it just how he works. It wasn‘t a problem for you to stay longer in his shop either. You liked watching him. His lips puckering, whenever he blowed the dust away that was sitting on his table, His big rough hands that looked like he worked them out, no signs of softness. And his pretty curls always moving whenever he moved too.

Your eyes kept moving to his crotch, unbeknownst to yourself even. It wasn‘t something you were used to, you didn‘t know yourself to be this dirty.

The way he patiently explained everything to you made you less embarrassed but intrigued. While you could not get many words out and were nervous under his gaze, you wanted know things about him, so he could talk to you with that raspy and warm voice he had.

„How long have you been doing this?“ Bingo. That‘s what he wanted.

Joels left eyebrow arched as he stopped with whatever he was doing and looked over to you. Legs crossed, hands on your lap, cheeks flushed.

„S‘been like 5 years. Have always done this as a hobby, now I can do it as a business.“

„Wow, that‘s really great. These things are really beautiful, I wish I could also do something like this.“ you wished more that he didn‘t notice the way you had absolutely no idea what the say and how to speak. Asking him was a bold move, you could‘ve just waited until he said something. Oh, but joel noticed. That little stutter and uncertainty in your voice. He was holding himself back from not to chuckle, not to coo at your words. So fucking sweet were you.

„Why, bet you can do also all sorts of stuff.“ he answered, turning his head to the sketch again, awaiting your response, hearing a sigh coming from your lips.

„No, not things like that unfortunately. I don‘t really have anything that I can dedicate myself to.“ it was a tad bit embarrassing to say, basically admitting that you can‘t do anything creatively, or sports wise, or anything else wise when you‘re honest.

„Nonsense. Took me 50 years to realise I can do this. You‘ll find something, I promise, sweetheart.“ he said softly. The pet name he gave you turned your insides to mush, you didn’t except that in any way, it made you almost dizzy, your heartbeat just continued being fast, the tension in the room almost suffocating you.

„50? How old are you?“ bold. So fucking bold.

Joel didn‘t mind that it was bold, in fact, he thought it was cute how slowly and surely you grew to be comfortable in asking him questions. That‘s what he wanted, an conversation with you.

„62. Pretty old to be in business still, huh?“ he joked.

Your eyes widened, you would‘ve never excepted him to be this old. And you didn‘t mean to show it to him, your surprised face and then the slow realisation that you are thirsting over someone who is older than your dad hit you.

With the quick look of his eye, he chuckled, seeing you with wide open eyes.

„No—no. S‘not that old.“

„Not that old, huh? S‘the first time i‘m hearing that.“ Your cheeks flamed up again, a sudden urge to just stand up and walk away came over you. You looked down on the ground, not even wanting to see that smug smirk on his face that you were sure he put on.

You excepted him to say something do something but— a loud sound.

His phone was ringing and he abruptly put down his pen and answered the phone. With the silence of the shop you heard a female voice just faintly talking to him. Was that his wife?

His call ended with him saying ‚love you‘.

„Your wife?“ What the hell are you thinking?

„Daughter. Not having a woman by my side.“ he nodded. Like he was giving you permission. Permission to let those dirty thoughts about him continue, like he was telling you that you can check him out.

And he knew what kind of rollercoaster you were going trough. He knew how he was embarrassing you, but for him it was the cutest fucking thing to see. The prettiest pink on these cheeks, soft skin fingers playing with the hem of your sweet small dress. Heck, he wanted that you get more bolder and start asking even more questions.

„You got someone?“

„Huh?“

„A boyfriend?“ And maybe he wanted permission too.

„Oh, no. No.“ he didn‘t pick up the pen to continue instead sat there watched you. With a slight nod of his head, he run his hand trough his hair.

„Pretty girl like you really don‘t have any boyfriend?“

You didn‘t say anything, nervously swallowed. He just looked at you, observed you, his eyes going up and down your body. You should just look away, even walk away. But you couldn‘t. Everything in the background blurred together as you silently held eye contact with him.

There was this little moment where your lips opened like you wanted to say something but couldn‘t, making his body slightly shift like he was waiting for an answer. And as the small voice in him started to tell him that the question was too much, made you uncomfortable, but your eyes slowly moved from his head to his crotch. And as that wasn‘t surprising enough you took it one step further.

„Old man like you riling up for a young girl like me?“

This time it was his turn to feel embarrassed and be silent. This time it was his turn to feel like he said too much and nothing at once, awkward. His pretty brown eyes widened, but not for too long and he started to smirk again, that smirk turning into a chuckle as he gently put down his glasses, head shaking.

„Apparently you do got a mouth on you, huh?“ he suddenly got up, the heat between your legs now getting unbearable because he knew what was going on and rather than throwing you out of his shop, he played along.

He walked to the door, taking his keys and locking the door. For a second you really thought he was going to throw you out of his shop, but he didn‘t. The wooden floor under his footsteps made cracking sounds as he slowly came to you. One by one, while intensely looking at you. And by standing right in front of you, his bulge right in front of your face, looking up his frame was more massive than you originally thought.

Your tights squeezed together, looking up to him, waiting for him to do something. With those pretty doe eyes he was hardly containing himself. He knew he had to go slow, tease you, if you wanted something from him he had to make you get it.

Breath hitching as his big hand neared your face, landing on your chin, pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger. Obedient.

He parted your lips. Slowly eased two fingers into your warm mouth. Your head was spinning, not breaking eye contact as you slowly closed your lips around him, his jaw was clenched as he watched you intensely. The salty taste of his fingers filling your mouth, he was deep, pulled them out and filled you back in. A whine left your throat making him smile.

You were a good girl. Polite girl.

He pulled his fingers out, making you almost beg to put them in again. The throbbing, pulsing and soaking between your legs were driving you to be bold, grabbing his hand and trying to put his fingers back in again but he pulled away. Hearing him laugh low as he sat down on his chair again. But this time leg spread even wider, his body turned to you and he just looked at you.

While your heart pounded the nervousness left you, making you feel needy. And the way everything turned into this scenario didn‘t made any sense and how it escalated made your blood pump higher. You still devoted yourself to it, you wanted him. There was something aching for him, something deep down, wanting to be filled. You wanted him to take care of you.

His eyes went down his lap, bulge, signalising you something. The new found boldness surprised you once more as you sneakily got on your knees, slowly crawling to him. You sat there between his legs, his face was pleased, you looked up to him, expecting something, but he didn‘t speak.

Joel was enjoying the show. S‘been way too many years since a pretty girl like you did what he told her to do. Way too many years for him to take it slow, enjoy it, tease you even tho he saw the unbearable need behind your eyes. But he couldn‘t bring it over his heart to make you, nervous little thing, take him into your mouth.

Looking up to him with those unsure eyes, trying to act bold—you couldn‘t fool him. Even tho his cock was throbbing inside his jeans, aching for your mouth.

You were unexperienced and he knew that, got them all in their knees, taking his cock whenever he opened his legs in the past. But now he had to be careful, you didn‘t understand what he wanted.

And as he felt your mouth around his fingers he was most certain that you couldn‘t take his cock into your mouth, he was big and you unexperienced.

But he couldn‘t let you down like this could he? Inexperienced or not, he saw the way you bit your lips looking at his bulge. Those desperate eyes. Oh how much he would love for you to take his cock into your mouth.

Instead of unbuckling his belt, he thrusted his fingers into your mouth again. Taking you by surprise but you couldn‘t help but moan around it.

„S‘the only thing you get, ain‘t ready for cock yet.“

Your eyebrows furrowed as you swiftly pulled your mouth away from his fingers, looking up to him with confusion.

„M‘not a virgin, I swear. Been fucked once.“

And he fucking laughs. The abrupt laughter fills the silence ridden room, his voice all raspy, like he had one too many cigarettes, throwing his head back and slapping his knee.

„Once.“ he mocked you, once again the embarrassment washing over you. But you also couldn‘t help with feeling more aroused, his amusement on you being inexperienced.

„S‘a mans cock baby. A bit harder to take down your pretty little throat and to stuff your cunt with. Ain‘t having the time to teach you that shit.“

With that he stuffed your mouth once more with his thick fingers, pumping them in and out making your eyes roll back. He was being mean and in that moment but you didn‘t give a single fuck. You just felt the pleasure between your legs and his fingers in on top of your tongue.

You just took everything he gave you.

While on your knees the ache between your legs was too much to handle, you started to buck your hips up and down, the material of your panties making you release some friction, but it wasn‘t enough.

You were sucking and suckling around his fingers like there was no tomorrow and desperately humping down on the ground. The humiliation was forgotten, you wanted to be fucked. You looked so utterly fucked. Eyes squeezed shut as you enjoyed suckling on his fingers, tits moving up and down, little whines and moans leaving your mouth.

Joel was about to cum in his pants.

„Fuck, there you go.“ he smiled, his other hand coming to your chin collecting the drool that left your mouth and smearing it on your dress, giving your right tit a tight squeeze, making you whine his name incomprehensible between his fingers.

At this point your cunt was soaking, dripping down your thighs. And the agonising five minutes of sucking his fingers and humping basically nothing you came back to your senses now pulling away and begging him.

„Please—please, just. Just do something—please.“ your babbling made him coo, his dry hand coming on top of your head and stroking your hair.

„What am I supposed to do, hm? If you were fucked more than once baby, i would‘ve spread you there, cunt out and fucked you throughly. Don‘t wanna break you in half.“

„No, no— no. Please. Joel, please.“ you shook your head, giving him the best puppy eyes possible, trying to be as obedient as possible.

Been so long, since he had a needy little thing begging for him to fuck her. And even if he wanted to so badly, he knew you couldn‘t take it and his heart couldn‘t take you hurting.

He suddenly stood up, with a grunt grabbed you by the arms and carried you somewhere. You yelped, excepting everything but not this.

You saw a little couch, it was hidden back in his shop, besides some shelves and of course—wood.

His grip on your arm was hard and his breath coming irregular as he finally sat you down on it. He pushed you down the couch, putting a soft cushion behind your head so it was prompt up.

You didn‘t know what he was up to, you just wanted him to fuck you and the position he put you in definitely looked like he wanted to fuck you.

And as he spread your legs gently, pulled down your wet panties, it was more then evident that he was going to fuck you. A rush of adrenaline went trough you again; clenching around nothing, awaiting him to do something.

„prettiest fuckin‘ pussy i‘ve ever seen.“ he murmured, softly spreading your lips revealing your sweet little clit, aching to be touched, pulsing by itself. The cool air hit your cunt, your breathing coming in short. His thumb gently touched your nub, taking his time, rubbing you slowly. Releasing a whine, you laid your head back looking at the ceiling. Joel was concentrating on the way your cunt was reacting to his touch. Sweet hole releasing gush after gush, while your clit throbbed under his thumb. This is what he wanted, seeing you break under his touch, ask for more, be a good girl.

„Please.“ you softly whispered to him, his eyebrows furrowing, he looked at you. Shaking his head.

„Just the tip. Givin‘ you just the tip.“

And you didn‘t had the energy to argue against that, you wanted him as a whole, wanted to feel him. But in this moment again, you took everything he gave you.

Finally you heard his belt unbuckling, jeans hitting the ground, revealing his thick and angry cock to you. A whine left your lips, desperately wanting to kiss him better. The throbbing tip, pre cum releasing slit and his shaky shaft.

He took his cock into his hands and slowly jerked himself up and down, squeezing the tip, taking bit of the leaked from his tip on his finger and rubbed it on your mouth, making you lick it clean. And finally he pushed into you. His head going into your cunt, pausing quickly without pushing the rest of his shaft. While you whined around, already starting to move your hips, he squeezed the flesh on your hip and made you stop.

„didn‘t tell you shit about fucking you either. This or nothing, stay still.“

While your cunt gushed around his head, clenching down and your hips not trying to move you were on the verge of tears because of the frustration.

„Oh poor sweet baby. Ain‘t nothing like old mans cock huh? Already got you on the verge of cummin‘.“ and he was right. His thumb returned with your nub, rubbing once and twice before the orgasm hit you. His tip leaving your cunt, as your legs shook, your mouth dropped open and finally the sweet release washed over you. He made sure to ride out of your orgasm by gently stroking your clit.

„That‘s it, that‘s it little one. Was a good one, yeah?“ He nodded, looking into your fucked out eyes as you came down and nodded your head also. The way you reacted to his touch, so easy, so sweet. Not needing any more work other than having his tip in your cunt and thumb pressed on your nub.

„Fuck me. Can handle it. I promise, promise.“ begging, begging and begging.

„I don‘t know, sweets. Looking like this cunts not gonna take more than the tip, what if we just stay with just the tip, huh? Cum for me one more time and I can release my cum in you, maybe that‘ll make you feel full, yea?“

You were whining. Shaking your head from left to right. Begging.

„No, no— no. Please, just fuck me. Just do it, please.“

And as fate wanted joel had enough and completely pushed himself into you. His grith filling you like you have never felt before, your cunt feeling full and finally relieved.

Joel didn‘t let up, didn‘t make you get used to that feeling, of splitting you in two. He started fucking you. In a gentle but hard rhythm. His hips not even once stopping as you laid under this old man, while he continually pumped his cock into you. Finding that sweet spot of yours and focusing in on hitting it every time.

All the while he held eye contact with you, but you couldn‘t concentrate. Eyes rolling back, squeezing shut and avoiding his gaze.

„C‘mon sweetheart, m‘giving you what you want. The least you can do is look me into my eyes.“

He rasped. His breathing was heavy on top of you, his curls bouncing around. You felt his cock in your cunt pulse.

„Knew you were a good girl, knew it baby. Taking it like a champ. Was wrong about you huh? Pretty—cunt wrapped around me so—fucking—well.“

„Mhm—t-told ya. Told ya.“ you whimpered out, already feeling yourself getting clo— and he pulled out.

You released a whine, your fist banging on his chest repeatedly as your cunt pulsed and pulsed around nothing. His head was bent, he was watching your cunt and suddenly he grabbed you once more on the arm and laid you beside, crawling behind you on the couch. His hand then moved to your thighs, opening it and putting it over his leg, so his cock has access to your cunt.

A wet kiss was left on your temple and you heard him loudly breathing in your ear.

„gonna fill you up, pretty girl, s‘that clear? Wanna see it dripping out of you when i‘m done with you.“ he softly whispered and you nodded your head desperately.

„Want me to rub your pretty little clit, or you wanna try cumming without?“ He asked you, cock slowly entering you, stuffing you full once more. His thrusts started slowly as he waited for a response, leaving sweet small kisses around your neck and temple.

„Rub, please.“

„Oh, sweet girl. Made you so desperate and teased you so bad, am I not a bad old man, huh?“ his voice was soft like he was lulling you to sleep. Just like his thrusts, met the right spots but slowly left your cunt and slowly went in again, while rubbing gently on your clit. The atmosphere changing, his sweet talk was getting in your head.

„cumming—please.“ you whispered.

„Yeah? Good, baby. C‘mon then, I got you.“ he gave your temple one last kiss, as his thrusts slowly started to become more sloppy and quick, deep groans leaving his mouth. His thumb sped up rubbing you just right as you bit down the pillow underneath you and came all over his dick.

„There we go, let it all out.“

He thrusted into you a few more times, making you ride out your orgasm. Your legs already giving up and closing as he hold your thigh up as best as he could, releasing all that he had into you. His thumb stilling on your clit, he thrusted one more time as he slowly filled you, feeling the regular spurts in you.

As you laid there both, exhausted, but peaceful, you came back to your senses and realised what happened. Something so innocent turned so dirty, so fast. And with someone who was older than your dad.

His soft cock slid right out of you. His cum and your release already mixing and dripping down your thigh. He gently scooped it up, holding it in front of your mouth one last time and you took it, gently cleaning him, earning a soft little peck on your forehead. He stood up, putting his jeans back on and put a blanket over you, stroking your hair.

„Gonna work on your gift now. Can tell me if it‘s looking good when ya wake up again.“

Oh my gawd straight to horny jail🤭🤭

Thank you so much for 700 followers, its crazy. Thank you for reading my fics🫶🏻🫶🏻

Keep in mind, english is not my first language so feedback or any correction of mistakes are very welcome

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[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

ch 10. ordinary

pairing: raider!joel x fem!reader

rating: 18+ explicit MDNI

summary: you and joel start your long drive to wyoming. smut.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/late 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink (mostly just earlier chapters shut it down in the later chapters), unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, softdom!Joel, angst, self-deprecation, dacryphilia, substance abuse, anxiety & ptsd

ch. 10 - 6.6k words

a/n: hey guys, sorry this has taken me so long. i put a lot of effort on improving my writing, so i hope you like it. cranked up the romance for this one. changing up the photo aesthetic for each ch. from here on out, will probably update old chs. too. new tags added. very hurriedly edited. i listened to ordinary by alex warren and stranger by ethel cain while writing this.

masterlist | Ao3 | my booktower | wuac playlist @orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman

One month later.

You watched Bill and Frank wave their goodbyes through the old Chevy’s side view window, blurry and speckled black with age, an unpolished remnant of the past. The men you’ve grown to care about stood by the greenhouse, looking more like gnomes than people the further you drove away. You quietly whispered goodbye to the freshly built wooden structure and the rickety old house with the grand piano, silently wishing that you’d see it again someday, feel the smooth, ivory white keys under your fingertips once more. 

Should you ever return to Texas, you knew that you’d be welcome to visit again. Maybe Joel too. Even though he had never apologized for what had happened–for trying to steal the Chevy–but you knew that rebuilding the greenhouse was his way of showing he cared. Even if he was grumpy about it, mumbling and grumbling with every placement of the wooden beams and each slam of his hammer nailing them into place, his lips still curled into a subtle smile when the final piece came together. You barely caught him too, Joel smiling, and if you hadn’t being paying attention to him, hadn’t had your eyes locked onto his every move, you’d have missed it, missed an event as rare as watching a monarch land and suckle on the sweet nectar of a goldenrod right in front of your very eyes. 

The little town came into view, ghosts from the past haunting it with shop signs that were still flipped to “open”, cars parked in front of expired meters, cups and plates perfectly placed on the patio tables. 

When you passed the pharmacy, you remember when Frank had helped you pick out prenatal vitamins. You were surprised that it was still well stocked, not just with vitamins but with antibiotics and painkillers too, but Frank just shrugged and said something about how the whole town had been evacuated right away, and that Bill hadn’t even seen an infected person before–which explained a lot.

Bill had a hidden softness to his nature, something he concealed with a thorny coat of armor. Joel said it was Frank that made him weak, but you don’t believe that’s the origin of Bill’s kindness, nor did you think his kindness made him naive. The second they found out you were carrying, Bill offered for you to stay there with them indefinitely. The offer extended to you and the baby, not Joel. Bill even proposed to kill Joel if he had been abusing you, and he looked almost disappointed when you insisted that it wasn’t like that and that you really needed them to not kill each other because it wasn’t good for your pregnant nerves.

The thought made you smile now, knowing that you had a friend you could count on. You don’t know if you’ve ever had a real friend before, not until these last few months. Joel gripped the steering wheel, sleeves rolled up to reveal the bulge of his biceps, shirt nearly bursting at the seams as he turned left into the town. The truck rolled to a stop, the sound of a nearly four-decades old engine chugging away as it gurgled on ancient oil and coughed out a cloud of black smoke.  A tree blocked the road, cracked and splintered, left to decay.

Joel popped his door open and slid out of his seat. “Need a hand?” 

He grunted. “Nah, just wait here. It’ll only take me a minute.” 

Your gaze landed on the window of the cafe, passed weathered letters painted on the glass. Myla’s Cafe. Inside was a table with a high-chair still decorated with a bottle of milk that’s long since curdled and crusted over. Something lurched in your chest seeing the little chair, a beautiful wooden finish still visible even under the thick layer of dust and grime. Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like that? To have a little dining room, in a little house, and live there with Joel and your baby?

Thoughts of how your parents' marriage turned out quickly darkened your thoughts, scribbling ugly black ink over the little family portrait your mind mistakenly created.

If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a happy relationship is a choice as much as it is a privilege. Life can throw its worst lemons, sour a marriage and set it up for failure–whether that rotten lemon is sickness, poverty, hunger, an apocalypse… the chance to squeeze through life’s obstacles and–not be reduced to pulp–is rare.

Right now, the lemon was a fucking apocalypse. It stunk, the shriveled up, modly thing that it was and you’d have to be insane to pretend that it didn’t. 

Besides, this little marriage charade between you and Joel wasn’t going to last. The two of you have only slept together, like sleep sleep, maybe twice now. Sure, you’d fucked more than that, let him have his way with you, sweet talked you into fucking him on the kitchen counter when Bill and Frank were out on another Home Depot run. The butcher block tattooing the underside of your thighs with swirly prints, a keepsake just as much as Joel’s spend, dripping down your legs like sweet syrup. 

When the disappointment of him not coming to your bedroom at night started to loom over you like a ghost, you had to remind yourself that he knocked you up and that was the end of the story. You were not a couple. You were probably just a convenient fuck for him until something better came along. When found wherever Joel’s brother was, and there’d be more people, women, maybe he’d find another one to knock up to fill out his end-of-the-world bingo card of getting twenty-something’s pregnant in some twisted repopulation plan. 

It’s not that you thought Joel was a bad man. No. You saw the good in him, could feel it every day when he’d made sure you had enough to eat, sleep, drink, and more. Felt it in the way he protected you from the horrors of the world. He was taking you somewhere he thought was safe, for you and your baby, even if it meant he was just dropping you off, and then would clap his hands together and be on his merry way.

Or worse.

“Men will do one of two things. One: They’ll leave you for the next hottest thing. Someone younger that makes him feel like he’s got the world in his palm.” Mom had said, not long before that fateful day, smoking a pack of old Marlboro Reds. Long gone was her beautiful hair, like rolling hills of blonde silk in every wave, now replaced with a washed out gray that stuck to her face in flat, oily strands. Her face had fallen, not just from age, but from the permanent look of despair that had settled in her cheeks, her jaw, the bags of her eyes that sunk downward, making her eye sockets look nearly hollow, a hundred year old tree with rotten cavities. “Or they’ll stay, and resent your for it.” 

She had laughed as she said it, smoke fogging her nostrils briefly before being vacuumed right back in. It sent her in a violent coughing fit, a grating, sharp shrill that scratched your eardrums in all the wrong ways.

That was her response when you told her you had been asked on a date by a boy from school. At first, she scowled. Maybe it had been silly to hope for a better life than her. You were her daughter after all, her blood, there has to be something written in the books that a daughter doesn’t outearn her mother. You wondered if you’d look like her when you were older, if your face would be sculpted with the same look of misery, and if God–or whatever entity was responsible for your fate–was planning to reach down and brush a thumb over your jaw like a clay artist leaving his mark to create a series of pieces called ‘Those Less Fortunate.’

Some say those of you that survived were the lucky ones. You triumphed against all odds and lived decades passed that fateful day. But you knew better than to believe in that. You were not the lucky ones, not by an inch, a yard, or a mile. Those who walked the earth today were cursed to live the rest of their lives in fear of what is to come and forever mourn what once was, like a widow trapped in the echo of loss.

Western Texas blurred by, mostly dirt landscape with speckles of prickly brush and dead tumbleweeds. “You listenin’?” A husky voice asked.

“Sorry, what?” Joel probably wasn’t used to you being this quiet, but lately it was getting harder and harder to avoid getting lost in your thoughts.

Joel rattles his head, looking more amused than annoyed. “You ready for your driver’s lesson yet?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Driving would be a good way to distract you, keep your mind off of things that only bog you down. 

“Thought you liked bein’ a passenger princess is all, darlin’.”

You slide out of the truck, leaning against the door, letting your hands dangle over the open window. “I hope you’re a better driving instructor than you are a film teacher. You haven’t even bothered to host a class for like a month. Pretty sure classes are supposed to be once a week.”

“Ah shit, I forgot about that.” His face falls, hands rubbing down his features in regret.

“I’m just pullin’ your leg, Joel. It’s fine.” Seriously, it had only been a couple months since “school,” and if you were being honest, you didn’t remember until just a second ago. There’s been a lot more preoccupying your mind than studying for something that no longer exists, and likely never will again.

Joel stepped out of the truck, tracing the hood until he was at your side, big brown eyes locking with yours. A strong aroma of woodsmoke and pine made your heart leap. “No, it ain’t. I said I’d give you the school experience and I’m stickin’ to my word. We’ll start up classes again soon.”

There he goes again, being a good man. “Really. There’s no reason to learn about film right now. Stuff like that isn’t practical so it’s not worth our time.” 

“Don’t matter if it’s practical or not, it’s somethin’ you wanted to do so it’s worth doin’.”

The way he said it tugged at your inner child, the little girl that used to have dreams and aspirations. It was the last time you felt like anyone cared about what you wanted in life, even if all you wanted back then was a box of crayons, spaghetti-o’s, and a dog. “Okay.” You breathed, wispy tendrils of white fog dancing on your lips. “I guess it’s important for me to know these things. I mean, what if we ran into Harrison Ford and I didn’t recognize him?”

“Celebrities wouldn’t survive a normal day without fancy cars ‘n caramel macchiatos, you think they survived doomsday?”

“We’d be fools if we thought that none of them survived. Chances are, someone from your beloved Star Wars franchise is still among us, and in a weird way, it makes this whole shitshow feel a little bit more exciting. Like there’s a chance we could meet someone who was part of someone grand, something that still brings joy to people even today, even if it’s just in memory.” Star Wars actors didn’t mean shit to you since you never even saw the movies, but if you met someone who voice acted in The Lion King, there would be some part of you that would feel connected to your childhood and normal civilization, a world that bathed in entertainment.

“Just promise that our next lesson is about animated films, okay?” If he was offering to do something nice for you, you may as well make the most of it.

“Mmm. I promise. Now get in the dang driver’s seat and let’s teach you how to ride.”

The truck engine growled when your foot slammed onto the gas like a brick, lurching that old hunk of metal forward faster than it was probably ever meant to go even in it’s heyday.  

“Woah, easy there killer!” The tires screeched, both of your heads slamming into the headrests. 

A shy, lazy smile stretched across your lips. “Whoops… Sorry. It’ll take me some time to get used to keepin’ a constant speed. We didn’t exactly have driver’s ed in the QZ.” 

“Takes practice. None of us were born experts at anythin’, except me of course.” Joel teased. 

“You were a natural driver?” A young Joel Miller, probably younger than yourself right now, driving around Austin for the first time is hard for you to imagine.

“Passed my driver’s test in the first go.” 

“Lucky me, havin’ you as a teacher then.” Joel’s eyes meet yours, lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him and then coyly shift your focus to the road. ”Wish I could see a picture of you when you were young.”

“Probably have some at my house. Doubt anyone touched stupid shit like that, so if we’re ever back in Austin, we can go look.” You stepped on the accelerator again, easing into it this time like Joel said, but when your nearly rolled the car into an old, deflated tire smack dab in the center of the road, you came to another roaring halt. “‘M thinkin’ s’all the practice ya need for today. Gunna make me nauseous for once with all your jerkin’ the car around like it’s a damn bull in a rodeo.”

Rodeo.

The last time you were at a rodeo, Mom, Dad, and Gram were there too. Mom and Dad had bought you your favorite little white cowgirl boots with pink and yellow flowers stitched into the leather. 

“Howdy, Mama!” You said when Dad plopped a matching cowgirl hat on your head. Back then, your Texan accent was fresh. Thicker like Joel’s. It eventually faded when you mixed in with the QZ kids, all of them coming from different parts of the country. 

“Ain’t she the prettiest girl you ever seen?” Dad asked Mom, both of them shining with pride.

“She’s gonna make someone very lucky one day!” Mom said.

It was the last time you thought you saw both of them so full of life, just days before the sirens went off and the world went to rot, and with it the little version of you too, with the little white cowgirl boots, eating oatmeal raisin cookies with a toothy grin, and watching cartoons with Gram until you fell asleep.

Then life was all gray apartment walls, cold showers, old cereal, and the dull reality of surviving but not really living, like a dandelion that somehow manages to grow in between the cracks of a cement sidewalk, no real nutrients, not thriving. Just surviving in the oddest of circumstances. 

Mom slept half the day if she wasn’t working for ration cards. Smoking cigarettes until her lungs were dry. Dad came home smelling more and more like whiskey than he did like Dad. Sometimes he’d smell like the cheap, cloying perfume of some woman he met at the speakeasy.

The January air had a bite to it that nipped at the flesh of your arms through the cracked window, but you liked the air. You never liked being indoors for too long, stuffed and crated like a rat in a box. You loved the sun, basking in its warmth as it beamed through the glass and sat in your lap like a golden blanket. Joel made passing comments about how booty shorts weren’t exactly the best armor for trekking across Western America, but the baby was making your blood run hot at all times so you’d rather wear as little as possible. 

“S’not the QZ, darlin’. There’s snakes ‘n shit out here, especially now that there ain’t many people to scare ‘em off. Rattlesnakes ain’t somethin’ you wanna mess around with. It’ll take me too damn long to find a pharmacy to get you the antivenom, and that's if there’s any left in the first place.” He was driving now while you sat in the passenger seat, legs kicked up on the dash.

“That’s what the boots are for.” A smile ghosted your lips as you thought about the white cowgirl boots with the little pink flowers all those years ago. These ones you found were a muddied brown, but you knew as soon as you and Frank found them in the boutique that you had to have them. “It’s not like we’re goin’ to Wyoming on foot, for God’s sake. Quit being such a bore.”

Joel jutted his chin at your new boots. “Where’d ya even get those?”

“Frank gave them to me. I thought you’d like them on me since booty shorts were in style once upon a time. Back in your day–when you were supposedly loads of fun.” 

“You are somethin’ else.”

“Oh please. Bet you had lots of girls in tight little shorts hangin’ around before.” There’s an undetectable strain in your voice. If amplified and inspected by those privy to vocal sound, you’d hear the hint of jealousy. Before. What did you mean by before? Before the end of the world? Before you a few months ago? It was a matter of the past that tugged at your heart, but whether or not the past set a precedent for the future, if it meant that before would become another now. 

You were itching to ask him so much more than that too, but it wasn’t easy to say, Hey, how come you don’t sleep with me? Is it because you feel like you are taking advantage of me? Is it because I’m too young? Too old? Are you bored of me? Are we together?

Are you going to leave me too? Leave… us?

That would just make you needy.

Joel shook his head. 

The words sat on your tongue like a bad aftertaste, a fuzzy, cloying fur on your tongue, the kind that you get from second hand smoke. “Guys, then?” You arched a brow in his direction, stifling an innocent giggle and covering up your anxious stench with the scent of lighthearted jokes. Men love it when women smile. They don’t love it when you’re melancholic.

Joel pulled the truck into a little dirt clearing, muscles moving in his arm as he shifted the gear into park. A smiled tug at his lips that made heat blossom in your chest, flushing away the anxiety, a whirlpool of brown water swirling down a dark drain. 

“Nah, it ain’t that. Was the skirts f’me. I always liked short denim miniskirts. Dunno why–think ‘cuz it left little to the imagination and it was easy access.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as images of Joel having his way with you while you wore nothing but a little denim skirt and a tank top flush against your skin. His heedy thrusts into your cunt, skirt bunched up in his fists to grant him entrance, voice hot in the shell of your ear as he praised you endlessly. 

“I’ll have to be on the lookout for one of those next time, then.” You smoothed your hands down the bare skin of your thighs, Joel’s eyes following the path, shifting in his seat. 

“Think what you’ve got now does the job just fine.” A muscle worked in his jaw, and then his calloused hand was wrapped around your delicate wrist like a cuff. “Come’re.” He ushered as he hopped out of the truck, leaving you alone in the silence of the cab. You unbuckled your seatbelt and followed him to the truck bed, curiously listening to the hawk-like screech of antique metal hinges rubbing together as he unlatched the door. He hoisted you onto the bed, and then eased himself up along with you, his knees protesting at the latter. Then he was next to you, shoving the stockpile of goodies–gifts this time–from Bill aside. All that remained was an old quilt and a few pillows.

“We goin’ to bed already?” It had been a long drive from the house, probably eight hours or so. You weren’t even sure if you were still in Texas or not but you heard that a good portion of the southwest pretty much looked the same. Dirt, dirt, and more dirt. Shrubs that looked more like the pubic hairs of bushes, wiry and dry, like their souls had been sucked out of them and some essence of life still clung on. Another dandelion in the crack.

Joel lighting squeezed your waist, sending a rush of emotions swirling through your veins. “Look.” Joel’s deep voice beckoned, his touch nudging your body to face the other way, like a powerful ocean wave guiding you back toward the beach.

Oh.

The sun was nestled behind the mountains, a yellow splash of bright lemonade with vibrant strips of Twizzler red lining the horizon, casting a rosy pink glow that dulled to a soft, soothing lavender. 

“You know, behind that tough and grumpy layer, you’re way more romantic than you let on. Diner dates with milkshakes and cherries. Now we’re watchin’ the sunset in the bed of your truck.” Your legs dangle over the trailgate, brown boots scuffing against each other as you kick your feet back and forth. 

“Our truck.” He corrected. “Wouldn’t have been mine at all if it wasn’t for you. They never woulda let me at it and you know it–we both know it. Don’t think there’s a single person left on this planet who knows me and wouldn’t agree with that.” 

Our truck.

It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to ask for him to say it again. “Yeah, probably not. You can be a bit of an asshole, but what cowboy isn’t one… at least a little? It’s kind of the allure.” Something sultry crept into your tone, inviting, tempting Joel's primal instincts to come out to play.

“You woulda loved old Western films then.” Joel breathed, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear, subconsciously sweeping his palm along your spine, up and down, soothing your nerves. “Wish I coulda taken you to the drive-ins to watch one with me. You have me rememberin’ how much I miss shit like that.” 

“Drive-ins?” You read your fair share of books, which was whatever the QZ had in stock, so you feel like you’ve missed out when you realized how limited your knowledge of life before was. 

“‘S exactly what you think it is. People took their cars–trucks or SUVs usually–and drove into a big outdoor theater. There was a concession stand with food, popcorn and candy–Twizzlers. Fresh ones, not the stale rocks you’ve been eatin’.” Joel raised a brow at you. “And we’d camp out in the bed of my truck, just like this.” 

You didn’t miss his mention of we, wondering who we referred to during that period of his life. Certainly not someone that he’s divulged to you. He said he wasn’t a widow, said he didn’t have anyone he lost, so the only person that would leave was his brother, but you couldn’t really imagine that’s something he’d do with Tommy, but what did you know? You didn’t even know what the drive-ins were until a few seconds ago.

“That sounds… really nice actually. Is that what’s next on your list of romantic dates?”

“What do ya want to be next?” It was impossible not to fall into the world inside Joel’s eyes, to watch the sun sink into the horizon, a bright orb sinking into chocolate brown lakes.

“Hmmm. I dunno–surprise me.” Joel’s hand stilled on your back, and you wondered if he could feel the thump of your heart, fluttering against your ribs, a lonesome caged bird begging to be released and held and loved. 

Could he sense your desperation?

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

“Umm, yeah. Just been a little worried I guess.” Maybe you weren't as good at masking your feelings anymore, the way you had learned to after all these years. You were losing your touch around this man, letting him unwrap you like a box of candy and sucking you dry.

His face was etched with concern, brows folded inward so that the skin on his forehead, right above the bridge of his nose, crinkled together. You always thought it was cute. “What’ve you been worried about?” 

The words were caught in your throat, thick, slimy, grating against your palette. How could you tell him your biggest fears? You already told him the first time, that you were afraid of him leaving you, and it didn’t bode well. You’ll never forget the look of contempt on his face like you accused him of something he hadn’t even done. And now it somehow felt worse, because you were faced with the stark realization that you had been stupidly falling for him. You didn’t just need him, you craved him. The thought of losing his touch made you feel hollow and empty, like the fluttering bird in your ribcage had been left to wither and die. 

“Just worried about the baby. Wonderin’ what kind of life she’s–they’re gonna have. Sometimes I can see the life I want for them, but other times it feels like a faroff fantasy when the reality is, this world will try to devour their soul at every corner.” A half-baked truth, because you were worried about the baby, but you were also worried about how you and Joel would fit into their life.

“Listen to me.” He rested his palm on your cheek and smoothing the pad of this thumb across your skin, and it was in that exact moment that you knew you were absolutely fucked. That the chokehold this man had on you was not something you could easily shake out of, the way his eyes looked at you, hungry, wanting. “You don’t gotta worry about that. Let me do the worryin’.”

“But–”

“No buts.” You felt your clit pulse at proximity of his lips to yours. The aroma of woodsmoke and pine, fused with an underlying scent of roasted coffee beans–a smell you’ve grown accustomed to love, to be drawn to the way the tides are pulled by the moon. You would drink it yourself if the damn thing wasn’t such a rarity, just for the sake of having something that reminded you of Joel, to feel him with you always, his scent on your skin, your tongue…

The satisfying scratch of a calloused thumb grazed your lips, dipping into your mouth to wet the tip of his pad and nail and then smeared the saliva across your bottom lip until it shined pink. “Pretty girl,” he cooed. “Too damn pretty.” He barely finished his sentence, too drawn to your plush lips, his tongue sliding against yours, a gravelly groan pouring into your mouth like thick honey. 

His palm circled around the base of your neck, a gentle pressure, not enough to make you choke, but just enough tightness to taste his strength, just the way you like. And you loved that he knew that, could sense it in the way you’d whine and he’d respond with a satisfied growl. Your lashes fluttered upward, cheeks feeling hot, eyes begging as you met his gaze. “I’ve missed you.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Joel purred against your lips. “Let me make ya feel good. Will you let me do that f’you?”

“Yes, yes I want you.” The delicious scratch of his beard bristles on your sensitive skin felt like heaven, the only burn this world could sear you with that felt satisfying. He was sucking on your neck, tongue lapping at your skin with fervent need. His cock was impossibly hard, tenting the zipper of his faded denim jeans. “Can I make you feel good first?” Lashes fluttering again, flicking your gaze down to his cock and then back to his lips. “Wanna feel your cock in my mouth.”

Joel kissed you, tormenting your lips until they were red and swollen. “Yeah, baby. If that’s what ya want.” You nodded, biting your lip coyly. He watched with a hooded gaze as you unzipped his jeans, shuffling them far enough down for his cock to spring free as you wrapped a hand around his warm, veiny shaft. Saliva pooled in your mouth, pushing passed your lips as a long string of your wet ooze down like maple syrup onto his tip.

It only took one pump for him to fall under your spell. “Fuck…” The way he looked at you now made you feel like you were the center of the world, and it gave way for you to rub his cock again, pulling your name from his lips until he was begging for you, the angel that would take him to heaven. So you did, parting your lips around the tip and swallowing him inch by inch, nice and slow.

His salty taste felt good on your tongue, made you moan and suck him in further, as far as you could go and then some. Joel groaned, throaty and low, head leaning back against the side of the truck while you rolled your eyes affectionately. Lovingly. A gift from a woman to the man who had given her the moon and the stars, as if he’d hung them in the sky himself and offered it to her like a painting. And he had. Joel had given you everything that meant anything to you. He’d given you a baby. Hope. And with hope, you could make it through another day.

So you had to thank him for that, head bobbing on his cock as you took him in again and again, choking on his length with each downstroke but you didn’t care. Loved it, even. Being full of Joel, didn’t matter how or where, it made you feel complete. Like you belonged somewhere, with someone, for the first time in an achingly long while. 

His body tensed, muscles stiffening, and you knew he was close. “Where? Where, baby?” But you didn’t let up, responding instead with a sultry hum, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, guiding him to pure white bliss. There was a rich baritone erupting from his lungs in a feverish howl as he poured his load into your mouth in thick ropes, rough hand on the back of your neck drawing you into each sharp jerk of his hips.

“I loved that.” There was so much more you could say in your haze, that you wanted to feel the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue every morning and night, that the feel of him against your tongue soaked the fabric between your legs. With a lidded gaze, you removed your shirt, slowly peeling the thin cotton off of your glistening skin. You were completely bare for him while he was still nearly fully clothed. 

“Gotta give me a break first, darlin’... I ain’t as young as I used to be.” Joel said between ragged breaths, his cock now soft but long. He laid you down, peeling your shorts and panties off, back flush against the cool quilt, pressing into your thighs to spread you open, his breath fanning your folds. “Now ’s my turn. Fuck–you’re so beautiful.” He licked your slit in one long stroke, groaning into your folds at the first taste, like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever had. 

Joel ate you slowly, suctioning his lips around you, working your clit with his tongue until you screamed. He proceeded to lap at your little nub in long, torturous circles before lifting his head. “Who’s makin’ you feel like this, baby? Say it.” 

You wriggled your hips to try to get closer to his mouth again. “You, Joel–only you.” Tears blurred your vision, pleading, begging. 

“Good girl,” Joel praised. His tongue was on you again, swirling and flicking, reeling you dangerously close to the blissful shore. “I love–” Your heart thumped, eyes wide, waiting for the rest of the sentence to pour from his lips with as much eagerness as those waiting for the next prophet to share his prophecy. “I love how you taste.” There’s no sense in expecting him to love you, and for a moment you were ahead of yourself, letting you mind run wild again. So you buried it, acknowledged the thought and sent it on its way, instead sinking back into the blissful pressure of Joel’s lips. Anything that came from his lips, anything, was good. 

You ground your hips into his mouth, letting yourself forget everything outside of your life with him. He brought you to the edge, your body convulsing in ecstasy, the world a fuzzy white that clouded your vision. This time you were spent, legs trembling weakly, heart thumping violently as your chest rose and fell, slowing gradually as you came down from your high. Joel removed his jeans and boxers now, for the first time you saw him almost completely bare before you, his cock sprung with renewed interest. A bead of cum pooled at his tip, and the scent of him, sweat and salt, resurrected you from your post-sex daze.

The edge of the truck bed was cold metal against your heated palms as you straddled Joel’s lap. He lined with your entrance and then you sank down onto him in one slow stroke, lips forming an o at the delicious stretch of your walls around him, knowing full well that you’d still feel him in the morning. You always did.

Woodsmoke, pine, and roasted coffee beans swirled around you in gusts as you bounced on his lap. His head fell into your neck, kissing you in between heedy breaths. When you came down, Joel would thrust to meet you, hips crashing into yours. He was the moon again and you were the tide, destined by some unwritten force of nature to be commanded by his pull.

The pressure built between your legs, a thin rope threatening to snap. He could sense that you were at your limit, you could tell by the way he’d pull and flick your nipples between his fingers, groping your tits in between each tug. A secret button that only he knew about, one that would send just the right amount of tingles right down to your clit and bring you to an explosive end. When you screamed, Joel pumped into you violently, his other hand a bruising grip on your waist to drive his cock into you, hot cream pouring into your pussy.

The sound of Joel’s heartbeat and yours ringing in your ears slowed to a normal gallop when you finally lifted your hips from his lap, his cock sliding out, sticky white juice spilling out from between your legs. You laid together on the blanket, watching the stars sprinkle in the sky the darker it became. “I know I ain’t the best guy there is, but you make me wanna be. You make me wanna be a better man.” His voice rumbled in your ear, pressed to his chest.

“Joel, I know you killed people. You had to.”

Joel clicked his tongue. “Don’t think you understand the whole story. There’s… There’s things–I did things I ain’t proud of, darlin’. ‘N I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t.” He paused for a long while, and you almost thought he was going to end the conversation right there. “I used to have dreams at night. Now ’s always black. Part of me wonders if that’s the dream. ‘N empty void of nothing, punishment for all I’ve done.”

“Then tell me–your whole story. Maybe it’ll help you dream again.”

“It won’t.” Joel says curtly.

“Okay.” You knew better than to push Joel when there was something he wasn’t comfortable talking about. “Want to hear another wish I have?”

“‘Course.” 

“I want my own greenhouse just like Bill and Franks, where I can tend to my own garden as I please and grow food no matter the season. On a plot of land that has a little house with a chimney. And a dog named peanut butter. But we’d call him peanut for short.”

Joel laughed. “Peanut butter? ‘S a long name though. How about Jelly?” 

“I’m more of a peanut butter kinda girl.”

“I know you are.” You loved that he knew little things like that about you.

There was more to them, though. You didn’t just want a house. You wanted a house with him.

A dog with him. A life with him, and your baby, and you wanted to hear him say that he wanted you too and that it would always be the three of you as a family and never anything less. But something was holding him back. He had walls up. Things he wasn’t telling you and his reluctance was contagious, enough to remind you to keep yourself at a distance as well. 

This was the way life would be for your generation. The house with the white picket fence was always going to be a fantasy because the suffering and the loss was too great of an obstacle to endure for anyone to allow themselves that happiness again. To know true unity.

Still, there was a little, teensy spark of hope that you held close to you, absorbing its sweet heat like it was a small candle that just barely warmed your numb fingers. A whisper of a flame that wasn’t enough to fuel the cold caverns in your heart just yet. Maybe, just maybe, it could grow into something more. In Wyoming.

You were hesitant about it at first. Cautious. But ever since the two of you started this journey with Wyoming as your destination, you’ve had thoughts pour into your mind about what it’d be like there. Wide open fields with little to no infected roaming about. A place for you to set your roots down and grow, finally.

“You don’t have to make all of them come true, ya know?” 

“‘I know.”

“You’re a good man, Joel. I mean it, I’m not just pullin’ your leg again. I know you’ve done things you aren’t proud of, but I trust you with my life–with our baby’s life.” 

His body went rigid under your touch, but you were too sleep-ridden to think about it. You snuggled into him more, greedy for his warmth with your face buried into the crook of his neck. The weight of his arm wrapped around your waist felt like a belt securing you in place, keeping you tied down to this earth just as much as a tree’s roots kept it snug in the soil. Joel was safe. He wasn’t like other men–like the bad men that sucked the life out of anything that breathed.

When did your little crush turn into… this?

You were going to have to be okay when your life with him eventually came to an end. You were going to have to be okay if he lingered around, wherever it was you’d end up in Wyoming, and he wasn’t yours. You’d be fine, watching him with someone else while you tucked his kid in at night. Things were going to be just fine. For the sake of the baby growing inside of your womb, you had to be okay with what was going to inevitably come to an end. When you woke up in the middle of the night, Joel was gone again. 

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[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

A Cluster of Burning Stars - Chapter Ten

in which Amy gets a makeover

{ao3} {tumblr}

She’d been alone at the time. So, so, alone. She had a small room, with a tube to sleep in, a table and single chair in the corner, and a tiny bookcase with only three shelves. She could only barely read, and not the big words that were in these books, so sometimes she’d just pull out the two books that had pictures and stare at them, trying to figure out what they were supposed to represent. There were two doors, one that led to a tiny bathroom, and one that led to the outside and was always, always locked. On some days, the tall humans would come in through the door and take her to another room, where she’d be given a tool to play with, or a cold metal toy to break, or they’d tell her to run in place until it was time to go back to the room. 

She was good at running. She was good at fighting, too, and she was very, very good with her hammer, something that really seemed to interest them. She was good at puzzles, she found, when they gave them to her. They liked when she finished the puzzles quickly, but if she did it too quickly, they’d send her back, and she’d be alone and bored again. She started taking one of the more boring books and ripping out the pages, using them to fold into different shapes just to give her something to do. The one day, when she’d been so bored she’d started hitting the books against the wall to feel the vibrations it made, they finally dropped a few toys in her room. One was a tiny, non-harmful version of her hammer, and then there was a spinning top, and some kind of wheeled thing she didn’t recognize. She liked rolling it back-and-forth across the ground, though, and liked spinning the little fans that poked out of its… arms? Just last week, they’d given her a jar of wooden circle and poles that she was able to stick together into little towers, structures, and creations. She usually just used them to make new hammers. 

She was playing with it then, screwing a pole in-and-out of the same spool, thinking about nothing in particular. (She liked the spools and wheels, they reminded her of her shiny bracelets.) She heard a loud pounding of footsteps outside her room, but didn’t bother to look up. There’d been footsteps outside her room for the last hour or so, and nobody was bothering to stop for her. 

At least, until she heard a muffled, light voice saying, “I think this is it! Yes, see? Here’s the key-slot!” 

She blinked, confused at the unusual voice. She flicked her ear, looking up and towards the door as a second, also unfamiliar voice joined the first. 

“That doesn’t mean anything. A lot of things need keycards to open.” 

“Okay, but this is where the other hedgehog is s’possed t’be! It looks like the door to my room, too.” 

“All the doors look the same!” 

Both voices were much higher than the scientists. In fact, they sounded closer to her voice than any she’d heard before. Carefully, she put her toys down, getting to her feet and stepping slowly, very slowly, towards the doorway.

“Okay, you know what? Just pop us inside and we can see if it’s what we’re looking for.” 

“That’s not how it works!” 

“What do you mean that’s not how it works?” 

“If I don’t know where I’m teleporting, I need to have a basic idea of distance. There’s rooms in here with fifty-foot drops we could run into if we appear even a few feet off-target. Do you want to fall into nothingness and break all your bones?”

“Yes!” 

“No, no you don’t.” 

“Man. And I thought you were cool. What’s the point in being able to teleport if it has all these rules with it?” 

She made it to the door, close enough that her nose was brushing against the cold metal. She raised her ear some more, trying to focus very hard on the confusing conversation. 

“Okay, listen. We don’t have a keycard. I can try teleporting upstairs and swiping one from the break rooms, but those might be on lockdown.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you escaped.” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” 

“You’re not very smart, are you?” 

“Well, the doctors say that I’m not, so I guess that’s right.” 

“Look. I’ll see what I can do about getting a key. I was hoping you’d have a better plan than just ‘winging it,’ but…” 

That sounded like they were going to leave. She didn’t want them to leave, so she quickly reached out and pounded her hands on the door. Once, twice, thrice. She immediately felt bad about making so much noise, so she stumbled back, clasping her hands together to stop herself from doing it again. 

After a second, she heard the first voice speak up. “Yes! Did you hear that? There’s someone there!” 

“That could’ve been anything.” 

“There’s someone in there! We gotta get em out!” 

“Right, even if we assume someone’s in there, we still don’t have a–”

There was a sudden, heavy and incredibly loud slam against the door. She rocketed back, throwing her hands over her ears and shutting her eyes tight, breathing deep as she tried to ground herself. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m breaking the door down.” 

“You can’t just break the door down!” 

“Why not?” 

“Do you think these doors weren’t built to withstand whatever we can throw at them? They get reinforced every time I hit an above-average testing score. Even I couldn’t break through them.” 

“Well, maybe I’m stronger than you.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

She lowered her hands, still shaking a little, only to swiftly throw them back up as there was another slam– not on the door, but a little to the right of it. She thought she saw a flash of light from the hall, and heard a shower of sparks that usually only sounded when she broke one of the cold toys in combat tests. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“I broke the lock. So that should open the door.” 

“How do you know you didn’t just lock the door forever?” 

“Pfft. They wouldn’t want the door to lock forever.” 

“If it was a choice between dangerous material getting into enemy hands and locking it in a room forever, then yes, they’d lock the door forever.” 

“I’m gonna spin-dash the door again, now that it’s unlocked it should open.” 

“It’s not going to work, and you’re an idiot.” 

“Maybe! Stand back.” 

“Don’t you dare–”

There was another bang, and suddenly, the door flew open, nearly hitting against her as the metal swung inward. Instead, what collided against her was some kind of blue, spinning ball of energy, and she let out a shout, throwing up her hands to block the threat from hitting her directly. Her body instinctively began to curl, and the two figures rolled across the ground before landing smack against the wall. She raised her hands to push her attacker off, but stopped short, breathing deep and staring up at the strange, unfamiliar figure above her.

Hands falling on her shoulders, a strange, blue boy who looked like her was breathing just as hard, and seemed just as thrown off. His eyes, the same color as hers, looked her over, and then he smiled a smile brighter than she’d ever seen. “Hi!” he cheered, before sitting back and holding a hand out for her. “I’m Project Sonic! You must be the new hedgehog.” 

She flinched back at his hand, before she realized it wasn’t moving any closer towards her. Carefully, she put her palm on his, and he lifted her to her feet. She let out a surprised squeak, as he said, “You’re pretty! Ultimate Lifeform, look, this one’s pink! Oh, your quills are kinda messy.” 

He started to lower his hand, which sent a burst of panic through her. Her fingers clenched tight around his, and she suddenly locked their arms together and pushed herself up against his side. 

“Whoa! Okay. This one likes hugs!” 

She heard footsteps at the door, and looked up to see… another one, another creature like her. This one black, with red streaks, and amber eyes that looked at her with confusion, and something else she couldn’t place. After a second, he spoke. “I think this one’s a girl.”

“Hmm? Oh. Are you a girl?” the blue boy looked down at her curiously. 

She looked between them, confused. 

“I think you scared her.” 

“How?” 

“By breaking down her door.” 

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad.” 

The black hedgehog came over to her, kneeling down slightly to meet her hesitant eyes. “Hello,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding much softer. “I’m Shadow. What’s your name?” 

“I thought you were Ultimate Lifeform.” 

“Don’t be stupid.” 

She didn’t talk much. She didn’t have much use for it, and she wasn’t very well-practiced. But sometimes she had to answer questions, so she thought very hard for a moment, and then sounded out, slowly, “Pr… pro-ject Rose.” 

“She can talk!” the blue boy cheered.

“Of course she can talk. Er, you are a ‘she’, right?” 

She confusedly nodded. At least, she assumed so; that’s what everyone called her. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” Even more confused, she shook her head. “How long have you been here?” She shrugged. 

“I don’t think she knows a whole lot.”

“Neither do you.” 

“I like your chest spot.” Sonic said, pointing at the little white splotch on her chest. It was almost an oval, but was a little too pointed at the top, and a little too off-center. “It’s not as fluffy as Shadow’s, though. Feel Shadow’s fluff, it’s so soft!” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

Curiously, she did lift her hand and put it against the white fur on Shadow’s chest. He flinched and glared at Sonic, but didn’t make a move to stop her. It was soft, yes, soft enough to feel through her thin gloves. After a moment, she reached out and grabbed his arm, too, and pulled him just as close as the other boy. He let out a cry of protest, but she settled herself between them, and her body did something strange that it had never done before. She felt her throat vibrate, and she made some kind of sound to go along with it. Like a growl, but growls were for when she was scared. This was the opposite, for when she felt… the opposite of scared? Whatever that was. Actually, she hadn’t known she could feel like this. 

“Is she purring?” Shadow’s voice came.

“Is that what that is?” 

“Obviously. Don’t you know anything?” 

“I dunno. I only did that, like, once, and it scared me kinda.” 

“What do you mean you’ve only done it once?” 

She couldn’t figure out anything the boys were saying; it was all words that meant nothing, but she liked the sounds of their voices, so she leaned onto a blue shoulder and continued her not-growl, enjoying the feeling of arms around her that weren’t cold, and that felt like hers did. 

Eventually, there were several more, pounding footsteps, and the boys’ voices raised to shouts as more people entered the room. She didn’t process that. In fact, she didn’t notice a single thing, not until one of the boys’ arms was yanked away from her. 

---

Amy’s hand knocked against the spray bottle, sending it clattering against the tile. She jumped back to the present, whispering a curse under her breath, and quickly swiped it back up, checking to make sure nothing had spilled. She was already using a lot of Ms Vanilla’s products, she didn’t need to waste any more of her stuff because she couldn’t keep her mind in one stupid place… 

After a moment, she placed the bottle down and leaned her head against the tub behind her, taking a deep breath and staring up at the light on the ceiling. One hand started playing with the quills on her legs, while the other clenched against the cold floor.

One, two, three, four. Breathe in. One, two, three, four. Out. 

She shook her head and looked back down at her boots. Carefully, she picked up the stiff brush and began working on scraping at the stains again. She knew falling into old, stupid memories was just going to make the process take longer, but at the same time, it was better than thinking about what exactly she was cleaning up. She could pretend these were paint stains from a messy project, or fruit they’d squashed while running in the greenhouse. Maybe pretend that Shadow and Sonic were throwing ink at each other. And that nothing that happened actually happened. 

Fifty years. It seemed so stupid. It was just yesterday. Just a few moments ago. She had been having a normal day, and then suddenly everything was so terrifying, and too much all at once, and then Maria was bleeding and it was all they could do to get her to the pods. Shadow said that one of them would have to stay behind to send out the pods, and before Amy could say a single thing, Maria had pushed her. And then she was asleep. 

Fuck. She’d pushed the brush too hard, and glared down at the scratch in the material. Well! Scratches were better than stains, she supposed. 

It took a long, long time to get the stains decently brushed away. Vanilla had told her how to make a soap mixture to put on it afterwards, and after carefully measuring out what had been left on the sink for her, she found that it did make the blots… less noticeable. Or maybe they were actually gone, but she’d just have to see them for the rest of her life. That’d be just wonderful. 

She laid back her ears as she dried the shoes with the rabbit’s fur-dryer– thankfully, it seemed that technology had only changed a little in the last fifty years. Now the motor was inside, and it warmed up much faster. She left the boots on the ground afterwards, awkwardly pulling up the socks that had been left for her until they reached her knees. She didn’t like going shoe-less. Apparently that was a mobian thing; she didn’t know much about the islander lifestyle, but Maria had read that mobians were more prone to cover their hands and feet above anything else, as the showing of claws was considered a threat. Amy had wondered if that meant she should take her gloves off to fight. Just to let her opponents know she meant business. She’d been too nervous to actually ask anyone, though. 

These new, unstained gloves barely fit her, but she was able to squeeze her inhibitors to the point where they managed. She then looked at herself in the mirror, at her damp quills and strange, borrowed clothes. 

The first thing I need to do is make these gloves fit, she thought, flexing her fingers. I can’t get a good grip on weapons like this. The boots need to go back on as fast as possible so I don’t lose traction. If someone attacks before they’re dry, I need to take the socks off. Better to have exposed paws than to slip and fall. There are two main exits in the house that I’ve seen, but plenty of windows as backups. They said the chao sense danger, we should have them lookout for…

For what, exactly? She shook her head to clear it, before pounding it against the mirror and hissing at herself. The “danger” came fifty years ago, and she hadn’t been ready for it. And now everything was gone. And here she was, for… for what? What was she supposed to do now? What was she supposed to do on her own? Nobody had ever prepared her for what to do on her own. When she was to leave the ARK, it was to be brought to GUN. But GUN had tried to kill her, and the ARK was gone, and Sonic and Shadow were missing, and Maria was dead. 

She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to believe that Shadow had saved her, when her and Sonic were thrown into pods. That she didn’t hear Maria trap him as well, that she didn’t see the little girl stumbling, shaking, buckling under her own weight, that she didn’t know she’d been hit in the freaking lung. As if she didn’t know more about human anatomy than her own, with just how much time they’d all spent trying to find ways to make Maria feel better, to see if they could help her with her sickness, and as if she didn’t know all the fastest ways to kill someone. But she did. She knew what she knew and she knew she wasn’t seeing Maria again. 

There was a soft knock on the door. “Ms Amy? Are you okay in there?” 

She straightened herself up, and called, “Yes. I- I’ll be out in a second.” 

“Okay. Mother says that food is ready.” 

Ms Vanilla had already been so kind. Asking if she’d had any allergies or preferences, showing her where all the cleaning supplies were, promising to do her best to clean her dress and make sure it wasn’t completely ruined. Even just letting her into her home was more than Amy could have asked for. Slowly, Amy pinched herself, dragging her back to the present, and left the bathroom. Carefully, she made her way down the creaky wooden stairs, and eventually located the kitchen she’d been told to head to. 

The little girl, Cream, was setting the table with folded napkins and shiny silverware, as her chao placed cups on decorative saucers. Amy watched for a second, the ease with which they did this chore fascinating her for a moment, before she came out and asked if she could help. 

“You’re our guest, Ms Amy! Just sit wherever you like.” Cream paused, then, and said, “But I’m sitting here. If you want to sit next to me.”

Amy found that she did, and she smiled at the little girl before carefully squeezing onto the chair. She ran her hands over the spindles on the back, maybe a few more times than would be considered normal, but if Cream noticed, she didn’t say anything. Eventually, the rabbit climbed onto her own chair, as Cheese floated across the table, sitting with a saucer and singing something to themself. 

Vanilla brought in a large bowl of something Amy didn’t recognize but that smelled really good, while Chocola very carefully floated with a teapot, which they placed in the center of the table. Cream lifted it from there and began pouring for Amy, asking if she wanted “sugar or milk or honey or berries or–”

“Cream, slow down, dear.” 

“I… actually haven’t had tea before, so I’ll just try it normal for now.” Amy admitted, her face turning a bit red. 

Vanilla bit her lip but after a moment, simply said, “Well, go ahead and take as much quiche as you want. We have plenty of asparagus and can always make more if we need it. Even if you were in a suspended state, I’m sure fifty years can make you a little hungry, yeah?” 

“Probably.” Amy wasn’t sure. She was never good at telling when she was hungry and when she wasn’t. 

Vanilla cut part of the meal to put on her plate, and then said, “How did it go?”

“I think my boots are going to be okay.” she said hesitantly, watching to see how Cream ate the meal before trying it herself. She grabbed her fork shortly after the little girl did, and followed her motions. 

“Did you like the bubble bath?” Cream asked excitedly. It had been her suggestion, and apparently was from her bathroom closet. 

“Yeah, I did.” Amy admitted. She slowly placed the fork down and took a sip of tea, her eyes going wide. “Oh, it’s hot.” 

“Fresh off the stove.” 

“I always thought it’d be cold.” Amy considered. “Though I guess it did sometimes have steam in pictures. That probably should’ve clued me in.” Cream opened her mouth to ask a question, then instead quickly started to eat her quiche. Amy bit her lip. “Sorry. I must sound crazy to you.” 

“Hey. You’ve been through a lot. You can sound a little crazy if you want.” Vanilla smiled. “I’m sure we’ll say things that confuse you, too.” 

“Aren’t you… gonna ask me questions?” 

“We don’t want to rush you. You can tell us whatever you want, when you’re ready.” 

Amy felt a little confused. She took another sip of tea, and then said, “Well, um, I was born in space. We can probably start there.” 

“Are you an alien?” Cream asked.

“Eh.” Amy shrugged. “Depends on your definition of ‘alien.’ Genetically, I’m mostly mobian. I think.” 

“Well, so are we.” Cream said happily. 

Vanilla poured herself some tea, gesturing with a small smile for Amy to continue. Amy hunched her shoulders, trying not to feel uncomfortable. These women had already done more than enough, she should at least give them a few answers, right? 

“Um. I was made on– on the Space Colony ARK. Ever heard of…? No, yeah, that makes sense. The scientists there were commissioned to make weapons and medicinal advancements. They made me, Sonic and Shadow. We had the advanced healing and chaos energy they wanted, but they weren’t able to siphon it from us to other people.” 

She squeezed the handle of her teacup, and glanced at the chao, who had both of their heads tilted as they listened to her. They were so much cuter in real life than they were in pictures. 

“Um… I’m not… I’m not really sure what happened. GUN was supposed to be on our side. They’d never had a problem with us before. But yesterday… I mean, when everything happened, they just. They just started attacking us. Maria– she was my…” God, what was she? Best friend? Sister? Reason for being alive? “She lived there with us. She was the Professor’s granddaughter, he wanted to find a cure for her NIDS.” she had a thought, then, and looked up at Vanilla. “Have they cured it now?” 

Vanilla thought carefully. “There’s treatments that can lessen symptoms.” 

“The lower gravity kept her in remission.” Amy recited. “But she’d still get sick sometimes. But, well, she was with us. When everything happened. She got…” she glanced down at her hands. “She got shot. We tried to get her to the escape pods. She put us in instead. I… I don’t know why. And I don’t know why nobody found us til now.” 

She jumped as she felt Cream grab her hand, and turned to look at the rabbit’s big, sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Ms Amy. That sounds scary.” 

“I can’t give you many answers,” Vanilla said, as Amy glanced to her, “But I can tell you you should be safe here. GUN usually stays away from the smaller islands, and that’s if whoever ordered the attack is even still around to cause problems for you.” 

God, that might be worse than them being a threat. The idea that the threat was gone, and she’d never know what it had even been in the first place. Amy put the cup down and reached for her fork, slowly slicing off a piece of the quiche. 

“Now, not much else happens here outside of badnik attacks, but even they haven’t approached in years.” 

“Badniks?” Amy asked. It was kind of a funny word. 

“Oh, that’s a bit… complicated. And a long story.” Vanilla paused. “There’s… it mostly affects the larger islands and continents, but sometimes it spreads to us. There’s a man trying to take over parts of the planet with robot soldiers. But we have plenty of defenses, and again, they haven’t been here in years.” 

“I’m good at fighting robots.” Amy said. “It’s what I’m best at, actually.” she carefully took a bite of the quiche, and her eyes widened. “Oh, I like this.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart. When your boots are dry, do you want to go to town and get some new clothes? I know my gloves are a little big for you, and you said you prefer wearing clothes–” 

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t need to! We’ll do whatever we can to help.” 

Amy paused, carefully putting her fork down. “Why?” 

Vanilla blinked, before repeating, “‘Why’?” Amy nodded. “We always do what we can to help others.” 

“It’s okay if you need something from me.” Amy said quietly. “I’m used to it. I can help cook with you, or– or I can help you with defenses, or–”

“Don’t worry about any of that.” Vanilla said softly. “None of that at all. All you need to do is rest and recover.” 

Recover. Amy shoved another forkful of quiche into her mouth so she wouldn’t start to cry right there. She wasn’t going to recover, she already knew. 

---

The town was strange. Each building looked different, all the paths diverging in a maze-like way, the flowers poking through the sidewalks random. The clouds moved faster than she thought they would, and the sky was already turning orange by the time they reached the tailor. The lioness inside talked cheerfully with Vanilla while Cream scrambled to show Amy all the different sections of the store, from shirts to skirts to dresses and rompers and jumpers and scarves. Amy had never seen so much variety in clothing, with so many splashes of color and intricate designs. Even Maria’s clothes had mostly been solids, all tucked and organized into her dresser. Walking into this shop felt like walking directly into a rainbow.

Oh, wow. Could she see a rainbow in real life soon? That was a wild thought. 

Cream kept asking her what she liked, but she wasn’t really sure. Eventually, she just said she liked anything with color, and she did kinda prefer skirts to pants, so Cream helped her gather a pile of fluffy dresses and shirt-and-skirt combos, before dragging her into the curtained-off dressing room to try it all on. 

Amy hadn’t had played dress-up like this since she and Maria were younger. Sometimes, Sonic and Shadow were too busy or tired to play with them, so they had “girls’ nights” where they dressed up and danced to silly music and made up stories until they passed out on the floor. Eventually, she’d settled on a few specific old clothes of Maria she liked to wear when she wasn’t testing, and Maria hadn’t usually been well enough to dance as much as she wanted. Amy wasn’t sure when the last girls’ night had been. She was sure they wouldn’t have known it was the last one. What, she wondered, would they have done differently if they had known?

“That one’s pretty!” Cream said. 

Amy glanced down at the oversized white shirt, which she’d tucked slightly into the green skirt, and smiled. “It’s easy to move in. I like that.” 

She lifted one of the few pants she’d selected, a pair with large pockets, and held it up against a black turtleneck. “What do we think of this?” 

“I think you’d look like an adventurer!” 

“Hmm. I might like that.” 

She flipped the turtleneck over, looking at the red star design on the chest. Her heart skipped a beat, the color combination suddenly hitting her.

“You’re trying to do it too fast.” Shadow had muttered, holding up her hands. “Take it slow at first, and it’ll get easier.” 

She bit her lip, and put the clothes in the “maybe” pile. “I… probably shouldn’t pick too much, though.” she glanced down at her boots, and said, “And I guess I haven’t been thinking of what matches the boots.”

“They’re really pretty! Oh– you had a headband when we found you. Do you want me to grab some of those for you?” 

“Er– you don’t need to grab a whole lot. I’m already…” Amy hesitated. “I already feel like I’m taking advantage of you two.” 

Cream watched her carefully for a second. And then said, “If it makes you feel better, you’re the most interesting thing to happen to us in ages. So helping you out is way more fun than doing storm-cellar drills.” 

Amy giggled slightly. “That… actually does make me feel a bit better. I’ve barely ever been the interesting one.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Oh, there was this one time I was the showcase. It was really cool. But nothing really happened after that, and it was back to combat tests like always. They’d started automating those when I was eight, so nobody was even watching while I did all my best work. Shadow did all the cool things everyone wanted us to do, and Sonic got to be ‘interesting’ when he made himself a spectacle.” Cream still looked at her like she didn’t understand. Amy laughed, and said, “Nevermind. Um, yeah, if you could grab a headband, maybe in red? I like red the best.” 

It was Shadow and Sonic’s favorite color first, she didn’t say, as Cream nodded and raced off, swishing the curtain behind her. 

Amy turned towards the mirror on the wall, carefully pulling off the skirt. She hesitated, glancing between the two piles– Cream had insisted they have a “keep” and “return” pile, with the “maybe” pile arising from Amy’s cautious indecision. Right now, they had a “maybe” and “return” pile. It wasn’t that she did like all the stuff in the “maybe” pile… it was just that she still felt strange declaring she was taking something back with her. 

When she laid the skirt and shirt into the “maybe,” she glanced to the mirror again, running her hand over the patch on her chest. When she was little, she’d thought it was a discoloration. Shadow explained that most mobians had lighter-colored chests, as some kind of evolutionary camouflage. While they lived in less hunt-or-be-hunted circumstances now, the trait remained, now being more of a decorative pattern than protection. To be honest, she’d never liked hers. She’d wished it was symmetrical, or less obvious. Or if it had to be obvious, then it should be fluffy like Shadow, instead of just a weird blotch. 

She lifted the black-and-red sweater again, and hugged it to herself, shutting her eyes tight. I’m gonna find you, Shadow, she promised. And Sonic. I don’t know where you are, or if you’re still asleep, but I’m gonna find you. 

They had to still be asleep. They would’ve found her otherwise. 

The curtain waved again, and Amy turned to see Cream rush back in, a headband in one hand and a short bundle of matching fabric in the other. “Ms Amy! You said you like red, right? I found this dress, you should try it on! I think it would look pretty on you!” 

Amy carefully put the sweater down, exchanging it with Cream. She held up the dress against her body, swinging back towards the mirror and smiling a little. 

“Huh. Yeah, I think this would look pretty.” 

It didn’t really go with the boots. But she could make it work.

---

{ao3} {tumblr}

[eastwindmlk]

For this month's @jilychallenge I have been partnered with @elliemarchetti with the prompt Person A is looking forward to an ice cream and person B takes the last one.

Did I stretch the prompt a little? Yes, but you will just need to squint to find it! This month also features Chaotic Sirius. 1804 words under the cut!

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Mary complained as Lily dragged her feet to the ‘guard station’ at the gate of the newest event that she’d dragged Mary to. 

Rolling her eyes, Lily stood in front of the temporary wooden structure and humoured her friend by posing for a picture that she would more than likely be flooded with somewhere in the coming week with copious attempts to cajole her into posting them. 

Which was something she was not quite comfortable with yet. Most of the people she worked with still had no idea this was how the star student spent her weekends. The few people who did find out had spotted her in photos posted by the events. 

It also turned out that one or two had actually seen her at the event itself, which made for good lunch break conversations. She’d learned a lot about historical costuming, and her watch and reading lists had grown exponentially. 

All things considered, she was quite happy with the way things had turned out. They were even going to meet a few of them on the grounds as soon as they had done the rounds and likely bought more than either of them intended to. 

“Are you disappointed there are no knights this time round?” Mary asked, while they strode down the path, locked arm in arm. Dodging sword handles and sweeping tails. The dusty palace paths were lined on one side by white canvas tents that held the shopkeepers, the other side with flower beds. 

Despite there being plenty of open space on the other side of those flowers, it felt more cramped than the other events they’d been to. 

The sun was burning far too hot for the early spring, but when she mentioned it to Mary, the weather gods decided to mock her. A sudden splash of rain instantly made everything mucky and humid. A photographer had cornered them, and she watched a Disney princess steal away the hand-bound diary she’d had her eye on in the meantime. It was when she was quite unceremoniously shoved aside by one of the Schuyler sisters while trying to buy another trinket for her dress that Lily decided she had enough. 

“Let’s go find the food,” she suggested in a tired tone, fanning herself as they tried to manoeuvre out of the tent. Wedged somewhere between drinking horns and bonnets made from scrap fabric while people perused the wears, all of them too absorbed in the to buy or not to buy to notice two women trying to get out. 

They followed the path to one of the paths, now a lot less dusty than before, down to one of the central hubs. Where they’d set up large tents with rows of tables and benches reminiscent of the mess hall at boarding school. 

Here the people that came to drink and be merry would gather almost as soon as the event opened. Now, you could see cliques of similarly dressed people raising horns and tankards with ale. Wave around large meat skewers and smell the wood-smoked salmon that Lily had looked forward to. 

“So, where do we start?” Mary asked, surveying the options, her hands at her sides and clearly far more ready to attack than the redhead. 

Lily pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, checking her coin purse, and wrinkled her nose in annoyance. “The coin place. I need to trade some money.” 

“You didn’t get any at the gate? Why?” Mary groaned, throwing her head back dramatically as she pulled her along to the little caravan. Or rather, the endless line of people who’d made the same mistake as Lily had. 

Huffing and puffing, the pair slowly made their way to the front, where she exchanged her very real pounds for carnival tokens. The whole while, the pair of them discussed where their journey of snacking should be starting. 

Only to throw the entire plan out of the window when they finally had said coins. They were both hot and grumpy, and there was only one thing that was going to fix this. 

Ice cream. 

It was hard to miss the fake pirate ship waving a flag with a cartoon ice cream cone in a pirate hat. So that was where they were heading. 

“I don’t know if the Jolly in Jolly Rodger meant chuffed, but I have decided that it does now,” Lily remarked, practically skipping to their net and jute awning to read the menu of The Skull and Cones Sundae shop. Both of them giggled at an impressive list of punny names and delicious-sounding specials. 

Watching a few people leave with a fish-shaped cone that was richly filled, they decided that was precisely what she wanted. “I don’t know what that is called, but I want one,” Mary decided with a nod as they joined the slow-moving line. 

One by one, they watched as the stack of fish-shaped cones disappeared. Much to their disappointment, they realized that they would likely only be able to get one once they would finally make it to the front of the line. 

This led to a disappointing bout of boulder, parchment, sheers, and then the pair of them decided to share the one they would get, and then they would let the person scooping pick a second for them. This way, both of them were happy and neither of them needed to decide. 

Both Lily and Mary too fixated on staring at the cone, believing, or rather hoping, that if they kept staring at it, the person in front of them would not do the unthinkable and snatch the last one away under their noses. 

So, naturally, that is just what happened. The person in front of them dressed in a green cape, a leather strappy contraption and, most bravely of all in this heat, a red scarf ordered and the last cone was carried away. 

Devastated, Lily’s eyes followed it to where a surprisingly familiar-looking brunette was working on constructing the intricate frozen treat. She blinked a couple of times and then she heard it. 

“Lily?” 

And immediately her head snapped to find the sound of her name. For a moment, her despair about being unable to have the treat she’d been hoping for melted away. “Hi,” she greeted him, breathless as usual. 

Honestly, it was just unfair at this point. For all intents and purposes, James should have looked ridiculous in his cartoonish get-up. She would not be surprised if it included the red and black striped trousers that seemed to come with every cheap Halloween version of a pirate. 

“I like your bandana,” she chuckled, watching him flick the shiny polyester cap with a wonky skull and crossbones printed on it. Unable to stop beaming while he flicked one of the tails dramatically, winking at Lily. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mary roll her eyes at the pair of them. “You work here now?” she asked, equal parts amused and impatient. 

“No, I am just wearing this because it looked fun,” James shot back without missing a beat, taking a deep breath. “How about I get you two something cold and then you can sneak around back in time for me to take a break? Saying the last bit a little louder, summoning Sirius from behind the curtain, wearing something even more outlandish. 

Something in the back of her mind told her that he was supposed to be a pirate called Patchy, not that she could quite remember why or where she might know the costume from. 

He sauntered up to the counter, pushing James away from the counter, and flashed a charming smile at them, fake gold tooth included. Somehow still looks beautiful under all that ridiculousness. “Arr, what can I do you lassies for?” Sirius asked, and both of them had to stifle a fit of giggles.

“Well, we wanted one of those shark cones, but you seem to be out,” Lily sighed as she fanned herself, looking at the menu just past him. “So, I suppose I’ll settle for whatever you recommend and how you went from knights to… This.” She motioned at their outfits. 

Rubbing their lips together, both James and Sirius peered around. Just double-checking that they really were out of the cones she mentioned. Frowning as they reached the same conclusions as they did. 

It was then that Sirius darted away, snatching the cone they’d watched being made for the lady in front of them, away just as Remus was handing it over. “So, sorry,” he told the very surprised woman. “Unfortunately, the Shark Attack Scooper is sold out. Can I offer you an alternative?”

Everyone blinked, looking intently at the cone in his hand and at the uncomprehending look on the woman’s face. “B-but you’re holding it,” she stammered, confused, and started reaching out for it only to have Sirius hold it away further from her and hand it to James, who stood behind him.

“My deepest apologies, ma’am, but I must insist that you select something else,” he pressed. His tone was polite, but it absolutely suggested that there was no room for discussion. 

The only thing that was keeping this from turning into a ping-pong of yesses and nos was that Sirius was keeping up an impressive display of firm, but polite hospitality. Which was more impressive, considering he did just steal her order away from right under her nose.

Before they could get too engrossed, James snapped them out of the near childish back and forth. “Come on,” he said, nodding his head towards the back. The mysterious behind-the-scenes Lily had been dying to see. 

They manoeuvred through the guy lines of the awning, dodging miscellaneous parts of a pirate ship and skipped over a pair of crates to where James was waiting for them. Holding his hand out to help Lily over.

Both were a little too distracted with each other to notice that Mary was still struggling to get to meet them. He pulled her closer, already leaning down to claim the kiss that had become the way they greeted each other. Every one of them is better than the first one. 

Lily couldn’t help but wonder when the unwillingness to part after the hunger for another kiss would turn to a hunger for more. Or rather, when this hunger would finally consume her. The heat from the early afternoon sun rivalled by the heat his touch ignited in her. 

When their greeting was interrupted by Mary taking the cone from his hand and sneaking past them. “Don’t mind me, I am just taking this before it melts like Lily’s dignity,” she stage-whispered, shooting her friend a wink. 

And just like that, Lily still missed out on her ice cream. 

[theredhavendelegate]

Iss. 7:

A New Order In Redhaven?

Gerhardt Square awoke to much pomp and solemnity on Sunday morning as Desdemona Carmine, Redhaven’s duly elected Mayor, came by with a formal announcement. Her office, Lord Redhaven’s estate, and occupying forces from The Frontline Confederation have reached a power sharing agreement.

The following conditions are now in effect: Though Redhaven retains its police precinct, The Frontline Coalition will be forming its own law enforcement body which supersedes local authorities. City administration is now a joint effort between the mayoral office clerks and separatist quartermasters, who will set and collect taxes together. Lastly, a curfew of 9pm is in effect now and for the foreseeable future throughout the city.

This change in authority, though not the first in Redhaven’s history, has not gone unchallenged. Isaac Kells, the voice of the political action organization known as The Blue Coalition, has raised concerns about the present and future state of Redhaven in an exclusive interview with The Redhaven Delegate. Though his associates have chosen to remain anonymous, he has come forward with a series of scathing indictments…

A woman with freckled skin, black hair tied back in a bun, and rough hands waits on a street corner. She glances at a pocket watch. The hands tick around the face, the short one pointing to twelve and the medium one to three while the longest moves faster than is worth checking. She stows the device and huffs. Another minute passes and she places a hand on her pocket, squeezing the fabric around the watch impatiently.

Before she can withdraw it, a man rounds the corner and waves. He has caramel skin and dark brown eyes, and he smiles sheepishly as he draws near.

The woman raises a brow and waits. The man shrugs and says, “Sorry Alessa, I had to reroute for more new demolition.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “So says you. I don’t think you should even be out here, Isaac. Do you really think its smart?”

The man pauses for a moment, and then nods. “I do. We don’t have many resources to allocate so I have to make sure they’re being spent wisely. Anyway, I have to be out here. Who wants to fight for someone who isn’t willing to fight for them as well?”

Alessa offers a wry smile. “All those saps with the orange patches seem perfectly fine dying for their betters.”

“Well maybe, given enough time, we can change their minds.” Isaac speaks confidently but Alessa only purses her lips.

Another woman walks down the street dressed from head to toe in green robes. Her demeanor is chilled and her brow is furrowed. She nods wordlessly to Alessa and Isaac as she walks by, and then she turns to enter the wooden double doors of the temple nearby.

As the doors slam shut, Alessa whispers, “They conscripted the orphans. They’re using them for message runners mostly.”

Isaac chews on the thought, then he whispers back, “It takes a lot to bring up children. The separatists will either realize that or pay for it.”

Alessa shakes her head. “Who’s going to make them pay for it?”

“Probably the kids,” Isaac answers quickly. “Let’s get moving.”

The two begin to stroll down the road. The streets here are whole, unbroken by The Great Transit, though the lack of recent upkeep is obvious between the building piles of trash and loose cobbles. The doors are locked and the windows are shuttered save for that of the post office, the door of which bears an orange flag alongside the Redhaven feather.

The street widens out into an open-air market. The stalls are empty, as are the aisles between them, but a few shops remain open on the edge of the square in the permanent buildings. Business is steady there, customers roaming quietly, purposefully between them and then back out of the square again.

Isaac takes a seat on a bench and watches for about half-an-hour. Alessa remains standing by a lamp post, glancing down the adjoining roads, into the windows of nearby structures, and at the rooftops that overlook the space. One of her hands hangs from her messenger bag by its thumb the whole time.

There is a commotion, the sound of shouting from the other side of the square, and Isaac starts off towards it. Alessa falls in behind him and releases her bag.

The two draw near to a butcher’s shop where a middle-aged man in an apron is waving a meat cleaver wildly in the direction of a smaller man in a vest. The two don’t notice their audience.

Alessa leans over to Isaac and whispers, “Tax collector.” Isaac nods.

The butcher shouts, “I shouldn’t have to pay! What about the meat shortage and The Transit and what’s money even worth now, what with everything that’s happened?”

Isaac will comment, “The butcher’s right.”

“The butcher is swinging a knife at a tax collector,” Alessa ripostes.

Isaac waits for a moment longer, takes a breath, then walks up to the storefront with Alessa in tow. The butcher doesn’t acknowledge him but the tax man turns.

“Sorry sir,” Isaac says, halting the argument. “I know him, he’s good for his taxes and his permits and all that. Just swing by tomorrow and it’ll be sorted out.”

The butcher seems suspicious, but he is unwilling to contest the sheer confidence with which Isaac speaks. The official raises a brow then looks to the butcher, who mutters, “Uh, yeah. Won’t be any trouble, we’re old pals.”

The tax collector waits another moment, glances between Isaac, Alessa, and the butcher’s now slack-held cleaver, and then nods. “Alright, one more day can’t hurt. Be well then, I’ll see you in the morning Mister Flanagan.”

He takes his leave.

There is a moment’s pause, then the butcher sighs. “Alright, what’s the scam? I know you’re with the Blues, so what do you want from me?”

Isaac shrugs and says, simply, “We want to help.”

Before the butcher can ask another question, Alessa interjects, “How much do you owe?”

He pouts and leans back. Alessa glares at him and he crumples. Isaac puts a hand on her shoulder and offers a sympathetic frown, and she finds something else to glare at.

The butcher softens and mumbles, “A hundred and twenty dollars, after the fees. That’s enough to put me out for good.”

Isaac nods his understanding, though Alessa remains alert. The former says, “Okay, that’s not too bad. We can cover it for you. There’s just one condition.”

The butcher seems doubtful and a prideful shine reappears in his eye, but he still nods for Isaac to continue.

He does. “There’s a building on lower street, number fourteen. Swing by there tonight and ask them about business management. We’ve got an accountant who should be able to get you back on track and, if you hear him out, we’ll pay off your current debts in full.”

“That’s it? What if I don’t?” the butcher responds, chin raised.

Alessa offers a soft smile. “Then the tax man will come back, probably with a pair of soldiers in tow. Instead of paying your debts, you’ll get a black eye. Maybe worse.”

The butcher holds Alessa’s gaze. Isaac waits.

The butcher nods. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

Isaac smiles and pats Alessa on the back. “Let’s get going then. No point hanging around longer than we need to.” He waves at the butcher and starts away. Alessa follows, though her guard doesn’t drop until they’re down the street and around a corner.

Continuing down the road at a cantor, Alessa grumbles, “Business management? Accountants? I can’t believe our little underground movement is busy teaching old men how to fill out their check books while The Confederates are cracking down on innocent people.”

Isaac keeps his eyes forward and responds, “It keeps the community healthy. I’d rather shoot the tax man too, but I think we both know where that leads.”

Alessa retorts, “And what if he just ignores the advice?”

Isaac shrugs. “Then he can keep the money. It’s just taking up valuable warehouse space until it’s spent. Plus, you saw our track record: every business we’ve advised is doing well and every business that snubbed us is either closed down or floundering. What is the city doing to help these people. What are the occupiers doing?”

The conversation dies down and the next few minutes are spent in silence.

The pair emerge from an alley into a courtyard, and the faded stone of Redhaven is replaced by greenery and trellis fencing. The courtyard contains a well tended garden and is surrounded by red brick walls, clean and bright. A few others move about the space and wave Isaac and Alessa on in. Isaac remarks, “Prettiest place in Redhaven, and all it took was a little work.” He stops by a planter with strawberries growing in it and picks one. “This is what we’re working for Alessa. This is why the guns are only for self defense.”

He tosses the fruit to her and she catches it. “Strawberries? We’re fighting for that?”

Isaac is already heading up towards a door. “Gardens, growth, safe places, and yes, strawberries.”

Isaac carries on inside and Alessa follows him. The two work their way up a narrow stairwell and then into an office, one with a view to the outskirts of Redhaven and the lilac fog beyond beyond the countryside.

The space is gloomy compared to the outside until Isaac pulls the curtains the rest of the way open. pale, colorless light washes over the room as Alessa sits down on a creaking armchair.

Isaac pulls a bottle of brandy out from beneath the room’s desk along with a pair of tulip glasses. Alessa shakes her head and he returns one of them, then fills the other about a third of the way.

At last, he sits behind the desk, takes a sip from his glass, and asks, “So, what am I missing.”

Alessa takes the messenger bag off of her shoulder and places it on the floor, then steeples her fingers. “Not much, honestly. The money goes in and out below budget, recruitment is going well amongst the first responders and the laborers, and your…gentle…approach seems to be keeping the authorities off our backs. If this were a normal city back in Eudax, whether it belonged to The Confederation or The Covenant, I’d say that things couldn’t be better.”

“But it’s not a normal city,” Isaac responds dryly.

Alessa nods. “You got my report about the tunnels, and I’m not the only person who’s found one. There are more monsters coming out of the fog as well and nobody is actually trying to stop them except for the farmers.”

Isaac takes another sip from his glass and thinks for a moment. He looks wistfully towards the window. “We’ll get guns to them then, hunting rifles and coach guns.”

Alessa clears her throat. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, but that’s not why I’m worried. I’m worried because none of my contacts know why they aren’t trying to stop the monsters. No soldiers to guard the farms, no patrols around the countryside, no watchtowers on the edge of town. That’s suspicious.”

Isaac finishes his drink and shrugs. “Suspicious activity is your area of expertise. What do you think is going on here?”

“I think they’re waiting to see how dangerous these things are, waiting to see if they can be harnessed. Doesn’t matter to them if a few farmers get killed, it’s valuable research. Neither side held back in the civil war on account of their morals, I don’t see why they’d start now.”

Alessa leans back in her seat and waits for a response. Isaac taps the bottle of brandy and raises an eyebrow, and this time she nods. He pours her a drink and walks it over to her. She drains the glass and hands it back before he can turn, not frantically but with a sort of practiced motion.

Isaac retakes his seat. “The work never ends,” he says, more considering the words than declaring them.

Alessa frowns. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Isaac doesn’t answer aloud, but a small smile awakens on his face and his eyes gleam softly in the pale light.

---

First Prev Next

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 7

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter R)

Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut.

New Tricks - Chapter Seven

“Everyone’s got their daggers right?” Rugan asked while double-checking his own in the side of his boot.

Both his companions nodded. They didn't usually carry their proper weapons when out of armor but it was best practice to always have something small and concealable at hand. Just in case.

“Good.”

Deciding it was too risky to take the main thoroughfares, the trio made their way down the side alleys in the general direction of the tavern.

It was slow going through the tight twists and turns. Checking every shadow lest they be ambushed.

“Maybe the fighting will be over by the time we get there.” Olly whispered hopefully.

“And if they've set the tavern on fire by then?” Rugan asked. “That's all our stuff you can kiss goodbye.”

“Wouldn't mind a good fight anyways.” Added Bellar. “Gets the blood pumping.”

Rugan noted that the adrenaline had already sobered Bellar up quite a bit.

After what felt like an eternity they wrapped around to the rear of the tavern. They were close enough to the main street now that they could hear the ring of steel on steel, the shouts and screams of combat. The smell of smoke was thick here and the air hazy with soot. The tavern itself was still intact but Rugan could see flames licking the roofs of the structures across the street.

Cautiously, Rugan tested the back doors and found them stuck fast.

“Locked. Probably whatever patrons that are still inside barred the doors to keep the fighting out.”

“Fat lot of good that'll do them if the place goes up.”

“Maybe we could gain entry from the second level?” Olly suggested.

Suddenly a large bundle wrapped in cloth fell at their feet. Rugan looked up to see Izzy peering down at him from the balcony.

“Did you know, you can see the smoke from this place clear to the apothecary in the Trades Ward?”

“Izzy!”

“Your things are in there.” She gestured to the bundle at his feet and Rugan hastily moved to open it. Sure enough his jerkin, crossbow and shortsword were there.

“I wasn't sure if that was everything.” She called out hesitantly.

“No, this is perfect, Iz. My thanks.” He beamed up at her and she returned a heartfelt smile.

She turned to address the others as Rugan scrambled to put on his kit. “If you two can tell me where to find your rooms I can grab your things too.”

“Let a stranger rifle through my things? Guess again love.”

“Fair enough.” Isolde slid herself over the rail before sliding down one of the beams that supported the balcony.

Reaching down she twisted a ring off her left hand and held it out to Bellar. The ring was copper in colour and shaped to imitate a braided rope.

“You can climb up there yourself pretty easily with this-” She pulled it back as Bellar reached forward. “but I expect it back as soon as you're done.”

“Give it here.” He replied impatiently and Isolde placed the ring in his palm. Bellar examined it, rolling it between his finger tips. “This is a ring of climbing.”

“So that's how you scaled the tower.” Rugan chuckled as he continued buckling the straps of his armor.

“Useful tool in my line of work.”

Bellar proffered the ring to Olly but he waved his hand. 

“I’m fine, it's not so high.” And with that he began scrambling up the wooden planks of the tavern's outer wall. He easily mounted onto the ledge of a second story window and from there leapt, grabbing the lip of the balcony before hoisting himself up and over.

“He's a rather good climber isn't he?” Izzy stood in awe.

“Even with the ring I don't know that I want to attempt that particular manoeuvre.” Bellar agreed.

Luckily Olly was already securing a rope to the balcony rail. He tossed the other end over the side.

“Oy. Where the hells were you keeping this?” Bellar asked as he grabbed the rope.

“In my pocket?” Olly wrinkled his brow in confusion. “It's not a very long bit.”

Bellar scaled the wall and climbed over the rail onto the balcony before turning back to Rugan. “We hopping into it once we've all got our kits?”

Rugan sighed. “Seems you've already set your mind to it.”

Bellar grinned. “Well we've got to look after the family.”

“You called the locals sullen.” Rugan's voice rising with annoyance.

“Well maybe they'll be less sullen after we help.” 

“Family first.” Agreed Olly, stepping out of the doorway back onto the balcony. He was already in his leathers, bow strung and at the ready.

“When did you?” Bellar was momentarily stunned before hurrying inside, muttering something about not being the last one out.

“I'm gonna check the windows on the north side, see if I can get a vantage.” With that Olly slipped back inside.

Rugan turned to Izzy. “You should get out of here, lass.”

She made to argue and Rugan held up his hands to stop her. “Look, I know you're not a fighter. I appreciate your help really but you shouldn't have even come down here.”

“I was in the area.” She lied.

“You just said you were at the apothecary's.”

She opened her mouth to lie again but no words came to her. Rugan smiled and shook his head before pointing back the way they’d come.

“The way through the alleys should be clear straight through. If this place isn’t safe by supper then we’ll meet at the Mermaid.”

Izzy pouted but did as she was told. “Don't let Bellar lose my ring.” She warned, then softer so that he almost didn’t hear. “Be safe.” Before slipping away quietly towards the eastern alley.

“Right, ready.” Called Bellar as climbed back over the rail and down the rope, armor on and morning star strapped to his belt. He brandished the mace as he landed and Rugan unsheathed his short sword in turn.

The pair stalked down the laneway between the tavern and its neighbouring building. As they rounded the corner of the building they could see fighting in the street. 

It took a minute to realize who was on which side, dressed as they all were in dark armor. Rugan noticed that two combatants with their backs turned to them wore cloaks emblazoned with an eye that looked something akin to a sun in splendour. Certainly not a zhent design, and conceivably something that represented a beholder like Xanathar.

The left most enemy seemed to be brandishing a blade in defense of her partner. The one on their right began gesturing and intoning the beginnings of a spell. Rugan and Bellar shared a look before raising their weapons.

Bellar's morning star crashed down on the caster’s head with a sickening crack. They toppled to the ground in a heap, brain matter oozing from the split in their scalp.

Rugan for his part thrust his sword from a low angle that would've easily pierced ordinary chainmail or leather. Instead it glanced off the plate mail under the cloak with a heavy clang.

“Bugger.”

The half-orc paladin spun on him, her eyes flashing as she raised her long sword. Heavily armoured as she was, the first sweep she took at him was too sluggish to connect, Rugan dancing back just out of the blade's reach. This forced him back into the alley however, with less room to manoeuvre out from her next strike. The slash whistled pass, just grazing the bridge of his nose and leaving a hot red line in its wake. Bellar was behind her then, his morning star crashing against her ribs, the reverberations of that blow flowing up his arms.

It stunned her for a moment and Rugan took the opportunity to come forward with another thrust to her face. She was faster this time, batting away his strike easily before coming forward again. Bellar moved to repeat his earlier hit but she whirled on him, it had been a feint and now her blade swept his weapon aside with ease. Bellar stumbled back over the corpse of the caster and had to roll to the side to keep from tripping. 

The half-orc raised her blade to strike at Bellar again but a spear point burst through her eye. With a grunt the spear's wielder thrust again, pushing the tip clear through the paladin’s skull.

The blonde elf danced back, abandoning their spear as the half-orc tipped over.

“Who the hells are you?” The elf turned to size up the duo.

“Family from out of Baldur's Gate.” Rugan supplied.

“Ah, Zarys' crew. She said you were halfway competent.”

“Probably the closest thing to a compliment we’ll draw out of her.” Muttered Rugan.

He noticed the sounds of fighting had died down and instead there were cheers from a little way down the street.

“That was a fine jab.” Remarked Bellar to the elf.

“I know.” Came their smug reply.

As the cheering grew louder Rugan saw some of the local crew carrying Olly while hooting and hollering.

“Do you have a name, elf?” Bellar asked.

“I do.”

Rugan approached the crowd. “What have you gotten yourself into now, lad?” He shouted up to Olly.

“Shot some mages!” Came Olly's reply.

“Kid got two with one arrow!” Came a cry from one of the zhents and Olly beamed.

“Good on ya’ lad.” Rugan smiled back.

“Alright folks, let's get the hells out of here before the city guard shows up!” The elf shouted over the cheers.

“The fighting’s already over, what's the point of them showing up now?” Rugan scoffed.

“Didn't expect them to involve themselves when it was actually dangerous did you?” They rejoined.

Already the zhents were putting Olly on his feet, scavenging from the fallen and scattering to the various alleyways.

“Come along then, lad.” Rugan called over to Olly. “Zarys will likely be at the warehouse, we can debrief her before trying to salvage our afternoon. Are you coming, Bellar?”

“The locals can debrief her.”

“They can but she’d rather hear it from us, and preferably before the days out. I don’t want to get another earful about slacking off.”

“You handle it, that’s what you’ve got seniority for isn’t it?”

Rugan sighed and waved him off. “Olly, would you rather stay with bell end over here?”

“Nah, I saw some stuff you two missed, better to come along.”

“Fair enough, lad.”

+++++

Rugan had been correct in assuming Zarys would want a report, she actually seemed pleased for once.

“You’ve done good work, but don't get involved in any more skirmishes if you can avoid it. They may be family but we've got to look out for our numbers too. We'll be back on the road again in two days after all.”

“Aye, Zarys. We'll keep our noses clean.”

Zarys snorted. “Might be a little late for that, Rugan.”

Olly laughed softly and Rugan touched his nose remembering the cut there. “Oh very clever.”

“Olly, you can take your leave now. I need to speak to Rugan.”

The boy obeyed without question. Rugan could hear some of the locals give Olly a few cheers when they saw him emerge from the office.

“He showed good initiative today.”

“He always does. I know a good recruit when I see one.” Rugan wasn't just bragging about Olly's recruitment but Zarys' too.

“He's smart, a terrific shot, keeps a cool head and follows the rules. I want to keep Olly on as part of my crew for a long time to come, Rugan.” The fact that Zarys hadn't yet made a complaint was a bad sign.

“I know where you're going with this Zarys.” Rugan sighed.

“You do? Well fantastic why don't you tell me then.”

“He’s capable in all the ways a zhent should be excepting one.”

“Which is?” Zarys prodded.

“He's soft, and not in the way men usually are. He's not squeamish or cowardly, those would be… more acceptable.”

“Go on, how is he soft then?”

“You know already and I know it's my job to sort it out.” Rugan could hear the frustration in his voice.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“He's kind. He's kind and one day it's going to get him killed.”

“What I'm worried about, Rugan, is not simply that he'll get himself killed. What I'm worried about is that one day he's going to make the kind choice, not the smart choice. The likelihood being that the rest of us would be worse off for it.”

“By worse off you mean poorer for it.” He scoffed.

“I mean what I said. Don't presume to correct me. You and I know better than most what the kind choice can cost you.”

Rugan winced at this, it was a memory he preferred not to dwell on.

“Aye. I'll see to it.”

“Good. Go on then, we're done here.”

With a resigned sigh Rugan turned to go. He descended into the warehouse and found that Bellar had made his way down as well.

“And I'm just saying who names a city ‘WaterDeep’. Like yeah water deep, I sure hope it is, mate!”

“It's named after the harbour.” Olly argued. “Where it was deep enough to dock the boats.”

“That's just proving my point Olly.”

“Having a rousing discussion I take it?” Rugan joined them at their usual cluster of crates.

“Bellar is being a poor guest.”

“Me? I'm perfectly amicable.”

“Take it you followed the elf here.” Rugan eyed Bellar knowingly.

“He's right smitten.” Olly was grinning from ear to ear.

“He's a right hypocrite is what he is.”

“Hey, it's different if it's one of our own.”

“Sure, different in that they're more likely to cut off your balls if they catch you messing around.” Rugan slipped back into his easy humour and lilting cadence.

“No problem for you then, Zarys already has your balls.”

“Just for safekeeping. Now if we're done here gentleman…” But Rugan realized that Bellar was already distractedly looking somewhere over Rugan's shoulder.

Rugan and Olly shared a knowing look, Olly snickering though Bellar failed to notice. Rugan simply clapped him on the shoulder and shook his head. “We'll see you later lad.”

[jophielsclutterbox]

Death & Knowledge Chapter 3 Snippet

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A gentle knock came from outside the door. “Miss Mors are you alright?” a feminine voice asked concernedly. The door opened a few inches and the blonde mortal woman from before peaked her head out. “I heard screaming.”

Mors cleared their throat, “Everything’s fine, just woke up from a dream, that’s all.” They responded, voice clear and simple.

She looked at them for a moment before speaking, “Ah, well…I have your clothes all washed.” She said, walking into the room with Mors’ clothes, folded neatly in her arms.

They got up from the bed, giving a small nod. “Alright. Set it down on the bed.” They spoke flatly, sounding dismissive before walking over to the wooden dresser, picking up a comb.

As they combed through their hair — untangling any knots they could’ve gotten, smoothing out the strands — the lady placed the clothing onto the bed before continuing. “The All-Father also requires your presence in his study at some point today, but not before getting yourself comfortable and getting something to eat.”

“Okay.” Mors sets down the comb, not bothering to look at her. “You can leave now.”

She gives a small bow before turning her heel and walking out of the room, leaving Mors on their own. They let out an exhale as they rubbed the back of their neck, rolling their neck around, and letting out a satisfied grunt when she felt a rewarding pop and crack.

They massage their scalp with their hands, tangling their fingers in their locks, letting out a frustrating sigh as they looked out the window. It was bright outside, much to Mors’ disliking. But the view was spectacular; the sky was a beautiful shade of blue, dotted with white soft-looking clouds. Fields of grass as green as any grass they’ve ever came across with buildings made of wood and stone, and from the looks of it, they looked detailed, even from a distance. And far off in the distance was the wall that Mors was on earlier, big and tall, made of rocks and stone. Though it wasn’t as neatly and evenly shaped in comparison to the buildings, either it hasn’t aged well or it was poorly built.

But despite the poor structure of the wall, the overall view was very pleasing to the eyes, not too much to the point of it looking overly pretentious and tacky, yet not too less for it to be considered unkempt and poverty-stricken. A very interesting sight to Mors, though frankly anything outside of Rome was interesting to them, a nice breath of fresh air from the usual sight and feelings of their homeland.

From the corner of their eye, they could see a couple ravens flying across the sky. A lot of ravens…Does Asgard just have a large population of them? They wondered, eyes tracking the flock of birds with fascination.

But as they watched the ravens go by, they heard their stomach rumble. They placed their hand on their stomach as they felt it growl, aching for food, any kind of nourishment.

Mors let out a tired grumble, realizing that they have to go out to eat, possibly get their time wasted by people wishing to socialize. The mere thought of it brings absolute dread onto the Roman god. Wasting time was bad enough — in fact standing around in this room is already wasting time — but having it wasted by having people talk to you? It was something Mors had despise doing, it was draining, and awkward. The handmaidens were already draining, they didn’t want more people trying to talk to them.

They took a deep breath before walking over to the bed. You can do this Mors, just- do your best not to make yourself noticeable. They thought to themself as they picked up their freshly cleaned clothes and started getting dressed. Which is kinda hard to given the whole corpse look…and the moths… They pulled the long black tunic over their head, pushing their arms through the sleeves. They decided not to put on their cloak, would draw in more attention. Maybe I can use my resting face? Consus did say that my resting face usually steers people away. They brushed their locks with their fingers, smoothing out their hair without using the comb before putting on their caligae. I wish I brought my indoor sandals, it feels disrespectful wearing these…

They closed their eyes for a moment, mentally preparing themself. You can do this. They inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming their mind before opening the door and walking out of the room, the moths quickly following.

Fish Out of Water (Currently at 3,696 words)

[duskamethyst]

broken reverie.

a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, college AU

warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)

pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader

summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.

maybe you went too far.

or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office. 

but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.

the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.

his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.

he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.

“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.

nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.” 

you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”

“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%. 

then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take. 

“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”

“no, of course not.”

“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.

“well, i–” 

“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.

it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption. 

“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?” 

“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.

“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”

you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”

“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”

sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.

you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way. 

gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.

“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”

lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.

“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”

“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”

“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”

you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.

“i-i did it for.. attention.” 

“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.

you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise. 

“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”

well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.

“no, sir.” 

nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.

“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”

“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.

“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”

you stay silent to let him continue.

“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?” 

“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”

nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either. 

“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”

“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”

“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.

you blink, perplexed. “what?”

“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.” 

you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.

“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?” 

“no, no! that’s not it. i just..” 

an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take. 

“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit. 

“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”

“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.” 

you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.

you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.

“no hands.” he quickly demands. 

you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.

nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses. 

you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.

“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.

with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top. 

“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock. 

you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long. 

you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).

“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.

“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command. 

nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.” 

leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.

“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.

you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat. 

“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?” 

your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?” 

nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.

“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?” 

you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.

“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”

you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.

“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it. 

without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student. 

however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.

“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”

“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”

his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.

“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”

nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief. 

“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything. 

nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”

you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs. 

“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.

“y-yes.” your breath hitches.

“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”

“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.

nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”

a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.

“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”

with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.

you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”

not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.

as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth. 

“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”

a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.

“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.

“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”

you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.

“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”

you shake your head, he slaps again.

“you act like one. stop lying.”

nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick. 

“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.

“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation. 

“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.

“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly. 

the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy. 

“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.

“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”

“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”

“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock. 

“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”

you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join. 

“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.

both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole. 

your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place. 

“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”

nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[coffehbeans]

Tales from Immers (Prompt #11)

Prologue | Chapter 1 (you're here)

EDIT 15/07: Helloo guys. So, I was so unsatisfied with how this turned out that I edited it again quite a lot. It's much shorter and less convoluted now, at least I hope so. The first version had too much going on. Anyway, enjoy!

Masterpost of stories and prompts (you can send an ask for a prompt from the list!)

Synopsis: Self-procclaimed prodigy Kylon invented something beyond a man's imagination: the airship. In an attempt to test it out, a failure in his creation brings him to a meeting only heard of in legends, roping Kylon into a hidden story within the woods of Immers.

Rating: PG-13 for descriptions of violence.

AAAAAAAAHHHH Here it is fellas!!! I FINISHED IT NNGGHH *explodes*

Okay I have absolutly no more energy to edit this anymore, so ENJOY! I'm finally introducing this universe's protagonist, and also my favorite blorbo uwu Anyway, onwards to the story!

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

Everything was ready.

The engines of the airship functioned perfectly, as he designed them to. The steam releasing from the metal contractions hummed pleasantly, music in his ears. Floating above the structure and attached to the platform was the gigantic rubber-coated fabric filled with hydrogen that would allow it to fly. From a distance, it was a spectacle by itself, a monument of beauty and ingenuity never built before, a creation that came from Kylon’s own, inventive mind. He grinned, excitement bubbling up inside his chest. He hopped on the surprisingly small airship carrying a knapsack on his back, a notebook and a pencil packed in his pockets. The space inside the balloon was too small, after all, it barely fit him on the wooden platform. This test drive would be short, yet fascinating.

“Do you see this, Rosemary?” – he shouted in the open, grassy area towards a ginger figure at the distance. Her long red curls and flowy dress billowed in the wind. Not capable of speaking, she waved at him and signaled with both of her hands:

‘It looks amazing!’

Kylon beamed, happy that his friend shared his contentment. If his invention worked, he would make a bigger, better one, and he would take her with him, hopefully to a better place than where they currently lived in.

Although, compared to their little run-down village, which welcomed foreigners like them with judgmental eyes and displeased scowls, anywhere else seemed a better place.

He fixed the round glasses on his face, pushing them up, and ran a hand across his dirty blonde hair, not doing much to improve the disheveled appearance of his frizzly straight locks, which were pulled back and tied into a high, messy ponytail. Kylon gave a quick look around the airship in order to check if everything was ready for departure. He was approaching the anchor to pull it from the ground, until Rosemary approached him.

‘Are you sure I can’t come with you? It unnerves me that you are traveling alone.’ She motioned with her hands, a frown deepening on her face.

Kylon softened his gaze and smiled.

“You have no need to worry, Rosey. I spent so many months building this little dove, I’m mostly sure she will not fail on me.”

Rosemary inaudibly giggled. ‘She?’

“That’s right! I’m announcing my official marriage with my latest creation, and you’re the most and only esteemed guest!”

They both laughed in unison, but Rosemary’s face quickly fell into worry.

‘I am worried for one thing, though. I know you don’t believe in legends but…Why the Immer Woods?’

Kylon took his eyes from the rope attached to the airship and glanced at his friend. It’s comprehensive that when a rumor is often talked about, people are most inclined to believe it, and since no one has been able to prove creatures from fairytales exist or not, tales such as of the Immers Beast are perfect to fill the imagination of curious but fearful minds.

But Kylon did not believe in fairytales, and after experiencing so many raw and real events in his 19-year-old life, the notion of considering a tall tale capable of stopping his plans were ridiculous. Still, he felt glad for the worry coming from his only friend.

“It’s precisely why no one dares to venture those places that I long to see it and document everything for myself.” – Kylon smiled and touched Rosemary’s shoulder.

“No need to worry, Rosey. When was the last time I nearly died with my inventions?”

‘Um, almost every single one of them?’ She looked wide eyed at him, agitated.

Kylon chuckled. “Well, we all must start from somewhere. This time will be different! You’ll see!”

Rosemary did not have it in her to discourage her friend. So, when he boarded the airship and it slowly soared towards the sky, she smiled and waved farewell, pursing her lips and suppressing the concerned frown that threatened to appear on her face.

.........................................................................

Kylon was flying once again, gliding the fresh wind currents at quicker speeds than he ever thought possible. The flight continued without a hitch, and he guided the airship with a gleeful smile on his face, taking in the fresh air as his creation danced around the blue skies, swinging in a comfortable motion. Kylon took a deep breath and sighed, serenity on his face. After so many failed attempts at a successful airship, he did it. He made a revolutionary invention, not once created by mankind. If he showed it to the high nobility, from any kingdom, perhaps he would be given a high-ranking position, and he would be able to live a better life alongside Rosemary.

However, the kingdom of Immers would not be the place where he’d present his invention, lest his true identity is discovered.

And Kylon did know inside his heart, for he was an honest man, that if he ever had the opportunity to stab a blade against the chest of an Immers soldier, he would do so without hesitation.

He approached the “forbidden” Imore Woods, scoffing at the memory of the funny and exaggerated mythical stories. They said the place was renamed five years ago in honor of the second son of Immers’s baron, Audwin Imore, who disappeared and apparently died inside the misty forest. Kylon also heard from Rosemary that frequent earthquakes could be felt originating from the forest, and that those who dared enter returned traumatized and paralyzed with fear, refusing to speak about what they saw with petrified eyes. Kylon smirked and leaned his arms on the thin wooden balcony. It felt almost funny how because of a tale people refused to see the beautiful landscape the forest provided. Thick, tall trees covered the ground he flew over with evergreen-colored leaves, surrounded by imposing grey mountains. A chilly white mist obscured part of the scenery, and Kylon almost felt tempted to descend right then and there to explore the forest closer.

His wish, to his surprise, came true. An intense wind current surged from the opposite direction of his airship and shook it, almost making him fall towards the ground. Gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white, Kylon carefully made his way towards the engine, seeing that nothing seemed to be broken inside. He looked up at the ship’s balloon, but nothing seemed ripped.

Another strong shaking on the wooden platform made his grip tighter on the fragile support, and Kylon made a mental note to build a stronger platform in the future. The airship twisted and contorted, diving towards the surface.

The construction soon lost balance and descended with fierce tremors, plummeting faster towards the ground. Kylon breathed in and out in, looking at the approaching ground as the biting winds blew his hair and gravity pulled him down. His heartbeat accelerated. He had to jump or the ship could explode with him in it.

“Looks like it can’t fly on its own for long.” He said to himself and sighed, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. Kylon might not admit it to himself, but the favorite part of his failures was almost dying from them, the thrill of danger filling his senses with addictive adrenaline.

He gripped the shoulder straps of his backpack and leaped off the falling airship with a yell, feeling his heart soar with joy as pressure from the Earth took him over. He pulled a string on his backpack to activate the parachute he created for himself, slowing his fall as he descended towards the forest below. The ship crashed with a brassy noise soon after, catching fire upon impact. When Kylon’s feet did as much as graze the ground, he hastily removed the backpack from his back, ignoring any pain or bruise he might have gotten, and sprinted towards the fallen balloon.

“So much time dedicated to her, and now it’s all ruined!” He grumbled and sprinted closer to the crashing site, looking up at his creation as it burned into ashes, ruffling his messy hair with one hand as he paced back and forth. He had to put out the fire somehow, or there would be nothing of his beloved to salvage.

“There must be a river nearby. Or maybe it’ll rain, or something. I’m not even married with my beloved blimp yet and it’s already – “

A strong earthquake quaked under his feet and Kylon stumbled in place.

‘So apparently that part of the legend was real’.

The rhythmic tremors confirmed some veracity of those tales as well, since the ground shook at a steady and resounding pace, causing the trees to sway and branches to fall off their sturdy trunks. He paid no mind to the sound as he steadied himself and strode towards a random direction in the misty woods, hoping to find some sort of water. But then, he remembered there was nothing he could use to carry the water towards the ship. Was his creation ruined forever? No, he could not let that happen.

The tremors got more intense and deafening in sound, causing Kylon to wince. He looked towards the direction of the mountains that loomed in the distance, thinking that perhaps an avalanche was coming towards his direction, in which case he’d have to run as fast as possible. His beloved ship may be dead, but Kylon must not die, at least not yet.

“No, that can’t be it. The mountains are so far away I can barely see them. Then what – “

The ground shook so hard Kylon lost his balance and fell back-first on the grassy ground with a loud yelp. The earth reverberated around him, the ground threatening to collapse as it quaked. In the distant, misty horizon he could make out the silhouette of trees tumbling down towards the ground, adding volume to the pulsating sounds. Kylon was about to get up when he heard a rush of water from his right.

“No freaking way.”

A waterfall had just materialized from the mist over the burning airship, instantly dousing the flames. Kylon was never one to believe in miracles, but this time there was no explanation. It was a miracle, his dearest was safe!

That was when he realized that the waterfall poured out from something, round and brown in color. It resembled a wooden bucket, but massive in size. Only when it creaked and retreated did he notice that something was attached to the monumental object, and it moved.

“What is going on?” He marveled.

He had just gotten up when a heavier earthquake shoved him towards the ground again. Frustration surged within him

“Are you serious?!” He shouted. Kylon sat up and glanced in all directions until his gaze locked onto something directly in front of him.

"My glasses must be broken."he muttered, removing them and placing them back on.

If he wasn’t hallucinating, those were two ginormous boots.

Kylon swallowed and felt his throat dry. The mist must have clouded his vision, making tree trunks appear as boots. Yes, that was the only possible explanation.

A loud clanking sound rattled the earth and he shrieked. Towards him rolled an impossibly gigantic wooden bucket. Water dripped out of it, as the immense object sped up towards him. Kylon screamed and got up, sprinting out of its way.

It was then that it dawned on him. He was not hallucinating.

He felt sweat streaming down his forehead as he slowly turned his head to the massive boots, noticing they were connected to limbs. And up he looked, and up, and up, until he accidentally fell back again towards the ground.

His stomach sank, heartbeat hammering inside his chest.

The thick leather material connected to black cotton pants that towered over the trees, to a torso covered by miles of white woolen fabric. A face was obscured by the pale mist, strands of long, thick hair cascading down the creature’s chest. Peering closely, Kylon could see up in the cloudy distance, and chills crawled down his spine when he noticed the glowing, vibrant shade of blue of the beast’s eyes.

Kylon yelled and shot up, upon which the figure grunted in a deep, echoing voice. It’s real, the tales were right. He sprinted away from it in a straight line, but stumbled when the beast's knees hit the ground with a thunderous boom. Without looking back, he continued his mad dash until colliding with a smooth, pale surface. It was a hand, resting horizontally on the ground, its palm towering over him. Kylon gawked as thick fingers curled around him and obscured his field vision. He attempted to punch and kick his way out, but soon found himself engulfed in darkness, unable to move due to the intense pressure of the colossal flesh. He hissed in pain, his stomach lurching as if it had plummeted to the ground, a result of the creature's sudden movements. He was lifted off the earth, trying to free his arms or squirm himself free, but the leathery skin did not bulge.

A pressure from the giant hand’s movements below Kylon’s feet pushed his head towards the surface and out of the claustrophobic, dark space. He gasped for air and heaved, opening his eyes.

His heart leapt towards his throat.

In front of him was the massive face of the giant. He supposed that was the beast people talked about. Ironic, in the end, it appeared to the person who least believed in it. If Kylon wasn’t so scared, he might have laughed at the absurdity of it all. But what stirred his heart in fear, wasn’t the massive blue eyes of the giant itself, but the piercing glare and the scowl across its face, which was covered in scars. It had ashy brown hair, half of it tied in a high ponytail, its disheveled bangs were parted in the middle and fell on its forehead. It spoke in such a thunderous voice Kylon felt it drumming against his ears and vibrating inside him.

“Trespassing was not enough apparently, you puny human had to bring your trash along with it.”

For a split second, Kylon forgot the fear he was under. ‘Not only was the beast capable of coherent thought and speech, but it had used it to insult my invention?!’ That moment of indignation was enough to stir bravery within him.

“My creation is not trash!” – Kylon yelled and the giant’s eyebrows perked up. “I was flying on it, I fell here by accident!”

He huffed. No way he would let that giant say his breakthrough in mechanics was trash. But considering it lived in those woods, there was not much technology it might be familiar with, anyway.

The giant narrowed its eyes and approached its hand to its face, close enough for him to see his reflection on its pupil.

He made such a huge mistake by speaking up.

“Flew, huh? Why would a human be flying around these parts?” Its breath ruffled Kylon’s hair as it spoke in a low, threatening voice.

“Look, I didn’t know this area was ‘prohibited’, okay? There were no signs as far as I know.”

With that, the giant scoffed and let out a deafening, sarcastic laugh, the loud voice reverberating in his bones and ringing in his ears.

“You sure are a funny one. Do you not understand the danger you are under?”

Kylon felt tension return to his body as he shivered under that icy blue glare.

“W-Well, since it was an accident, c-could you let me go? Then I’ll just pick up my airship, walk out of here, and leave you alone. How about it?”

The grip around him closed in tighter and Kylon yelped in pain.

“You dare suggest I let you go after crashing into my land and setting the forest on fire with your garbage?!” – it bellowed and Kylon wished desperately to cover his ears. The giant sneered. – “No, I’m afraid this will not be possible. I’m taking you and your toy with me.”

With that, the young inventor felt desperation rising within him. No, no no no, he could not be taken away. He had to return home, Rosemary was waiting for him. He struggled in vain under the giant’s suffocating grip.

“N-no! Wait, please! We can talk about it, I’ll do anything! Please, I need to go back!”

His desperate pleas were deafened by the fist that enclosed around him, obscuring his vision. The giant felt the squirming human in his hand, and scowled. Good, he managed to break this one apart as well.

Kylon felt his stomach plummeting once again as the hand lowered. It opened to reveal the inside of a leather pouch attached to its hip, in which Kylon was hastily dropped in. The giant closed the ropes around its opening and Kylon pushed himself to get up, but the uneven surface and the giant’s abrupt movement as it got up made him fall back again. He tried to steady himself but it was futile, as the giant’s steps bounced the bag and threw him around all directions. His breathing became rapid as the scarce air inside the bag suffocated him. No, not yet, he would not panic inside a closed space yet.

Although he could not see anything, Kylon felt the giant hunching over and heard it picking his airship with both hands, folding it with loud cracks until it was sizeable enough to carry with one massive arm. Although the ship was big, he still managed to lift it with one arm alone. Kylon shuddered. Such a monumental being was not meant to exist.

When the giant started walking away from that area, each step echoed in the ground, shaking the earth with the beast’s powerful stride. Kylon forced himself to take deep breaths and concentrate. He had to find a way to escape. Somehow. He mapped on his head the directions the giant was turning, and how many steps it was taking. Kylon did not know how many human steps that equaled to, but he would figure that out eventually. Right now, he only needed to know how to navigate back to the point they previously were.

.........................................................................

The hinge of a door closing indicated the return of her brother. He had to have brought big brother Audwin back, for he had promised her he would play with her dolls later. But when Otilia ran towards the eldest, she only saw the sad look on his eyes

“Where’s Audwin?”

She said with a wobble in her voice, trying to contain her tears. Benedictus’s head shaking sideways was enough for her to know: he was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry, Otilia.”

She hiccupped and looked down, tears clouding her vision. Her oldest brother’s armored arms embraced her, the cold metal making her shiver.

Her brother was no more, and his promise to her would not be realized.

[driftingmoonmenace]

Dunno if it'll quite fit within the confines of the AU but it seems fun...

"What are you doing here?" "I got locked out of my house." "Again?"

LMAO I can definitely work with this!! (Also this turned out way longer than I expected but enjoy! ✨)

You started the long trudge from the parking lot, having parked your van closer to the entrance so at least you didn't have to walk that far to and from. Locking the van behind you like clockwork, you headed to where the bright neon lights greeted you.

Ten minutes later you found yourself all the way down to the large wooden doors that led into the Daycare. The lights were off so you knew what to expect but it was better than nothing with the predicament you were in.

Taking a deep breath you pushed open one of the doors. The soft glowing light from the huge TV screen behind the security desk gave you just enough light to see where you were going.

Almost immediately you were greeted, as if right on queue.

"What are you doing here?" Came a familiar gravelly voice from the top of one of the play structures. Though it was pitch black outside of the soft glow around the desk, you knew he was standing up there looking down at you. Like a cat poised to strike their prey, given the chance.

In the beginning it might have scared you shitless, because lets be frank, he was good at scaring you. Now the harshness was almost expected. You were back in his domain after all. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the thought. "I got locked outta my house, dude," you stated with a nonchalant shrug. Plopping down in one of the security desk chairs, you made yourself comfortable. Tempted to grab your tablet to at least give yourself an excuse of being there.

There was a brief pause.

"Again?" The acidic tone had seemed to dissipate and more so...concerned? It took you off guard but you were too exhausted to outwardly show it.

"Joey's out of town until tomorrow and I lost my house key again."

While you could have stayed in your van all night, something you'd done plenty of times in the past, you couldn't help but be drawn back to the pizzaplex. Like a siren singing their sweet song to lure you in even though danger lurked just around the corner for you.

The Daycare Attendant being the siren in this case, but heaven knows you'd actually let him know that. He already had a hard time believing you cared about him, no need to make it worse.

A faint red glow approached the desk, almost cautiously, until the figure it belonged to stood right in front of it. He was just full of surprises tonight you thought to yourself.

"You're tired."

"Yeah, I sure hope I would be." The comment came out a little too sarcastic for your taste but being this exhausted made your filter go out the window.

Whether Moon was offended or not, you couldn't tell, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it before you saw movement again.

Moon casually leaned down against the desk, crossing his arms out in front of him and resting his head on top to look at you. Turning his head a few clicks to the left. You could finally see his face which only showed an unamused expression. The sharp harshness that he gave you daily, again, didn't seem to be present. "Sleep."

You couldn't stop yourself from snorting at that and watched as the familiar disdainful look Moon gave you started to seep through.

"Where am I supposed to sleep exactly? To be honest with you, I'm not even sure I should be here since my shift ended over an hour ago."

There was an audible annoyed sigh and Moon pushed himself off the desk, retreating back into the dark. You were tempted to follow him, but you weren't exactly that comfortable with him yet so you stayed put. He showed back up at the desk a few minutes later with a blanket and an outstretched hand.

"I made you a spot. Come on."

This made your eyebrows raise immediately. Moon was never this nice to you. At least not that your fatigued brain could recall. Slowly standing up from the desk, you cautiously made yourself around it, almost like he'd done earlier.

You hesitantly reached your hand out to his, with his large hand overshadowing yours as he took hold, before you let yourself be slowly led into the dark.

[bxcketbarnes]

Assassination to Soulmates

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Soulmate AU)

Words: 4200+

Author’s Note: I see a lot of soulmate type pov’s on tik tok and decided to write one of my own, and here it is. I did not expect it to be so long... oops. Uh, I really hope you enjoy it! Lemme know what you think, okay? I love feedback xox

"Mr. Pierce says that he needs to be eliminated," you hear a gruff voice say, and your brows furrow together, halting your footsteps.

You peek your head around the corner of the dark alleyway, seeing two men with guns in their hands and another man kneeling on the pavement.

"Well, we shouldn't be doing it right here," the other guy suggests and turns his head towards you. You quietly gasp and shuffle out of view before they could see you, feeling your heart pounding against your chest. "There could be eyes anywhere and then we'll get out asses chewed out."

"It's almost midnight, dude. There's no one out right now. C’mon, just fucking do it so I can go home."

You peek around the corner once more in time to see one of the men lift his gun before shooting the civilian in the head. Your eyes widen and a louder gasp leaves your throat, gaining the attention of the two gunmen.

"Goddamnit, I told you!" One of the men shouts and you start booking it down the street.

You start to hyperventilate as you can hear the footsteps running after you. A few gunshots are heard and you duck your head before running down a side street.

Fuck fuck fuck. You curse to yourself as you desperately try to find somewhere to hide. You eye the dumpster warily, not exactly wanting to jump into it but there's no way you're outrunning these guys.

You quickly throw the dumpster lid up and jump inside, resisting the urge to gag as you quietly close it afterward. You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps become louder, huffing and puffing leaving the men's lips.

"Goddamnit. She got away," one of them states and you chew on your lip, keeping your breathing steady.

"Not for long. We'll send him after her. Pierce will know what to do. C'mon," the other mentions and you wait a bit longer as their footsteps grow quieter.

You sit in the dumpster for what feels like forever before deciding to finally leave. Your heart beats quickly against your chest as you constantly look over your shoulder during your walk home.

Who were they?

Who's Pierce?

Are they in a gang?

What did they mean by sending him after you? Who were they talking about?

Why did they kill that man?

So many questions go through your head as you shakily unlock your apartment door, slipping inside the dark space. You let out a deep breath and rest your head against the wooden object, feeling like you're going to vomit.

You lock your door behind you, deciding that you're not going to leave for a bit before things cool down.

It's been almost a week since the night you witnessed a murder. Almost a week you've been hiding out in your apartment, too scared to leave for anything. Your anxiety has heightened since that night and you find yourself pacing in your bedroom multiple times a day.

A sigh leaves your lips and runs a hand through your hair, deciding to take a bath to ease your mind. You strip yourself out of your night clothes before walking into the bathroom, turning the faucet on.

You wait a few minutes for the water to fill up, staring at the clearness as that night flashes through your memory. You shake your head before letting out another sigh, needing to get your mind off the horrible event.

You grab a bath bomb from under your sink and remove the plastic wrapping before dropping it into the tub. You step in and lower yourself into the steaming hot water, your hands gripping the edge of the tub so hard your knuckles are white.

"I can't live in fear forever," you say to yourself while sinking further into the water. You calm your nerves for almost an hour when your door opening catches your attention.

You quietly try to get out of the tub, leaving the water in it, and grab a towel from the rack beside you. You press your lips together as you tightly wrap the fluffy material around you, securing it before walking closer to the closed door.

Something crashes from the other room and your breath hitches in your throat, causing you to stumble into the shelving unit beside you. You wince as a few things get knocked off the shelf and you quickly turn the light off before hiding in the corner.

You suppress a scream when the bathroom door gets kicked open, the wooden structure coming off the hinges completely. What the fuck. Your eyes look towards the man who walks into the room, his long hair and the mask he's wearing covering his face.

You swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes come into contact with the metal arm he's repping. Who is this guy? You think to yourself as he walks farther into the room.

Taking a deep breath, you quietly sneak your way towards the open doorway without having the strange man notice you. A gasp leaves your lips as he turns around immediately, seeing his steel-blue eyes reflecting off the moonlight.

You quickly make a run for it, not making it very far as the man easily catches up. You go to open your front door when he slams you against it. A groan escapes your lips and you glance over your shoulder to see him raising his fist. You dodge his fist, crouching a bit as the metal fist bursts through the door.

Your heart pounds against your chest as he suddenly wraps his hand around your throat. Eyes widening in fear, you start to pry his metal hand off of you. You're gasping for air as his grip tightens and your eyesight begins to grow fuzzy. "P-Please…" you plead as best as you could, looking into the eyes of the man in front of you. "I-I won't say anything I swear. I'll move to a different country if I have to."

The man doesn't lighten his grip and you're sure that you're going to die here. Black dots begin to fill your vision as your struggling dies down. Your window shatters and the man gripping your throat suddenly lets go of you.

You fall to the floor, taking in deep breaths as you attempt to crawl away. You look towards your shattered window to see Captain America standing in your living room, relief filling your body as the two men begin to fight.

It doesn't take long before the metal-armed man jumps out the window, but not before looking back at you one more time. You cough a bit, gathering your oxygen back as your eyes begin to finally focus.

"You okay, Miss?" The Captain asks you while kneeling beside you.

You nod your head a bit before looking up at the man. "T-Thank you," you choke out and rest your head against the floor.

Captain America gently moves your head to look at your neck, seeing the skin already bruising. "Why was he after you?" He questions with a furrow on his brows.

You slowly sit up, letting out another cough as you rest your back against the wall. "I witnessed two people kill someone," you inform him and a hum leaves his lips.

"I'm Steve," he introduces while holding his right hand out for you to shake.

"Y/N," you tell him and raise your left arm to shake his hand, his blue eyes drifting towards the birthmark on your arm.

Steve tilts his head before looking up at you through your lashes. "Interesting mark," he mumbles and your cheeks flush, pulling your arm away from him. "My friend, Bucky… he used to have one just like it."

Your heart breaks at the past tense he uses, your eyes casting down to the unique shape on your arm. "Used? He- Is he dead?" You ask softly and Steve nods his head.

"It's strange though since he was born in 1917," Steve mentions and a short groan leaves your lips. Of course.

"Only I would have a soulmate that's not from this day and age," you sigh while subconsciously rubbing the mark. "I've kinda got used to the fact that I'll be alone, so I guess it's not so bad."

Steve frowns and lays a hand on top of yours. "You'll find someone. Whether it be your soulmate or not. Maybe there's another out there that has the same mark."

You nod your head, not wanting to talk about it and Steve moves to stand up. "Steve?" You ask and look up at him, gaining his attention. "What am I supposed to do? I-I can't stay here."

He smiles kindly at you and holds his hand out for you to take. "C'mon, I know a place where you can stay," he mentions and your lips part slightly and you grab a hold of his hand.

-

"So, this Winter Soldier is after her? Damn, he's got a lot of contracts," Sam mentions as you, him, Natasha, and Steve sit at the table.

Steve brought you to Sam's place, informing you that you can trust him to keep you safe. You fiddle with your fingers as you listen to their conversation, not making any attempt to say anything.

"Y/N?" Steve asks and you snap your head up, looking towards the man. "The three of us are going to leave. We've got some stuff to do, but please stay inside and out of sight, okay?"

You gulp and nod your head, mumbling your thanks to Sam. The man smiles gently and waves his hand. "It's no problem. A friend of Steve's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help," he tells you and you smile in reply.

Steve pats your shoulder, mumbling to you that it'll be alright before the three of them walk out the door. You wait a few minutes before standing up from your chair, walking towards the window to see if everything is clear.

A deep breath comes from your lips as you think how stupid this plan is, but you couldn't get Steve's friend he mentioned out of your head. You recall the blonde mentioning that Bucky was alongside him in the war before he fell from a train in Germany, so you decided to sneak to the museum to see if they have anything on him.

You grab one of Sam's hoodies that sits on the edge of the couch, quickly putting it on before walking out the front door. You shove your hands into the hoodie pocket while lowering yourself into the cab, telling the driver to bring you to the museum.

You pay the driver once you get to your destination before heading inside. You walk around the Smithsonian, taking in brief information as you suddenly find Bucky's memorial. You see a picture of him and Steve together, smiles on both of your faces, and your chest clenches.

He's cute. You think to yourself as you frown, seeing a full-body photo of the man and notice the unique birthmark on his left arm. You bring your hand to your mark, gently rubbing it as you silently wish you could've met him.

You've always been confused by the whole soulmate's thing. You've never heard about two people who lived in different generations having the same mark. It made you curious for sure, but you didn't know any expert on the matter.

You leave the Smithsonian after almost an hour when you hear screams in the distance. You throw your hood up, not wanting anyone who works with those two men to recognize you as your feet take you closer to the chaos.

You're hiding behind a few cars that have been knocked over and your breath hitches in your throat upon seeing the Winter Soldier and Steve fighting. You watch as Steve throws the soldier over his shoulder, noticing that his mask fell off in the middle of it.

Steve's eyes widen as the man slowly turns to face him and your eyes begin to widen as well. How's that… "Bucky?" He asks and the brunette tilts his head a bit.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" The Winter Soldier asks before going to raise his gun when Sam comes flying in, kicking him in the back.

You quickly leave the scene as Steve gets arrested by S.H.I.E.L.D., noticing Bucky walking down an alleyway and you stupidly decide to follow him. You keep your head down slightly as the two of you walk farther into the alley, trying to gather the courage to yell out to the man.

Your brows furrow together when you look back up to see the Winter Soldier disappeared. "What the-" you mumble and quickly turn around, finding yourself alone. You turn back around and let out a gasp as the soldier now stands in front of you.

His metal arm wraps around your throat once more, pressing you against the brick wall. "Who are you?" He asks and your eyes stare into his.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper and Bucky pulls out a knife. You panic slightly and grab a hold of his wrist, stopping him from stabbing you.

Flashes of the two of you together flood your minds, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Another gasp leaves your lips as the flashes fade and tears come to your eyes. The soldier suddenly lets go of you and stumbles back, a look of confusion on his face.

"What was that? What did you do?" He asks and you can hear the agitation in his voice.

"I-I didn't do anything," you stutter and place your hands up in defense. You swallow thickly and push the sleeve upon your arm, revealing the birthmark etched in your skin. "Do you… do you recognize this at all?"

Bucky's blue eyes dart down to your forearm, seeing the unique mark before furrowing his brows. He gently brings his hand to your arm, feeling his fingertips glide over your warm skin.

Before he has the chance to say anything a blunt force meets the side of your head, knocking you out instantly. Bucky manages to catch you before you fall, glancing to his left to see two agents standing beside him.

"Pierce needs you. Bring her too. He'll want to see her," he states before walking away.

-

You jolt awake when someone throws a cold bucket of water onto you, a yelp leaving your lips as you shake your head. "What-" you cut yourself off as you try to move your limbs only to find them restrained. You look around the room, seeing about five other agents standing around along with a few scientists.

Blue eyes meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat, seeing Bucky sitting in the chair across from you. "Buck-" you start but get cut off by the man beside you, your cheek stinging by the slap you received.

"Not a word," the man growls and you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head in reply.

The Winter Soldier stares off as the scientists work on his arm, looking to be lost in his mind. You jump when Bucky suddenly swings his metal arm, sending the scientist that's working on it across the room.

The guards raise their guns, aiming them at the man and you start to worry that they might kill him. Your cheat heaves rapidly as you keep your eyes on him, hearing the door to whatever room we're in opening before closing once more.

"Mission report," an older gentleman demands and you tear your eyes away from Bucky. "Oh, and a familiar face. A job you couldn't finish I see."

Bucky goes to move out of his seat when the older man walks towards me only to have two agents hold him back. You try to pry your hands from the restraints, wanting nothing more to be out of this place.

A gasp leaves your lips when the man slaps you in the same spot as the last slap you received. Tears spill from your eyes as the stinging almost becomes unbearable. "Leave her alone," Bucky suddenly says, causing the man in front of you to whirl his head around.

"Interesting," he goes and looks between the two of you, a smirk on his lips. "Now, what would be the reason why our asset would suddenly want to protect you?"

"Mr. Pierce," an agent pipes up causing the blonde to look towards the man standing beside you. The agent lifts your sleeve to reveal the birthmark on your arm. "We believe that they're somehow soulmates."

Pierce clicks his tongue before letting out a laugh. "That is interesting indeed, isn't it? I'll get to you later," he tells you and turns to face Bucky. "Mission report, now."

Bucky's eyes stay on yours and you can see a tinge of softness in them when Pierce crouches in front of him slightly. You jump once again when the older man backhands Bucky, the soldier whipping his head a bit before furrowing his brows.

"The man on the bridge," he mumbles and looks towards Pierce, "who was he?"

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment," Pierce tells him and Bucky's eyes dart towards yours.

"I knew him."

Pierce grabs the stool beside him before sitting down onto it. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos, and tomorrow morning we're going to give it a push. But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine. And HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves," he explains to the soldier.

"But, I knew him," Bucky states once more before pressing his lips together. You can practically see his brain putting the pieces together about Steve and you're feeling relieved. Bucky looks back towards you once again, seeing an unreadable emotion in his blue eyes. "And she's my soulmate."

Pierce lets out a sigh and stands up from the stool, telling the scientist beside him to prep Bucky. "He's been out of cryo freeze too long," the man in the lab coat explains as your heart begins to pound in your chest.

"Then wipe him and start over."

"W-Wait," you whisper to yourself as the two scientists lean him back in the chair. Bucky places the mouth guard into his mouth when his eyes meet yours. His chest heaves quickly when he gets locked into place, his head leaning back as the electrode machine begins to descend onto his face. "Stop!"

You thrash in your chair as Bucky's muffled screams echo off the walls. Tears stream down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut, not being able to watch what's happening to him.

"What do we do with her?" An agent asks the older man and you can feel his eyes on you.

"Wait until he's done and then have him kill her," Pierce orders before walking out of the room.

A couple of the agents undo your restraints and lift you from your chair. You thrash and kick amongst their grasp, doing everything you can to get out of their death grip. Screams leave your lips as you look back towards Bucky, his screams stopping as the scientists finish the mind wipe.

"Bucky, please!" You desperately call for help as the two men throw you into a concrete room before shutting the door.

You pant heavily as you back up against the corner of the room, running a hand through your hair. You can faintly hear them ordering him around on the other side of the door and you look up at the ceiling, feeling like that’ll be the place you'll die in.

The door bursts open and you jump, cowering against the wall as Bucky walks into the room. His blue eyes are stone cold as he waltz's over to you before wrapping his hand around your throat for the third time.

"Bucky," you plead, your hand resting on his chest and you frown when the flashes don't play through your mind again. Your lip trembles and you gasp for air when his hand squeezes.

You slowly bring your hand to his face, gently stroking his cheek as you begin to grow dizzy. Memories from the first time you met the Winter Soldier plays through your head as you slowly lose oxygen.

Bucky releases you and you slump to the ground, growing unconscious as the brunette looks down at you. He can still feel your hand on his face as he glances over his shoulder.

I'm getting you out of here. He suddenly thinks to himself while coming up with a plan.

-

Bucky drags his fingertips up to your spine as you sleep peacefully, his lips peppering light kisses along your arm. A soft knock on the door makes the man glance over his shoulder to see Steve leaning against the frame of it.

"How is she?" He asks while crossing his arms over his chest.

"She's good. No major injuries which are good," Bucky sighs while slowly removing himself from the bed, making sure not to wake you.

The two men walk out of the room you and Bucky share, the ex-Winter Soldier looking back at you once more before quietly shutting the door. "How are you feeling? With all of this?" Steve asks, causing Bucky's brows to furrow.

"What do you mean?"

A slight laugh comes from Steve as the blonde looks towards him. "The whole Soulmate thing. Is it going well?" He clarifies.

"Oh, uh, yeah. It's going great. Other than the times that I tried to kill her when we first met, I'd say we're doing well," he explains and scratches at his jaw.

Bucky and Steve sit at the table in the main area, seeing some of the others watching whatever's playing on the television. "Do you still think about it? The time you two first met?" Steve mentions and Bucky sighs before nodding his head in response. "You know that it's been four years, right?"

"Doesn't stop me from thinking about it, Steve. Hell, I still think about the people I've wronged as the Winter Soldier," Bucky comments with a sigh, leaning his chin against the palm of his hand.

"Did she tell you what she did when she first heard about you?" Steve asks and Bucky furrows his brow before shaking his head. "It was right after you jumped out the window of her apartment. I noticed the mark on her arm and mentioned that you used to have a similar mark on your arm back in the day."

Steve notices you walk into the living area and you press your finger to your lips, silently telling him to not say anything.

"So, Y/N told me this a few years later but when I brought her to Sam's place to keep her safe… she snuck out to go to the Smithsonian to learn more about you. She thought you died in the war, and well, so did I obviously."

Bucky's heart flutters a bit at the story he's telling, fiddling with his fingers. "I just… I don't know how she feels about everything, you know? Like, we've never really actually talked about it," he sighs and you frown from behind him.

You drape your arms over his shoulder, causing the older man to jump in his chair before whipping his head back. "Hi, Buck," you whisper and feel him relax at the sound of your voice.

Bucky rests his flesh hand on top of yours and squeezes gently. "Hey. How long have you been standing there?" He asks and you chuckle in response, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Long enough to know that you don't know how I feel," you inform him and Bucky's heart stops, not wanting you to find out this way. "Why don't we go talk?"

Your soulmate nods his head and stands up from the chair he's sitting in. You lace your fingers together and lead him back to your shared bedroom. Once inside the room, Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and you climb onto his lap.

"What's going on inside that pretty head of yours?" You softly ask while running your hands through his now short hair.

Bucky's hands rest on your hips, gripping the soft flesh every few seconds as he takes a deep breath. "Do you ever wish that you had someone… normal? Someone who's not a murderer?" He questions and you shake your head immediately. "You didn't even think about it."

"I didn't have to. Bucky, I don't care if you used to be the Winter Soldier and that you once almost tried to kill me. That wasn't you. You were being brainwashed by a horrible group of people," you explain to him and his blue eyes soften at your words. You smile at him before leaning in to kiss his lips. "I love you in every way possible. You're funny, kind, dorky. Everything a girl could ever ask for. So, please, stop worrying about me."

"God, you're incredible. How did I get so lucky?" Bucky asks with a slight laugh, hiding his face in your neck.

Giggles leave your lips as you card your fingers through his hair, pressing gentle kisses to the side of his head. "We all need someone to keep us grounded. I'm just glad I got you."

-

Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg​ @bumblebet-20​ @queen-of-mischief​

[callmebliss-got-swamped]

“Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people.”

Context under cut. Content warning for gore

In my dream last night I was somehow managing to buy a house. Massive, rambling, old, lots of antique furniture in and flourishing plants still there. Was taking a tour with my ex, god knows why, who was excited about things in the place for me but his presence drove me to explore faster than I wanted so as to not be in the same room.

Gorgeous…greenhouse? Conservatory? Lofty glass-ceilings room with potted plants all around and quite a few in pots suspended by chains from the ceiling. Warm and bright, all my plants would love it.

A beautiful study with a fireplace taking up a whole wall, dark wood built-ins with glass-front cabinets. One of those clocks with the perpetually spinning orbs under a glass dome.

In one room there was a bench sized and shaped structure, turned akimbo mostly toward the wall. The seat area was round wooden rails, with actual wooden seat platform on it large enough for one person at one end. My ex declared it to be a shoeshine bench; there were foot supports in front of the seat for such an activity so I had to presume he was right. Couldn’t test whether the seat could still slide along the rails, though, because there were four 80s-90s era mini electric keyboards on the rails. Collecting dust in a house where everything else was clean.

I moved on without finding the kitchen, climbing the stairs. The upper floors were a little more dim, and had a stranger layout, with half-flights of stairs. Went up one to find a room with the doorway filled with two panes of glass on hinges; the one on the stairs side I had to press and release to have it spring out and swing toward me. The one on the other side did the same in the other direction. It led to a playroom with toys mostly put away but others still scattered on the far side of the room. The glass door was, apparently, so a parent could glance up the stairs and see the kids still safe and playing in there.

I left through a door to one side; coming up the half stairs, the ceiling had slanted sideways over me, indicating another set of stairs above running perpendicular.

This was when I ran into the small man. Somehow it did not bother me he was there. He reminded me of The Old Man Of Hoy from Sense8, but much more compact, only three feet tall at most.

At one point I discovered an oak and wrought iron built in foldout stair made to let me climb to open some sort of door. I pulled it out using the round safe-door type handle, climbed up, but the door was locked.

“Don’t have the key.” The old man said. “There’s another way to the fifth floor.” He sounded unsure of himself but I followed his swift pace around to the bottom of a staircase that climbed through a space that got smaller as we went up, to a door that was 1/3 height and also locked. But I had a piece of flat metal and a Bobby pin I could bend, and a rudimentary experience of basic lock picking, and I got it open.

The old man and I were hip to hip as we shoved our top halves through the doorway. The other side was dark, so I pulled out my phone and set it to flashlight. To the right, the ceiling slanted down in two sections; eaves, flat wood surfaces painted a violet-tinged grey with white accents. On one end the floor opened up to a sharply dropping ramp that disappeared into shadow. At the time it struck me as a bad slide for a person to go down, but now I think it was a slide to move boxes from eaves storage to rooms below without having to carry them downstairs/through rooms. Like a dumbwaiter with the simplest of physical mechanics.

We turned our heads and my light to the left, and the ceilings rose to full height, picking out open doorways to very still rooms, objects and doorknobs thick with dust and some furniture draped with cloths. The old man crowed with delight. “You found it - The Cousins’ House! The house within a house!” We scrambled through and to our feet, and somehow I know this section was just that - a whole ‘nother house, attached and separated, from days long past when folks might come visiting for months at a time.

We explored here slowly, for this house was dark as midnight and even more maze like than the main house. I rounded a square pillar with piles of abandoned items around its base all dusted and cobwebby, and there was a hint of movement at the edge of the light. I moved closer - it was a doll, perhaps the size of a standing American Girl Doll, no taller than my knees as it stood there. It’s head moved, turning away, and a little-girl voice said something I do not now recall. My friends standing behind me (I do not know who, but they were there) were terrified, so I said, “oh look, a baaaaayby! Get the baby!” in a playful singsong voice. I stopped toward it to scoop up the doll, to show my friend it was perhaps a really good windup doll.

That is when the doll ran. That little girl voice was repeating,” don’t catch the baby!” While I chased it through the maze of rooms and halls, barely keeping it in my shaker flashlight, calling out, “catch the baaaayby!” My friends were yelling to stop, no, don’t try to catch it. Wet came back round to where they stood and I snatched the doll up, swaddling it in the blanket that was wrapped around it and cradling it in my arms to show my friends. It’s face was turned away.

“Who’s a baby?” I asked jovially, stroking the fringe of its bangs. My friends were relaxing now. The doll’s head swiveled to face me—

ABRUPTLY I was no longer in that place, that situation, those people. I was staring from very close up into the face of 90s era pixie-cut Winona Ryder. Her pale skin was glistening with moisture, her teeth perfectly white as she hissed, “Corporations are the soulless brains of ratless people.” She took a deep breath, ragged, as if talking was an effort, and said it again. “Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people. Corporations are the soulless brains of ratless people. Corporations are the soulless brains of rat-filled people. ” Over and over again she repeated it and slowly my view drew back like a camera pulling away she was still gasping and hissing it as I saw that she had no arms, rough-edges of flesh around wet pits where they had been pulled off. She wore nothing, she was in a bath, deep cuts down her body that was dappled with moisture - from sweat, from steam. There were long streaky tunnels of blood down her skin. Finally she could speak no longer, her head lolling in a deathless silent scream, the inside of her mouth blackened. Her legs were torn away the same way as her arms. The bath water was milky. When I was far enough away I could see a thick ruddy cephalopodean tentacle rising from the bath, lashing toward me.

I awoke. Full of What The Fuck?

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering. 

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k 

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you

also,,, my first kinda long fic?? 

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.

The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.

You on the other hand had other plans. 

What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.

A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message. 

[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]

Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord? 

You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle. 

Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well. 

Lee Felix

His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days. 

But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?

You. 

All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?

“Looking for this?”

The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms. 

You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements. 

Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them. 

“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”

He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear. 

“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”

You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened. 

“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.

Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.

“You”

You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked. 

“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”

You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind. 

He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes. 

♡ 

The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.

It was Felix.

His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist. 

“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step. 

“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather. 

All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above. 

“Wh- how do you know-” 

Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter. 

“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.” 

“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity. 

“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”

You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.

“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”

You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals. 

“Why?”

You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more. 

“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.

“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.

“I never said that!” 

“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”

Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.

“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions. 

“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”

Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes. 

“Really? You would do that?”

Felix nods.

“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”

“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.

“Suck me off”

Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion. 

“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”

Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt. 

Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you. 

“I’ll do it! I will do it!” 

You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him. 

The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours. 

“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick. 

Thank god that he was at least hot. 

Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;

“What? Bigger than you thought?”

You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears. 

“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”

“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness. 

There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. 

Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke. 

“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”

You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks. 

“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”

Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself. 

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process. 

“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”

The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm. 

It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt. 

You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently. 

“Swallow”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help. 

“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”

You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files. 

The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him. 

“Thank you”

You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.

♡ 

You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish. 

A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.

“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all” 

You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files. 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea” 

He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies. 

“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away” 

Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone. 

“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?” 

Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance. 

Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy. 

“Do you like living alone y/n? ” 

The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.

“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?

“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self. 

“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;

“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you. 

“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”

You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling. 

“Want some tea?”

For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure. 

You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes. 

“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment. 

“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”

“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”

Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”

You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man. 

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”

You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea. 

“Open the tea pot maybe?”

Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive. 

“What tea is this?” 

You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.

“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”

You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall. 

“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”

Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often. 

“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”

You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person. 

“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”

You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.

“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”

“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”

“Shut it”

You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off. 

“What do we do now?” 

You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.

“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”

You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards. 

“I wanna change the deal y/n”

Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings. 

“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”

Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts. 

“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”

He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.

Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.

His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt. 

“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”

You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?

Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.

“W-waited for,,, m-me?”

His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.

“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”

You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch. 

A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor. 

Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.

“Huh? Shy, babygirl?” 

You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan. 

“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”

You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.

“F-felix! faster,,, please”

Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt. 

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix. 

The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”

The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock. 

You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on. 

“Is this a one time thing or,,,” 

You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.

“Let’s be friends”

You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.

“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”

Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real. 

“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”

You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground. 

Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare. 

His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face. 

“I’m sorry, y/n”

His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting. 

“Hm? Look at me, y/n”

Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his. 

“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”

He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears. 

“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”

You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust. 

“But one rule” he said.

You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.

“No falling in love”

You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid. 

“So what do you say, y/n?”

He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow. 

You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question. 

But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup. 

[calumxkisses]

Us | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: Michael and Crystal take you and Calum along to visit their wedding hall and it's the perfect location for a dance full of love.

a/n: am i obsessed with the idea of dancing with Calum? yes. let me know if you liked it. i'm still not really good at writing fluff imagines but i'm learning and i'll hopefully do better in the future.

you should read this imagine while listening to: us

➳

“So, this is the wedding hall?” Calum asks as he enters looking around the room. The structure is huge, there is still a lot to do but some decorations have already been fixed.

“Yeah, there are a few things we would like to change but it’s pretty much gonna be like this.” Michael responds, walking inside the room and looking around.

“It's lovely, guys. It's like being in a fairy tale.” You whisper while looking around the room. Your fingers are barely intertwined with Calum's as you look at the room, admiring the ceiling and the windows overlooking the sea.

You turn to Crystal and notice a tear running down her face as she admires the room. A smile forms on your face as you see your best friend so happy, her dream is coming true and you couldn't feel more proud of her.

This marriage has overcome the strangest obstacles, the biggest certainly was having to be postponed due to a pandemic, but their love has never stopped in front of these, it has grown more and more and to be able to be among the witnesses of their love is among the things you are most grateful for.

The room is very large, has an oval shape and is surrounded by windows overlooking the sea. Some tables have already been set up and embellished, they are also circular in shape and have floral decorations in the center. The tablecloth is embroidered in lace, it is pearl white but the different colored decorations, which accompany the flowers in the center, make the table look wonderful and original, recalling Crystal's passion for plants.

The chairs that surround them, simple but still elegant, have ribbons that decorate them. They’re gold and white, yet their simple design makes them look gorgeous.

“We are going to talk to the wedding planner to fix some things, in the meantime you can stay here and see if there is something else that we should change.” Crystal's voice grabs your attention, as she approaches Michael and takes his hand in hers. The wedding planner is at the entrance, smilingly waits for the couple and, for a moment, you think that there can’t be a more beautiful job than being able to make the dreams of couples come true.

“Calum, can you check that the stereo is working? They told me they fixed it but I haven't been able to check it yet, you'd be doing me a big favor.” Michael asks as he leaves the room grinning and not leaving time to Calum to reply.

“Gotcha.” Your boyfriend replies, shaking his head in amusement and smiling.

As Calum approaches the speakers, you take another moment to admire the room.

Looking up, your breath locks in your chest as Crystal's gorgeous decorations leave you in awe. The ceiling, which was previously simply white and wooden, is decorated with strips of tulle hanging like waves, giving life to a sense of peace and softness. The stripes extend all over the ceiling, giving the impression of being in the middle of the clouds.

In addition to the tulle, in a delicate way, some threads of small lights descend from the ceiling, romantically illuminating the room and creating an intimate and unobtrusive atmosphere.

A small elegant chandelier hangs in the center of the room, it is gold and its light is not as strong as someone might think, it is ideal to keep the room more illuminated in the most important moments, but its presence is more scenic than functional.

Some leaves and some flowers come down intertwined along the edges of the windows, hiding the window frame and making the atmosphere of the room even more simple and elegant.

The main theme is certainly white and gold, but Crystal and Michael made sure to add a few more hints of color as well, in order to make the room less monotonous and more fairytale.

The light inside the room disappears, leaving only the small lights that descend from the ceiling on. You open your mouth to ask what happened, but the words do not come out as your gaze rests on the sea outside the room, calm as in the best days, while a wonderful sunset is reflecting on the clear water. The sky is painted orange and pink, some clouds are scattered in the sky and you no longer have any doubts on why your friends have chosen this location.

There is a sense of peace in the air and you feel like you are in a different world, in a world of calm and joy, while the land where you have lived in these difficult months seems a distant memory.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Calum whispers in your ear as his hands rest on your hips from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking outside.

“If it's a dream, please don't wake me up.” You whisper, closing your eyes and letting the sea air coming in through the window on your left, caress your face.

“I could never do that, you are too beautiful when you sleep.” You can see him smile as he whispers those words and, as every time he smiles, you smile too. There is something contagious about his joyful expressions, they warm your heart and you can't help but share them with him.

“Does the stereo system work?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, turning around to face him and leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

“Do you want to try it with me?” he asks with a smile, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and pressing a couple of buttons on the screen.

“What do you mean?” A confused expression forms on your face. The long lilac summer dress moves with every blow of the wind but the summer temperature makes sure that you don't feel cold.

Calum puts the phone back in his pocket and, after a few seconds, the first notes of your favorite love song can be heard throughout the room.

While you smile, your boyfriend clears his throat and, reaching out his hand, asks you: “May I have this dance?”

Your cheeks turn red and the muscles of your face stretch into an even bigger smile as you nod and grab his hand. Calum walks you to the center of the room and holds your hips, bringing you closer to him.

And, as the first words of one of the most beautiful love songs echo in the room, you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes as your feet move to the sweet rhythm of the music.

Sometimes I'm beaten

Sometimes I'm broken

'Cause sometimes this is nothing but smoke

Is there a secret?

Is there a code?

Can we make it better?

'Cause I'm losing hope

Calum had never loved dancing, at least not this much. His footsteps were limited to a few twirls and jumps on stage or some weird movement on the dance floor, when the alcohol level in his body was way too high to be ashamed of anything he was doing. He had always seen dancing as something that did not belong to him, an activity that stressed him more than it should, and he had never imagined that he could love it so much.

But after you arrived in his life, one of the moments he loves the most is to dance with you, at two in the morning, in the kitchen, to the notes of any love song you are obsessed with in that moment, in the peace of the silence and of the sleepless night, while Duke looks at you confused and waits for the right moment to come ask for cuddles.

The way you let him hold you, the way you let yourself be vulnerable in front of him, away from judging eyes, and the way he feels like protecting you, in the darkness of the room, makes him feel a sense of calm that he hasn' t felt for a long time before your presence in his life.

And even if he was the universe's worst dancer and the whole world was watching him, he’d still dance with you.

Tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how could I believe in something

I believe in us

Calum squeezes your hand tightly as, observing you with eyes full of love, he spins you in front of him. The sunlight lights up your face and the man in front of you is sure he has never seen anything more beautiful. You look like a Greek goddess, the kind you hear in stories and in history books, the goddesses who saved the bravest soldiers and helped them in the toughest feats.

This is how he feels, ever since he saw in you a friend - and then a girlfriend - more than an enemy, he saw his little world in fractions being put back into place, with delicacy and love, and he is ready to sacrifice his most important assets to always have you on his side.

The sun is slowly setting, making room for the moon and all its stars. Yet, with him holding you tight, it seems to you that the world has stopped.

After the wreckage

After the dust

I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

Over the riots, above all the noise

Through all the worry, I still hear your voice

Calum would be able to describe every single moment he walked into the dark and you led his way out with your light. Whenever he had writer's block, whenever anxiety kept him from getting through his day, whenever his thoughts got too dark and the demons took over, you were there.

Your delicate hands caressing his face or the sweet melody of your voice whispering comforting words, Calum remembers every one of these moments, every single one.

When the world becomes too heavy and distressing, he knows that you will be by his side and that you will help him carry the heavy weight.

And when the insecurities make their way into him, you will always be ready to remind him that he deserves to be loved.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Between dance steps, Calum lulls you slowly, the song continues to echo in your ears, and even your jaw relaxes. It’s so calming to not feel the weight of the world and the speed of time but to be able to enjoy this moment with a light heart and a head empty of all worries. In a society that runs fast and demands perfection from everything, having the opportunity to be able to stop and be left alone in love and peace is a luxury that cannot always be granted. Especially when your boyfriend is in an internationally famous band and you are trying to make your smaller, yet still of great value, dreams come true.

There is no worry about having to say the right words, having to wear the best clothes or just being yourself and praying to be accepted by millions of people who don't know you but who judge you as being part of your life.

‘She's not good enough for him’ or ‘He deserves someone more beautiful, with a perfect body, with a good mental health’ or even ‘She doesn't really love him, she does it for the money’ And there are also those gorgeous people he meets often, who work in some radio or who know mutual friends, and immediately those words written under your photos get inside you and make every certainty collapse.

You look at yourself into the mirror and you think they're right, that you're not perfect and that he really deserves one of those cover girls or someone who won't make him worry if you don't answer the phone. Insecurities that, however, under the sheets of a now familiar home, Calum makes you forget about.

And the words he whispers to you every day, the way he looks at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the world, the consideration he has of you, the notes he leaves on the table when he goes out or all those details that he pays attention to, they convince you that he doesn't care what size you are, the color of your skin or the negative thoughts that cross your mind, he loves you for your intelligence, for the kindness you carry in your heart and the delicacy with which you treat him, for the funny sound of your laugh and the way you make him feel in heaven, while reminding him to always keep his feet on the ground. And those comments, those ideas, disappear in the blink of an eye.

And now, like every time you’re with him, with your head on his chest and with his arms holding you, with the sea in the background and the lights that illuminate that corner of paradise that Crystal created, everything seems to be in the right place.

Used to be kids living just for kicks

In cinema seats, learning how to kiss

Running through streets that were painted gold

We never believed we'd grow up like this

Calum had never had good words to describe his love life. He had had love stories he was not proud of, toxic or in which he hadn't really felt strong feelings, and of the only good stories he had had, he didn’t like to tell about them because he was ashamed of how he had lived them. He believed that he hadn’t committed enough or that he hadn’t loved in the right ways.

So, he had decided not to try anymore, to put aside that desire to want to create something with someone and the more the people around him fell in love with and the more he thought about the effort he should have made, and all that stress made him forget the meaning to love. He didn’t want to meet anyone anymore, his life was good as it was.

And when you showed up awkwardly, in ruined makeup and wet clothes, Calum had thought of a thousand reasons why he didn't want to deal with you. Who shows up at an event dressed like this? What kind of girls does Crystal meet? And the way you talked about how your umbrella broke halfway and how you were about to be hit by a car didn't interest him. Calum just wanted to eat at that restaurant, pulled there by his best friends after a day spent in the studio.

And when the party moved to a friend’s house, it only bothered him how carefully you made sure you didn't spill your drink as you moved between dancing bodies and wagging dogs. He couldn't stand how you talked about life to Ashton, the love you put into describing the people who were part of it.

And when he saw you a few weeks later, he hated the way you greeted him and the way you worried about how he was doing. All too cheesy, too filmy and unrealistic.

But then, without realizing it, between one hateful look and another, Calum listened with interest to the way you talked about your passions and hobbies, how you described the places you had visited and the cities you dreamed of seeing. He laughed at you dancing and smiled when you paid attention to what people were saying around you, mentally marking down all the information to make sure to always ask the right questions.

And he found himself wanting the same attention from you, to see the smile you gave to others, dedicated to him. And so his answers to you became less and less cold and he had become less good at hiding his sweet eyes from you.

And even though every cell of his body was asking otherwise, to not feel another broken heart, Calum had decided to kiss you in the backstage of the iHeartRadio 2018, while you were wearing his leather jacket and moving his hair from the front of his eyes.

And the rest is history.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

And like when Emily Bronte said ‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same’, as in the case of your love, there isn't much to do. You cannot go against fate if two hearts are meant to spend the rest of eternity together.

There are no arguments, reasons or strong enough excuses to separate those who are connected by much more than just love. And that’s what makes you this close, that in the darkness of the world, in the hell of fear and anger, that strong feeling resists, and fighting together is always better than doing it alone.

It’s a strong love, ready to defeat everything that tries to divide it, ready to sacrifice the absolute good of one, in order to spend the rest of life in misery together.

Like the rebellious angels, who preferred an earthly love to the eternal glory of God, so you are bound to laugh and cry together, and there is nothing that can make you happier than that.

Calum turns you around one last time, whispering a compliment in your ear and making your laughter echo across the room. The sun has now set and the stars are taking its place, the lights that descend from the ceiling look like little fairies that got lost admiring your love and the room has taken the shape of a magical forest.

Your friends are at the door of the entrance, with eyes full of love they look at the two of you laughing together and their hearts melt to see you so in love and they can’t help but imagine themselves in your place, in a few weeks, ready to dance and share the same love that you and Calum are sharing.

Breaking the peace of that dream, with pride and a grin on his face, is Michael, clapping and laughing at the way your boyfriend is completely in love with you but also feeling happy to see him so positively changed. He takes a few steps toward you and you don't need to hear him speak to imagine the comments he's thinking, making you and Calum shake your heads smiling.

“Just so you know, I expect to see you dance like that at our wedding too.” Your best friend's sweet voice says as she points at you by moving her finger between you and your boyfriend.

You run toward Crystal, her pink hair is tied up in a low ponytail, with a few tufts running down her face. Her smile is big on her face, lighting up her joyful expression. You have a billion questions to ask her, most of them are about the choices they made for the final decorations and your heart is so full at thinking about your best friends getting married.

You’re too caught up in your happiness to notice Calum, just a dozen steps behind you, smiling to his bandmate while whispering: “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well, you know what to do.” Michael responds by nodding with his head and looking proudly at his best friend.

“Will you help me organize the proposal?”

--

[nincompoopydoo]

Could I request a oneshot with Remus Lupin with the promt "kiss me so i can feel alive again". Also congratulations on 1000 followers 🎉✨💕

ALIVE AND TRUE

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x reader WORD COUNT: 2k (whoops) SUMMARY: Having found a lost friend, living in the countryside of Yorkshire, feelings of once hidden affection start to bloom in the need to be alive and good things to be real. A/N: Thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry for taking so long! This is one of my favorites because it’s so soft and romantic and I adore this request. Please tell me what you think of it xo. WARNINGS: Angst. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

It’s the house you see from trudging down the walkway that forces you to double take your previous steps. Silent and empty, it seems to twist into the forest from afar. Bent trees adorn the lane with overgrown greenery at its feet and ancient brick walls that run along with it. The fields in Yorkshire are vast and immaculate but right now, you are alone and suddenly the far stretch of land doesn’t seem to have the shine of the countryside. Your eyes shift to the house that sits behind a rusted gate, joints barely holding together from the years of rotting and exposure to the heat and rain. It’s barely a house but more of a cottage. No, it’s not even a cottage. Semi-derelict and tumbledown, it looks more like the ruins of what used to be a home.

You look down to the note in your hand, parchment torn at the edges with the cursive words of your handwriting that make up an address and coordinates. Visually, there’s no indication of where exactly you are but according to the coordinates, you are precisely where you need to be. For the past three years, your investigation into finding your friend has proven to be impossible and almost met with the acceptance that you will never see him again. Yet, after an anonymous tip had been owled to your doorstep, indicating the suspicions of the presence of a werewolf somewhere in Yorkshire as overheard by the locals of a nearby town, gave you a tinge of hope to reconnect with someone you lost.

The sight bears a high chance that he may be hiding here, unfortunately. It makes it hard to believe that someone you saw had so much life in him, is living in this condition.

Anxiety starts to creep onto you as you push the worn-down gate. It creaks with the rustling of the wind, a sign of an imminent storm. The sun doesn’t shine anymore, clouds of grey congregate in the skies above in the chorus of rainfall. You don’t do too well with apparition, thankfully having only lost half of your hair during the war. Hence, if the anonymous tip turns out to be a fake, you would have to make your way out of the countryside in the rain or even worse, take the Knight Bus.

You hate the Knight Bus.

Attempting to conjure up whatever courage you have left, you steadily make your way into the compound, plodding through the overgrown grass. As you grow closer, the cottage looks even worse than it was from afar, climbing plants of dull green embellish the walls of the ruins.

Then, in your periphery, you catch a glimpse of violet—Bluebells. The same flowers that used to grow on the forest floor of the forbidden forest. You remember him telling you about how he had seen a white bluebell, rare to its nature.

Warmth fills your chest, you know he is here.

The door is wooden, climbing plants seem to have made their way to it, branching around its handle.

You knock once. No answer.

You knock twice. There’s footsteps, they’re heavy.

With the swing of the door, you are met with none other than Remus Lupin. He looks older, dark circles below his eyes that have lost their intensity of blue, hair unkempt and shabby, and a beard, tracing along his jawline. He has his wand directed to you in defense. Probably because no one ever visits.

The smile on your face is impossible to suppress. It's bright at the recognition of the familiarity of his face. “Remus,” you breathe, eyes crinkling and gleaming with the bliss from the effort and worth of your investigation to find this very man, who stands just a couple of inches away from you. You swallow, not wanting to blink away the possibility that this may all be a dream. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He says your name through a whisper like it’s the answer to the millions of prayers recited and uttered from his lips as he drifts off to slumber under the moonshine, beaming through the shattered glass of the windows by his bedside. He dreams of you, often in times when his body is too weak to endure the aftermath of a full moon.

Yet, you're here and very real.

Then, he watches your grin falter and how your eyes move around the curves of his face. The deep cuts are there and visible. Although magic heals, time and energy play a crucial factor in healing wounds. In an instant, his apprehension creeps in, and suddenly, he feels small. The memories of you are forever intertwined with the rest of his friends, memories too painful to endure.

Your hand reaches out for his face but he staggers back in his step.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He doesn’t mean it. Remus really wants you here. To feel your warmth, your touch, the smell of your hair and to hold you but he sees the way you bring your arm down to your side, shoulders slump in near defeat. In reality, you would never let him go that easily.

“Don’t say that, Remus.”

The crinkle of your eyes is gone, now sharp with the frustration of his tendency of locking himself away from the world out of paranoia. It’s been a minute since you’ve seen his face after three long years and he’s already trying to chase you away.

Typical Remus.

An odd sense of nausea takes over him, knees buckling as his surroundings begin to spin like he is on a sailing boat at sea. His body is frail and with a blow, he will fall. His eyes are trained on you as he feels his feet give way and his body drifting towards the ground. Just then, he feels your touch, arms around him like an embrace. You’re holding him in his weakened stance, stabilizing his balance by moving his arm to hang around your shoulder. He immediately shifts his weight on you, uttering a soft apology.

“You don’t have to apologize for something you can't control.” Your voice is soothing, speaking so close to his ear. Your tone is laced with knowing and care. You both know those words have been articulated from your very lips many times before. And your hands are gentle upon the curve of his waist, against the rough material of a dress shirt but your grasp is strong—the true touch of a healer’s hands, precise and careful. Remus always knew you would turn to become a highly-skilled healer.

With every cautious step, the creaks of the parquet flooring are loud and lasting. It’s as if the house itself cries for its condition, like a child with a wound to their knee after taking a nasty fall. The wailing wind outside doesn’t help with the fact that everything seems to be falling apart.

You guide him to the armchair by the fireplace, pressing him by the shoulders to sit. He plops onto the chair with a heavy sigh and feels a sense of regret sinking in his chest at the sight of the visible scowl of your lips and the turn of your brows.

Your open palm finds his cheek. He hears the drag of your deep exhale. You don’t say anything, only to pull out your wand from your back pocket. Yet, Remus is quick to grab your hand, halting you in your movement. Your frown a little deeper, sharp eyes finding him.

“Just let me heal you. It’s the least I can do.”

It’s a promise, a vow, uttered from your very lips filled with dignity and hope. So, he lets you, just to feel you close to him.

—

The rain is yet to arrive. Thunder booming through rolling clouds above and still not a single drop of rain but there’s a peak of sunlight between the cracks of the storm. Maybe, it’s because you’re here and sunshine always seems to trail your steps, no matter where they lead.

Now, Remus is seated on the toilet seat facing you, who has settled for a shaky stool to perch on as your gentle hands hold the edge of his jaw while the other grips onto a straight razor, gazing along the cheek. He cannot take his eyes off the crease between your brows and the way your eyes slowly shift along with the moving blade.

Magic is meant for convenience in small but necessary tasks like these yet you insisted on doing it in the traditional muggle way—using your fingers. Your hands work wonders, beautifully moving as a paraclete. You hold him like you’re maintaining his strength, to keep from fracturing into pieces. You look at him like he’s your masterpiece, carving every curve and bend of his skin and structure.

You lift the blade away from his face, dabbing it onto a rag cloth hung by the sink. Remus finally finds the time to speak. “You don’t have to do this.” You simply laugh and it comes out like a puff of air. Your eyes are still trained on cleaning off the razor. “Of course, I don’t. But, I also don’t want you competing with Dumbledore’s beard.”

Remus laughs, truly laughs. It’s loud and echoes within the walls of the tiny toilet. “I could never beat him.” You’re laughing too, grin wide as ever. Then, after a beat of silence, your grin suppresses into a small smile, lips pressed together as you place the razor aside. You’re clearly in deep thought.

“Come away with me.”

Remus blinks. “What?”

You turned to him, eyes glinting with expectancy. “Stay with me. I live a few blocks from St Mungos...and you get to see me at work.” You watch how his mouth is now agape, half of his chin still in shaving cream.

“And I’m sure you look magnificent in green but you know I can’t—”

“You can, Remus. You can come here a week before the full moon and then come back to my place. I’ll help you heal, a lot faster and you know that’s true. Maybe, I could get hold of aconite for Wolfsbane at the hospital— ”

You hadn’t realized your rambling until Remus began to shake you by the shoulders, calling out your name with an odd sense of serenity and hint of urgency for you to stop. So, your words immediately halt with a turn of your head to meet his gaze. Your expression is soft. His hand drifts to yours, holding it in his. “You know I can’t because if they find out you are living with someone with lycanthropy, you will lose your job and I don’t want you to lose it for my sake,” he squeezes your hand with assurance. “But, thank you. Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

The candle flickers from behind you, sitting idly on the ceramic shelf above the sink. No sunlight beaming through the room and only the hues of flame, beginning to shrink with the melting of its wax. Your hair presents an illusion of golden threads against the candlelight, face as warm as your hand on his as you shift your fingers to the back of his palm. Gradually, you sigh whilst raising his palm to you and press your lips to the arch of his hand. It’s quick but affectionate.

Your stare is strong and his heart stutters for the millionth time since your arrival.

Remus is drawn to you and the thought of how your lips should be on his. He drifts closer, eyes roaming your face, feeling your breath against his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” your question is soft, a whisper, only for his ears. A secret so sacred that you’re afraid nature would hear the words of your confession that was solely reserved for your mind and the man you are confessing to. He nods, it’s slight but it’s true, feeling like this is all a dream. He doesn’t want you to dream anymore. For you are here, hand tangled in his, thinking about his lips on yours.

Then, he whispers as the candle flickers once more. “Kiss me so I can feel alive again.”

So, you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, your hand still in his.