#I wonder who else had a ribbon on her blouse close to the neck...

[jyushimatsu-falls-in-love]

It’s almost 6AM and I haven’t slept yet but I just had a thought re: Jyushi flinging Eitaro and his girlfriend into the sun at the end of the skit

So, Eitaro was able to make friends by using the gags and antics that Matser Jyushi taught him - and that means, he used those same gags and antics to win the heart of the little girl who’s now his girlfriend.

What if Jyushi didn’t fling Eitaro into the sun just because he got a girlfriend

Because remember, Jyushi used his gags and antics to win the heart of a girl before too

But instead of getting a girlfriend, she just got away

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Hello Sorrow [Chapter Five] Tomorrow Never Knows [Karl Heisenberg]

Tag List: @unlikelyllamanerd​, @courtenbae​

Irina came to on the floor, stirring plumes of dust every time she took a heavy breath. Where was she? The factory, she was sure. But where? The room she woke up in was dim; the only source of light coming from the bay shop panel above her.

Why wasn't she dead? Heisenberg spared her for some unknown reason; Irina wasn't sure she wanted to know. Her hopes of surviving this nightmare had been taken away from her; he made sure of this.

So why? He promised to kill her. Could he not strike her down while she lay unconscious? At least then she'd never wake up, having to look that bastard in the eye again.

Irina blinked away tears. She never had any chance of escaping. There was no cheese at the end of this winding metal labyrinth.

Easing into a sitting position, she moaned in pain. Her side and arms burned immensely. A warm tightening feeling washed over her and for a moment, Irina feared that she may pass out again.

The silver lining was that the shackles had been cut at the chain; the cuff remained on her wrists, but at least her hands were free.

Irina eased out of her torn coat, groaning as metal slivers in her hands brushed against the fabric. Beneath her coat, she wore a white blouse with short sleeves; a rust-colored stain bloomed across one side, torn to ribbons where the auger made contact.

Peeling strips of cloth from her skin where the blood had dried, she examined the wound in disgust. It looked as though she had gone through a meat grinder; chunks of bloody flesh hung from her side.

She nervously laughed, despite wanting to cry. At least the green herb she picked up would not go to waste.

But where was her bag? Heisenberg must have taken it.

Irina searched for it, but she couldn't see well enough to locate it. Standing on her feet, she became unsteady. Her brain sloshed inside her head like a bowl of soup. She leaned against a table to steady herself.

This room he put her in was small; a fraction larger than a living room. A pair of spring frames sat against the far wall, but the mattresses were gone. There were some tables and shelves placed around the open space, but nothing of importance. The only thing that caught her eye was a barred window – she doubted that the door would open for her.

Irina sighed. She eased towards the window and peered out; she was in the heart of the factory. How unfortunate. At this point, she hoped for nothing.

Backing away, she sat down on the floor and waited. Her mind was too tired to think.

For what seemed like hours she sat there, listening to the low roar of the machines. She considered resting, but before she closed her eyes, the lock on the door clicked; the gears rotated against the other until the door came open.

Heisenberg sauntered in.

His eyes wandered over to Irina, taking in her heated expression and unkempt appearance. Grinning, he ignored her and grabbed a grease rag from one of the tables, cleaning his hands with it.

Once he was done, he tossed the rag onto the floor and drug over a chair, sitting on it in front of her.

“Let's have a heart-to-heart talk,” he ordered.

Irina curled up her nose but agreed with a nod. There were some questions of her own she wanted to ask.

“Why are you here? You must have known how dangerous it was coming here.”

Duke warned her, but she didn't expect there to be monsters in the factory. She also never expected Heisenberg to attempt to murder her.

“I already told you,” Irina declared. “I came for the treasure.”

Heisenberg snorted. “The only thing worth anything here is in an ossuary on floor 4.”

“I saw, but there was a piece missing; a ball or round object to navigate the labyrinth.”

He hummed. “That sounds about right. I suppose there's a mold down there somewhere to make it.”

“You don't know?”

Irina thought he was the one who crafted the labyrinth.

“I have no damn clue,” he explained. “That fucking thing has been here since way before I inherited the factory and surrounding land.”

He witnessed her scowl and shake her head as if she were having an internal battle in her thoughts.

“I don't know how you found out about it, but I assume you planned to sell it. Say you did. What did you plan to do with the money?”

Irina narrowed her eyes. It mattered not – he was going to kill her – but she reckoned it wouldn't hurt to tell him.

“Leave this place... I planned to start a new life.”

Heisenberg laughed. “That bitch Miranda would never let you leave this place. But hey, I get it. You want to be free.”

“I do,” she agreed.

She wondered why he addressed Mother Miranda in such a manner; as though he loathed her. Weren't the lords supposed to be loyal to her? She was the divinity of the village and the surrounding territories. No one ever spoke ill of her.

And what did he mean by Mother Miranda would never let her leave? Residents up and moved from the village all the time. Perhaps Irina just misinterpreted him.

“Then you understand why I came here,” she mentioned with confidence. “I want more; much more than this prison can give me.”

Heisenberg scowled. “And you know about prisons? Don't fucking insult me.”

She didn't understand what he was indicating. Maybe she wasn't chained to this place, but since her brother died, leaving her alone, it sure felt as if she was.

“And you thought by stealing from me, you'd be free?”

He raised his arm and the air thinned as a screwdriver flew across the room and into his hand. Grabbing Irina by the head, Heisenberg pressed the flathead against her neck; she cried out in fear and pain.

“Open your damn eyes. No one can be free from this fucking place; not me and sure as hell not you.”

Irina dug her nails into his arm. “Let me go. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

He released her, humming. The flathead shot from his hand and hit the wall somewhere in the room. “My apologies, darling. Thinking about her and this place boils my fucking blood. You’d do well not to get on my bad side.”

Noted, she thought bitterly, rubbing her neck.

Irina scooted away from him.

Heisenberg laughed. “Where were we? – he paused to snap his fingers – oh yes. I meant to ask, but just how in the hell did you get into my territory? That gate you passed through has a special lock on it.”

“I used a lock pick to open the lock – though it wasn’t easy,” she explained.

He whistled in awe. “Now that’s some skill you have there. Shame you’re wasting it.”

“Wasting it? How else would I use it? I hate that I chose to come here, not knowing that I’d be killed before putting it to use, but I know of no other way to use it.”

Heisenberg hummed. “I knew there was something about you that I liked. That mouth can only get you so far.”

Her face heated up.

“Run some errands for me,” he suggested.

What?

Irina puckered a brow. “Errands?”

“I have projects to finish and limited resources,” he explained. “You can sneak into anywhere and get them for me.”

She was no pack mule.

“And if I say go fuck yourself?”

Heisenberg stared at her a minute, yellow eyes gleaming, then stood up, knocking the chair onto the floor with a loud bang.

“Then I will smash your fucking head in and toss your worthless ass into the river. There is no other option, darling. It’s do and live or don’t and die.”

Irina shivered in fear. She had no choice. Perhaps if she said no, then her death would be instant, however she did not want to die.

Bobbing her head, she held back tears.

“Whatever you need,” she made clear.

He grinned, taking a deep and uneasy breath. “That’s the answer I wanted to hear – I’ll have to make a list.”

But not the answer she felt was best. Not that she could do anything about it at this point. Her only option was to do as he ordered and if she played her cards right, maybe she could find a way to escape him.

But first.

“I got hurt down there,” Irina mentioned weakly. She eased up her shirt and showed him the nasty gash on her side. “I need medical aide – and perhaps some rest – if you want me to do my best There’s an herb in my bag … please, I need it.”

Heisenberg sauntered over to a cabinet across from her and took out her bag, retrieving the herb from it before tossing the bag into the cabinet again. He broke the stem into pieces and urged her to open her mouth, shoving them inside once she did so.

“Eat up,” he said with a grin.

Irina choked. His fingers tasted horrible. Why did he not just give her the herb? She could have done this by herself.

Her face heated up.

“Get some rest. You start as soon as you heal,” he ordered, looming over her.

Taking out a key, Irina recognized it as the one Heisenberg tried to offer her earlier. Was this the room it went to? She swallowed the last of the herb.

“If I had taken that ––

“I would have cornered you in here and killed you,” he answered easily.

She scowled at him. Leaving her alone and locking the door behind him, Irina contemplated using her lock pick on the door. She’d do best not to piss him off though. No telling how far she’d get.

Using her torn coat, Irina rested on the icy floor and shut her eyes. She doubted that she’d be able to fall asleep, not with the roar of the machines in her ears, but she was determined to try.

She may not ever get the chance again. Tomorrow never knows.

[kayr0ss]

The Girl from Ipanema

[Diakko, Fluff, Cafe One-Shot, Cute Stuff, older!LWA, Supportive Bartender, inspired by the song of the same title]

Summary: The barista, who was something of a hopeless romantic, couldn't help but notice the way Akko was staring at the mysterious blonde in the corner of the coffee shop. So of course he tells her to, "go get her a coffee!"

--

here is the song

-

“An iced Americano for me, thank you.”

Akko smiled warmly at the barista, fishing for change in her pockets while Gerry (or so his name tag said) nodded to confirm her order. “With white mocha. And two pumps of breve. And light water.”

He looked at her from behind the screen of the register, patiently waiting for more.

“That’s all!” She said with a merry grin.

He popped her order into the system in a flurry of taps and beeping, and in a bid for casual conversation, had remarked: “Strong. Sweet. And creamy—the whole package.”

“I’d like to think of my coffee as a reflection of myself.” She replied in jest.

He laughed lightly, nodding while he took her payment. The order was punched in, followed by the high-pitched noise of a receipt being printed out; the sound of it mixed in with a song she remembered from her childhood that she’d often hear in cafes similar to this one.

The melody fit in with the establishment’s ambience. In the next moment, her change was returned and she walked over the end of the bar where she could wait to pick up her drink. She looked around some more—the interior was both rustic and stylishly modern. The bar was backed up by a classic brick wall, unpainted with the dark grey mortar jutting out tastefully. It contrasted nicely with the windows on the opposite side that ran from the ceiling down to the floor—the sunlight was kept at bay by venetian blinds in plain light brown. Everything else was wooden and lacquered—from the tables, to the chairs, and even the counter that sat atop unfinished concrete. There were greens as well, potted and genuinely alive in the corners. The smell of coffee wafted across the space, wrapping the experience together like the perfect ribbon on a gift.

But for Akko, the appeal of well-done interior decoration paled in comparison to the quiet blonde woman sitting in a corner table. Her spot was nearly hidden behind a half-wall divider and some plants. The brunette craned her neck, biting her lip in the process while she tried to get a better look at—

“I hope you aren’t trying to be discreet.” Gerry was back with her drink and a smug grin. “Because if you were, it isn’t working.”

Akko playfully narrowed her eyes. “I thought this kind of advice was bartender territory.”

“Baristas are close enough,” he said in a chipper voice, wrapping a napkin around her cup to keep the condensation at a minimum.

“Well,” she started deliberately, leaning her elbow onto the counter. “You really can’t blame me for staring.”

“I’d agree with that.” He nodded.

At the same time, they both turned towards the blonde—she was around seven meters away, but if the look on her face was any suggestion, she was anything but near. She was utterly engrossed; far, far away into the worn-out paperback book she so tenderly held and read through. In the next moment, she turned a page. A little bit after that, she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Her expression was even—and practically unreadable.

Except for her eyes.

Seven meters was probably too far away to notice, but they were blue—so delightfully blue—and the pace by which they moved from left to right (her head would move along with them in the cutest way) revealed that she might be more enraptured than her expression allowed to show.

It was—if Akko were to be honest—just a little bit breathtaking.

“Buy her a coffee.” Gerry said with an oddly resolute voice for someone Akko had just met. “You don’t look at a woman the way you are right now and pass up on the chance to buy her a coffee.”

Akko blinked, turning back towards him with an expression of surprise yet amusement. “I don’t think she wants one—”

“It’s on me.” Gerry held up his hand, insisting that she stop talking. “What would you think her type is?”

“There’s really no need to—”

“No buts!” He insisted, and the intensity of it made Akko back down a little.

“Alright, alright.” she conceded, sheepishly scratching at the back of her head.

“Once again—what do you think she likes?”

“Iced americano—with white mocha, breve, and a bit of water?” Akko grinned.

“Okay.” He laughed again. “That was pretty smart. But I doubt she’s into caffeine strong and sweet enough to induce a heart-attack.”

“You may never know!” Akko crossed her arms, noting at the back of her mind that the ice of her drink would be melting anytime soon. “I feel like she’s into more adventurous things than—”

“Be cool.” He suddenly snapped to get her attention. “She’s looking at you. She tilted her head. Is that interest? Or is she checking you out?”

Akko giggled, “probably just wondering why we’re being so loud!”

“I swear on my honor as a barista that I never speak louder than my customer needs.” He said with an indignant quirk of his eyebrow. “In any case—how about a flat white?”

Akko hummed to herself. “That works. What if you take half off the sweetener?”

“Good observation.” Gerry nodded, sparing the blonde another quick glance. “The cold air of mystery leads one to believe she doesn’t like sweets.”

“She looks wonderful, doesn’t she?” Akko blurted out, looking towards the blonde over her shoulder while Gerry left for the espresso machine and got to work. She’d leave him a hefty tip and would make it a point to come here more often. Gerry was great—and from the first sip of her Americano, his coffee game was just as awesome.

Akko watched from afar as the blonde settled her chin onto the back of her free hand, laying the book flat onto the table while she flipped to yet another page. She licked her lips.

Akko died a little.

“Honestly,” Gerry was back. “You should see the look on your face right now. If I weren’t a hopeless romantic I’d say it’s pathetic.”

“Excuse you!” Akko laughed. “I’m a customer!”

“And I’m just stating facts.” He held up his palms in self-defense.

“I’m not going to fight you on that one.”

He smiled at her again, pushing the white cup of hot coffee near her from the across the bar in an exaggerated motion of presentation. “Here—an unsweetened flat white on the house, in the name of love.”

Akko gracefully took both drinks (hers was already getting watery), and beamed at the barista who she was pretty sure was now a new friend. “Thank you, Gerry. I’ll make sure to do good by your service.”

He winked, and soon after she was walking towards the small corner table partially hidden by the leaves of some weird indoor plant and oh—up close one could see how well her simple white blouse framed her neck and collar bones—and she—

She was actually nervous? It almost made her laugh—it was unlike her to be nervous of anything. Much less… this.

Akko stopped right when she was hovering near her, and on cue, the blonde looked up, visibly confused at the two drinks in her hands. Akko’s eyes landed on something golden glistening on the other woman’s person.

Oh.

“The barista insisted I buy the beautiful blonde I was staring at a coffee.” Akko started with a small smile.

It made the blonde laugh—the action of which was only just a small huff through the nose, along with the upturn of the corner of her lips. But her eyes looked delighted (and still so very blue) and Akko did her best not to blurt out a pick-up line.

“Did he?”

“He did,” the brunette nodded, placing the drinks onto the table but not daring to seat herself down just yet. “But by the ring on you finger, I’m guessing you’re spoken for?”

She was smiling now. The sight of it… did things to Akko’s stomach.

“I’m spoken for,” Diana smiled, gracefully accepting the coffee. “By a wonderful woman who likes her coffee much too sweet.”

Akko grinned, leaning down when she felt the blonde tug at her arm. Diana seemed utterly charmed by her entrance. She’d pat herself on the back for that. “She’s a hell of a lucky woman.”

“I reckon I am, just as much.” Diana leaned up, smiling while she met Akko half-way for a kiss. It was sweet.

And tasted like coffee.

Akko leaned in for a little more, giggling, toying at the golden ring on her own left hand and feeling a deep-seated joy at knowing the lovely girl in the corner of the café wore an exact copy.

When they finally parted—but only for a few inches—Diana gave her a pointed look. “Did you really trick the poor barista into helping you hit on your wife, my love?”

Akko laughed. “He insisted!”

Diana laughed fully this time, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in mirth while Akko just stood there, grinning stupidly, much like a lovesick puppy.

They were too engrossed with each other to notice that Gerry had nearly fainted.

-

fin

-

A/N: Yes LMAO it's another one-shot *cries* but this was a very cute idea I've been dying to write for weeks, and finally sat my ass down for an hour and got it done. I honestly love the song  although admittedly the lyrics don't fit so well coz it a bit sad, but doesn't the tune just relax you so much?

Gerry is..... named after my favorite restaurant........... Gerry's Grill lmao

[ghosstkid]

lonely is my hoping, empty is my sweet thing

title from the song ‘daybed’ by FKA Twigs 

this short is a part of this series <3 

Wet, slushy snow gathers on the stones in the courtyard. The rose bushes are skeletons, all thorns and ice. A grey sky hangs over the quiet house. There is no moon, no stars, only thick grey clouds and cold, wet snow.

The lady of the house watches the large, wet snowflakes land on the stones. She sits at her little writing desk by the window, her quill in hand but no words come.

The clock on the mantle ticks, idly counting down the seconds. To what exactly, she is not sure yet.

As much as she longs for a letter, she dreads what it might say.

She wants to hope for the best, that soon her home will be full of laughter, love and warm dinners once more. She wants to hope that the clouds will part and the warm sunlight will bring her lovely garden back to life. She wants to hope that a warm spring day is coming, and on that day, she will admire the roses, arm in arm with her two captains.

“How beautiful they are this year,” she imagines James saying. Francis will agree in his quiet way and she will smile, full of pride for her roses. She imagines them wandering through the gardens together to a blanket under the shade she had prepared for them, complete with a simple lunch and sweet treats.

“Yes,” Ann whispers to herself. “When they return, we shall have lunch outside every warm day.” She pushes aside the blank letter page in front of her and makes a note to remind the maid. That was what they wanted when they returned from Antarctica, she remembers. They had spent many afternoons in the shade, eating fresh fruits and drinking in the warm summer sun.

“Why would we ever go to such a hellish place when heaven is right here?” James had asked from where he lay with his head resting on Ann’s lap, pillowed by snow-white lace and ruffles. Francis merely smiled, lifting his wine glass to his lips. He sat beside Ann on the blanket, watching the birds in the trees around them.

Yes, Ann thinks now, wet snow falling on the dead grass outside. They would sit out there again, drink wine and make promises to one another that they would never leave.

Once they returned she would never let either of them go again. She felt like a girl again, hoarding her precious dolls so no one else could have them. She would lock them away in her dollhouse; only she would brush their hair and sew their buttons back on when they fell off.

The cold wind rattles against the window, startling her. The clock ticks. She dares to glance at it, sighing at the late hour. She slowly turns her gaze back to the blank page before her.

She does not know what to say. She knows her words will be read by the Admiralty before the letter is passed on to James, wherever he may be. The thought of someone other than James reading her letter sends a rush of anger through her.

“They do not care,” James had spat as he stormed into the room where she sits now, his anger unsettling her.

“W-Who does not care?” Ann had managed to say. James’s hands were trembling. She listened as he struggled to explain what had been said to him, his brow creased with pain, his eyes wet and hopeless; they had hope for the passage, rescue was only second. Her eyes welled with tears as she watched him sink to the floor in front of her. With a heaving sob, he laid his head on her lap, clutching her skirts tightly. She ran her hand through his curls gently. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Go for Francis,” she managed to say. “Bring him home…”

She now grips her pen so tightly it might snap. She wipes her eyes. Maybe she should instead write to Francis, hope for his health and a swift return home. Or maybe she should write to both of them.

Or maybe…

She throws down the pen. Ink splatters onto the desk and the white, blank page. Feeling the pinprick of tears in her eyes, she pushes herself away from the desk and stands, wiping her hands on her navy blue skirt. Her hair escapes its bun, strands falling down the nape of her neck and brushing against the lace of her white blouse.

She stops in front of the window, staring out into the darkness. In the distance, she can see their pond and in the middle of it, two little islands. James had named them. Erebus and Terror, always side by side.

Like lovers.

She turns away from the window. She glances around her quiet sitting room. The candle burning on her desk flickers, illuminating the soft lounge chairs and the bookshelf. A vase on the side table is bursting with roses.

“I think I would read more memoirs if they were half as dramatic as this,” James had laughed from where he lounged on the brocade chair, the tails of his coat spilling out from under him. In his hands was a new book, its green cover glinting in his gentle hands. Francis leaned over the back of the chair, reading over his shoulder. He looked casual in his white shirt sleeves and red waistcoat.

“I think they are dramatic enough...” Francis muttered, earning a snort from James.

The rain suddenly patters on the window, making Ann jump.

She presses her hand over her chest as she turns away from the empty chair. She forces herself to take a deep breath.

The letter can wait a little longer, Ann thinks.

She reaches for the candle on her desk. Her step is quick as she flees from the room, finding herself in the long, dark hallway. Her glowing candle illuminates the large paintings on the walls. The darkness feels as though it might suffocate her, her candle doing its very best to fight it back.

She wishes for her captains.

She hurries for the stairs. She grips her skirts tightly in her free hand as she jumps up the stairs. Her candle flickers as she reaches the landing and the window there.

“How beautiful!” James had called up to her from the bottom of the stairs, his beautiful uniform dripping in gold. She had laughed as she spun around in her pink ball gown. The smell of roses was in the air.

“Yes, quite beautiful,” Francis had said as he descended the stairs to the landing, just as lovely as James in his uniform. He reached for her gloved hand.

Now, that hand clutches the candle shakily. Ann forces herself to keep climbing. Her slippers are silent on the steps. She reaches the top of the stairs. The hallway up here is just as dark. She almost runs towards their bedroom, her navy skirts swirling around her. She fumbles with the door handle, throwing open the door. She jumps when it hits the wall. She quickly shuts it behind her, leaning her head against the wood.

She never liked the dark.

She glances around the candlelit room. The ornate headboard looms over the bed. The small chandelier shimmers in the dancing candlelight. At the far end of the room, she can see herself in her vanity’s mirror, trembling and alone.

“It is always dark in the winter months,” Francis had said. Ann sat at her vanity, staring at him through the mirror with wide eyes as he gently braided her hair.

“That must be terrifying…” she whispered. Francis shook his head.

“We create our own light,” Francis said quietly. He secured the braid with a blue ribbon.

Ann slowly walks further into the dark, silent room. Rain and snow ooze down the windows. The clock on the mantle ticks. The fire in the small fireplace is dying. Her gaze drops to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Slowly, she sinks to the floor, setting the candle down beside her. She grips the lid and pushes it open.

The treasures inside are not the kind that one hears about in bedtime stories of pirates on the high seas but they are no less valuable to Ann whose greedy fingers clutch the heavy, navy blue fabric, the gold embroidery above the tails glinting in the candlelight. She pulls the uniform coat close, pressing her face into it. She can smell them; the salty ocean wind on a summer day.

“Ann… Why do you make that face?” James had said when he finally returned from the furthest south. She had run down the stairs to him, throwing her arms around him. He had picked her up, spinning her around with joy. When he set her down, her nose wrinkled.

“You stink,” Ann laughed. James frowned, looking down at himself. He ran his tired hands over his coat, an embarrassed blush rising on his whiskered cheeks.

“I, well… It has been… It is not easy to-”

“I will draw you a bath. It’s no matter,” Ann insisted and to reassure him more, she pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek.

Yes, she thinks now. A bath. For both of them. They will have a warm bath waiting for them when they return home.

She sets the beautiful coat aside, careful not to wrinkle it and reaches into the trunk. This coat is heavier, worn and dirty in some spots. She runs her fingers over the loose, golden buttons and wonders if she should sew them on more tightly. She wraps the heavy greatcoat around herself, the large fur collar brushing against her cheeks.

How warm it is.

How delightfully heavy it is, as if being embraced by a lover.

Her fingers clutch the greatcoat tightly.

Slowly, she stands. The greatcoat is heavy on her shoulders as she bends to pick up the candle. She places it on the bedside table, beside a vase filled with pink roses. She falls onto the bed, pulling the coat around herself. The bed is too big for just her; too empty, too cold.

“Your feet are cold, my love.”

“Are they?”

“Yes, James.”

“How cold?”

“Stop it!”

There had been a flurry of pillows and quilts before they finally settled once more. Ann had giggled, hiding her face in the soft pillow.

“They are not that cold,” Ann laughed.

“Frank is just a dramatic old man,” James said as he curled his arm around her, narrowing his eyes at Francis over her shoulder.

“Ann how can you sleep with such a rude man in your bed?”

“How can I sleep with two of them?” They had been taken aback. She giggled again. “I sleep quite well.” The bed was warm, their arms gentle and heavy around her. “Quite well…” she repeated with a content yawn. James’s arm tightened around her. Francis pressed a kiss to her curls.

Yes, she thinks now, pulling the heavy greatcoat closer around herself. There will be a warm bed when they return home.

[tunnelscreamer]

#19 Excuse for Tavra and Onica!! (of course)

Thanks for the prompt! Excuse can be a noun or a verb so I tried to sneak both in, I hope you like it!

The Love Charm

“I’ve heard you can help me,” said the visitor, as she followed Elder Cadia into the tent.

It was springtime and the Elder’s ship was moored by the cliffs of Ha’rar. His tent sat in their shadow, nestled along the coast. He walked ahead and peered through a beaded curtain into the parlor at Onica. He gave her a look that said it was time to get to work, then he returned to his guest.

She listened to them talk on the other side of the curtain as she prepared the room. She set a bundle of herbs on a shelf and lit them, filling the little space with fragrant smoke. The lanterns were all lit, the table was cleared, and the charms and potions sat ready in a rack above the burning herbs.

“This is a matter of the heart,” the guest continued, “I am highly eligible, and have my eye set on a match. I need to be seen as approachable, but also unattainable. Flirtatious and aloof, vulnerable but in a confident way, do you understand?”

“Say no more, I am an expert in such things,” Cadia said, parting the curtain and entering the room. He seemed more cheerful than usual, Onica thought, as she took her place standing by his chair.

He led a well-dressed Vapran maiden to a seat at the table. She looked like a cloud, her sleeves puffed out extravagantly. They were billowy and delicate, lace bouncing with each step. A little round hat sat in her hair, brushing the ceiling with its long airy feathers. A satiny blouse, trimmed in gold, spilled out of an iridescent bodice that at times looked sky blue and blush pink. Onica saw now why Cadia was happy. He did not see pretty clothes but wealth.

The guest’s hair fell in ringlets, framing her face in pale gold with hints of pink. Onica was surprised to see that curls were in style in Ha’rar. She would have to ask Tavra about it. They were a short walk from the village, but she rarely went there. They preferred to spend time together away from the Vapran capitol.  

The maiden settled into her seat. She looked so out of place in the rustic tent. Its weathered walls were crusted with half dried salt water. The lashed bone supports were yellowed by age and smoke. The fragrant herbs weren’t for ceremony so much as to cover the smell of the wet tent and the Elder. 

Onica smiled kindly at her. The maiden looked back briefly and decided to ignore the Sifan serving girl. She turned her attention to Elder Cadia.

“I want to be at my best, with shining hair like the moons glow and a voice like a song.”

“You are lucky, I have potions that will add music to your every word and a shimmer to your hair,” he said attentively.

“Yes, I want those,” she pulled out a pouch and opened it part way revealing the gems inside, “she doesn’t use them, does she?” the maiden asked looking at Onica, seeing her hair’s lack of shine. 

“Ha, no, Onica’s charm is all her own,” Cadia said with an eyebrow raised, teasingly.

“Good,” the Vapra replied through a giggle, “will this be enough?” she handed him the pouch.

Cadia nodded to his apprentice and Onica turned to get the potions. Her hands moving over the shelf crowded with bottles, clay jars, and pouches of powder. 

It was true, she didn’t use those potions. She knew they didn’t work, or they worked in unexpected ways. The hair potion certainly would make hair shine, but it also made both hair and skin slick as nebie butter. Returning, she placed two little bottles on the table.  

“Why stop there?” Cadia said, examining the gems.

“What more can you do?” the Vapra replied excitedly, “I want everything you’ve got, I need to be absolutely irresistible. My darling and I will be the talk of Ha’rar.”

“Well, there is more, but what I have is so powerful, the items are forbidden in decent society. You may drive your intended mad with desire,” he looked at the maiden as he held back a grin, “also they are quite costly.”

“The cost is nothing,” she said pulling loose a delicate silver cord around her neck. There were more gems beaded along the its length. Cadia sat back and sighed, as she handed them to him. 

“All right, but you must be very careful with what I’m about to give you,” he explained as Onica returned to the shelf. This time grabbing a love charm and a little vial of perfume. She placed them on the table.

“Put a drop of this on the nape of your neck, and your love will be drawn to you like the setting sun to the horizon,” he mused, looking at the bottle as if it were potent as poison. The perfume did have a sweet smell but it did not bring out love or lust in others, only occasional compliments. 

“And this is the most powerful of all,” the Elder picked up the charm, a simple pod root wrapped in blue ribbon.

“It’s so plain!” the maiden blurted out as she looked at it curiously.

“Looks can be deceiving, you say the name of your love three times then place it beneath your pillow and, by next full Pearl moon, their heart will be yours,” he handed it to her.

She took the charm, so excited to use it she could barely wait. With two hands she held it up to her chest and closed her pretty eyes. “Tavra, Tavra, Tavra” she said with desire, ready to begin its matchmaking magic. She could practically see them together, her hanging on the royal paladin’s arm. 

The sound of Tavra’s name hit Onica like a blow. There was a thud and a clatter. Knees suddenly buckling beneath her, Onica fell backwards catching herself on the shelf. The bottles rattled along with her nerves. A puff of smoke followed as the smoldering bundle of herbs fell to the ground. In a panic, she stomped it out in a cloud of soot and embers. She reached up to steady the shelf as her foot continued to strike the ground.

Cadia looked up with a scowl.

“What’s wrong with her?!” the Vapran maiden shouted in distress.  

“Oh! I just,” Onica gasped, “I, if you’d please, um, excuse me,” she went on, trying to stay calm.

The Elder shook his head and narrowed his eyes in a look of searing anger. He was red with rage, but he had to remain civil to finish his dealings.

“Go! You are excused for the night!” he barked, clutching tight the gems.  

Onica stumbled outside and took deep breath. Fresh sea air replaced the smell of smoke as the panic slowly passed. She wanted to go back, to tell that fancy Vapra she was wasting her time and gems. But she didn’t. It was a relief to know none of the Elder’s love charms worked.

Sometimes she forgot that Tavra was, in almost every one’s mind, unattached. Onica trusted her endlessly but it still hurt knowing that’s what they had was secret, and it might always be. It made her stomach turn.

Leaning against a rock, she tried to calm herself. She could hardly blame this pretty gelfling for trying to win Tavra over. This and other thoughts floated through her mind. 

While looking out to sea, she remembered something Cadia had said, long ago, in this same place. Being near Ha’rar made him pensive and one evening he remarked “when someone cares for you they will endure hardship and overlook your shortcomings. And when they don’t they will find any excuse to leave. It’s not something that can’t be controlled.”  He had looked into the distance, glossy eyed and thoughtful. At the time, it made her wonder who had left him. Perhaps he had tried a potion to keep them. 

Love was not a trick and not something to be won with fine clothes and charms. It came from somewhere else. It was comforting to know, that no amount of gems could buy it. It’s magic was mysterious, pulling her and Tavra together when everything else kept them apart. 

She looked beyond the sea to the evening sky. The stars were just beginning to shine, no longer concealed by the light of the suns. Other lights too became clearer, like the lanterns on the cliffside path that led to the village. The seafarer’s lantern shone in the evening twilight. Onica saw a shadow pass by it, then it passed again. Someone was up there. She rushed away knowing who it might be.

Each evening they would meet on the path by the glow of the lantern. Their nights were filled with long walks and stories, and quiet moments hidden away. Some nights they would fall asleep beneath the stars and wake up together with morning dew clinging to their clothes. 

Tavra was here early, waiting. Onica heard her before she saw her. She was singing quietly to pass the time.

“And her hair did shine like the moons own glow, her voice was a song she was singing to my soul…”

Onica followed the sound, hoping to surprise her, but Tavra turned quickly and caught her. Their eyes met and Tavra smiled. 

The gravel path crackled beneath Onica’s feet as she ran into her arms nearly knocking Tavra over. Onica kissed her like she was claiming a prize. Tavra liked the sudden rush of affection, it was sweet and unexpected. 

“I missed you,” she whispered, burying her face in Tavra’s neck. It had been less than a day since they were last together. A moment later their lips met again.  Then Onica leaned back to look into the Vapra’s green eyes. They shone in the low evening light.

“Do you sing that song when you’re in town, about the hair like the moon?” 

Onica asked the strangest questions sometimes, Tavra thought.

“I sing it when I’m thinking of you,” she smiled and kissed her again, “so I sing it everywhere.”

She ran her hand through the Sifa’s lovely hair. She tried to guess what Onica was thinking. She looked upset, though she tried to hide it.

“Would ... would we be the talk of Ha’rar, if we were,” Onica was hesitant to speak, “never mind.” 

“Where are these questions coming from?” Tavra was confused, but she tried to answer, “when we are bound, I’m sure we will be the talk of the Seven Clans,” she said thoughtfully with a slight smirk.

“When we are bound?” Onica asked putting special emphasis on the when, surprised that Tavra was so certain, surprised and happy.

“Yes when,” Tavra replied. This was serious talk and she wasn’t sure what Onica might think. But she meant it wholeheartedly and, if things were different, they would already be bound.

“That seems so impossible,” Onica said resting on her shoulder.

“No, this is impossible, that will be a breeze.”

 ~Notes~

The advice Cadia gives Onica was based on something a friend said to me after a breakup and it was the inspiration for the story. It’s simple but really hit at the time. 

And the Vapran maiden was a background character from AoR, I don’t think she has a name but she is very fancy and knows what she wants.

[verai-marcel]

Solicitations (Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+, Chapter 2 of 2)

Tags & Summary are in Chapter 1.

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

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

Chapter 2: Ending Up Better

The next night, Moore showed up and would not let you go, not even to serve the other customers.

“You can’t be serious about that... that hooligan!”

“Mr. Moore, please do not talk about my man that way.”

“He is not your man. He is, at most, a diversion. I am your future, sweetie pie.”

You wanted to retch.

“That is a sad future, if that were true,” Arthur said as he walked in and took a spot at the bar. Turning to Moore, he glared angrily. “I thought I told you to back off.”

Moore stood up, in an attempt to make himself bigger. “I will not. She deserves better.”

Arthur, who stayed sitting, just laughed. “And you think you’re better?”

“I am better!”

“She knows what’s best for her.” Arthur turned to you. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

You nodded.

“She doesn’t know-”

In a burst of cold, efficient violence, Arthur broke his beer bottle against the bar, grabbed the man by the throat, and bent him backwards over the bar, wielding the broken glass close to his face. 

“You listen, you piece of shit. My darlin’ is a much kinder, much smarter, much better human bein’ than you could ever aspire to be. It’s only by her mercy that I’m lettin’ you live.”

Moore, who looked like he had never been on the business end of any kind of weapon, was sweating profusely. 

Arthur leaned in, using his larger body to invade the man's personal space. His voice dropped low, nearly growling. “If I hear about you botherin’ her again, I’ll hunt you down. And I am very good at huntin’. Am I clear?”

“Yes, yes!”

"So. Are you gonna leave my lady alone, or are we gonna find out what happens if you don't?"

“I’ll leave her alone! You can have her, I don’t want her anymore!”

Arthur let him go, and he slid off the bar, scrambling on the floor as he scurried out the door, fleeing into the night.

Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. It was like watching a wolf take down an animal; you were scared, and yet you also wanted to get closer. 

Arthur turned to you, a wry grin on his face. "Looks like he won't be botherin' you for a while."

You smiled. "Guess not." Grabbing a broom from the kitchen, you started to sweep up the mess, when Arthur wrapped his hand around yours. 

"I'll sweep up, you clean the bar."

"Thank you."

Quietly the two of you cleaned up as the rest of the patrons, no longer having any in-house entertainment, went back to their conversations. 

When the two of you were done, you asked Arthur if he could wait until your work was over so you could pay him. He agreed, and sat at the bar, sipping whiskey while he waited. You couldn't help glancing at him while you worked, wondering how it would feel to have him do more than just kiss you on the cheek. 

"Your mind is wandering again," your boss said from beside you, surprising you as you shook your head from your reverie. You had probably been cleaning the same glass for a while. 

"H-how long have you been there?" 

"Long enough to know that you weren't paying attention to the woman in front of you."

You looked up to see Elizabeth smirking at you. 

"Oh my lord, I'm sorry, what can I get you?" 

***

The night wore on, and when it was finally over, it was just you and Arthur. He quietly followed you out as you locked up.

"Come with me, I'll pay you upstairs."

Once again, you questioned your wisdom when you led him around the corner of the building and up the backstairs to your small room above the saloon. You went inside, half expecting him to wait outside like a gentleman, half hoping he'd follow you inside. 

He followed you, shutting the door and leaning against it as he watched you cross your small room to the nightstand next to your bed. 

You reached into the drawer for the ten dollars you promised him. Slowly walking back to him and handing over the money, you held his hand for a second longer than was necessary. 

"Um, thank you so much," you mumbled. 

Arthur nodded. "Not a problem, miss." He considered you for a moment as he pocketed his money. "You look like you need somethin' else."

Your mouth opened and shut like a goldfish.

He stepped closer to you. He tipped your chin up, trapping you with his intense stare. "Tell me. What's yer pleasure?" he purred. 

"Y-you," you stammered, unable to form any kind of mental defense. 

He grinned before he leaned down and kissed you. 

"I-I can't afford more of your time," you said softly. 

Arthur chuckled before cupping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "This one's on me, sweetheart."

He kissed you again, slow at first, each kiss growing in passion and heat as he drank in your ardor like a fine whiskey, that burning feeling growing in your body as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close, walking you backwards until the back of your legs reached your bed. 

"You ever lay with a man before?" 

"A long time ago. I was young, he was young, we didn’t know what we were doing."

"Did he make you let go?"

"No…"

"Then he weren't no man."

You watched as Arthur stepped back and removed his gun belt and his hat, his vest and his suspenders. He slipped his neckerchief off and started to unbutton his shirt. 

"You just gonna watch, darlin'?" he teased as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscled chest. "Or did you want to participate?" 

You quickly moved to unbutton your blouse, but Arthur's hands on yours stopped you. 

"Allow me, sweetheart." He leaned in close, his breath mingling with yours as he undressed you, one button at a time. When the last button on your blouse was undone, he pushed it off your shoulders, his fingers skimming along your bare skin. 

"Like openin' a present," he murmured. First laying a kiss on your bare shoulder, he started a trail of kisses along your collarbone as he slid the chemise off your shoulders as well. As the fabric slipped off you, his lips followed as he nipped and kissed his way down your chest. He gently sucked on each of your nipples, giving them ample attention before kneeling down and nuzzling your belly. 

His hands rested on the buttons of your skirt for a moment. He looked up at you, an unspoken question on his face. 

You nodded. 

Arthur smiled as he began to undo your buttons, until your skirt was loose enough to slide from your hips. He kneeled down to help you remove your skirt from around your legs, and nuzzled your bare belly, his stubble tickling your skin. Biting on the ribbon that was holding up your lace drawers, he pulled back, loosening them and letting them fall to the ground. 

“Sit down, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and you quickly obeyed, sitting daintily on the edge of your bed. He grasped your knees and spread them, opening you up to his view. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs again, but he held you in place. Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he leaned forward and stroked you with his fingers. His other hand reached for your inner thigh, caressing you as he spread your wetness around your folds, pushing one finger inside of you.

Gasping and moaning, you were unable to break the hypnotic pull he had on you as he pumped his finger inside of you, stretching you until he could push a second finger in. You whimpered as he kissed you again, leaning over you, bringing you down to the bed.

His thumb brushed your core, and you writhed under him. Gently wrapping his hand around your neck, he held you down, not choking, simply keeping you in place as he pleasured you, stroking you until you broke apart under him, crying out his name.

“A-Arthur!”

He softly crooned your name in return as he watched you catch your breath and return to earth, your eyes glazed over, a smile on your face. 

"Feelin' good, darlin'?" 

You nodded. 

"You ready for me?" 

You bit your lip, unsure. 

Arthur smiled softly. "Don’tchu worry, I'll be gentle." He pulled away from you and undid his belt and the fly of his pants, letting then drop. His short drawers did nothing to hide his muscled thighs and his thick manhood. He untied the drawstring and his drawers fell too. 

You gaped. He was a statuesque, gorgeous specimen of a man. If you were honest with yourself, you would have paid another ten dollars for one night with him. The fact that he was with you for free made you feel grateful. 

But it also made you feel inadequate, insecure about your own looks. You crumpled in on yourself, feeling embarrassed. 

Arthur noticed immediately. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" 

"I… You… I'm not beautiful enough for you."

He covered you and wrapped his arms around you, comforting and warm. "You're more than beautiful enough, darlin'. You wouldn't've caught my eye otherwise."

Kissing your temple first, he started coaxing you into opening up again. Caressing your sensitive skin, he cuddled you close, murmuring praises into your ear. 

"That's it, that's my girl."

Soon you were moaning softly under him, and you felt his fingers gently pushing inside of you again. He slowly teased you until you were bucking your hips against his hand, urging him to go faster, deeper. He chuckled at your enthusiasm. Taking his fingers out, he positioned himself at your wet entrance, slowly pushing forward. You tensed, his girth putting pressure on your opening. 

"Relax darlin', let me in," he said softly into your ear, followed by tender kisses to your cheek and lips. "Give yerself to me."

You spread your legs wider and relaxed your body, letting him sink into you. He let out a rapturous moan when he felt his body come flush with yours. 

"You feel so damn good."

Then he began to move slowly, getting you used to the feeling of him taking you. When your breaths grew harsher and your legs wrapped around his hips, he held you tight and thrust faster as he lost himself to his desire. 

He moaned your name as he pounded into you with hard and rapid thrusts, burying his face into your neck and breathing hard. 

You cried out wordlessly, his passion overtaking you, drawing you into his lust and making you a wanton woman, craving ecstasy from his touch. You clawed at his back, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Biting him on his shoulder, you felt him shudder and moan. 

Then Arthur grunted and pulled out of you, taking your hand in his and guiding it to his cock. 

"Stroke me."

You wrapped your hand around his massive shaft and stroked up and down, watching him huff and close his eyes as his hips moved to the rhythm of your hand. In return, he reached down and touched your core, rubbing you in all the right ways. 

Staring into each other's eyes as the two of you brought each other to completion, the wave of pleasure took over both of you at once. Arthur shot his spend all over your soft skin as he thrust into your hands wildly. You came undone, his fingers filling you, stroking you, making you feel satisfied for the first time. 

Arthur rolled off you and gathered you into his arms. "Was that good fer you?" 

You cuddled into his warm chest, listening to the sound of his heart. "Yes. Thank you. For everything."

He kissed your forehead. "Any time, darlin'."

***

You woke up to the sound of a gun belt being moved around and buckled. Slowly getting up, you rubbed your eyes and blinked. In the dim morning light, you saw Arthur, fully dressed, his back to you. 

Your heart clenched a little bit. You knew he was just here for a job, nothing more. But you had grown fond of him in the past two nights. 

He turned to you once he had secured his belt. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb ya."

"No, it's fine, I need to get up anyway."

Walking back to you, he sat next to you on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his. "You ever need me, leave a message for Tacitus Kilgore at the post office."

You nodded. "I will."

Arthur smiled and patted your head. "Atta girl. I'll see ya around."

You watched him get up and go to your door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to you one last time. 

"I mean it. If you need me for anythin'." 

He smiled cheekily at you before he opened the door and quickly left, leaving you shocked and amused. 

You wondered how long it would take you to save up another ten dollars. 

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

End Notes: Ohhhhhh boy, I'd have an Arthur Morgan savings account, if you know what I mean. Hope you enjoyed the story, @victoodles! I know it's been a long time coming, thanks for your patience!

[littlewalken]

Citrus free Husbands, Aziraphale/Brother Frances comes to the rescue when Crowley/Nanny’s duties to Warlock cause him some distress, woe be them if they are caught in a compromising position!

GOOD OMENS (I couldn’t figure out a title)

“Master Warlock I have told you to stay away from that pond! The ice is much too thin!” 

Aziraphale, in his guise of the gardener Brother Francis, hated scolding the boy, even if he was the Antichrist, but safety was safety, and he had heard the terrible sound of the ice breaking followed by a frantic splashing. 

I shall have to have a word with Nanny Ashtoreth about this, any excuse to see Crowley-eh? he chuckled to himself. “How about you make a snow fort? I’ll show you how…”

As Aziraphel neared the duck pond he saw Warlock and his friends running away from it. All for the better if you don’t want a scolding from your nanny! Where was she? Something was wrong.

At first the ice of the duck pond looked undisturbed. Then he saw the remote controlled vehicle Warlock had got for Christmas. Then he saw the umbrella.

“Oh help! Do help!” Aziraphale called as he made his way out on to the ice. “Someone help! The nanny’s fallen through the ice!”

Now, you should know there are a great many snakes who can swim. There are a great many demons who can swim. None of them however swim in icy water because none of them are the least bit built for the cold. For if you had taken any sort of notice in wildlife documentaries you would have noticed all the creatures of the arctic or antarctic are rather plump with a great covering of blubber. And if you were any sort of noticer of Crowley’s forms the words “plump” and “blubber” would not in the least bit apply to him.

It was by any and all means that Aziraphael managed to pull Crowley out of the icy water. “Oh! Poor nanny!” Aziraphael sighed, just in case anyone was watching. “You’ll catch your death a cold if you’re not warmed up!” 

The house was too far to take a human in wet quickly turning to ice clothes. The gardening supply shed was closer. Yes, get Crowley in there, put on the electric kettle, get him out of these wet things! So may wet things!

Aziraphale set Crowley on a pile of seed sacks in the gardening shed and plugged in the electric kettle. 

“Smudge pot,” he told himself. “I’ll light up a smidge pot!” Yes, even though that would be outside the door it would still put out a good amount of heat. “And then we’ll have to do something with getting you out of those wet clothes!” 

Always the angel was looking to see if someone else was coming, if anyone had heard his cries for help. How awful, just down right awful would it be to have the gardener be caught undressing the nanny!

Now you should assume two things about all of Crowley’s clothes, even in his guise of Nanny Ashtoreth. First they are all black, unless noted otherwise, and they are all made of artificial fabrics. That is, if they were made of natural fabrics such as wool, silk, cotton, or linen, their natural wicking motion might not have left the situation so cold and damp. 

To peel off the layers of the onion that made up Nanny Ashtoreth it was best to start with the outermost first. I hope we don’t have far to go, Aziraphale readied himself for the task ahead. First in removing all of Crowley’s wet things was the furry black muff with its red satin lining. This was hung up to dry. Finding a place to hang things up would soon become a problem of its own. 

Next came a felt cap, which didn’t look like a butter bowl, and a knitted scarf with just the slightest hint of red. The scarf was so wet it could be wrung out. Now it was time for the cloak with its little slits for one’s hands to poke through. The buttons for this were quite large and it seemed like each took a dreadfully long time. On being hung up upon a rake to dry the cloak began to drip as if it were going to worm a pond of its own.

“Here, now, miss Ashtoreth, have a nice warm cuppa.” Aziraphale said as he made a cup of instant tea for Crowley. He looked out the door at the flaming smudge pot. Oh please someone come and help me get her to the warmth of her bed. He put the cup in Crowley’s hand but the demon failed to grab it and the tea spilled to the floor.

The shoes had to come off. Leave it to Crowley to chose boots with countless eyes! The laces were quite frozen over and the boots were so tight the laces had to be pulled completely out to get them free and expose Crowley’s tosey-woseys clad in their stockings. 

One by one the fingers of the gloves were tugged on, loosening them up just enough so they could be removed. The removal of gloves could be a very sensual thing if done right. Done in a hurry they were bunched and pulled and dropped to the floor with a distinct splosh sound.

They were down to the winter version of the suit Nanny Ashtoreth always wore. Aziraphile liked the cut of the jacket, the slightly puffed sleeves, the wide cuffs, the little peplum in the back. It too was sopping wet. Fussing with the buttons the angel wondered if it was time to perform a miracle yet. 

Now it was time for the skirt. The cut of this Aziraphale didn’t like. It was too tight here, too full there, and the drape didn’t do any favors. Like the fasteners, who ever thought that a skirt needed a buckle? 

This would be the perfect time for someone to come upon us! Here is the gardener with the nanny bent over him as he fiddled with the zipper of her skirt! It would be nice if you could come to and help, dear Crowley. 

We must be nearing the end, the angel thought, how could you possibly be wearing much more? But Crowley was still wearing more. For being a demon and used to the fires of Hell he liked being warm and had been told the best way to keep a human body warm was to wear many layers. 

Aziraphale’s fingers went to the red silken bow of the scarf at Crowley’s neck. This was allowed to flutter to the floor because the blouse its self, wet, thin, see-through, and clinging to every inch of what lay underneath it, gave the impression of being real silk. 

“This I must be careful with,” the angel told himself as he cast a glance outside but no one except the smudge pot was watching. But by the third button he could tell the blouse wasn’t real silk and he allowed himself to rush along. 

By this time Nanny Ashtoreth was quite undressed but not completely. She sat on the pile of sacks, eyes presumably closed, looking half dead in a shimmering full length slip and stockings. If circumstances were different one might have found themselves distracted by the sight, admiring the human form that God had created in her own image. But a nearly naked and wet demon was turning a shade of blue that was not becoming to him. 

What few clothes that remained on Crowley’s body were somehow still soaking wet. The slip had to come off over his head, one of the satin ribbon straps was starting to fray, it would need to be replaced, that could be done tonight, nice and new by the morning. 

And still Crowley was wearing more! Under the slip there was a full and sensible brassiere and then some sort of girdle looking garment with suspenders that kept the stockings up. 

Knickers, were there knickers? Did Crowley even wear knickers? 

Yes, all these things seemed to be wet too but not as wet as the outer layers. These would have to remain on. As tempting as it would be to fuss with all the brassiere hooks and all the little clips holding up the stockings this layer of dainty underthings would have to remain.

Aziraphale quickly found a piece of burlap to wrap around Crowley. He thought he heard someone coming. If they were they’d find him outside at the smudge pot trying to dry his smock.

“How are you doing in there, miss Ashtoreth, feeling warmer yet?”

Warlock’s mother had come looking cold and quite worried, “Warlock said nanny Ashtoreth fell through the ice.”

“Oh, it’s not quite as bad as that but I’m afraid she’s quite cold,” Aziraphale said. “She should get promptly to bed though. I’ve been trying to warm her up, but slowly mind you, too fast might cause shock.”

***

Nanny Ashtoreth lay in her bed wearing a flannel nightgown under many layers of blankets. 

Brother Francis came in with a bouquet of winter flowers. “Feeling better are we, Miss Ashtoreth?”

“Yes, much warmer.” 

“I saw your clothes to the laundry for you.”

“Thank you, brother Francis.” 

Aziraphael looked around to see that they were indeed alone and leaned close to Crowley to whisper, “You could have lent us a hand with a few things there.”

“And deny you of all that fun?”

[kandyrezi]

red sky at night;

fandom: the gray garden

characters/pairings: yosafire/ivlis

summary: “some things were simply so much more divine when broken. it was only a matter of time until the only thing on her mind was him. and only him.” | word count: 1.5k

warnings: strong hints of noncon and depression. slight lemon. proceed with caution!

///

far, far above the ground floor from all the commotion, strange faces, and servant demons, in a private area only select few were allowed to enter. the small ounce of light bouncing off the red sun that reflected from the window in shapes of four small squares, giving the room a much warmer hue. anything but, it felt suffocating to the one it reached, wrapping itself around her throat until she felt nothing but the smothering heat from all around her. the chain attached to the bedpost giving not a lot of room to move around only added to this feeling.

ghastly and slowly losing color in eyes of the small demon, with her legs tangled around the white bedsheets, bathing the rest of her skin, the bruisings and claw marks becoming more visible to the naked eye.

choosing to focus on what’s on the other side of her assailant, whom she heard pacing as his feet clicked against the ground, then he seemed to stop momentarily after a little time passes once the door shut behind him again, allowing nothing to interrupt.

“do you miss them?”

it was the first thing he’d said to her once stepping into the bedroom, then shifting his weight onto the mattress, freeing himself of the charcoal coat around his shoulders. she felt him inch closer, closer. after being called to deal with some inconsequential business by one of his subordinates, he’d still have to go back soon, but having some time to spare until then; and he had no intentions on letting it go to waste.

ivlis was glad to find the small demon still where they’d left off earlier, her half-naked form tangled in the silky sheets in an attempt to, and ultimately not accomplishing much by trying to hide in the covers. a simple collar to match her eyes around her neck as well, chained to the bed wall. just to be secure, of course. the fact she looked lovely wearing it and fit perfectly was simply an added bonus.

despite not having much will or enthusiasm to talk, not in the way that she normally would in conversing someone’s ears off - not that time though.

but the word left her lips before she could think too much about her current predicament.

“...who?”

despite being turned the other way, she could feel the grin on his face, as he sat still on the bed, looking at her slightly disheveled disposition; knees brought close to chest and arms wrapped around her waist.

“your friends back at the gray world. i wonder whether or not they miss you.”

yosafire turned her body ever so slightly, thighs no longer pressed together to properly glare up at him.

“you… you took me away from them! what do you think?!”

the first few words came out a bit scratchy, her throat still a little raw from screaming earlier, no intentions on wearing out her energy anytime soon it would seem, still able to raise voice a few octaves above the one she usually talked to him with; somber and oh, so hostile. despite having been quiet for some time the past few weeks, the fire never ceased cease to burn in her veins; hatred shone in her fatigued eyes that had dark, crescent moon-shaped circles underneath them, as she gazed back at him from where she lay next to him.

the flame devil’s lips quirked upwards just a bit; despite the time that has passed, the young demon before him still hadn’t let go of her fiery attitude even after losing something she held near and dear to heart, to an extent anyway. pitiful, but admirable. keeping a brave facade was useless if the smell of fear lingered in the air and clung to sweat-welled skin like venom for everyone to spot in the dark.

(he wondered briefly if it reminded him a little too much of himself, but he pushed those thoughts at the back of his head in an instant.)

“my, such bravery all of a sudden, my pet. and how do you plan to resist me, exactly?”

making himself more comfortable, supporting the weight of his upper body with his elbow whilst his unoccupied hand reached for the sheets, slowly pulling it from her hips, exposing slight view of her pink panties, rest covered by a white blouse, for now at least.

“...or have you forgotten your place already?”

ivlis reached to graze his sharp finger across her rosy cheeks, but the instant the rough texture made contact with her soft skin, she pushed it away with the back of her hand, shifty turning her head away from him.

“wh-what do you want from me?! stay away!”

inching away to get as much distance as possible, yet her attempts at resistance were nothing short of amusing, if also incredibly pathetic. choosing a more abrasive route that time around, the devil grasped her chin in between his thumb and index finger, forcing her eyes to make contact with his own and keeping her in place to cease her senseless writhing. the rose-tinted glasses were off; he found himself being harsher on her whenever she had them on for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. an influx of rage-infested emotions burned within him whenever he gazed at them – almost as if in his mind, he were looking at someone else, pretending to be at his mercy, obliterate any sense of dignity and pride left.

“what do i want?” licking his lips, momentarily gazing at the wall behind her, until he reached some kind of epiphany in his thoughts, then his eyes wandered down at her like predator to prey. “well... isn’t that obvious?”

grasping her thigh with his large, scaled hand, he yanked her body closer as the chain attached to the wall would allow, making her squeak in surprise. angling her so she lay on her back properly and pin her down against the soft surface, fingers ghosting over her skin, moving higher up, slowly, teasingly.

“as a matter of a fact, what i want right now… i’ve already gotten it, haven’t i?”

letting his scaly fingers slip into the edges of her underwear, as yosafire suddenly felt the fabric ripping, until it was completely torn and nothing but small ribbons beneath her legs. forcing a gasp from her throat, instinctively trying to press her legs together, but the hand in between them kept her thighs separated.

“you and your little friends didn’t have the power to stop me before and you certainly don’t have it now. resistance is futile, after all, yosafire.”

shuddering slightly at hearing her name being said as if it were a warning or a threat, yet not rattling her enough to falter the glare on her flushed face, poorly masked dread clear as the sun.

some things were simply so much more divine when broken. he couldn’t help but admire his handywork, sculpting the smaller demon around his hands and bending her to his will, no place left untouched no matter how much aversion he was met with in return. it was only a matter of time until the distant memories of her friends in the other world would become nothing but vanishing silhouettes, a fruitless hope to cling to; and he would pluck away every single one of them, until the only thing on her mind was him. only him.

“you made your choice, and with that...”

nipping at her bare skin and leaving faint red lines across them, sharp teeth grazed across pulse through her blouse, enjoying the way it was rapidly speeding up. it took every willpower in him to not rip off the fabric, separating the last barrier between their two intervened bodies. but he wanted to savor this moment, savor it for a long time.

what had happened, it had been feeble victory in the end, but by the direction his plan had gone, there was no winning a losing war. tricking the small demon into thinking her devil was dying to get her to comply with whatever he’d asked, it didn’t accomplish the goal he’d went to the other world for originally, but it had been victory enough for him, for now.

the light that reflected through the window had angled in the time that passed through the session, with the small demon no longer being the main focus of the red sun, having drifted over to the edge of the bed.

hearing him leave the room, all she could do is await his return once again. yosafire went back to hiding her face in the sheets, trying to ignore the pulsating wetness between her thighs or not touch the fresh marks on her skin, her shoulders and neck specifically, instead pulling the covers over them as much as her willpower would allow her to. his words echoed in her head even after the room was quiet once again and no one else there but the smiling faces of her friends at the back of her thoughts.

‘you’re mine. and i’m never letting you leave.’

the humid air no longer suffocated her, the cold air instead prickling at her arms and legs, bringing more attention to all the damage than wanted left all over her.

[cherrytart-ffxiv]

taji’s tales.

Before anything else, I fell in love with her hands.

They were always cold, no matter how hot it was outside. And they were tiny. I often wondered how such small hands could accomplish so much. I remember the summer of the cycle she had turned sixteen, sitting on the porch of Wells’ family great big farm house and being spellbound by Audrey and her guitar. She played it with love. She could play anything, too. Name a song and she could play it for you, smiling the entire time. If she didn’t know it, all you had to do was tell her the chords. It would only take a minute for her to piece together and turn entirely into her own; elegant, and beautiful, meaningful.

I was enchanted by her hands, the way that her fingers moved over the strings with ease, without so much as a second thought as to placement, the way they made the instrument sing even when the strings were worn and needed replacing. She had a gift. Musically, Audrey had always been brilliant. I was just a humble fan, someone she’d play for on long summer nights when lightning bugs sparked and the waves lapped against the shore and the moon shone bright on the fields. I’d close my eyes and go somewhere else, for a little while, her sweet voice flowing out from between her lips as she swayed on the porch, one leg up close to her, the other on a lower step.

I fell in love with her voice second. It was perfect. She needed no formal training; Audrey sang like an angel without even trying. There was emotion behind every syllable, and she could drop a note and leave it there. She was decisive, and she was skilled, knowing just how to draw out or cut her words to leave you hanging on to every one. And we’d watch, her little audience, as her slender fingers moved rapidly to strum out chords and notes, as that beautiful voice wove us stories about great loves and sad passings and of places far away from where we sat, by the seaside.

Sometimes the songs were sad, sometimes they were happy and bright, sometimes they made you want to get up and dance - and we did, laughing as we spun around the front yard of that big farmhouse, and she’d smile, bobbing her head to the boys playing barrels and buckets as drums to her guitar. She’d smack against the wood to provide the beat, tap her foot, as ribbons of black hair fluttered in the breeze. Those were blissful days. Those were the days I never wanted to end. Everything in the world be damned but Audrey and her instruments, because who were we to have other business when a divine being sat before us? And I think that was the summer I knew - I knew, and learned, that I loved more than just her hands and her voice. I loved the girl.

I don’t think she ever loved me beyond a best friend, a big brother where Connor had failed her. That was okay. I didn’t need to make her mine. I just needed to be around her. I needed to hear her eternally loud laugh, adorable and infectious. Even if nothing was funny, if she was laughing, she had everyone around her in stitches. Audrey glowed. She was the life of every party and the apple of every eye. White cotton dresses and a sheet of shining black hair, with big eyes that were alight with intelligence and gentleness both, with a fair complexion that looked like glass with natural pink hues staining her cheeks and lips. Yes, she was beautiful; she was ethereally, otherworldly beautiful, with a body that left us all weak in the knees when she danced - and kami preserve, when she danced. If her voice was an instrument, her body was an orchestra. I could have watched the way she moved, effortlessly, joy in every motion, elegant or seductive or both or somewhere in between.

I could sing praises about Audrey’s beauty and talents for years. She was strong, and whip smart. She observed the world quietly and knew a hundred times more than she ever let on. Her convictions, her sense of right and wrong, her deep compassion and sense of justice in an unjust world - what was a puppy dog eyed boy to do? I had seen the horrors inflicted by the yakuza my father worked at the head of. I had held a gun, by that age, to the head of a weeping man. My hands didn’t deserve the summertime warmth of Audrey. That did not stop them from craving it, from me wanting to be wrapped in her golden glow and to sink it, disappear in it. Sure, she could kick my ass, but she never did. Audrey, then, was gentle. She was soft. I was blind to the anger growing in her. I was blind to the injustices she was experiencing. I don’t know if I can ever repent enough for being so blinded by her brilliance that I didn’t see it was an act so that no one would see the cracks in her armor.

Three cycles later, when I came back from Kugane and she didn’t recognize me, I couldn’t blame her. If it hadn’t been for her eyes, for the beauty mark at the bottom of the left one, I might not have recognized her, either. That golden piece of summertime had changed. Her hip length hair had been cut short, up to her chin, bleached of its natural raven hue and dyed a bright pink that screeched for her to be noticed. A girl that had lived her life naturally and comfortably was done up in glittery makeup and tight fitting mini skirts, blouses with plunging necklines and bared midriffs. It would have been fine if I thought it was her choice. But I knew about “Cherry.” My father has warned me before I went back to Eorzea, about what had become of Audrey. They had eyes everywhere.

Trafficked. Controlled by an obsessive pimp. Audrey was skin and bones when I saw her again. Her collarbones were so pronounced that one could collect water in each of them. She was frail, thin, her big eyes exhausted and marked by dark circles beneath them. A bruise - dark and angry - marked her jaw as she moved slowly into my mother’s shop. She looked right at me and didn’t recognize me. But she smiled at me. I saw the dimples in her cheeks. I was weak. I took the bait she offered. I took her into my bed and I didn’t tell her who I was. Covered in tattoos and scars, I suppose I looked worlds different, too.

There is no atoning for my weakness. There is no redemption for making love to Audrey when I knew who she was and she didn’t know me. I am disgusting. I am no better than any other man who has touched her because they just wanted to. Teenage fantasies ran away with me. I held her hands. They were still cold. Tiny. Soft. The callouses from her guitar were gone. I almost burst into tears when I felt how smooth they were. She hadn’t been playing. She hadn’t been playing for a very long time. What had Ul’dah done to her? What had her pimp done to her? Why hadn’t Connor been protecting her?

I remember her running to the apothecary shop, sandles in one hand while the scarf she made out of her mother’s cardigan hung around her neck. She stopped short when she saw me, eyes wide. She spoke my name. My name. It sounded like a breathless song on her tongue. All at once, it seemed, she remembered me. She remembered me, just as I was about to set sail for Kugane again. I brought her inside. We split an order of curry while her leg bounced nervously, eyes flickering nonstop towards the door I had locked behind us. How many pairs of eyes were watching her at any given moment? Including those from Kugane, from Doma... The bruise on her jaw was still there. I figured she was right to be worried. Anger roared on me, that anyone would put hands on her. That they would succeed. The Audrey I knew...

The Audrey I knew was stuck. She was trapped. She still flared in that little body, but she was muted. A summertime glow, spinning cherry blossom petals, fresh cherries on her tongue as she laughed - I could tell these were all distant memories for her. More distant for her than for me. And it was with desperation that I asked her to come with me to Kugane. We would protect her. She looked at me with such a sad smile, with a shake of her head that shifted her neon pink hair, as her fork shifted rice around on her plate. She had done a lot of that; shifting her food, but not eating it.

“I can’t. There’s too much debt here. Someone will get hurt if I leave, and I can’t even tell you who. But someone would pay for me disobeying. And I can’t live with that... Taji.”

The next day, I had to get on a ship and leave the first - the only - person I had ever loved behind, in one of the worst situations you could place a person in. It felt wrong. It all felt wrong, and foul, and vile. No one should look like that at nineteen, I thought. No girl her age should have eyes so ancient and exhausted. I cursed myself for leaving. I cursed myself for listening to my own orders. And I curse myself every day that I didn’t insist that she come. But what would it have fixed? Another man, telling her what to do, where to go...

Reports come in about her. Mori knows about her. Our people are watching, but to what end? She doesn’t even know her full heritage. Of course, clever girl has her suspicions, but that’s all. She’s got nothing to work off of other than some hunches. Still... Still, if there’s anything that I believe in, it’s Audrey’s brain. Audrey’s determination. Audrey’s stubbornness. Her unwavering resolve and the way she grits her teeth in the face of adversity, only to bloom from it. She grows through mud. She always has. And she has always come out more beautiful and more brilliant at the end of it.

I’m on a boat back to Eorzea as I write this. Back to Ul’dah. Back to... her. Mom needs my help in the shop. I need to see if any of the life has come back to Audrey’s eyes. I missed her twentieth nameday. She never liked celebrating them. I wonder if she celebrated this one. I wonder if she has people who love her, care for her. I want to know. I want to see her. I want make sure... I don’t know. I won’t know for sure what I’m looking for until I get there. Maybe it’s just her face. Maybe it’s her laugh. Maybe I’m hoping she’s dusted off her guitar and started to play again, that she’s found a reason to. No, she may not be mine. But whether I am a lover or a friend or a brother, I love Audrey Wells. That much will never change. No matter what.

[selenelavellan]

Intoxication

Vampire AU

Smut overwhelmingly won the Halloween Poll, so here we are. Enjoy <3.

Anaris and Melarue(both mentioned) are @justanartsysideblogs

Dirthamen, Deceit, and Fear are @feynites

It's a bit of madness, when they start.

Things develop quickly enough that no one has time for second thoughts, for doubts or worries to sink in or take hold. It's practically a haze.

A searing, blazing, haze of flesh and blood and...fuck, there are so many hands and fingers and she's supposed to be keeping track, supposed to be better at this.

She used to be better at this, she thinks.

But there's a mouth on her neck and a tongue laving her skin while a growl rumbles out of her throat and into the mouth of another elf that tastes like lavender and ice cream and it's good, it's good, it's so fucking good. She'd forgotten how good it feels to be touched, almost. Except she's let them touch her before, but it wasn't-

It was something else, before.

She was in their lap and on top and in control of the situation, but there's no perspective on this, on what's happening now, where she's the one in control. Their fingers undo the buttons of her blouse slowly and purposefully while her nails catch and snag on the fine fabric of their pants-she's not even sure whose, at this point, but fuck she wants them both, wants them both to want her, wants to taste them and consume them and devour them.

Wants to drag them down to where she is; frenzied and hungry and turned on in a way she'd forgotten she was even capable of. She's been so cold and still and without so much as a heartbeat for centuries but somehow these two have managed to set her ablaze without sunlight and it's good, it's good, it's so good.

They could turn her to ash this way and she would thank them for the opportunity.

Selene has just enough sense left in her to wonder how this even happened; how she had gone from Deceit, strumming and smiling on one of their instruments while their lord Dirthamen had read aloud to her, to arching and keening and craving them like an animal that hasn't fed in months.

Ah yes. Poetry.

How pathetic; horny and turned to a puddle of nearly-there-already goo from some pretty mortal reciting poetry.

She'd be embarrassed, if anyone else ever had to know.

Her reputation down in flames, certainly unable to ever look Anaris in the eye again.

'Sorry I keep turning down the invitations to your orgies, but do give me a call if you ever decide to have a poetry reading.'

It's disgraceful, is what it is.

Feeding into stereotypes of rich, upper class vampires who only feed on doe-eyed innocent mortals and live in large lavish mansions and....hrm...well....

That's not really what matters now, she supposes.

Dirthamen finally pulls back from their kiss and she nearly chases after him, hungry for another taste already, so soon. Body eager and pleading for more, so much more. But Deceit fills in the gap while Dirthamen drops to his knees and it's spice and warmth while their fingers rise up from the base of her skull to curl into her curls while Dirthamens lips find her legs and whisper a teasing trail up to where they meet before the dear, cursed, man stops just before he gets where she wants him, where she needs him, where she might already be ash for all she knows from the heat of it all.

“May I taste you?” He asks, blue eyes dark and vibrant in the flickering torchlight, pupils nearly blown already while he waits for her permission.

She should answer him. That'd be the polite thing to do here, she supposes.

But then, they'd passed polite back when he'd started kissing lewd lines into her flesh, soft lips exploring cold skin and leaving longing in their wake.

Her fingers bury in the dark silken strands of his hair, the ribbon that normally keeps it respectably tied back falling away with a clean tear of her nails, while she guides his head wantonly to the consuming ache between her legs.

Selene lets out a sigh of relief when his mouth finally covers her and wonders if, perhaps, she made the wrong choice not simply stealing him back to her home that first night.

She moans out Dirthamens name only to be greeted with Deceits body pressed firmly against her back, their cheek pressed to hers. The smell of them here, now, so close and so warm is intoxicating.

Fuck, how is she supposed to deal with all of this in her current state? She had come here to feed and gotten all caught up in...romance, she supposes. Something deep in her heats up at the thought, igniting her further while she pushes Dirthamen harder against herself with a heavy moan.

Deceits hands roam over her skin, their own clothing long discarded in the events while her head is spinning, overwhelmed with muscles taut and straining, hips bucking towards the tongue delving deep into her cunt.

Her hand leaves Dirthamens head at Deceits prodding, wrapping up and around where they stand behind her while they gently remind her that “Us mortals need to breathe.”

She gives an unimpressed grunt in return, unable to really manage anything more intelligible at the moment.

She used to be better at this, she berates herself again.

Dirthamen pulls back to take a few deep breaths and she whines at the loss but Deceit keeps her pressed firmly against them. She could escape, if she really tried. But breaking physical contact with either of them is exactly the opposite of what she wants right now, so she relents while Deceit splays her open in their lap. Her knees skid against the cold wood of the floor while he lowers the both of them down to the ground.

It hurts, but it's a good pain.

Grounding, and solid.

Deceits erection presses insistently against her backside while Dirthamen returns his mouths attentions to her core and she loses the last of her coherency. There's only tongues and fingers and flesh, and she cries out for both, pressing backwards and forwards, craving intimacy and passion and blood.

One of their fingers slips into her mouth and she snatches it greedily, her own tongue twisting around it. Sucking until it scrapes against a fang, and blood leaks from it into her mouth.

And then it is a frenzy.

The elf behind her moans and ruts against her while she feeds from them, sucking their finger and wishing it were their cock instead. Wanting them filling her, flooding her, fucking her.

They pull their finger from her mouth and she whines again, nearly falling forward onto Dirthamen. Her eyes slit open and catch contact with Fear in the corner, and one of her own fingers curls towards them.

“Come here,” She requests. She can feel it from here; not purposely, she's not trying to pull at their mind or their memories, but their wants are so strong she can feel them from across the room while they watch. Nanae mentioned this could happen; magic materializing in strange ways as she 'ages', often without control or true intention.

In another state of mind, it might even be cause for her to leave.

But not now.

Not here.

She watches their throat bob and growls, low and deep in her throat, and wonders what they will taste like. If they will be sweet, or bitter, or maybe just taste like copper.

She finds herself intensely curious of the answer, in any case.

“Not today,” They manage, and some dark corner of her mind dislikes their answer. Wants to ply them into joining and taste their blood and their cunt and make them ride her wrists and thighs until they are spent and exhausted and enthralled.

But she does not press them, and instead returns her focus to the two elves already enjoying her body.

Patience.

Not her strong suit.

Dirthamen's tongue finds her clitoris and wraps around it, and she keens, attentions pulled swiftly back to matters at hand. She gives him a few more minutes, wallowing and shivering at the sensations before she pulls him away and up to her eye level, one hand cupped around his jaw while she admires his face.

Flushed and glistening and beautiful.

“Fuck me,” She says to her lovers.

Neither of them need to be told twice.

Deceit prepares her backside, a bottle of lubrication already within arms reach in his current position, while Dirthamen lines himself up in the front.

He enters her first, slowly, tentatively.

She may go mad from the strain of waiting.

But then he is fully sheathed inside her, filling her while they pant against one another, his face buried against the shoulder not currently occupied by Deceit, who is still slowly and gently stretching out her ass.

Mortals, she huffs internally.

For creatures with so little time, they sure do enjoy a slow burn.

She grows less patient and more hungry, more needy, mind and body just wanting them to fill her and fuck her already. Her patience finally snaps as she thrusts back into them, taking Deceit inside her in one solid go.

It knocks the wind out of them both for a moment, before they can catch up to her pace.

And then it is good, it's good, it's so good.

Her body twists and pants and arches between them, pulling and pushing, clutching and craving. One hand twisted in each of their hair, barely able to tell where one ends and the other begins but fuck it doesn't even matter. They've got her, propped up between them and she's drowning and suffocating on the scent of them, fangs and nails long and sharp and fuck, fuck, they're hers now, no going back. Her mind and body reacting more strongly than they ever have in her long memory, hips rolling with their rhythm; rough and deep, and full. A haze of lust and passion and desire.

Intoxicating.

Dirthamen's rhythm finally stutters as the sweat on his brow drips to the wooden floor beneath them, his fingers pressing deeper into her hips where he is holding on, a long low groan falling from his lips and Selenes eyes go wide with realization as she feels him flood her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She cant' help it. She cums, clenching down on the both of them and dragging Deceit along with her as her muscles clench and tighten and there is a bright burst of white light behind her eyelids before she is shivering in the aftermath. Slick and still tightly held between the pair.

Her chest heaves, hands sliding out of their hair to rub gently against each of their cheeks.

Deceits finger is still bleeding slowly where it rests against her breast.

She waits a few moments for their heartbeats to return to a normal rhythm.

And starts round two.

–

[blasphoeme]

I Love You More Than Ice Cream

Chap 4/? Ratings: M (for now~)

Chapter Summary:

It’s the day that we’ve all been waiting for! Let’s see how Jon and Dany go on their first date! Just a heads up, this is only PART ONE of two chapters that make up their date. This is just the first step. 

As usual, this can be found on Ao3 along with the previous chapters :) Happy reading!!! XD

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3

The sun was setting as nightfall approached on a beautiful Sunday evening. The weather was getting warmer with spring gradually gaining momentum. The cherry blossom trees lining the streets were beginning to bloom, blinking open to show off their pale pink petals and stamen within. Hugging the white fur ball to her, nuzzling her nose into Ghost’s downy soft fur, Dany couldn’t suppress her smile. They had been walking for about ten minutes now, quiet but companionably comfortable ten minutes. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. “So… Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Earlier, Jon, a nervous ball of a man he was with his furry companion tucked in the crook of his arm, finally mastered up his courage to ring the doorbell after a good fifteen minutes of pacing. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since the day he laid eyes on the owner of this wonderful place. So absorbed in his head, going over the details, making sure he had everything down for their date, he didn’t even notice Dany swinging open the front door until the sensation of his very excited puppy’s tail went smack, smack, smack against his torso like a whip drew his attention to the lady before him. Ghost’s little limbs flailed happily as his new favourite person came into view. Jon on the other hand, found himself once again, standing at her doorstep with his mouth agape. If this happened every time he looked at this woman, his heart would sure to explode one day. Looking at her, just like always, had his breath stuttering about and his mind momentarily short circuiting, forgetting all knowledge of sensibility as all thoughts vacated his head leaving behind only one which was how lovely she looked. Curls that shimmered interchangeably between silver and gold flowed freely past her shoulders and tumbled down her back. Around her head, two braids lay intertwined, reminiscent of a crown. The ends swished, grazing the small of her back as she joined him on the porch, donning a dark blue woollen cardigan that reached her mid thigh over a simple cream coloured blouse tucked into a pastel pink skirt that ended just above her knees. Her ensemble was complete with a pair of black legging and white sneakers. Realizing that he was gawking, Jon finally lifted his eyes up to meet Dany’s purple ones. “Hello again.” The apples of her cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of pink. Dany echoed his greeting with a demure, breathless ‘hello’ of her own.

“Since you didn’t specify what we’d be doing tonight, I just well… dressed for comfort. I hope what I have on isn’t too casual.”

“No.” Taking a breath, willing his heart to return from its marathon, he couldn’t resist giving her a once over again. “This is perfect. You look lovely today. Not that you don’t already look beautiful to begin with…”

The two of them stood grinning at each other like two love struck fools, both of them nervous and thrilled to be in each other’s company once more. “Thanks.” The blush upon her cheeks flamed a little more. Leaning against the door behind her with the door jab digging into her back, Dany sighed, feeling utterly relieved knowing that her efforts to look pretty since this morning right into the afternoon was paying off.

Allowing herself to take in Jon’s appearance for the first time that day, she wondered to if it was too soon to say she was falling for this man? How could someone look even more appealing to the eye with just a simple change of clothing? His hair was still its gorgeously tousled mop of curls. Those dreamy deep brown eyes were still just as soulful as the week before and his face was just as handsome as the very first moment she glimpsed his visage over her ice cream freezer. His body on the other hand? Biting back an appreciative moan, Dany’s bottom lip slipped between her teeth as her eyes hovered over his torso. Who knew under his usual baggy hoodies hid a figure so fine. Under his white washed fur lined denim jacket, oh how that checked buttoned down shirt of his clung to his body like a glove. The barest hint of sculpted pecs contoured by cotton fabric peeked at her from the confines of his shirt. Her fingers longed to caress his body. What would it feel like be all pressed up against him? How would his muscles feel under her fingers? And lastly, those dark jeans of his, she had no doubt, defined his very supple ass. She wanted to swoon so badly. “You look really handsome today too.” Fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, Jon mumbled a quiet thanks, a flush blazing up his neck. How bizarre an experience being in love was? Was it too early to say he loved this stunning woman? To him it was as if time stopped just for a while and there was nothing else in the entire world but the two of them, every time she was near. There was nothing in the world except her and him. Having not seen her for just a week felt like decades. He’d missed her so much. Her smile, her eyes, her face, everything. He wondered if Dany felt that too.

“Oh, and umm... These are for you.” Pulling his hand from behind his back to the front, Jon showed her what he brought. It was a tiny bouquet of multi-coloured daisies held together with a dainty pink bow that just so happened to match the hue of her skirt. He presented them to her like a proud little boy showing his crush the gift he made for her. In a way, that was actually quite a fitting description for how he felt in that moment, hoping that Dany would like his present. “They’re so pretty, Jon! Thank you.” Reaching for the flowers, Dany took it from him and brought it up to her nose. They smelt like spring, like a green grassy meadow and new beginnings. First checkpoint safely crossed. Freshly picked flowers really were a nice touch. Jon sent a silent thanks to his younger cousin, Sansa and her tips for how to make a good impression on a first date.

The flowers in her hands were the best gift she’d received from a man in such a long while. These flowers were symbolic of what Jon was to her. After years upon years of standing on her own, perhaps this could be a new beginning for her. For the chance to flirt, to be wooed, to go on dates, to miss someone when they were not around. It had been ages since she last felt the agonizing clenching of her heart at craving for someone, waiting for a new day to come, in hopes of seeing them again. How was it possible to miss someone so much when you barely even knew them? So little was exchanged between the two of them and yet that little bit had been everything. She wanted more than just a little bit, she wanted everything. All the moments, tender and sweet, she longed to share them all with the man before her, that much she knew for sure. Peering up at the man before her from behind the blossoms, she confessed quietly: “I’ve missed you.”

Chocolate eyes widened at her words. Jon swore that the thumping organ within the embrace of his ribs swelled to twice its size at the revelation. She’d been thinking about him. She missed him! “I’ve missed you too, Dany. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” Shaking her head slightly, she dismissed his apologetic thoughts. “I know you were busy.” Toying with the ribbon encircling the stems of her flowers, she added with a giggle of anticipation, “Planning our date, I hope?” “I really hope you’ll like what I have planned for you. I can’t take all the credit for it though because I had help.” A nervous chuckle became lodged at the back of his throat. A lot of help. Tucking the flowers into her left coat pocket by her hip, Dany told him with the utmost confidence: “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it. It’s the thought that counts. All that matters is that we get to spend time together.”

Jon’s raven ringlets, which Dany’s fingers desired very much to push away from his left eye,swayed as he shook his head resolutely. He wasn’t going to tell her anything till they got there.

“I doubt you’d surprise me all that much. I grew up here so I know this place pretty well. You’d have to be very sneaky to find somewhere I’ve never been to.” Dany stated as a matter of factly. She didn’t like surprises much and to give her one on their first date was quite bold of him. She had to give him that. “Hmm... yes you did grow up here. But, I know for a fact that you’ve been away for years since college, so I think you shouldn’t underestimate me.” The wink he gave her had butterflies taking flight in her belly again. Gosh, this man was really quite something. Sucking in a shallow breath, her mind couldn’t help wonder how he could remain so calm around her when her body and mind were running wild all over the place just being next to him. What sort of affect did she have on him? Missandei had reassured her repeatedly, pushing down her paranoia, that all she had to do was be herself and everything would be just fine. Jon liked her for who she was after all. Did she need to do something else to charm him?

Stepping into his path, effectively blocking his way, she angled her head up to meet his eyes straight on, Dany decided to do something bold. Tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, batting her eyelashes coquettishly up at him, she formed her words with just the right amount of flirtatiousness and prayed she wasn’t too rusty at this game.“Oh yeah? You sound awfully confident of yourself, Jon Snow.”

With her face so close to his, his vision was filled with her. There was only about a few inches between their bodies with only Ghost keeping them apart. Things would appear to have escalated quite quickly. Jon’s breathing met an involuntary stutter. However, if he were to waste this sudden development, the chance to catalogue every minute detail that composed Dany’s stunning, almost angelic face, he'd be a very foolish fellow. Pushing his nervousness back down with an audible gulp, he began his exploration. First stop on his journey, her incandescent purple eyes that glittered like amethyst crystals under the sun, shining with mischievous glee and a hint of excitement dancing within. Gods, she was captivating. Standing very still before him, Dany observed in delight as his eyes began to roam. Watching him watch her, she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. Cocoa brown eyes drifted down and lingered on her lips within the clutches of her teeth. The pulse under her skin was thrumming away. He was a little bit too close but she was beginning to love the intimacy. Under the setting sun, his pupils seemed to dilate, turning a darker shade of brown as he took her in. Her heart did a little summersault. He desired her! Not letting her glee and sudden bout of excitement that surged through her show, curbing the need to squeal, she stood her ground and allowed his eyes to graze over her like a loving phantom touch. Down his eyes went, over her button nose, over the freckles dusting her cheeks and finally at her lips they loitered. Having her so close to, his body fought the urge to lean in and have a taste of those, plump, petal like lips, to nibble on them for himself and just kiss the life out of her. Unfortunately, his brain told him it was still too soon. This was only their first date for crying out loud. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Jon cleared his throat feeling a little embarrassed now. His eyes darted regrettably to the side, away from her face. Would she think he was too brazen for wanting to kiss her? No, no, quit doubting yourself, Jon. Fists clenched, he wrenched his eyes back to meet her eyes again. A perfectly sculpted brow quirked up at him, posing a silent challenge. A smirk, almost smug perched itself upon her lips, now free from the grasp of her teeth. His heart supplied him with a sudden thought. Was this in fact a challenge to see who would give in first and kiss the other? If that were the case, he had no doubt he’d lose first. Gladly. A sudden breeze had a flurry of cherry blossom petals swirling through the air, picking up Dany’s silver locks on its way and into her face. Spell broken, the two of them were overcome with a fit of silly giggles. On the sidewalk, under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, eyes locked with one another with lingering smiles on their lips, their hearts sang a tune of happiness. “Come on then, let’s keep walking.” With a struck of bravery, though her voice sounded small, Dany hooked her little finger around Jon’s and gave his arm a tug. His skin under her finger felt pleasingly warm. “But you don’t even know where we’re going.” Laughing, Jon reminded her. His senses hyper aware of the point where Dany’s pinkie was hooked around his. His heart danced at her touch. A rush of endorphins coursed through his blood, bumping a blush up to his cheeks as a loony grin took up residence on his face. Skipping ahead of him, she began pulling him along with her down the street. “Well then, quit dawdling and lead the way!” Hearts racing, cheeks rosy and grins so wide their faces were starting to ache, everything was just as it should be.

“This is where our date will be?” Looking up at the bright pink flashing neon sign that read ‘Lone Wolf Diner’, Dany chuckled. “I don’t mind Mister Stark’s food, in fact I love his cooking but...” Cocking her head, she regarded the familiar diner that she knew like the back of her hand. With its little wooden creaky swing set sitting on the front porch, its red and white sign hanging just inside the front door window was still flipped to open to cater for the dinner crowd. “This is a bit anticlimactic.” Holding up his hands, palms up to her in a placating manner, Jon nodded. “I know, I know. You grew up with this place, but this isn’t quite where our destination is. Give me a chance before you dismiss me?” Offering her his hand, flexing his fingers, he urged her to follow him. His dark orbs adopted a sparkle that told her he had something else up his sleeve. “All right.” Taking it eagerly, she went with him. His larger hand engulfed her smaller one, causing her to feel just a tad bit giddy. Giddy like that buzzing feeling in her veins rising to her head that came with one scoop too many of that champagne infused sorbet she used to have sometimes. Trailing after him like a floating helium filled balloon on a string, they ducked into the alley beside the diner. Dodging pass the odd metal trash can, they stopped at the steps of a fire escape. Pointing upwards with a finger, still keeping her hand held in his, unwillingly to let her go, Jon informed her: “Your surprise is just up these stairs.” Dany’s slender fingers enclosed within his, felt so soft, vulnerably dainty and slightly cold. An acute sense of protectiveness washed over him. Wanting to chase away the chill from her skin, he adjusted his grip around her hand to hold it more firmly. Up they went, hand in hand, ascending the stairs to the roof of the diner. Clanging noises echoed through the alley as their feet met each step. When they reached to top, pushing open the metal gate, he indicated for his date to proceed ahead before him.

Stepping clear of the gate with her breath in her throat, she definitely did not see this coming. She had no words besides: “Oh....”.

[awkward-radar-tech]

An Awkward Tech: Part 5

Summary: It has been 3 months since Matt stayed over at your apartment for the first time, and your relationship is going stronger than ever. His family is having a group dinner, and he invites you to come along and meet the rest of his family. 

A/N: Surprise! I finished this finally! I hope you all enjoy, I have like two or three more parts planned, and anything else I think of for these love birds. Larger time jumps to come. 

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8 – Part 9 – Part 10

It was the perfect afternoon, you and Matt finally went to the diner in dapper attire for lunch and now the two of you were sitting in his garden enjoying a picnic while watching the sunset. Life was good with Matt, you loved each other dearly and you couldn’t imagine life with anybody else. His brothers have become less of a nuisance to you, mainly they just say hi if they happen to be around and continue doing whatever they need. One time you, Ally, and the triplets went out for lunch because Ally wanted to approve of this triplet dynamic, and both you and Matt ultimately regretted it because Ally, Ben, and Kylo got along swimmingly and began to trade embarrassing stories about the two of you. And now apparently they have hung out together many times, trading more stories, talking about how grossly in love the two of you are, and bonding so when they become “in-laws” it won’t be awkward as Ally put it to you. You and Matt haven’t even been dating a year yet, just over 7 months, and Ally, Ben, and Kylo believe you’re going to get married. Neither of you have met the others parents yet. You did your best to ignore Ally’s comments, you couldn’t bring yourself to think too far ahead in your relationship.

Matt tapped you on the shoulder, “Hey Angel, you have been offly quiet, is something wrong?”

“Oh no. I’m just thinking about how much I love you Matty.”

“I love you too, princess. I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“My family is having a dinner next week, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me. They all are eager to meet you, so you wouldn’t be intruding, but it will be everyone.”

“What exactly does everyone mean?”

“My brothers, my parents, my maternal uncle, his daughter, my non-biological uncle, my maternal grandma and grandpa, and my mom and uncle’s godfather who is basically my great uncle.”

“Oh wow, that is a large family. I think I’ll come with you, get meeting them all out of the way in one event. And do I get names, or do I have to wait until later?”

“You can have names now. In the order I told you there is Ben, Kylo, Leia, Han, Luke, Rey, Lando Calrissian, Padmé, Anakin, and Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. And yes, Ben is named after him, he helped take care of Luke and mom when grandma Padmé got sick after they were born, and he continued to be a large part of their lives, and now their kids’ lives.”

“That is amazing. What is the story about Lando?”

“Oh, he is a long time friend of my dad’s. My dad has known him just about as long as Uncle Chewie, who I’m not sure yet if he is able to make it. I hope he is, Chewie is the best.”

“Is Chewie his real name?”

“Naw, it is just a nickname he got as a teen. He is very tall and hairy, and where he is from there is this legend about a Sasquatch type thing called Chewbacca, hence Chewie. I don’t even know his real name. I think he legally changed it to Chewie, too.”

“Your family seems very interesting.”

“It most definitely is. I’m excited for you to meet them.”

“I’m excited to meet them.”

The next week, you incessantly text Matt about what to wear for the 8 hours leading to the time he was going to be picking you up. You sent him questions, pictures of the clothes laid on your bed, mirror selfies, pictures you made Ally take of you, links to clothes you could run to the mall and buy, and just general comments of nervousness. He eventually just called you to help calm you down. He told you an outfit to wear, and reassured you that it was perfect. Matt knew this whole mess was due to your nerves about meeting his family, mostly his parents, and he did his best to comfort you.

To help calm you, he arrived early so the two of you could just sit together without anybody around. Ally was spending more and more time at her boyfriend’s, and she left to his place around noon. You felt she was going to move out soon, but that was something you would think about when the time came. You always knew Matt had your best interest in heart, and it definitely showed when he was at your door an hour early holding a brand new fuzzy blanket.

Before you could get a word out he spoke, “I know I’m early, but I figured you would like some time with just me, here alone, before heading over. And I got you this because I know you like fuzzy things.”

You hugged him tight, “Oh Matty, I love you. You’re always so thoughtful and caring. And you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“I love you too, (y/n). You’re the best girlfriend ever. Are you gonna finish getting ready now, or later?”

While you had your hair fixed the way you liked, and had put on your blouse, you still had on your comfy lounge pants and slippers. “I think I’ll change later, I want to use that blanket now.”

You took the blanket out of his hands and took off the tag and ribbon that kept it folded for display, then ran and launched yourself on to your bed, throwing the blanket over yourself. Matt just laughed at your adorably childish ways, and walked in to join you. He took off his shoes and glasses before climbing in behind you, pulling the blanket over himself and then you closer to his body. He held you close, kissing your neck, whispering sweet nothings, and you hummed in content. You loved being held by Matt, he made you feel small and protected, and you could never get enough, especially with the kisses and whispers.

Matt kept an eye on the time, rousing you from the nap you fell into 15 minutes before the time he had said he would pick you up at. He sat on the couch while you finished getting ready, and once you finished, the two of you left for his family’s dinner.

On the ride to his parents’ house you were bouncing your leg in both excitement and nervousness. You hoped that they liked you, that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, and that Uncle Chewie was able to attend. While everybody seemed interesting to you, Chewie fascinated you the most and you couldn’t wait to meet him. The drive wasn’t too long, only half an hour away from your apartment, enough distance between the triplets and their parents for each set to feel comfortable. You knew there was a strong family bond, one you wished you had, and that while the boys needed their freedom, they could never live more than a reasonable drive away from family.

Matt pulled up to a beautiful two-story house with a nice lawn, exactly what you would expect of the home of a semi-famous senator. As always, Matt opened up your car door before offering his arm to you, walking to the front door. He opened the door and walked the two of you in, explaining that it was easier to keep the door unlocked when expecting guests or family than to have somebody answer it every time.

From down the main corridor, a somewhat familiar woman’s voice called out, “Is that you Matt? And is (y/n) with you?”

While leading you to where the voice was coming from Matt responded, “Yes, Mamma, to both questions. And before you ask, we are walking to you now.”

Entering the kitchen, you found a small woman, one you saw every-so-often on the news, but in far different attire. Instead of the suit she adorned for work, Leia was in a nice t-shirt and jeans with an apron on top. She set down the spoon she was using and took off the apron before coming to greet the two of you.

Smiling a warm smile rarely seen on TV, she came and hugged her son, “Hello my darling at-at, how are you?”

“I’m doing fine, Mamma. I would like to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, (y/n).”

Leia turned to you, “It is a delight to finally meet you, (y/n). You are so much prettier in person, pictures can never capture a person’s aura.”

You held out your hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Organa. I’ve been a fan of your senatorial work since I became old enough to vote.”

Leia softly pushed your hand aside, “Oh, darling, just call me Leia. And I’m more of a hugger in a non professional setting, especially with my boys’ girlfriends, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, Leia, I’m more of a hugger too.”

Another voice chimed in while you were hugging Leia, “You’re gonna fit in just fine, kid.”

When you looked at the man who spoke, you could tell just from the hair and the way he held himself that this had to be Han Solo, “I am going to assume you are Han.”

He laughed, “You assume correctly. Nice to meet you, (y/n). Matt, along with his brothers, have told us a lot about you.”

“It is nice to meet you. I see where Kylo and Ben get their hair from. But where does Matt get his hair from?”

Leia rejoined the conversation, “That would be from my side. My father and brother both have blond hair, you’ll see when they get here. Although the curls are from Han.”

Matt groaned, “Okay, that is enough history for now. (Y/n), let me show you around the house.”

You took Matt’s hand and waved to his parents, “It is nice to meet you, see you in a little while.”

Matt lead you through the house, passing by his brothers watching TV, and to the backyard. There was a deck and a nice sized grass area, but what caught your eye immediately was the garden taking up the back portion of the property.

You gasped, “Is that your mom’s garden? It is amazing!”

Matt chuckled, “Of course it is my mom’s garden. Most of my succulents are clippings from her’s. Do you want to go walk through it?”

“Oh yes please Matt,” you squeaked out while squeezing his hand hard and jumping up and down.

Matt just shook his head and lead you to the garden, the two of you walking around looking at all the plants for awhile.

Then you heard Ben’s voice call out, “Hey, you two lovebirds! The Skywalkers are here and Old Ben just pulled up with Grandma and Grandpa. And Dad said Lando is a few minutes away with Chewie.”

Matt called back, “We’ll be in in a moment. Thanks Ben!”

“Yes! I get to meet Uncle Chewie!”

Matt just laughed and pecked your cheek before leading you back in. Entering the room where Ben and Kylo had been watching TV, more people were sitting around talking. There was a man that looked about Leia’s age with a beard, next to him was a girl, then there was a white-haired old man with a beard, another old man, and a very fashionable old lady, and you were pretty sure you could figure out who was who. When they noticed you two had entered the room, all conversation stopped, and they looked at Matt expectantly.

Matt cleared his throat before speaking, “Everybody, this is my girlfriend, (y/n). (Y/n) this my Uncle Luke, mom’s twin, his daughter Rey, my cousin, Obi-wan or Old Ben, my mom and uncle’s godfather, and finally Grandpa Anakin and Grandma Padmé.” Matt pointed at each as he said their name and they waved to you.

Padmé spoke out first, “Oh, aren’t the two of you so precious. You compliment each other perfectly. Ani, aren’t their expressions towards each other familiar? I’m so happy my little Matty found somebody so perfect, and I haven’t even talked with you yet, but we will soon enough.”

Little Rey spoke next, “(y/n), do you like sciencey stuff like cousin Matt?”

You went and knelt down in front of where she was sitting, “Why yes I do, I’m going to become a scientist one day, although in a different area than Matt.”

“Oohh! Matty is gonna be coming to my school soon to talk to the science club at lunch, do ya wanna come with him? I’ll make sure to tell Mr. Windu if you do.”

“I’d love to Rey.”

“Yay! Thank you (y/n), you’re the bestest, just like Matt!”

Kylo and Ben chimed in at the same time, “What about me?”

Rey laughed, “You two don’t like science and building stuff as much as Matty, so you guys are lame.”

The two brothers both acted hurt, and Rey just stuck her tongue out at them, prompting everybody to laugh. Matt joined you on the floor, and the conversation continued on, either about stories of past family gatherings or asking more about you. After some time you leaned over to Matt to ask where the restroom was, and he insisted on escorting you.

Once out of sight of the family he kissed you, “I love you so much. And my family does too. Even little preteen Rey likes you, and normally she just sits bored and quiet at things like this. I think you became her idol when you said you were going to be a scientist and would come talk to her club with me. She never believed me when I told her girls could love science, too, but seeing you proved it to her.”

“Aww, you really think so? I’ll talk science with her as much as she wants.”

“You’re amazing, Angel.”

He continued to guide you to the restroom and waited to escort you back, detouring through the kitchen to get some drinks. While in the kitchen, the front door opened, and Han booked it over to the entryway. There were only two people missing from the group, so you knew it had to be Lando and Chewie. Matt walked over to you with the opened drinks and asked if you wanted to go say hi. Telling him yes, you followed him to the entryway, finding the three friends in a big hug. Chewie was taller than you imagined, you pictured a man only a few inches taller than the triplets, but this man was probably pushing 7 feet, not the 6 and a half you were picturing. You couldn’t see much of Lando, but you could see parts of his clothes and knew he had a sense of style. No wonder the triplets dressed so well, having the influence of both Padmé and Lando they couldn’t possibly dress horribly. You began questioning yourself, but you knew that Matt helped pick out your outfit so you were able to stop the growing anxiety. The three friends broke their hug and noticed the two of you standing there.

Han introduced you, “(y/n), this is Lando and Chewie, my long time friends. Guys, this is (y/n), Matt’s future wife, currently his girlfriend.”

Lando stepped forward and held out his hand to you, “It is a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).”

You shook his hand, “It is nice to meet you, too, Lando.”

Chewie placed his hand on your shoulder and spoke with a voice deeper than the triplets, “You and Matt look like a great match, and from what I’ve been told, you are. Nice to meet you kid.”

The two greeted Matt before speaking with Han again, and you and Matt returned to the living room.

Almost to the living room Matt suddenly hollered out, “Hey Ky! Unca Wanwo is here!”

Over the laughter from the room, you could here Kylo yell out, “Hey Rey, cover your ears. Can you hear me? Okay, good. Fuck you Matty-kins! Alright Rey, you can uncover your ears.”

“I think I’m gonna need that story later, Matty.”

“It would bring me great pleasure to tell you.”

Returning to the living room, Kylo glared at Matt. You both sat down and conversation flowed, the three friends joined, and Leia popped in and out, getting help from Ben, Kylo, or Han when needed. You leaned the history behind the many last names, Padmé legally kept her maiden name, but socially went by Skywalker; Leia had the last name Skywalker until she was old enough to legally change it to her middle name, Organa, which was the last name of another family that was close to theirs and helped take care of the twins when Padmé got sick; and then most obvious, Han and Leia hyphenated their last name for the triplets, each keeping their name, but never correcting anybody if called Organa-Solo socially.

Eventually Leia came out and announced that dinner was ready and to help yourself to everything set out in the kitchen, then find a seat at the dining room table.

As everybody was migrating towards the kitchen, Rey ran up to you and tapped your arm, “Hey, (y/n), can I sit next to you at dinner? Matt can sit on your other side!”

“Oh of course Rey, I would love it if you sat next to me!”

She beamed up at you, and you smiled back. What you didn’t notice was everybody else giving Matt a knowing look, you were a perfect fit to the family and he better not lose you.

As you were serving up you food, and helping Rey reach the things set further back, Padmé pulled Matt aside.

“My darling Matty, I know this is really early, but I want to give you this. Your love is so pure, and she is such a beautiful sunflower, radiating light and happiness all around her, I want you to use my engagement ring to propose. Your parents eloped before I even knew they were in a serious relationship so I couldn’t give it to Han. I know you two are taking it slow, and it might be a couple years before it is used, but I wanted to give it to you now so you have it when the moment is right. I love you Matty, and you couldn’t have found the more perfect young lady.”

Matt teared up, “Thank you Grandma, this means so much to me. I’ll take good care of it until I use it, I promise. I love you too Grandma.”

“Now let’s get back and get some food before they notice we’ve disappeared.”

Once served, Matt took the seat on your left, since Rey chose the seat on your right. Everybody ate and carried on light conversation, but once everyone had their fill, you and Matt got put on the hot seat.

Lando began, “So I know the two of you met through school, but what’s the whole story?”

Matt nudged you with his foot to let you know you could tell the story, and so you began, “I was working on one of my final papers when my laptop got a virus. My best friend and roommate knew Matt worked with computers since they were in the same psych class and asked him the next class if he could help. He insisted that he could come over after class, and Ally decided to not give me advance warning and burst into our apartment screaming, waking me from a nap, and then she left a few minutes later for a date. He fixed my laptop, I took him to a small cafe by my building for dinner, and then paid for his meal as a thank you, much to his disliking. The only way he accepted was that I told him he could pay for our next dinner, which became our first date. After the date, Ally celebrated because apparently since the moment she saw Matt she knew we would work and had been trying to find an excuse to introduce us. And I’m glad she found it.”

“Ally what?! And now she thinks we’re sickeningly sweet.”

“Yeah, but that’s the way she is.”

“Alright. So anyways, yeah that is pretty much it. Mom helped me arrange the reservation for that dinner, and (y/n) was definitely surprised and awed by the restaurant.”

Rey gasped, “Are you guys like a fairy tale?”

You smiled, “I think we are. It sure feels like it.”

“That’s amazing. You’re a science princess and Matt is a science prince!”

Chewie joined in next, “Wait, nobody told me you were a science person, too. What are you going into?”

“I’m going to go into bio-chem and help research a cure for cancer in a lab.”

There was a bunch of positive murmurs around the table, and looking over at Rey, she was already looking at you in complete admiration. In that moment you knew this was the family for you, they all were taken away by your career path unlike your own family who, while supporting your decision, didn’t seem to believe it was a good choice or that you would actually help find a cure. You would hold on to them for as long as possible.

“That is truly amazing, (y/n). I can’t even fathom how smart you must be wanting to do that,” Chewie admired.

Before you could deny it, Matt jumped in, “She is the smartest person I have ever met. The way her mind works is amazing. She has such an analytical mind she could find connections between things you couldn’t possibly think could be connected. She can break any concept down into easy to understand language. She will deny it, but she is so smart.”

You just looked at him, his eyes and smile were filled with love and admiration, and you licked your thumb and smudged his glasses.

Matt gasped and pulled off his glasses to clean them, “What was that for?”

You giggled, “That was too sickeningly sweet for even me to handle.”

Everybody laughed at your exchange, and Ben reached across the table to give you a high five.

The rest of the evening was filled with delicious desserts and plenty of family stories you thoroughly enjoyed. You even got a few stories from Han, Chewie, and Lando’s adventures before meeting the Skywalkers.

You and Matt left the same time Luke and Rey did. The four of you said goodbye to everybody else, and walked to the front yard.

Rey tapped her dad, “Hey dad, can Matt drive me around the block in his car before we go?”

Luke looked at you and Matt and you both nodded, “Of course he can, sweetheart. I’ll stay here with (y/n), see you in a bit.”

Rey grabbed Matt’s hand and ran to his car, Matt barely keeping up with her.

As they drove off, Luke spoke, “I don’t know what it is about you, but Rey has never asked any of the boys’ girlfriends anything, she always just kind of glares at them, even when she was a toddler and asked everybody questions. I have a feeling you’re going to be somebody she looks up to, just like Matt, so hopefully you’ll be around for awhile.”

“I sure plan on being around for awhile. I don’t know how I got so lucky, an amazing boyfriend with an equally amazing family.”

“Well, we are all lucky to have you, too. Especially Matt. You’re both sweet kids, with amazing futures ahead of you. I wish you the best.”

Matt’s car pulled up while Luke was speaking so you both walked over, Rey jumping out with a huge smile on her face. She gave you a hug when everybody exchanged their final good nights.

As Matt drove off, he placed his hand on your leg, “My family really likes you, (y/n). They were all bugging me about when I was going to propose to you.”

You laughed, “I really like them too. And boy aren’t they eager, we are still undergrads.”

“That is just the way they are. They know it would be a while if it were to happen, but that doesn’t stop them from asking.”

“They definitely aren’t the most subtle.”

“Never.”

“I love you Matty. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I love you too, (y/n).”

The rest of the drive Matt took the time to tell you the story behind Unca Wanwo and at-at. Kylo was slower than the others getting pronunciations down as toddlers and so Unca Wanwo was all he could say, not Uncle Lando, and then both Ky and at-at were nicknames Leia came up with when they were newborns.

As always, Matt walked you to your apartment and kissed you goodnight, but this time was different knowing his family adored you and with the ring burning a hole in his pocket waiting to be used. He would use it eventually, he felt it in his soul, but it would be a while until it happened. Once back in his car he pulled out the ring and smiled thinking about you, and your possible reactions when he proposes, he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

Tags: (since I’m cool enough to have one now) @bellaren18 

A/N pt. 2: I have read a few fics recently with human Chewie in modern aus, and I felt like that would be a good fit for this story.

[mojave-tiger]

origami

The dress in Vivian's hands smelled strongly of closet, as did everything else folded haphazardly on the bed in front of her. Years of accumulated dust stained the shoulders, turning its off-white almost yellow. It had been pretty, once, with its simple floral pattern and a ribbon at the waist, but now it seemed as though disuse had made it a musty old hand-me-down.

And like a true hand-me-down, she remembered this one. Her mother had favored it for special occasions: social events, holidays, the rare date with their father. She could picture herself - half the height she was now - tugging at the skirt when her first plea of "Mommy" went unheeded.

Either way, it wasn't something that Vivian saw herself wearing. A few flicks of the wrist and it was added to the donate pile.

"Hey, Viv?"

"Yeah?" she asked without looking.

"What's this?"

She turned then to see her sister standing with something held gingerly between two fingers, their mother's apron draped over her other arm. She squinted and saw it was a piece of paper, precisely folded, like a note, or...

A strange vertigo washed over her as recognition dawned - that feeling one gets when the past collides too suddenly with the present.

"...Viv?"

Realizing she was staring, Vivian gave her head a little shake and moved past her to the closet, saying, "It's a bird. I made it for 'er." The next outfit in line was a simple white blouse. Also dusty, also slated for donation. She removed it from the hanger and brought it over to the bed.

"Oh." Penny turned it over in her hand. The bird was obvious once she knew to look for it. The creature had a long neck, a slim face, pointy tail, and broad, tapered wings. Her eyes returned to her sister. "I didn't know you could do this." Almost but not quite an accusation, as though wondering where her paper cranes were.

Vivian glanced at her over a shoulder as she folded the blouse, explaining, "I had a book that showed me how. It's probably still around somewhere." She concentrated on the garment in her hands. Held it by the shoulders and snapped it out. Refolded. Tried not to dwell on the fact that this meant the gift was in her mother's possession the day she died.

"Did she like birds?"

"I... guess?" Vivian pursed her lips, then shook her head at the throwaway response. "I mean, I think it was just the easiest one to make. There were others."

Another little, "Oh." Then, "...Can I keep it?"

She stared at her sister, thrown by the oddness of the request. When she refused to acknowledge its sentimental value, it was hardly more than trash.

"Sure."

She thought perhaps that would be the end of it, but before she could take a step towards the closet, Penny held the little thing nearer to her chest and asked, "What did she like?"

So Vivian's feet reluctantly settled back onto the hardwood floor. She released a resigned little exhale and flexed a hand as she considered the question with a journalist's objectivity more than a daughter's fondness.

"She liked..." It wasn't as simple to answer as she may have thought. She'd been young herself, the memories not crystal clear. "...She liked cat stuff. You know that painting in the den? That was hers. And the throw pillows on the couch." They were a matching set with black and white felines stitched on the front. They weren't very comfortable and mostly just seemed in the way but, as with the clothing, their father wasn't the type to bother with removing them. It wasn't sentiment, Vivian thought, but a... selective blindness.

She was the one who finally made the call that their mother's belongings had sat around long enough. It was past time for a spring cleaning, and Penny didn't hesitate to volunteer her services. After all, she was curious, in that way any child would be for a parent they had barely known. Between her clinical interest and Vivian's determination to treat this as a chore, they made a good team.

"Oh yeah," Penny said, as though some part of her had known all along. She set the crane down on a side table and brought the apron over to the bed, lifting it wordlessly for consideration. Vivian took it and let it hang from her own hands. There were a couple stains that had never been washed out, and its yellow dye was faded from use, but the apron was sturdy and well-made, the threads closely woven to resist tearing. It seemed unlikely anyone would want it, but maybe Penny would in her time; a new generation of fingers could wipe flour and other kitchen debris down the front. She added it to the smaller keep pile.

"Did she have a cat?"

"Pen, you know there aren't cats."

"Well, there might've been."

"Not here there ain't."

"What about the dogs? Did she like them?" came her next question, relentless. Vivian hummed as she tried to recall their relationship.

"They were more Dad's, you know? But... Lady took a shine to 'er. Ranger and Rocket's mom? She'd always lay in the kitchen when Mom made breakfast and dinner and stuff. Probably just begging but... they seemed to have an understanding." A faint smile tugged at a corner of her lips. As things went, it seemed that memory remained untainted.

When the silence stretched a second too long, she glanced over to find Penny's chin tucked, her eyes vacantly staring at the bed. Softly she asked, "Did... did she like me?" She punctuated the statement with those already big, doe eyes meeting hers, shining with unmistakable earnestness. She was asking because she really didn't know. For a moment Vivian couldn't breathe for the breaking of her heart.

"Pen," she exclaimed, and immediately wrapped her up in a crushing hug, pressing her sister's face into her shoulder. "She loved you so much. So, so much..." She spoke with a fierce certainty, voice already thick with emotion. Penny had unknowingly found the chink in her armor. Her simple words recalled every night spent crying herself to sleep, every time she'd had to ask herself the same, haunting question... but there was anger and protectiveness in her hold, too. A part of her mind snarling, teeth bared, Look what you've done to her.

Tears were streaming silently down her cheeks now, and Penny soon echoed her, a high-pitched whine preceding the flood. It set alarm bells ringing in Vivian's mind and she pulled back, looking down at that tear-stained face - more like their mother's than hers.

"She loved you, okay?" she repeated, trying to sound firm over the tightness in her throat. "You were enough. She was just... really sick, okay? She- she was sick and she didn't get the help she needed, so..."

This only seemed to summon fresh tears. Penny's lip quivered, her voice a loud squeak of paranoia. "What if I'm sick, too? What if I'm sick like Mom...?"

In answer Vivian held her tight once more, resting her cheek on braided hair, and gave the floor a wry look as she considered both her own stubborn streak and Penny's sweet, resilient nature. It was clear they chose life.

"Honestly, Pen? I think it skipped a generation. But-" She pulled back enough to meet her sister's eyes. "If you were sick like that, we'd get you help, okay? We'd never let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"

Her bottom lip trembled again, but after a beat she nodded.

Vivian brought her in again, holding her until Penny's breathing steadied and her shoulders started to relax.

When the hug had run its course, Vivian let her go in stages, her hands sliding down to Penny's arms as she tried to give her a smile. "Remember the bird? I think there were cats, or flowers, or something like that, too. We could make some and bring them to her, okay?" Just hearing her spoken of in the present tense sent another stream of tears sliding down Penny's cheeks, but she nodded agreement. It would be a nice gesture. Vivian nodded back. Like the closing of a chapter she breathed, "Okay."

With that decided, she gave her sister one last reassuring squeeze and a peck on the forehead before pulling away and making for the closet. A simple black dress was the obvious next choice. Taking it by the hanger in one hand and wiping her face with the other, her eyes slid over the low cut of the chest, the satin trim and long skirt. She held it in her hands, feeling the quality of the fabric. It had an ageless look about it - the kind of fashion that never really goes out of style. This one she would keep.

[betweenstories]

CHAPTER 11

Two hours later, we enter the Rose Center for Earth and Space. Lunch had been wonderful. The food had been delicious, and a post-smoke break Jollie had turned out to be a real sweetheart.

As we take our seats in the back row of the Hayden Planetarium, I wrap my arms around myself and rub my biceps for warmth.

“I’m glad we picked up our coats first. This place is freezing.”

You smile and shake your head, always amused by my “southern blood.”

“What was that with you and the woman at coat check?”

I get excited. Turning toward you, I tuck my feet underneath my bottom.

“Did you see her name tag? No? Her name was !khas.”

When I make the consonant tongue pop sound, several heads in the rows in front of us turn around in unison.

Immediately, I turn to you with a look of censure, press my forefinger to my lips, and give you an exaggerated shhh.

One corner of your mouth quirks. You dip your head toward the people and toss up a hand in apology. I lean in and kiss your cheek. My hero.

“I’ve only seen that alveolar click on a name tag one other time, and that gentleman was a native African.”

The woman at coat check had spoken English with no accent and she’d looked like Mrs. Claus.

As I sit and lament not asking !khas the story behind her name (there’d been people behind us and I hadn’t wanted to hold up the line), you reach into your coat pocket and pull out a small black gift bag.

“Happy Birthday, love.”

You kiss my cheek.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

Something about your expression gives me pause, but I untie the gold ribbon, reach down past the gold tissue paper...

Eyes stretching wide, I freeze. I’d thought my face couldn’t get any hotter than when the woman had stared at us from the store window. I’d been wrong. Your smile is wicked. You are wicked! I close the bag and quickly stuff it into my purse. I can’t even look at you.

When I speak again, my tone is incredulous.

“You had that in your pocket? This whole time? In the coat you checked? What if someone had looked inside?”

A horrifying thought occurs.

“How’d you make it through the metal detector anyway?”

My eyes go wide. Will I have to pass the metal detector on the way out?

Earlier in the week, I’d wanted to visit a “big city” adult toy store, so we’d headed down to the Museum of Sex on Fifth Avenue. I’d visited the toy store in my own town, but this place had been altogether next level. I hadn’t even recognized some of the products on display. When I’d read the bulletin board promoting their Saturday workshops: Shibari Rope Bondage, Erotic Photography, Strap-On Techniques for Beginners, I’d stared in shocked, open-mouthed wonder.

I’d wanted to buy something though, a souvenir if you will, so I’d been on the hunt for something relatively tame in case airport security decided to search my bag. I’d ended up at a display of bachelorette party supplies. There’d been penis shaped paraphernalia, wine accessories, and even some penis shaped wine accessories. I’d gravitated toward the wine accessories.

Though I’d never actually used one for storing wine, I’d settled on a stainless steel wine stopper with a sparkling aquamarine on top. When I’d found you one aisle over perusing items that’d had me raising a brow, I’d held up the wine stopper and said,

“I like this one with the blue crystal. Whaddayathink?”

You’d narrowed your eyes on the item and then on my face. With a hearty laugh, you’d asked,

“For you or for me?”

If you’d wanted a wine stopper, I would’ve been happy to buy you one, so I’d said,

“You can have this one if you want. It’s the only one I see that’ll fit a standard opening. All the rest look way too big.”

When the woman shopping a few feet away had stifled a laugh, I’d known for sure I’d made a significant error. Turning on my heel, I’d marched back to the bachelorette party section where I’d been mortified to discover I’d drifted from wine accessories into the anal section.

After gently placing the plug back on its display stand, I’d stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked over to quietly inform you I’d be waiting on the bench outside. At least now I knew what’d been inside the bag when you’d exited the store ten minutes later.

While you grin at me, I purse my lips. “You’re enjoying this. Aren’t you.”

You nod your head. “Immensely. I still can’t believe you didn’t know. What were you thinking?”

I face forward when I answer. “It was directly beside a display with those jewellery rings people supposedly put on wine glasses. You know those little charms you hook around a stem to identify your glass that no one’s seen anyone use ever.”

“Are you sure they were wine charms?”

I frown.

“What else could they be.”

You open your mouth then close it. I see the mischief in your eyes, see the little dimple pop when you smile. You open your mouth again, but then shake your head.

“I’m sure you’re right. They must’ve been wine charms.”

Your smile tells me you think different, but I let it go for the moment. I grow animated again.

“I was thinking about large format wine bottles. You know, the ones with cool names like Salamanzer and Jeraboam. I hadn’t even known they made stoppers for bottles that big.”

Pique completely forgotten, I smile as I chatter on. “I was thinking, Wow! New York is sooo sophisticated to stock Nebuchadnezzar stoppers. I had Nebuchadnezzar bottles of champagne at my wedding. They hold 15 litres, if I remember correctly. I have no idea how many regular bottles that is. Maybe 20? I’ll look it up later.

Did you know Pol Roger made a bottle specifically for Winston Churchill that became known as—oddly enough—‘the Winston Churchill?’ It held twenty ounces of champagne which was deemed the perfect amount for the PM in the morning.”

I giggle. PM in the morning.

You blink. I sit back and press my lips together. The more time we spend together, the more comfortable I get and the more I seem to rattle on about anything. I shrug, sheepish.

“Sorry. I guess I’m just excited about In-between Day.”

You smile and surprise me when you ask, “What was the other name?”

I beam at you. The value of a good listener cannot be overstated. Another thing I like about talking to you? Loose threads always weave seamlessly back into the fabric of our conversations.

“The name !guru belonged to a former anaesthesiologist from Namibia who was working the photo counter at Costco.”

CHAPTER 12

As we wait for the show to begin, I sit back and think about the item tucked inside my purse. Was it intended to be a gag gift or .... a functional one?

When I glance at you, I remember the section of the store you’d been perusing when I’d shown you the “stopper.” I hadn’t had time to study any of the individual items on your aisle, but it seemed the general theme might’ve been bondage or spanking or something. I knew I’d seen leather paddles at any rate.

The devil on my shoulder immediately starts talking smack. I try to shush the demon, try to quell the impulse; but ultimately, I can’t resist.

Leaning over the arm rest, I cup a hand behind your ear, and whisper, “I think giving me that gift here was very naughty of you. I think you’ve been a very, very bad boy and you should be punished accordingly.”

You shift in your seat, run your palms down your denim covered thighs. When you shift your weight to lean a little closer in my direction, I’m emboldened.

“Maybe you need a good spanking? What do you think? Should I put you over my knee?”

You groan low. I glance down to see you adjust yourself. Due North again.

Rearranging the jacket in your lap, I slide my hand underneath and grip you tight.

“Or maybe you’ve been too loud in the university library? Maybe your punishment should come from a stern librarian?

If I were your librarian, I’d wear my tightest pencil skirt, back seamed Cuban heel stockings, high collared white blouse, and maybe a pair of dark framed glasses. Hmm... Should I wear my hair loose or in a tight bun?”

I nip your earlobe as I slide my hand lower to cup and squeeze.

“Should I make you push your pants down to your ankles and bend over my desk while I go find my paddle? Make you wait like that, bent over in your underwear as your classmates stare in wide-eyed anticipation?

I’d stand behind you and stare at your bottom, stare at all the bits barely covered by thin white cotton while I tapped my deep red nail against my deep red lips. I’d make you spread your legs wide while I circled my desk, while I contemplated. Decisions. Decisions. Should I use the wood paddle .... or the leather?”

You turn your head and kiss my neck, score my skin with your teeth. I shiver when I feel your hot tongue. Squeezing the hard outline encased inside your jeans, I move my hand up and down, long and lazy from base to tip. I slow my words to match my strokes.

“Or maybe I should make you come back after class so I can give you all the discipline you so clearly need? I’d make you take off your pants and your underwear and stand there wearing nothing but your shirt and socks.

I’d make you stand and wait, cool air on your private parts. I’d give you plenty of time to think about just how naughty you’ve been.

Once I’d decided on a paddle, I’d slowly unbutton my blouse, and then unzip my skirt. I couldn’t have you wrinkling my clothes now could I? Which punishment do you deserve? Hm? In front of your classmates? Or in my office after school?”

At some point in this little game I’ve gotten nervous that maybe I’ve gone too far. I lean back a little so I can see your face. Your eyes are round, pupils blown. I pull my hand back and stare at your massive erection. Liquid heat pools low just as the theatre lights go down.

CHAPTER 13

You whisper at my ear.

“I deserve the second option. Definitely option number two.”

Leaning in my direction, you position your ear close to my mouth as if to say continue.

I swallow hard, unprepared. I have no idea what might actually be a turn-on in this scenario. I knew I should’ve Googled “erotic spanking” the moment we’d returned from the toy store. Searching my mind, I inventory what I know about the topic.

I’d seen a couple of video previews when I’d quasi-investigated porn. I remember one with three women doing things to one man, spanking him with a paddle being one among several interesting activities. I hadn’t minded the activities; I just hadn’t cared for the dialogue.

Not wanting those images in my head, I’d simply left those links alone. I think through the little bit I had seen. Degradation and humiliation: definitely not for me. Making you squirm during a little role play? Well, I do like to dress up.

Just for kicks, I run the idea through my mind from the opposite angle aaaand ...

Nope. Absolutely nothing.

I have no interest in being spanked myself. Years ago I’d worn a smaller bikini on a boat outing and gotten a sunburn on the newly exposed skin. That night, my bottom had been on fire, so I’d rubbed on some aloe and laid on my stomach on the couch. I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I’d known was pain. I’d jumped up to see my husband standing there with my paddle hair brush in hand.

Let’s just say this did not turn me on in the slightest. I believe I’d said something to the effect that if he ever struck me again, he could count on me to hit him back and ten times harder.

So, with next to no information in my archives, I guess I’d be winging this. Taking a deep breath, I lean close to your ear and let my imagination run wild.

CHAPTER 14

“When I see you standing outside my office after school, I give you a stern look and usher you inside. The click sounds loud when I shut the door. Drawing the shade over the interior glass window, I turn to you, arms folded over my chest.

‘You’ve been a very naughty boy, very disrespectful. What shall we do about it? Hm?’

Filled with remorse, you stare down at your shoes.

‘Place your books on the table over there and bring me that wooden paddle.’

I motion to a round paddle hanging by a strip of leather from a peg on the wall. You do as instructed and again, stare down at the floor. As a first year librarian, I’m a similar age to many of the students, and some of the faculty think because I’m American, I must be fundamentally rebellious. If I wish to be respected, it’s imperative I enforce strict discipline. I’ll need to be extra tough on you today. I look you up and down.

Yes, we might be close in age, and under different circumstances I might even be attracted to you; but my primary responsibility is to the library, and the rules must be followed.

When I shift my weight to one leg, and tap my black patent leather heel, the noise echoes loud against the bare wood floor.

‘You knew talking wasn’t allowed in that section of the library. Didn’t you? You’ve been very naughty, indeed. When you break the rules, you must face the consequences. Now take off your pants, underwear too. And please don’t dally. I have a tutoring session scheduled to start soon.’”

I’m so caught up in my own story, it barely registers when you unwind my Burberry scarf, curl an arm around my shoulders, and drape the scarf over my chest. I’m warmed by the sentiment as much as your body heat, but then I frown when I feel your fingers working the wooden buttons on the shoulder of my sweater dress.

Beneath the scarf, you peel down one side of my dress and lean in to whisper, “Been wanting to do that all day.”

I feel more movement, but I can’t tell what you’re doing. You reach for my hand, slide it under your jacket and press my palm directly between your legs. My eyes go wide when I feel hot, bare skin. Surely you can’t mean to... here? I should pull my hand away. I should. But the sensation of soft skin over hard steel feels too good.

I nibble my bottom lip and glance around the dark theater. The show hasn’t started yet. Stragglers take their seats, but the three rows in front us are still empty. Decision made, I give a long, experimental stroke. And then another.

Just when I’ve worked into a slow, steady rhythm, Neil deGrasse Tyson’s recorded voice booms in surround sound, “Get ready for the Big Bang!” I barely stifle a giggle.

CHAPTER 15

“Do you make me bend over your lap or the desk?”

Good question. I brush my lips against your ear.

“Once I’ve cleared off my desk, I grab my cosmetics bag and hop up to sit on top. While you stand and wait, erect and half-naked, I take my time reapplying my red lipstick. I check my eye makeup and rub lotion on my hands and wrists. Since it’s grown stuffy in my office, I open the top two buttons of my blouse. I touch perfume behind my ears and between my cleavage.

When I lean forward, I catch you staring at my black lace bra and my signature strand of pearls. I stand, fold my arms, and turn my back to you.

Though the number of paddle strokes has yet to be determined, I say, ‘I saw you looking down my blouse. For the additional disrespect, you’ve earned five more strokes with the paddle.’

When I glance at your reflection in the glass of a picture frame, I’m almost certain I see a look of jubilation; but when I quickly turn around, you’re staring at the floor looking forlorn. I narrow my eyes and return to the front of my desk to sit. When I hop up again and cross my legs, your eyes are fixed on my shoe, on the pointed toe that bobs a mere inch from the tip of your erect penis. Arms folded, I slowly look you up and down.

‘Take off your shirt as well, please. I can’t have you getting all wrinkled.’

You do as instructed, then return to stand in your previous spot wearing only your socks. I zero in on the bead of moisture clinging to your tip. After turning to grab a tissue, I glide off the desk and lean down for a close inspection. My warm breaths skate over your taut skin.

After I’ve examined you from every angle, I make a tsk! sound. ‘I can’t have you making a mess in my office either.’

I dab at your tip, feather-light. I barely touch your skin. After tossing away the tissue, I stalk a circle around you. The clock on the wall ticks loud. I tap my lips as I stare at your penis, your narrow hips, and your bare bottom. ‘I’m trying to decide whether I should spank you over my desk, or if I should bend you over my knee. Have you ever been spanked before? And don’t lie because I’ll know.’

Just then, my office door swings open. One of your classmates walks in.

‘I’m here for tutoring, Ms....’

Her words trail off when she sees you standing there in only your socks, painfully erect. She starts to slowly back out the door.

‘It’s okay, Julie. You can stay. Come in and have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment. I was just asking your friend if he’d ever been spanked.

[nitelotus]

Sanctuary

It was supposed to be another ordinary night. Annie chuckled. Ever since she opened Sanctuary, her club 5 years ago, nothing has ever been ordinary. Well, not this particular bar. Sometimes she did wish for the ordinary. Opening up, the usual bar fights in the middle of the shift and closing down to only open for the next night. But working for a large company as an executive assistant has given Annie all the lifetime of ordinary she can take. 

So what makes her bar different from just the normal dive that one goes too? I'ts a neutral zone for vampires and humans. Where both specie could mingle without fear of retaliation. Well, that was the ideal anyways. Annie could not even remember how it came to be. But when everything was said and done, she had struck a deal with the vampires’ current leader in Tokyo. It was never really advertised to the humans about the existence of the vampires. It was something in the works. Besides, most of the humans who go there only get to come in because of an invite. For tonight, Annie stuck to her usual robe. Denims and a sleveless black top. The silver dragon choker glittered on her neck. It made managing much more easier. She wasn’t really all for the frills. Comfort and efficiency was what mattered in running a club. “Hi, boss,” someone greeted behind her. Even before she could react, Annie was hugged from behind.

“Mike!” Annie glowered. Mike was her head chief of security in the bar. As was usual garb of her security, he was also dressed in denim like hers but with a black button down shirt. It was toned down but still classy. Mike wore his dragon pendant and his hair slicked back. It was also in the hush that they were dating. Annie didn’t like mixing pleasure with business but so far, Mike kept his promise. He was always professional at work but a fabulous lover during off work. For just a second, Annie itched to run her fingers through his carefully manicured hair. He released her as soon as Annie gave him the “I-am-the-boss-look”. Mike gave her one of his killer smiles to diffuse her. Which Annie knew it work. “Are we ready for tonight?” He glanced at his clipboard. “Ready as we can be.” Thunder could be heard from a distance. Annie loved stormy weather. But in her lifetime, stormy weather also brought with it some surprises. She shivered but tried not to psyche herself out. “We have a new employee coming in tonight. Tali will handle her.” Mike nodded in assent. “If there’s nothing else, let’s open this place.”

That night the bar was packed. Bodies were everywhere dancing to the awesome beats that the DJ was playing. The DJ that Chinnen has been searching for years. He was worried he would not fit in this club. His usual attire was a suit plus a trench coat. But to wear that to this venue would certainly make him look suspicious. So he opted for a white collared shirt and frayed denim with sneakers. Chinnen observed her from a distance. A dragon tattoo, not sure if it was permanent, snaked around her left arm. Emma wore a golden yellow sequined top with skinny pleather slacks. Her chucks finished her ensemble. Finally his labors paid off and he found her. Not that she was hiding. Emma disappeared from her parent’s house in the US and the last picture they provided him was of a sweet little girl. Her parents were both entrepreneurs that gave a lot of funding for this expedition. Chinnen guessed that probably being the only daughter from such respectable parents came with certain expectations and responsibilities. Instead of facing them, Emma chose to run away. All the way to Tokyo. But the search ended tonight. He made his way to the bar where two ladies were manning it. “What ya having?” one of them asked. From his research, the woman who just asked for his order was named Tali. She wore a grey tank top and jeans with spiked black boots. The other woman was Chri. She differed from her partner with the style of her clothing. It was the same color of gray but it was a halter top and open at the back. Her slacks were loose paired with strappy gladiator sandals. Both women wore silver dragon pendants on their neck. “Rum and coke please.” As Tali processed his order, she asked, “You’re not from around here, are ya?” She put his glass in front of him. “3.60,” not waiting for his reply. Chinnen set the money in front of him. “So what time does she get off?” He nodded towards Emma. Tali shrugged. She was always wary of strangers asking questions. “You have to ask her.” Chri nudged Tali. “He’s here!” she giggled excitedly. Chinnen turned his head sideways as two men approached the bar. “Hi, Pi! Thanks for your hard work today!” Chri greeted the man with the blonde hair. The man named Pi reached over and affectionately pinched Chri’s cheek in greeting. Chri and Pi actually met on one of his shooting locations. Chri wasn’t an extra but was a help on the set. She wasn’t part of the crew since it was only one of her many side jobs. Even though Pi was an idol, Chri acted normally around him. Annie was also pretty selective of her guests. Besides Koyama which he gained permission for, there was not a lot of his idol friends that were aware of this bar. Pi was able to relax without fear of being exposed to media and nobody seem to notice him in this bar which sometimes disturbed him. “Hi, Ms. Tali. You look nice today,” Koyama greeted. Tali gave him a cursory look. Pi always looked fashionable with his black fedora hat, v-neck white shirts and jeans. Koyama was a bit more formal with a plain white tshirt inside a red plaid on top plus brown slacks. Both of them wore sneakers. He seemed unsure of himself. Chinnen soon understood why. Tali arched one eyebrow. “Just today then?” Koyama sputtered his excuses. Tali just laughed. “You are way too easy Koyama. Way too easy.” Chri joined in the laughter as Pi elbowed Koyama on being teased by a girl. Chri wanted someone for Tali since she considered her as her best friend and wanted her to be happy. Plus it was awkward when Tali was the third wheel. Chri liked timid Koyama but wondered if he could match Tali’s outgoing nature. It took months for Tali to even say a couple of words to Koyama, let alone acknowledge him in any way. Well, there was no rush. She figured they would both find their own groove. “Girls, you are still working. Save the flirting for later,” Annie chastised. She then gave a nod toward Pi and Koyama. “And you better not disturb my girls. At least go order something and make a profit for me!” Annie took a second glance at the man at Koyama’s right. “Your new friend?” Before Chinnen could reply, something caught Annie’s attention as she disappeared into the crowd.

They simply could not get enough of each other. It did not help that the photoshoot was for a lingerie advertisement. Ikuta Toma and Lillith were both models in the human world. But both of them had two secrets that they both shared. They both have a taste for blood and their relationship was a secret to the human world. Outside Sanctuary, they were both the most sought out male and female model. But due to their nature, both have mutually agreed not to see each other in public. Everyone speculated, of course.

Lillith pressed herself closer to him in that dimly lit corridor. It was a good idea to wear that skirt tonight. Her dark blue corset hugged her torso. The high slitted silver gray skirt with the electric blue high heeled shoes finished her outfit for the club. Toma on the other hand wore stripped slacks with a black vest that held a white button shirt rolled up to his elbows. He was created during the roaring 60’s and missed his mobster days. The base from the thumping music at the main hall reverberated through the walls and corridors. She anchored herself to his hip with her left leg. Toma dropped a soft kiss on his lover’s neck. “Have you heard all those silly talk behind our back?” she asked as a soft chuckle escaped her lips. It was a hypothetical question. Both of them has excellent hearing due to their vampire nature. Toma raised a hand to slowly caress her exposed leg. “Yes, sweeting. But you shouldn’t humor them too much.” Earlier in the photoshoot, Lillith tried to pick a fight with him. It scared the staff for a bit but he calmed her down eventually to finish the job. “You are such a diva, Lillith!” Toma teased. She only answered him with a laugh. Somebody cleared his throat. Toma immediately released Lillith from his hold but just enough to situate her by his side as they faced the owner of the voice. “My liege,” Toma greeted and bowed. Matsumoto Jun held out his hand with the ring that had the ancestral vampire family crest. The symbol of his power. Even over his brother. Toma kissed the hand. “My liege,” Lillith followed suit, curtseying while kissing Jun’s hand. “You really both should get a room,” Jun said derisively as Lillith finished greeting him. “Why should they? They already have to hide their love from prying eyes, let them be open here at least,” someone argued. Nobody can disagree with their liege except for one person. Her name was Selina. She was Jun’s lifemate and she was still human. Selina stepped out from the shadows. As natural as breathing, Jun gathered her close to his side with one of his arms and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. The pair looked stunning. Only Matsumoto Jun would be able to pull off dark violet velvet shirt paired with nicely pressed black slacks. It had been awhile since he cut his hair. It was past his shoulder and curled at the ends. He kept it tidy with a black satin ribbon. Selina was entirely opposite from his dark, imposing garb. Her haircut was pixie short. She wore a kimono sleeve white satin blouse that had lotus flowers print. It was completed with bright red skinny jeans and kitten heels. “My lady,” both Toma and Lillith greeted. “Oh hush. No need to be so formal with me,” Selina replied with a smile. She nodded at Toma but hugged Lillith. Selina would have done the same with Toma but she learned real fast that giving hugs to the male specie brought out the possessive side of her mate. “Selina, what did I tell you about disagreeing with me in front of my subjects?” Jun teased. He liked being playful with her. She pinched him on his side. “Don’t call them your subjects, dear! Toma is your younger brother and Lilli is his mate. They are your family, right?” She turned towards them for support. Toma and Lillith just embarrassedly agreed. Before, they were skeptical of a human being their liege’s mate. What could a human do to be a partner to one of the vampire race’s most powerful leaders? They were not deserving. Humans were just food. But with her own determination and Jun’s support, they were proven wrong. It still worried them that Selina would not agree to be turned and decided to keep her humanity. With her by their liege’s side, Jun has become gentler along with rising to more power. He ruled more efficiently and yet, with mercy. They both adored and loved Selina for that. Toma refused to even think what would happen if anything happened to her. At that point, Annie arrived to find the two couples along the corridor. She acknowledged Jun with Selina. “Same room then?” Jun usually had a conversation with her prior to their departure from her club from the wee hours. Annie understood he was pretty up there in terms of authority in his specie that he really was in no obligation to touch base with her. It was all because of the woman beside him. Annie wouldn’t even have considered the idea for her club until Selina approached her. “Thank you, Annie,” she responded as Annie coordinated with someone to prepare their room.

Jun cannot keep his eyes off his mate, the love of his life as she joked with his younger brother and his mate. Never in his life has he encountered anyone like her. Selina was no hysterical female but she was not naive either. He could clearly remember meeting her at that fundraiser that she managed all in her own. Orphaned at a very young age, Selina grew up in the tough streets. Fortunately because of the right set of foster parents, she turned out alright. Now she manages a foster center for troubled teens and established a safe house for troubled vampires. He really admired her generous nature. Jun was enchanted when he first met her in that fundraiser. She solicited his aid seriously but immediately rebuffed his advances when he asked for her price. Then that one fateful night, Selina got attacked by one of his own. But instead of demanding answers from him, she calmly listened to his explanation. After that, he invited her out to dinner. Selina was his perfect match, looks and character-wise. “I’m just going to say hi to the ladies at the bar,” Selina said as she stood up from his side. Instantly, Jun felt bereft without her presence beside him, even if it was just for a second. “Lillith, go with her. “ “Oh hush, Jun. I’ll be fine. No need for Lillith to come,” Selina chided. She knew how protective he was of her ever since that one attack. Not everyone welcomed her presence in his world. He made sure that there was someone he trusted always with her. It did not help her reputation that she refused his “gift”. Lillith still could not believe that a mere mortal could joke this easy with his liege. She had never seen his liege this content or happy. She glanced at Toma, her own mate. It was a miracle itself to be bonded to another being. If Selina made his liege happy, then Lillith along with Toma and the rest of the race will make sure it remained that way. “We both need a refill anyways. Let me come with you, Mistress.” Lillith gathered Toma’s glass and hers and followed Selina down to the first floor. “Don’t call me Mistress!” Selina pouted. “I feel old!” Lillith laughed. “Not older than me, I bet!” Jun smiled once more that night. It was indeed a miracle that he did not have to go through eternity without her. Maybe it was her humanity he envied the most. He wished that he could convince her to live that eternity with him. Jun would be given that chance tonight. Emma had just taken a break and joined the girls at the bar. They were discussing some sort of party for Toma’s birthday. No one could anticipate the explosion that started from one of the exits in the room. Selina’s laughter was the last thing Jun heard before all chaos broke loose.