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hyuneytoast · 3 years

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Hearts of Roses || Scene 2

⇢𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 》 “Don’t forget about the thorns.”

In which you stumble upon Wonderland and the Prince of Hearts. How you end up in Wonderland is something explained as complete nonsense, but also quite simple; Just a key and a door. What if it’s not easy to return from Wonderland, though? A locked door and a lost key; now surely that’s not so bad if it weren’t for the Queen of Hearts’ threatening intentions.

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 》 Prince of Hearts!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader, Fantasy AU, Alice in Wonderland AU, Stranger to Lovers, Fluff, Slight Angst

⇢𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 》 Explicit language

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 》(Let me know if you want to be added!)

@danyxthirstae01 @sailorhyunjinz @rapilne @peachy-maia @hyunj1nn133

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 || 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 || 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽

II.

You stumble pass the door, feet being met with, in a way, familiar grounds. Once again, towering mushrooms and a dense forest greet you. The sunlight filters through the canopy and casts itself messily around. You let your skin soak the soft warmth as you stand there for a good solitary minute. Were you really returning? Should you continue to be here? You have no clue, but you can confirm that Wonderland and the people you’ve met have never once left your mind. A good excuse for your terrible lack of sleep last night too. It’d be a shame too if you weren’t to show up when Hyunjin asked you to with evident hope, right?

“Returning, I see? Seems like Wonderland has turned you into a madly, vulnerable fool now,” An unforgettable voice laughs in amusement. Your eyes scan each branch in search of the cat-like acquaintance.

“I’m not always in a tree, you know. I’m over here~”

In front, a grinning figure slowly appears in front of you, now sitting upon the grass. And hell, even considering the magical hole you dug yourself into, you doubt you’d ever get used to his “tricks.”

“Hello again, Minho.”

“I’ve been expecting you in the back of my head.”

“You’d know I come back?”

“Of course! I was watching your goodbyes last night ’til I spent this morning in dread, listening to two idiots speak about you.” Minho crosses his arms against the back of his head while falling slowly aback, laying in the green.

“Who?”

“That’s not important; your life does not depend on knowing so therefore I have no need to tell. But I do must say, one of those idiots are waiting for you. Ah yes, our dear prince is disgustingly waiting for you with heartening patience,” He frowns with closed eyes, faking a gag.

“O-oh. Well—”

“If you desire to be pathetic like him, I suggest you begin wandering off at this very second in the opposite way.”

The cat boy and his irritating habits of interrupting and insisting you to leave makes you let out a low, hopeless sigh. “Now? I still don’t know my way around or where exactly to go. I don’t think wandering around aimlessly is… the wisest decision either.”

“Now surely you didn’t fully think that thought yesterday, did you? If I remember clearly, you left with a smile. Besides, reasons like that, Y/N, make everything more fun! Surprises here and surprises there!” Minho cackles before is resting figure vanishes out of sight.

You frantically look around, but all fails when you find yourself permanently alone once again. “Whatever,” You grumble.

And just like that, your feet move aimlessly in an unknown direction, the opposite of where you went with the dark rabbit, Changbin, yesterday. Wandering and wandering, and deeper in the forest you go; no sense of direction but surely a sight of wonders. Once you get a taste of something, you go back for more. That is very much like your current situation. Not like you actually have a choice though since you have no clue of how to get back on your own.

Tickling below your knees, the breeze creates a rhythm having the tall grass swaying back and forth and your hair gently dancing along too. Incredibly huge butterflies prance along, wings glistening like the day’s sky. You admire the mushrooms from enormous to tiny. Perhaps you poke some of their squishy caps too, smiling to yourself at the fun feeling and aspect. Is it wrong to say that in an unknown somewhere full of mysterious madness, your soul still manages to be put at ease? Maybe it’s the magical atmosphere, or the forest’s serenity that you could never experience in the city. Perhaps it’s both that isn’t so wrong either. An escape from a harsh world; such an opportunity practically pleads you to blissfully wander day by day.

Against the lush green and patches of dirt, a trail of bright red splatters and puddles trail ahead to the left. Appearing to be too colorfully reflective to be considered blood, thoughts immediately recall last night’s encounter with the prince. Red paint! Your feet reroute you along the crimson trail. Curiosity taking over each inch, not to mention, the doubts of possible dangers awaiting at the end. You hear a cheery hum as you walk around a huge bush of roses; similar to last night’s but wilder, more lush. Your eyes meet with a familiar individual that just may have made your heart skip a beat without a warning.

“Y-Y/N?” Hyunjin marvels, mentally sighing in joyous relief.

“Hi, Hyunjin.” If Minho were here, he’d certainly wouldn’t hesitate to mock, or maybe even smack, the grin upon your face.

“Oh how brightly I am shocked to see you have returned very much sooner before my eyes than I have expected,” The boy rambles with a smile he can’t hold back, fumbling to settle the red-dipped paintbrush and palette on top a giant, flat stone.

“Yes, it seems that yesterday was more than enough to convince me,” You respond rather sheepishly.

“Quite happy to hear that as much as I now know I can keep my promise. Now, um, kindly, asking, may I?” Despite the nervousness mixed in with his soft tone, Hyunjin eagerly holds his hand out (which you notice is decked with a few silver rings), but still patiently waiting for a response.

You nod, placing your hand in his large one, cold skin sheltering yours. He gently tugs you around the stone and tall rose bush, revealing a part of the forest containing the most mushrooms you have seen so far.

“What about your paint?”

“That, my dear, can surely wait longer than all of us in Wonderland combined. Besides, you mean far more than all my replaceable paint.” He flashes you a smile while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Now when was the last time you felt like… this? Felt like whatever this is that you’re feeling. Your words stuck in your throat and all confidence shying away; A desire to bury your heated face in the comfort of your blankets along with tying your hand with Hyunjin’s, never wanting to let go of such simple yet heart bursting touch. Oh god, Y/N, calm down—

“Y/N?! And our dear prince, Hyunjin? Why, what ever are you doing here?”

The two of you snap your gazes to the ringing voice on your right, a red-haired male standing under tall mushrooms with a covered basket in hand. He cocks his head to the side, giving off a few rushed blinks.

“Bang Chan, lovely you meet you once again.”

“Likewise, Y/N!” He flashes you a grin and a small wave.

“Ah, my dear friend! You have caught us as I was making my way to reveal Y/N the garden!”

“The garden? Oh, the garden! Yes! What a sight to behold once you get there, like a rainbow palace that makes me promise you won’t regret the adventure!” Chan gives a small clap before waving his basket. “Not a similar treat, but I was on my way to deliver a few things to Felix.”

“Felix?” You question the slightly familiar name, but you can’t recall encountering him yesterday’s tea party.

“Yes, Felix!” Chan chimes as if he was just asked one of the most precious questions. “He’s one of the most beloved bakers in Wonderland, role done at the castle’s kitchen. A dear friend to many as well, hard not to be friends with him if I must say.”

“Yes, yes, but let’s not forget about me,” slightly whines Hyunjin. “And correction, hard for you to not be friends with everyone. We’ll visit Felix and I’ll make sure you meet him, Y/N. But that shall be for another day when the sun hangs as now, we mustn’t waste any more time. Farewell, Chan!” Still holding your hand, he tugs you forward to where you previously left off.

“I’ll be sure to see you again, Chan!” You glance over your shoulder, giving him a bright face.

“Farewell!”

Small conversations fill up the time that’s basking under the tattered sunlight, feet now walking on a stone trail where the forest seems to set clear into a field. Who knew venturing to a garden could grant so much little details about a person? The two of you would exchange questions that were yearning to be answered. He’d ask you about the different opportunities in your world to your favorite things, like flowers and colors. You’d ask the same, along with your curiosities of his royal heir. Turns out, he’s the next in line for the throne and his favorite color is red. Turns out, he dreams of someday owning a dog.

Little things like that.

“I’m assuming this is it?” Stopped in the tracks, you stand before a stone archway supporting dark wooden doors with black iron handles. Green vines ravel around the tall arch and stone walls, small pink blossoms appearing every here and there.

Hyunjin releases your hand, clapping joyously with crescent eyes. “Yes, we have most certainly arrived!” He steps forward, pulling the door out and gesturing towards the opening. “After you, my lady!”

“Thank you!”

You make your way pass the entrance, now entering a world splashed with even more vibrant colors. Blossoming trees stand tall, small shrubs dotted with warm-colored flowers, and bushes branching high wrapped in every color a garden could possibly hold. Few smooth stone benches are neatly placed throughout and behind the stone trail that’s willing to take your around the base of the garden, willing to show you as much as Hyunjin is. Intaking even further little wonders: The small bright caterpillars resting on leaves, red birds chirping their melody, sapphire-blue butterflies visiting, and flowers consisting of either loosely flared petals or neatly compact ones. Even the gentle breeze puffing through makes the garden more alive as it slowly sways.

The sight alone leaves you breathless. Leaves you breathless as it should for being such a lush garden you’ve never thought you’d ever see. Like one that jumped out of a fairytale book. Like one that has been experiencing an everlasting season of Spring.

One step after another and many more. A reaching hand, pointing out to a branch holding small white flowers, petals in a formation of a star.

“I insist you smell this one, it’s one of my favorite scents.”

Fingers gently wrapping around the branch, you pull it slightly down in your face, nose up against the blossom that it tickles your skin. The scent is soft, but still rich in a sensual sweetness. With a helpless smile, you turn to Hyunjin’s face which is rather quite closer than you recall, catching you a bit off guard but still leaving you to maintain composure.

“I see why it’s one of your favorites, it smells very pleasant.”

“Indeed.” His hot breath is felt against your skin, brown twinkling eyes adoring into yours, but only to be pulled away as a hysterical laugh booms from outside the walls.

“Fucking hell,” Mutters Hyunjin who has nothing but disappointment plastered upon his face. “Why must the world be so cruel when all I want is to show you peacefully around.”

“It’s okay, I certainly don’t mind. Unexpected company or not, I am without a doubt enjoying myself here,” You assure the boy, lightly patting his shoulder.

The dark doors open with a small creak, the iron handle given a clinking sound. The garden is now accompanied by three, the extra uninvited guest standing and peering at the two of you, face offering no emotion. The man’s finger scratches the side of his head of disheveled black hair. He stands tall, wearing what seems to be a spade card of seven draped over a black attire.

“Your majesty, I kindly expect to be informed about this situation here,” The stranger speaks huskily, face remaining still as stone.

“I assure you not to worry. I am spending the day with a very good friend of mine, nothing in the absurd. Now, what has had you sent here?”

“The Queen demands a fresh bouquet of fine red roses for tomorrow’s banquet, and with such the finely wild roses here, I bound to return to the castle after picking them.”

Hyunjin chuckles, hand slipping down to grab a hold of yours. “Quite a coincidence! You may go ahead as my dear friend and I were actually preparing to leave.” A lie. Definitely a lie since Hyunjin planned on staying for at least an hour more of telling you tales about the flowers. “Let’s go, Y/N,” He whispers in your ear, which most certainly doesn’t raise any suspicion from the newcomer or any confusion from you at all…

He leads you to exit the garden, hand gripping yours gently but firmly, and footsteps noticeably hurried, nervous one might manage point out. The other male just moves his head, fiercely glaring over his shoulder right into your eyes. That there just shares an anxious shiver down your spine. Everyone seemed more than friendly, or that is, until he approached. The intimidating sight disappears as Hyunjin closes the door behind, now letting out a sigh. A sigh of what? Relief or panic, perhaps both Hyunjin might answer.

Continuing to pull you forward back to where you previously came from, you quietly clear your throat, asking, “What was that about?”

There obviously was something off in the atmosphere once the strange man dressed as a card entered. The short visited garden due to the cold glares and insisted exits, a nervous undertone from your friend.

“I deeply apologize, darling. I did not plan on getting your hopes high only to leave so soon. I’m sorry for any uncomfortable feelings.” He sighs once again, head hanging low. A purposely dodged question, but an uttermost sincere apology to note.

You were itching to ask the question once again of what really had happened, but peering at him and taking notice of the frown that never left his face, you knew better than to. Looking slightly down with eyebrows knitted, he’s clearly deep in thought, and if only you could, you’d even see the worry dancing around in his eyes. Aside from this, something in the air already told you it’d be best to leave the conversation as is. So, to your unfortunates, you push all your questions of concern to the back of your head.

“It’s not a worry at all. Though the time was short, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this happy. So, very much, thank you, Hyunjin! This day still doesn’t fail to come to my appreciations.”

“A relief to hear that, so thank you. If you ache to see more as much as I, perhaps I could take you somewhere else? There’s a lovely river not too far; dozens of rose bushes remain untainted. I could take you there if you’d like. Maybe we could paint too.” He returns your gaze, his frown washed away, but bites his lip from nervousness. “B-but, if you’re not comfortable with that or want to go home, I-I can take you, it’s n-not a problem!”

“No, it’s okay, I promise!” A guilty pleasure: Hearing his stutters and seeing the tips of his ears burning red; It’s adoring to be the most honest. “I’d love to visit the river with the roses you speak of.”

The clouds faintly hang above in the soft pink and purple hued blue. There wasn’t all day left, but like dangerously piling berries in a basket or collecting more flowers than your hands are meant to hold, there still was time to stretch and spend until the last ounce.

And with all worries dissipated, he looks at you with a tender smile and crescent eyes.

And once again, such a look from him doesn’t miss to make your heart flutter.

“AH! So, the truthful words you dare to spill, my own son with such a girl! And despite being cornered in the garden, you dare not to get a hold of her?” Shrieks a high-pitched voice followed by frenzied giggles, all echoing off the castle’s marble walls.

“Your majesty, it did not seem the wisest choice at the time! Making such an impression that has a chance of failing? Why, the prince wouldn’t even let me approach her from several feet away! And—”

“You never fail to surprise me, always going about and missing opportunities like a mad fool with only a crooked mind. Especially when you bring me this news! You’ve outdone yourself, surely!” The Queen bursts out in even louder cackles, her head thrown back against the throne. The man of a seven spades card stands before her, hands fumbling around and nervously chuckling, unsure if he should join in on the laughter and unsure of his next move. The Queen then snaps, straightening her posture, leering with eyes that could nearly tear the guard apart themselves.

“YOU GODDAMN PRICK!!!” Everyone standing within the throne room flinches, which the Queen proudly notices. “Look! Look! I can promise next time will be worse if this girl isn’t in my grasp by the next four weeks! I can’t have the prince abandoning his duties and own throne like this nor does she even belong here. I truly cannot let my Wonderland given to her just like that!”

Every word is spit out with passion. Sinisterly passion. Pure insanity from the Queen of Hearts.

“Perhaps she isn’t as bad as most of us assume, your majesty. Perhaps! You should at least get to know of her and her capabilities,” Suggests the seven spades guard whose trying everything in his strength to not tremble under the intimidating gaze.

“I will gladly take your opinion, but I do have a request or two.”

“Yes, what ever is it you’d like me to do?”

“Follow them. Follow her! I’d like to know everything possible, from her effect on the Prince to how she even got here. But! You hollow-minded fool, please do be most utterly discreet about it.”

“As you wish, your majesty.”

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96harmony96 · 3 years

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Chapter 5

I had a vicious hangover on Saturday morning and figured it was no less than I deserved. As much as I’d resented Lauren’s insistence on negotiating sex with as much passion as she would a merger, in the end I’d negotiated in kind. Because I wanted her enough to take a calculated risk and break my own rules.

I took comfort in knowing she was breaking some of her own, too.

After a long, hot shower, I made my way into the living room and found Cary on the couch with his netbook, looking fresh and alert. Smelling coffee in the kitchen, I headed there and filled the biggest mug I could find.

“Morning, sunshine,” Cary called out.

With my much-needed dose of caffeine wrapped between both palms, I joined him on the couch.

He pointed at a box on the end table. “That came for you while you were in the shower.”

I set my mug on the coffee table and picked up the box. It was wrapped with brown paper and twine, and had my name handwritten diagonally across the top with a decorative calligraphic flourish. Inside was an amber glass bottle with Hangover Cure painted on it in a white old-fashioned font and a note tied with raffia to the bottle’s neck that said, “Drink me.” Lauren’s business card was nestled in the cushioning tissue paper.

As I studied the gift, I found it very apt. Since meeting Lauren I’d felt like I’d fallen down the rabbit hole into a fascinating and seductive world where few of the known rules applied. I was in uncharted territory that was both exciting and scary.

I glanced at Cary, who eyed the bottle dubiously.

“Cheers.” I pried the cork out and drank the contents without thinking twice about it. It tasted like sickly sweet cough syrup. My stomach quivered in distaste for a moment, and then heated. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and shoved the cork back into the empty bottle.

“What was that?” Cary asked.

“From the burn, it’s hair of the dog.”

His nose wrinkled. “Effective but unpleasant.”

And it was working. I already felt a little steadier.

Cary picked up the box and dug out Lauren’s card. He flipped it over; then held it out to me. On the back Lauren had written, “Call me” in bold slashing penmanship and jotted down a number.

I took the card, curling my hand around it. Her gift was proof that she was thinking about me. Her tenacity and focus was seductive. And flattering.

There was no denying I was in trouble where Lauren was concerned. I craved the way I felt when she touched me, and I loved the way she responded when I touched her back. When I tried to think of what I wouldn’t agree to do to have her hands on me again, I couldn’t come up with much.

When Cary tried to hand me the phone, I shook my head. “Not yet. I need a clear head when dealing with her and I’m still fuzzy.”

“You two seemed cozy last night. She’s definitely into you.”

“I’m definitely into her.” Curling into the corner of the couch, I pressed my cheek into the cushion and hugged my legs to my chest. “We’re going to hang out, get to know each other, have casual-but-physically-intense sex, and be otherwise completely independent. No strings, no expectations, no responsibilities.”

Cary hit a button on his netbook and the printer on the other side of the room started spitting out pages. Then he snapped the computer closed, set it on the coffee table, and gave me all his attention. “Maybe it’ll turn into something serious.”

“Maybe not,” I scoffed.

“Cynic.”

“I’m not looking for happily-ever-after, Cary, especially not with a mega-mogul like Jauregui. I’ve seen what it’s like for my mom being connected to powerful men. It’s a full-time job with a part-time companion. Money keeps Mom happy, but it wouldn’t be enough for me.”

My dad had loved my mom. He’d asked her to marry him and share his life. She’d turned him down because he didn’t have the hefty portfolio and sizeable bank account she required in a husband. Love wasn’t a requisite for marriage in Sinuhe Stanton’s opinion and since her sultry-eyed, breathy-voiced beauty was irresistible to most men, she’d never had to settle for less than whatever she wanted. Unfortunately she hadn’t wanted my dad for the long haul.

Glancing at the clock, I saw it was ten thirty. “I guess I should get ready.”

“I love spa day with your mom.” Cary smiled and it chased the lingering shadows on my mood away. “I feel like a god when we’re done.”

“Me, too. Of the goddess persuasion.”

We were so eager to be off that we went downstairs to meet the car rather than wait for the front desk to call up.

The doorman smiled as we stepped outside—me in heeled sandals and a maxi dress, and Cary in hip-hugging jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

“Good morning, Miss Cabello. Mr. Taylor. Will you need a cab today?”

“No thanks, Paul. We’re expecting a car.” Cary grinned. “It’s spa day at Perrini’s!”

“Ah, Perrini’s Day Spa.” Paul gave a sage nod. “I bought my wife a gift certificate for our anniversary. She enjoyed it so much I plan to make it a tradition.”

“You did good, Paul,” I said. “Pampering a woman never goes out of style.”

A black town car pulled up with Clancy at the wheel. Paul opened the rear door for us and we climbed in, squealing when we found a box of Knipschildt’s Chocopologie on the seat. Waving at Paul, we settled back and dug in, taking tiny nibbles of the truffles that were worth savoring slowly.

Clancy drove us straight to Perrini’s, where the relaxation began from the moment one walked in the door. Crossing the entrance threshold was like taking a vacation on the far side of the world. Every arched doorway was framed by lushly vibrant striped silks, while jeweled pillows decorated elegant chaises and oversized armchairs.

Birds chirped from suspended gilded cages and potted plants filled every corner with lush fronds. Small decorative fountains added the sounds of running water, while stringed instrumental music was piped into the room via cleverly hidden speakers. The air was redolent with a mix of exotic spices and fragrances, making me feel like I’d stepped into Arabian Nights.

It was this-close to being too much, but it didn’t cross the line. Instead, Perrini’s was exotic and luxurious, an indulgent treat for those who could afford it. Like my mother, who’d just finished a milk-and-honey bath when we arrived.

I studied the menu of treatments available, deciding to skip my usual “warrior woman” in favor of the “passionate pampering.” I’d been waxed the week before, but the rest of the treatment—“designed to make you sexually irresistible”—sounded like exactly what I needed.

I’d finally managed to get my mind back into the safe zone of work when Cary spoke up from the pedicure chair beside mine.

“Mrs. Stanton, have you met Lauren Jauregui?”

I gaped at him. He knew damn well my mom went nuts over any news about my romantic—and not-so-romantic, as the case may be—relationships.

My mother, who sat in the chair on the other side of me, leaned forward with her usual girlish excitement over a rich, handsome man. “Of course. She’s one of the wealthiest women in the world. Number twenty-five or so on Forbes’s list, if I’m remembering correctly. A very driven young woman, obviously, and a generous benefactor to many of the children’s charities I champion. Extremely eligible, of course, but I don’t believe she's straight , Cary. She’s got a reputation as a ladies’ pleaser.”

“My loss.” Cary grinned and ignored my violent headshaking. “But it’d be a hopeless crush anyway, since she’s digging on Camila.”

“Camila! I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. How could you not tell me something like that?”

I looked at my mom, whose scrubbed face appeared young, unlined, and very much like mine. I was very clearly my mother’s daughter, right down to my surname. The one concession she’d made to my father had been to name me after his mother.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I insisted. “We’re just…friends.”

“We can do better than that,” Sinuhe said, with a look of calculation that struck fear in my heart. “I don’t know how it escaped me that you work in the same building she does. I’m certain she was smitten the moment she saw you. Although she’s known to prefer blondes…Hmm…Anyway. sHe’s also known for her excellent taste. Clearly the latter won out with you.”

“It’s not like that. Please don’t start meddling. You’ll embarrass me.”

“Nonsense. If anyone knows what to do with men, it’s me.”

I cringed, my shoulders creeping up to my ears. By the time my massage appointment came around, I was in desperate need of one. I stretched out on the table and closed my eyes, preparing to take a catnap to get through the long night ahead.

I loved dressing up and looking pretty as much as the next girl, but charity functions were a lot of work. Making small talk was exhausting, smiling nonstop was a pain, and conversations about businesses and people I didn’t know were boring. If it wasn’t for Cary benefitting from the exposure, I’d put up a bigger fight about going.

I sighed. Who was I fooling? I’d end up going anyway. My mom and Stanton supported abused children’s charities because they were significant to me. Going to the occasional stuffy event was a small price to pay for the return.

Taking a deep breath, I consciously relaxed. I made a mental note to call my dad when I got home and thought about how to send a thank-you note to Lauren for the hangover cure. I supposed I could e-mail her using the contact info on her business card, but that lacked class. Besides, I didn’t know who read her inbox.

I’d just call her when I got home. Why not? She’d asked—no, told—me to; she’d written the demand on her business card. And I’d get to hear her luscious voice again.

The door opened and the masseuse came in. “Hello, Camila. You ready?”

Not quite. But I was getting there.

___

After many lovely hours at the spa, my mom and Cary dropped me off at the apartment; then they headed out to hunt for new cuff links for Stanton. I used the time alone to call Lauren. Even with the much-needed privacy, I punched most of her phone number into the keypad a half-dozen times before I finally put the call through.

She answered on the first ring. “Camila.”

W that she’d known who was calling, my mind scrambled for a moment. How did she have my name and number in her contact list? “Uh…hi, Lauren.”

“I’m a block away. Let the front desk know I’m coming.”

“What?” I felt like I’d missed part of the conversation. “Coming where?”

“To your place. I’m rounding the corner now. Call the desk, Camila.”

she hung up and I stared at the phone, trying to absorb the fact that Lauren was moments away from being with me again. Somewhat dazed, I went to the intercom and talked to the front desk, letting them know I was expecting her and while I was talking, she walked into the lobby. A few moments after that, she was at my door.

It was then that I remembered I was dressed in only a thigh-length silk robe, and my face and hair were styled for the dinner. What kind of impression would she get from my appearance?

I tightened the belt of my robe before I let her in. It wasn’t like I’d invited her over for a seduction or anything.

Lauren stood in the hallway for a long moment, her gaze raking me from my head down to my French manicured toes. I was equally stunned by her appearance. The way she looked in worn jeans and a T-shirt made me want to undress her with my teeth.

“Worth the trip to find you like this, Camila.” sHe stepped inside and locked the door behind her. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Thanks to you. Thank you.” My stomach quivered because she was here, with me, which made me feel almost…giddy. “That can’t be why you came over.”

“I’m here because it took you too long to call me.”

“I didn’t realize I had a deadline.”

“I have to ask you something time-sensitive, but more than that, I wanted to know if you were feeling all right after last night.” Her eyes were dark as they swept over me, her breathtaking face framed by that luxurious curtain of inky hair. “God. You look beautiful, Camila. I can’t remember ever wanting anything this much.”

With just those few simple words I became hot and needy. Way too vulnerable. “What’s so urgent?”

“Go with me to the advocacy center dinner tonight.”

I pulled back, surprised and excited by the request. “You’re going?”

“So are you. I checked, knowing your mother would be there. Let’s go together.”

My hand went to my throat, my mind torn between the weirdness of how much she knew about me and concern over what she was asking me to do. “That’s not what I meant when I said we should spend time together.”

“Why not?” The simple question was laced with challenge. “What’s the problem with going together to an event we’d already planned on attending separately?”

“It’s not very discreet. It’s a high-profile event.”

“So?” Lauren stepped closer and fingered a curl of my hair.

There was a dangerous purr to her voice that sent a shiver through me. I could feel the warmth of her big, hard body and smell the richly musky scent of her skin. I was falling under her spell, deeper with every minute that passed.

“People will make assumptions, my mother in particular. She’s already scenting your bachelor blood in the water.”

Lowering her head, Lauren pressed her lips into the crook of my neck. “I don’t care what people think. We know what we’re doing. And I’ll deal with your mother.”

“If you think you can,” I said breathlessly, “you don’t know her very well.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” Her tongue traced the wildly throbbing vein in my throat and I melted into her, my body going lax as she pulled me close.

Still, I managed to say, “I haven’t said yes.”

“But you won’t say no.” sHe caught my earlobe between her teeth. “I won’t let you.”

I opened my mouth to protest and she sealed her lips over mine, shutting me up with a lush wet kiss. Her tongue did that slow, savoring licking that made me long to feel her doing the same between my legs. My hands went to her hair, sliding through it, tugging. When she wrapped her arms around me, I arched, curving into her hands.

Just as she had in her office, she had me on my back on the couch before I realized she was moving me, her mouth swallowing my surprised gasp. The robe gave way to her dexterous fingers; then she was cupping my breasts, kneading them with soft, rhythmic squeezes.

“Lauren—”

“Shh.” sHe sucked on my lower lip, her fingers rolling and tugging my tender nipples. “It was driving me crazy knowing you were naked beneath your robe.”

“You came over without—Oh! Oh, God…”

Her mouth surrounded the tip of my breast, the wash of heat bringing a mist of perspiration to my skin.

My gaze darted frantically to the clock on the cable box. “Lauren, no.”

Her head lifted and she looked at me with stormy green eyes. “It’s insane, I know. I don’t—I can’t explain it, Camila, but I have to make you come. I’ve been thinking about it constantly for days now.”

One of her hands pushed between my legs. They fell open shamelessly, my body so aroused I was flushed and almost feverish. Her other hand continued to plump my breasts, making them heavy and unbearably sensitive.

“You’re wet for me,” she murmured, her gaze sliding down my body to where she was parting me with her fingers. “You’re beautiful here, too. Plush and pink. So soft. You didn’t wax today, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Thank God. I don’t think I would’ve made it ten minutes without touching you, let alone ten hours.” She slid one finger carefully into me.

My eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by a woman whose familiarity with the rules of Brazilian waxing betrayed an intimate knowledge of women. A woman who was still fully clothed and kneeling on the floor beside me.

“You’re so snug.” Lauren pulled out and thrust gently back into me. My back bowed as I clenched eagerly around her. “And so greedy. How long has it been since the last time you were fucked?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve been busy. My thesis, job-hunting, moving…”

“A while, then.” sHe pulled out and pushed back into me with two fingers. I couldn’t hold back a moan of delight. The woman had talented hands, confident and skilled, and she took what he wanted with them.

“Are you on birth control, Camila?”

“Yes.” My hands gripped the edges of the cushions. “Of course.”

“I’ll prove I’m clean and you’ll do the same, then you’re going to let me come in you.”

“Jesus, Lauren.” I was panting for her, my hips circling shamelessly onto her thrusting fingers. I felt like I’d spontaneously combust if she didn’t get me off.

I’d never been so turned on in my life. I was near mindless with the need for an orgasm. If Cary walked in right then and found me writhing in our living room while Lauren finger-fucked me, I didn’t think I’d care.

Lauren was breathing hard, too. Her face was flushed with lust. For me. When I’d done nothing more than respond helplessly to her.

Her hand at my breast moved to my cheek and brushed over it. “You’re blushing. I’ve scandalized you.”

“Yes.”

Her smile was both wicked and delighted, and it made my chest tight. “I want to feel my cum in you when I fuck you with my fingers. I want you to feel my cum in you, so you think about how I looked and the sounds I made when I pumped it into you. And while you’re thinking about that, you’re going to look forward to me doing it again and again.”

My sex rippled around her stroking fingers, the rawness of her words pushing me to the brink of orgasm.

“I’m going to tell you all the ways I want you to please me, Camila, and you’re going to do it all…take it all, and we’re going to have explosive, primal, no-holds-barred sex. You know that, don’t you? You can feel how it’ll be between us.”

“Yes,” I breathed, clutching my breasts to ease the deep ache of my hardened nipples. “Please, Lauren.”

“Shh…I’ve got you.” The pad of her thumb rubbed my clitoris in gentle circles. “Look into my eyes when you come for me.”

Everything tightened in my core, the tension building as she massaged my clit and pushed her fingers in and out in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Give it up to me, Camila,” she ordered. “Now.”

I climaxed with a thready cry, my grip white-knuckled on the sides of the cushions as my hips pumped onto her hand, my mind far beyond shame or shyness. My gaze was locked to her, unable to look away, riveted by the fierce masculine triumph that flared in her eyes. In that moment she owned me. I’d do anything she wanted. And she knew it.

Searing pleasure pulsed through me. Through the roaring of blood in my ears, I thought I heard her speak hoarsely, but I lost the words when she hooked one of my legs over the back of the couch and covered my cleft with her mouth.

“No—” I pushed at her head with my hands. “I can’t.”

I was too swollen, too sensitive. But when her tongue touched my clit, fluttering over it, the hunger built again. More intense than the first time. she rimmed my trembling slit, teasing me, taunting me with the promise of another orgasm when I knew I couldn’t have one again so quickly.

Then her tongue speared into me and I bit my lip to bite back a scream. I came a second time, my body quaking violently, tender muscles tightening desperately around her decadent licking. Her growl vibrated through me. I didn’t have the strength to push her away when she returned to my clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…until I climaxed again, gasping her name.

I was boneless as she straightened my leg and still breathless when she pressed kisses up my belly to my breasts. she licked each of my nipples, and then hauled me up with her arms banded around my back. I hung lax and pliable in her grip while she took my mouth with suppressed violence, bruising my lips and betraying how close to the edge she was.

she closed my robe; then stood, staring down at me.

“Lauren…?”

“Seven o’clock, Camila.” sHe reached down and touched my ankle, her fingertips caressing the diamond anklet I’d put on in preparation for the evening. “And keep this on. I want to fuck you while you’re wearing nothing else.”

#camren shipper #camren fanfiction #camren #lauren jauregui #lauren jauregay #camila cabello #camila and lauren #lauren and camila #fanfic #gip #camren gip #Laurengip #g!p #fifth harmony #Jauregui fire

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peridottea91 · 3 years

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Chapter 1

Summary: Everyone has secrets, some good and some bad. Bree Wildes, a witch and god-daughter to the late Bobby Singer, is keeping far too many for Dean’s liking, leaving Sam torn between giving her the benefit of the doubt and his brother’s suspicions. But what happens when the holidays cause Bree to come crashing down? Sometimes, we need someone to lean on, even if it breaks us.

Pairing: Sam x Witch!OFC

Word Count: 3,657

Warnings: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, mentions of depression, mentions of attempted sexual assault (nothing happens though), mentions of familial loss, asshole!Dean, mentions of past drug use, depictions of PTSD, mentions of past trauma, eventual holiday cheer

Beta’d by: @wingedcatninja

Divider by: @firefly-in-darkness / @firefly-graphics

A/N: Story takes place in s12, beginning just before “LOTUS”, and then diverging canon from there.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITES.

MAIN MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

Bree shuffled sleepily towards the bunker’s kitchen. The concrete floors felt cold beneath her feet despite her extra fuzzy socks, and she could really use a steaming hot cup of eggnog coffee. Aside from her groans at being awake and the soft padding of her feet down the corridor, the bunker was completely silent. Sam and Dean had taken off on some hunt gods-know-where and weren’t due to return for a few more days. The case was either in Colorado or Montana, but honestly Bree was still half-asleep when Sam had woken her up a few days prior and let her know they were leaving.

Unsurprisingly, Dean had been iffy about leaving Bree alone for the better part of a week, saying that he didn’t trust a witch not to blow up the place while they were away. Thankfully, Sam had placated his brother by offering to take full responsibility for her. He had also firmly reminded the distrustful hunter that Bobby had trusted Bree implicitly, and that that should be more than enough for them.

All things considered, Bree should have known that Dean would be cautious around her. Before Bobby died, the pair of them fought like cats and dogs; something about Bree’s very existence seemed to grind Dean’s gears. Sam, on the other hand, had been far more trusting, albeit a little hot-and-cold due to Dean’s constant complaining. It certainly didn’t help that ever since Bree had shown back up in the Winchester’s lives almost a year ago, it had been anything but smooth. She turned up one day at their motel room in Wisconsin, bloodied, bruised, and on the run. Naturally, trouble wasn’t too far behind her.

Without hesitation, Sam and Dean sprang into action, whisking Bree away to the safety of the bunker. It was ironic, really, a witch being hunted by other witches. But then again, apparently, they didn’t take too well to one of their own helping hunters. As much as she hated to admit it, Bree was a hunter herself, although she preferred to stay off the field. Didn’t matter to Bobby Singer, though; he trusted her regardless.

Things had come a long way since their early days back at Bobby’s junkyard. Back then, Bree and Dean would always bicker over trivial things, mostly because they were both far too sarcastic and mouthy for their own good. However, Bobby always made sure to keep things copacetic between them, and helped Dean get over his initial distrust, for the most part.

But now, just under a decade later, those trust issues only seemed to have worsened. Ever since Purgatory and the Mark, Dean was so much colder to anyone supernaturally inclined, with a few exceptions—Bree was not one of them. Dean swore up and down that she was hiding something from them, keeping secrets, and constantly berated Sam for playing referee. As a result, the younger Winchester often withdrew from Bree, affected by his brother’s comments.

It certainly didn’t help that the last time Bree had seen the Winchesters, before Bobby’s death, she had sworn to return in just two weeks. She had gotten a call from an old contact overseas who needed help with a potential case and didn’t know who to turn to. The contact wasn’t a hunter, but they were familiar with the things that went bump in the night. Unfortunately, two weeks snowballed into months, and then years, after Bree fell down a rabbit hole of conspiracy, witchcraft, and the British Men of Letters.

Bree tried to leave messages for the hunters she left behind, letting them know what was going on. It wasn’t until she received a call from Garth a few months later that Bree even knew that Bobby was dead. The news tore her apart and sent her spiraling into a depressive episode. After Garth filled her in on the Winchester’s going off-grid because of Leviathans and being on the FBI’s Most Wanted List (again), Bree decided to stay away. So, for the next few years, Bree bounced around Europe and Asia, actively working against a witch cult, demons, and ducking from the British Men of Letters. In all that time, she only managed to return to the States maybe twice.

When Bree finally did return for good and gave the Winchesters the run-down of her current situation, the hunters agreed to make her safety top priority. However, Dean was suspicious, especially after the growing realization that, despite how long they had known each other, he and Sam still knew next to nothing about Bree. As a result, her relationship with the Winchesters was now mixed, at best.

Dean, ever mercurial, would banter and seemingly joke with her one minute, only to eye her suspiciously while taking jabs at her the next. He was trying to keep Bree on her toes, both subtly and not-so-subtly reminding her that despite their history and her relationship to Bobby, he didn’t trust her. And, unfortunately, this meant that Sam was now stuck in the middle, playing devil’s advocate.

Staring blankly at the coffee pot before her, it took Bree a moment to comprehend where she was. She was so exhausted that she couldn’t even remember walking into the kitchen. It wasn’t until one of the fluorescent lights overhead began flickering that she snapped to attention. Under normal circumstances, flickering lights would have been cause for alarm, but in this case, it was merely a short in one of the ancient bulbs. Unamused by the momentary heart attack, Bree sighed in annoyance and flicked her finger as if flipping a switch, instantly steadying the light.

Setting about her mission for a morning pick-me-up, Bree was surprised to receive phone notifications from both Winchesters. Dean’s was the typical “you better not have gone in my room” and “so help me, the bunker better still be standing when we get home”. Nothing like a Dean Winchester morning message to make a girl feel welcome. Bree rolled her eyes with a huff and shot off a quick “shut up and hunt” before turning her attention to Sam’s message.

SAM: Morning Bree. Wrapped up the case early and are headed home. Should be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.

Bree stared blankly at her phone a moment. She had once developed strong feelings for the younger Winchester. But, after years of emotional whiplash at the hands of him and Dean, Bree had started to feel apathetic. Sure, they flirted a bit, but since the death of her godfather, the young witch’s walls built back up and her self-confidence faltered. The last time she let Sam in was when he was in a state-run mental hospital in Indiana almost six years prior. Since then, Bree kept both brothers at arms-length. Why should she trust them when they constantly made her feel like dirt? Like she had no one in her corner? Instead, Bree slowly succumbed to the numbness and put on a fake smile.

BREE: thanks for the warning LOL

SAM: How much of the bunker is still standing?

BREE: none of it. Your hubris has failed you!

BREE: I’ve burned the house down

Bree smirked to herself as she sent off a picture to him of a creepy little girl grinning in front of a burning house (yeah, you know the one). It always surprised her how well she could fake friendly conversation, even one over text. It was probably something to be concerned about, but at this time of morning, Bree couldn’t really be bothered to care.

SAM: Good to know that over 50yrs worth of dust bunnies have finally been exterminated

SAM: Dean’s allergies will be thrilled

BREE: Nah. I magicked them to life. Now they’re hiding under his bed and in his porn collection

SAM: Careful. He might just believe you

BREE: shit you’re right…

SAM: I’m Sam Fucking Winchester.

SAM: Of course, I’m right.

Bree couldn’t help but chuckle despite herself at Sam’s response. It was rare for him to act so cocky, but when he did it was always entertaining. Sam was in prime form today, which either meant that the case must’ve gone well or that Dean lost a bet. Personally, Bree hoped for the latter.

Shaking her head in mild amusement, Bree locked her phone and meandered down to the library, already on her second cup of coffee. If the boys were home, Dean would have made fun of her for how “girly” she took her coffee. Sam would have laughed but secretly snuck some of her flavored creamers when he thought nobody was looking. He may have been Mr. Health Nut and preached good eating every chance he got, but Sam Winchester was also a man with a secret sweet tooth.

Standing beneath one of the library’s archways, Bree thoughtfully sipped her coffee while she looked around the room. For as much stuff as the bunker held, it still felt barren at times—despite the numerous books and displays, the lamps, and warm, wooden tables, the stone-grey walls, pillars, and floors oftentimes made the bunker feel like a military base. Or, a more accurate description in Bree’s case, like a prison. So much for the most wonderful time of the year.

Bree paused at the thought, reminiscing on once forgotten childhood holiday memories and traditions she shared with her dad. When Bree was little, her dad would have begun decorating the house the weekend after Thanksgiving. Christmas had always been his favorite holiday, between the lights and trees and traditions. Every year, he would set up an antique, Lionel train set underneath the tree along with a Christmas village. It was a tradition Bree’s grandmother started, and that her father had continued. But that was what felt like a lifetime ago.

Now, it was already December 1st, and there were no holiday decorations in sight, not that the Winchesters were big on holidays anyways. It had been almost two decades since Bree celebrated any semblance of a holiday. A loving family, holiday cheer, comfort—just wasn’t really something Bree got to experience and hadn’t been for a long time. The longer she thought about it, the more Bree could feel a familiar pain and longing in her chest.

Perhaps that was what Bree really needed, the chance to pretend like everything was okay, even if just for a little while. She had felt a familiar emptiness growing for weeks, maybe even months. Depression had long been a struggle for Bree; unsurprising given her past, a past that she kept locked away and refused to let anyone near. Pushing away the stinging sensation in her eyes and the wave of stomach knots, Bree turned her attention back towards the bunker. Without color, plants, fresh air, or sunlight, the Winchester’s home could be a tad depressing at times. A little holiday cheer could be what everyone needed, not just Bree. Fishing her phone out of the pocket of her plum-colored, flannel, pajama pants, Bree quickly shot off another text to Sam.

BREE: December

SAM: Yes, it is

BREE: Christmas?

SAM: Is a holiday

Bree rolled her eyes and huffed. Sam was trying to mess with her again. Usually, when Sam got in a facetious mood, Bree was grateful for a moment of reprieve and reveled in it. Right now, however, she was on a mission.

BREE: Can we?

SAM: Can we what? Celebrate it?

BREE: YES!!!

SAM: You’re Wiccan though? You don’t celebrate Christmas.

BREE: ACTUALLY, Samuel I celebrate both Christmas AND Yule

BREE: And I’m not Wiccan. I’m an Agnostic Witch... Sorta...

BREE: It’s complicated

SAM: Ah. Right

SAM: And it’s Sam

BREE: Sammy

SAM: ...

Bree snickered at Sam’s obvious annoyance. She could just imagine the look on his face as he read her messages.

BREE: so, can we?

SAM: So, can we what?

BREE: CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS!!!

Bree waited anxiously for Sam to respond. She hoped that he would agree to celebrate the holidays, but at times Sam could be as much of a scrooge as his brother was. Eventually, his next text came through but, upon reading it, Bree felt herself begin to deflate.

SAM: Uhhh... Dean and I don’t really do the holidays

SAM: Last time we did was right before he went to hell

BREE: I know but that’s exactly why I think we should celebrate it!

BREE: You’re both here. I’m here. We’re alive. So, what’s stopping us?

SAM: Are you sure now is really the best time?

SAM: I’m assuming you forgot about the British MOL? And the witches hunting you?

BREE: No, I haven’t. But twisting our bones about it isn’t gonna help anyone

BREE: Everyone loves Christmas

BREE: Please Sam?

SAM: …

Bree held her breath, watching the three, lingering, little dots indicating Sam was typing his answer. In the pit of her stomach, Bree knew what it most likely would be, but she still hoped he would say otherwise.

SAM: Asked Dean. He says no.

Bree’s shoulders drooped, and she let herself slump into one of the stray armchairs in the library. Why was she even surprised? It’s not like she was particularly close with the Winchesters, despite them having known each other for so long. Dean never trusted her and with Sam things were… well Bree honestly didn’t know what the hell to think anymore. While they had offered her a safe place to stay, they constantly made Bree feel like the butt of every joke. Add being stuck in the militaristic bunker, unable to leave without a chaperone, Bree was left to feel simultaneously trapped and unwelcome. She hid it well, though… Almost too well. Getting shut down without seemingly so much as a second thought from Dean only made her feel worse.

What did she expect? The man made it a point to remind her that she was a witch, something they would hunt normally. She wasn’t useful like Rowena, Dean made that very clear. Hell, he even treated the King of Hell better than he did her. It just made her miss Bobby even more.

Bree wallowed for a few minutes before her phone lit up once more. This time, however, Sam was calling rather than texting. Slapping her hand heavily on the phone and tabletop next to her, Bree bleakly answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Oh, don’t fucking pout,” Dean’s gruff voice commanded, “You’ve got two minutes to make your case. So, go.”

Bree froze a moment in both surprise and confusion. For Dean to even consider letting her argue in favor of the holidays meant that Sam must have nagged his ear off and guilt-tripped him hard. The younger Winchester could honestly persuade his brother to do just about anything, within reason. Still, it came as a shock considering that Sam wasn’t exactly Mr. Holidays himself, either. Combine that with the whiplash he gave her on the daily, Bree honestly hadn’t expected to even be given a chance to try and change their minds.

“Hello?” Dean asked impatiently, waiting for the witch to make her pitch.

Snapped out of her shock, Bree didn’t hesitate, “Right! Sorry! I, uh, I was just thinking that doing something for the holidays would maybe do us all a bit of good. Y’all have been working just about non-stop. I’ve been cooped up in the bunker for months. Honestly, who couldn’t use a bit of holiday cheer?” she pitched, “I haven’t gotten to celebrate in, well, years because… reasons… but I think it’s really important that we do this year.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks on the other end of the line. There was still a lot that the pair didn’t know about their witchy companion. So, the fact that she had her heart set on celebrating the holidays admittedly came as a bit of a shock. It also, however, provided them a rare opportunity to catch a glimpse behind the wall she kept between them. Both Winchesters would be lying if they said it hadn’t piqued their interests.

“Look, I’m not asking y’all to help, or clean, or do anything,” She continued with a soft sigh, “I’ll take care of everything myself. I’m just asking that you let me… spruce up the place a little for the holidays.”

“Who says that the bunker needs sprucing?” Dean asked indignantly.

“Nothing, if you like concrete man caves,” Bree retorted as she glanced around the library again.

“Pfft. Our secret base is just fine, thank you very- OW!”

Sam elbowed his brother in the ribs and gave him a stern look. Dean did, after all, promise to cooperate.

“Guys, I get it, okay? The bunker is your home and enough people have screwed with it already. But it’s the holiday season! I’m not asking to do anything permanent…”

Bree was getting increasingly disheartened with the conversation. Dean was stubborn as hell—once he made up his mind, good luck trying to convince him to change it. Sam was stubborn in his own right but could typically be swayed when appealed to logically or emotionally. Dean, not so much, especially if Bree was involved.

“Why is this really an issue with you? Why are you so dead set on celebrating?” Dean asked bluntly, earning another look from his brother, which he ignored.

Bree hesitated a moment, biting her lip as she warred internally over how to respond. Typically, she hated talking about herself and anything personal. She hated the stares and looks of pity and sympathy that usually followed, as if she was a pathetic, sad, little girl. That was, if they even believed her in the first place, which was a whole other issue. Not to mention, she had a strong sense of self-preservation after the events of the past few years. But, if Bree wanted any sort of Christmas, she knew she was going to have to concede a little.

“My dad,” she finally answered meekly, “What few memories I have of him, they’re mostly from Christmastime. It was his favorite, and he always made sure he was home. After he…” Bree swallowed hard, struggling with the words and feeling horribly exposed. She never told the boys about what happened, nor did she necessarily intend to, “Anyways, he always made sure the holidays were special. So full of life and color.”

“And you’re saying it’s not now?” Sam asked for clarification.

“Seriously? You have to ask?” Bree asked rhetorically, “C’mon guys, I know I came to y’all for help, and I appreciate you letting me stay here, but…”

“But?”

“It feels like I shouldn’t have bothered…” Bree’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the boys still heard it. The implication of her words hung heavy over them.

Since coming to stay at the bunker all those months ago, Bree had ventured out on maybe a handful of cases. And never without at least one of the Winchesters with her. It had been maybe a month or two into their living situation when they found out that the British Men of Letters were also interested in getting their hands on Bree. None of them had realized exactly how widespread their influence was around the globe. At least, not until the last case Bree accompanied the Winchesters on. After barely escaping the last attempt on her life, which almost cost Sam his, Bree was put on restriction. If she thought she had little freedom before, it was nothing compared to the way things were now. When Sam and Dean Winchester invested themselves in a protection detail, they certainly went all out.

That being said, the two hunters admittedly sometimes neglected to consider how Bree felt about the whole situation. True, she did come to them for help, but the witch-turned-hunter never expected to be placed on lock-down. At first, she had fought tooth and nail against being pent-up and left behind all the time. But over the past month or so, both Sam and Dean noticed that their companion seemed to lose interest in a lot of things she once was passionate about. Sam had attempted to get Bree to talk but was once again met with a familiar wall. It’s not like he could really blame her, with all the contention between them. This, in turn, had led to several arguments while he and Dean were out on the road, away from any eavesdroppers.

Bree couldn’t see it, being stuck in the bunker hundreds of miles away, but Sam and Dean were having one of their infamous, silent conversations. Dean may not entirely trust her, but never wanted the bunker to feel like a prison (unless they were in the dungeon, but that was a different story). Bree may be a witch, but she was also a hunter… and their friend, whether Dean wanted to admit it or not.

After what felt like an eternity, Dean finally spoke again, seemingly placated by her response, “If we’re gonna let you decorate, there’s gonna be a few ground rules.”

“What?”

“Nothing cheesy or cartoony. Keep it classy. Don’t choke us out with Hallmark Channel decorations and too much cinnamon and shit,” Dean continued, making sure to keep their house guest reigned in, “And I know your weird, hippie, witchy ass is gonna wanna do lots of shit with plants and whatever, but keep it to a minimum. Sammy gets hay fever.”

“You’re-you’re serious?”

“Oh, yeah. Dude’s like some sort of weird, pollen magnet. Doesn’t matter what season—if there’s even a little pollen, his face gets puffy and his eyes water and there’s all this snot-”

“OKAY DEAN!” Sam shouted, effectively interrupting him as his cheeks burned with embarrassment, “Yes, Bree, we’re serious. Just promise you won’t go too overboard, alright?”

“Yes! Yes! Of course!!” Bree stood up eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“And kid, if you break any of the rules, we’re taking it all down. Got it?” Dean added as a final warning.

“DEAL!”

And just like that, the line disconnected. Sam and Dean looked at each other and then the phone a moment before either of them spoke again.

“What the hell did we just unleash on the bunker?”

#sam x ofc #sam winchester x ofc #Sam Winchester #witch!ofc #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfic #yuletide memories #spn holiday fic

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connorandersons-blog · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 3: Prostitution, RK1K

Markus/Connor! Enjoy!

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

Connor highly doubted this was legit, but the Mistress said it was, so he was going to go anyway. Some days it was hard to believe what he did for a living, but at this point, he tried to just focus on getting into character.

That's never been too hard before, even with the most outrageous demands. As long as they paid good enough and respected his terms then he'd do almost anything.

The hotel was the same as all the others he often visited. Actually, if his memory is correct (which it always is), he's been to this exact hotel seven times before. It was definitely more classy and he didn't even get odd looks from the staff, though they were sure to whisper about him and wonder who he was there for later.

That was fine, let them imagine him draped over some old fat white man that paid him in hundreds for a single night just to get slapped around a little. Those men were the easiest. Most predictable. They were dominant in their social lives and needs to be treated like shit every now and then.

He expected that for most of his clients. Some surprised him with their requests. It was always interesting when they wanted him to bottom. Sometimes that could be rather nice but there were also the men that made his skin crawl and need to take a very long hot shower after.

It wasn't just men who hired him either, there were plenty of women or people of other genders. Most of the feminine people who hired him wanted to dom him, which he gladly let happen.

He glanced down at his outfit, satisfied it was to his standards before unlocking the door and walking in. He had said there was no need to knock, so Connor didn't.

He was fully ready for some random rich dude posing as his client but was surprised to see that wasn't the case at all.

Markus Manfred, CEO of the largest paint store, and the CEO of a tech store standing in the hotel room, shirt off, and painting. It really was him. He was also painting. Which made sense but his brain was still trying to wrap around the fact that he'd have his legs wrapped around Markus Manfred tonight.

Best. Job. Ever.

He was a professional though, and he easily pulled himself together, swaying his hips as he walked in. "Mr. Manfred, you didn't need to get all dressed up for me." He says.

Manfred jumps and Connor has to contain an eye roll. Hadn't the dude heard the door open? He really hoped he wasn't going to be creepy. If he was then he'd get to bitch to Gavin about it, so there was that.

Manfred turned and eyed him. Connor stood there, hip out, and let him. He gladly soaked in the attention, ready to do a fucking twirl if Manfred wanted. "Uh, just Markus is fine…"

"Hello, Just Markus. I'm Connor, but you can give me a different one if you like. I'm partial to baby boy, or master depending on what you like." He added a wink at the end, but he had a feeling Manfred was more of a top. Hopefully, he had a big dick or a lot of stamina. Connor was lucky to be graced with both.

Markus nodded, holding out his hand. Connor raised an eyebrow but shook it, not too bothered about the paint that had gotten on him. "Right, hello Connor. Um, not to sound like a dick… but do I know you? I generally have a really good memory, but maybe I was drunk? I'm so sorry, I don't mean to offend you."

What? This was the right room, and definitely the right client. Maybe Markus wanted to play into this, but he seemed genuinely confused. What the hell was she supposed to do?! "I'm Connor, from Bees Love? You did set an appointment with me for the whole night."

Markus's eyes go wide and he face-palms. "I'm going to fucking kill North," he grumbled before dragging the hand down his face.

It's oddly adorable that Markus seemed to forget he had not-quite dried paint on his hands that were now on his face. "I'm so sorry, North said I needed to relax and sent me here. I thought it was just to get away and paint in peace. I'll still pay you, um, and tip? Do you take tips?"

This was actually happening. And it was the funniest damn thing that had happened all week, and he had gotten to sleep with a very famous comedian. He burst into laughter, not able to hold it in anymore.

"I'm so sorry, this is great!" He laughed, trying to take in air. "Yes, I do get tipped depending on how I do. Uh, I don't really have anywhere else to be. You sure you don't wanna sleep with me? I'm up for almost anything."

Markus was looking at him kinda funny. A look he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. No. Nope. Big nope. He was not going down that rabbit hole. "Ah, no? But not because you aren't beautiful! You are, very much so. If you weren't a prostitute I'd sleep with you. Wait, shit, I didn't mean it like that!"

Uh, so Markus was actually adorable. Too bad he wouldn't sleep with Connor. He'd probably be the best lay he's gotten all month. "No, it's fine. I understand. Could uh… can I stay though? I just wasn't planning on going back home tonight, I got a dog-sitter and everything. We won't do anything unless you want. I won't even talk." He was good at not talking, or talking. He could be good at basically anything if he needed to be.

Markus fidgeted and Connor was ready to be told to leave. This would most definitely be his shortest appointment ever. But Markus surprised him once again. "Sure. Do you like painting? I've got another canvas."

Connor shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. He could just get another shirt if this one got messy, it wasn't like he didn't have enough money. "Sure, I'm always willing to try something new. Makes the job easy."

Markus snorts and looks around before pulling out a medium-sized canvas. "I'm sure it does. Alright, so there are these paints you can use. Go wild, I've got plenty." Markus said, pointing then out before picking up his paintbrush.

He's never really painted and he had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to come up with an idea himself or maybe still life? It was called that, right?

"Hey, you don't have to. I'm gonna pay the whole thing and tip. If you don't wanna paint I'm sure I can find something else. Food? Uh, tv?" Markus says, looking around the rather large hotel room. "I think there's a hot tub, and a bathroom if you need it. Just do whatever you want."

Connor couldn't help the smirk. "What if I want to do you?" He watches as Markus's face flushed slightly. It was barely discernible but he could tell. Also how the fuck was this man so beautiful? It was completely unfair that he was so pretty.

"I- um, thank you? I just, I don't want to pressure you just because it's your job. I'd rather get to know you first? I just, I guess I really do need to relax but it would feel like I'm taking advantage of you." Markus shrugged, staring at the ground.

Of course, the one guy he fully wanted to sleep with, like would actually do anything, was giving him reasons he wouldn't. Yet it just made the want stronger. He hadn't felt this… whatever this feeling was in awhile. "Alright, well then we can get to know each other. Let's start off easy, who's North?"

"My best friend. We were high school sweethearts but little did North know she was hella gay, so we broke up at the start of college. We stayed close and I even introduced her to her wife." Markus smiled so fondly it almost hurt to see.

Would his friends smile like that when talking about Connor? Sure Gavin was friendly (in his own weird way and only after he made a complete ass of himself) but they weren't that close. The Mistress was his boss, and he'd like to think they were friends. Not like this though.

He knew so many people, had slept with so many, and knew secrets they'd never even tell their dogs, and yet no one he had like Markus had North. It never hurt so much before.

"Best friend," he said, clearing his throat. "So, I'm assuming you have more friends than just her then."

Markus nodded, the smile still on his face. "Yeah, Josh and Simon. I also used to date Simon but… things happened. The only one I haven't dated was Josh, but he's also straight so it's not like I even ever had the chance. I met Josh in college, he was a professor, and I met Simon through work."

Connor nodded, taking mental notes. "You seem really close." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but by the look, Markus was giving him, he failed.

"We are, but the situation pushed us together even more. If I wasn't supposed to be on my phone I'd text North to have them come over." He nodded towards the table where the phone was.

Markus was really making this too easy. "Oh? Well, that's technically extra but I'm always up for an orgy, haven't been in one in a while." He smiled, tilting his head.

"I- uh, no! No, I just, I didn't mean-" Markus rambled.

"It's fine, I'm fucking with you in the only way you'll let me. So, if I'm just going to hang out for the night, who do you want me to be? I can be innocent, sophisticated… lustful." He said, stepping closer to Markus.

Markus took a step back, shaking his head. "I just want you to be yourself. You don't have to do or say anything you don't want to, there's no pressure. You can even leave whenever you want without question."

Oh. Himself? No one ever wanted him to just be himself. Sure he was asked for slightly different versions of himself but nothing like this. Not when Markus actually meant it. "M-me? Just, um, myself?"

Markus nodded, smiling softly. "Yep, just you. You probably don't get a lot of time to do that, so feel free."

Hm, fine. He'd be himself. "Mind if I use the bathroom then?" He grabbed his bag, and at Markus's nod went to the bathroom.

He took off his lingerie, clothes, and contacts. Instead, he put on soft pajamas after taking a shower and put his glasses on. He didn't bother straightening his hair. If he was going to be himself then he was going to do it fully. He always kept these with him so he could slip into it after the job was done.

He walked out, shuffling slightly and looking anywhere than at Markus. He'd never let a client see him like this, but Markus wasn't actually a client. Not in the normal sense. "Uh, you sure this is ok?"

He finally looked up and felt like running back into the bathroom and putting his other clothes back on. Those always made him more confident, it was like putting on a mask. He felt more exposed like this than he ever did naked.

Markus made a small choking noise before trying to cover it with a cough. "Uh, yeah. You, yeah this is definitely fine."

Connor nodded and dug around his bag again before pulling out a book and sitting down on the bed crisscrossed. He was a little over halfway through, but he hadn't had as much time to read as he'd like.

"What are you reading?" Markus asks, going back to painting.

Connor looked up then back to his book, a real actually blush forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh nothing you'd be interested in."

Markus turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Try me."

Connor chuckled, looking up at him through his lashes. "It's… it's a criminology book? I was thinking about trying to be a detective if I ever got tired of this, but even if I don't it still fascinates me. My adopted father is a Lieutenant at the local police."

It made him chuckle again when Markus's jaw dropped. No one would think his dad worked in law enforcement considering Connor's job. But in reality, Hank made sure he was safe and not pressured into anything. Plus Hank knew loopholes and even commented on how it should be legal so they can protect sex workers.

"I know, I know. He's actually really chill about it. Plus I make plenty of money so I can pay for college without going into debt." He had been putting away money for a while so he could live comfortably for the rest of his life.

Markus nodded, "that's actually a good idea. I'm sure you'd make an incredible detective considering how intelligent you must be to be this good at your current job."

"You really know a way to a man's heart." Connor chuckled and he meant it. Most people thought so lowly of escorts and prostitutes, saying they only did this because it was the only job they could do. When in reality you had to be quick on your feet and able to read people from just a glance.

Markus shook his head, but he was smiling. "I just say what is true. You can put music on if you want. I don't know how you normally read."

"Not in a fancy hotel with a man who won't sleep with me, that's for sure." Connor snarked before snapping his mouth closed.

His worry disappeared when Markus fully laughed. "Ah, that's true. As I said, it's not that I don't want you. I just don't want to push you into anything."

Connor sighed and leaned against the headboard. "I'm wounded, but I think I can survive."

They went back to their own activities barely interacting unless Connor came across a particularly interesting part or Markus asked for his opinion. It was actually really nice and he found himself relaxing more and more.

It wasn't like he had sex with every client. Some wanted him to be a date to an event, spend time with them for the week, or anything else. It wasn't always sex.

Yet even this was different. There were no expectations at all. It was completely freeing. It just made his want that much stronger. Huh, that was a new turn on.

It was late into the night when Connor started yawning. The soft sounds of Markus's brush strokes and Markus's humming was calming in a way he hadn't expected. He was warm and comfortable in the huge bed, and he was tempted to just fall asleep for the night.

"You can sleep here if you want. I can take the couch or get another room." Markus said, making Connor's head snapped up.

"Huh? Oh! No, no, no, it's ok. If anyone should take the couch it's me. You paid for the room, it's yours." He was most definitely not letting Markus take the couch.

"No! Seriously you expected certain things and I didn't deliver. The least I can do is offer the bed." Markus whipped his hands and turned to face Connor. God damn this man was gorgeous. Could he be any more perfect? Maybe he had a really small dick and absolutely no stamina to make up for everything else.

Connor huffed and closed his book. "Nope, not happening. The bed is big enough that we can easily share without bothering each other. I promise not to try anything." Just to show he scooted over and pat the bed.

Markus frowned and looked around. "I...ok. let me get washed up first." Connor nodded and watched him grab his clothes and then watched as he went into the bathroom.

The door closed and he let out a soft sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He didn't want this night to end. He knew it was a bad idea to actually connect with clients. Sure you can make semi-friends but never anything serious. Don't get attached. He knew if he let himself he'd get attached in some way. There was just a connection.

He jumped slightly when the door opened back up. Had he really been falling asleep?

He looked up at Markus and wanted to scream. The man was wearing fuzzy robot pajamas pants without a shirt. It was an odd combination of sexy and adorable as hell.

"Do you have a side you prefer?" Connor asked ready to move to whichever side was needed of him.

"Either is fine, wherever you're comfortable." Markus said, stretching his arms above his head.

Connor nodded and put his book to the side, taking his glasses off. He wiggles under the blankets, trying to get comfortable.

Markus walked around and climbed in. Like Connor had said, the bed was so huge that he'd have to reach out his whole arm to be able to touch him.

"Sleep well, Markus." Connor says, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp.

Markus did the same, and the room was flooded with darkness. "Sleep well, Connor."

He falls asleep much faster than normal. Perhaps it was that the bed was just more comfortable, or maybe it was the company.

When he woke up his back was pressed against something warm and soft. He knew it was Markus but he was still shocked.

What was even more shocking and definitely welcome was the warm hand under his shirt and the very obvious hardness pressing into him.

Markus was also most definitely asleep, and Connor sighed heavily. He was still half-asleep so it took even more in him to not press back. Markus definitely didn't have a small dick. Of course, he didn't.

The slow and even breath on his neck made him shiver and close his eyes for a second. Then the hand was moving down and he arched into it. "Markus I swear if you're awake I'll murder you." He whispered.

Markus sighed and moved his hips just slightly. Connor whined but tried to keep his voice down. This was so not fair.

He was getting hard and he pushed back just slightly. Fuck.

Maybe he could take care of himself without waking up Markus. Just get off then clean up. He could even leave right after so he wouldn't have to see how he'd react. He was off the clock so…

He reached down, gently teasing himself. He should just do this quickly. He didn't know how long until Markus would wake up.

The hand on him was so low but not low enough. It wasn't enough! "Fucking hell Markus," he whimpered.

He increased the pressure but still didn't pull himself out. Not yet. He wanted to savor this.

He tried to keep his noises down, keeping his hips still, and yet he kept pushing back. He wanted to touch Markus so bad. "Please. Please."

The hand on him stiffened and Connor froze. "Hm, Connor?" Markus says, his lips brushing against Connor's neck. Oh, that was not helping. Neither was Markus shifting against him, accidentally pulling him closer.

"Do-don't." Connor whined, squeezing his eyes closed. He didn't know what he was pleading for, but he just wanted to continue so bad.

"Shit! Uh, do you want me to leave? I'm so sorry." Markus said, trying to move away but Connor grabbed the arm.

"You can stay, please stay. I want you." He really did. He wanted him so bad. He took Markus's hand and pressed it against his stomach. "You don't have to do anything."

"Fuck." Markus muttered, his hips twitching forward. "Are you sure? I… I don't want to overstep."

Connor huffed rolling his eyes. "I don't wanna sleep with you just because it's my job, I want you to fuck me." He pressed back against him, sliding Markus's hand lower.

"I don't know… um," Markus said, shifting again. His breath was fast and warm against Connor's neck.

He wiggled his hips, pushing down his pants. He kept a hand over Markus's before taking himself and jumping slowly. "If, if you want to leave you can. But I will definitely not complain if you stay."

Markus pulled him close and he could feel him. Oh. Oh, Markus wasn't wearing underwear either. Fuck that was hot. "Ok. Ok, I'll stay."

Connor smiled and sped his hand up. "Yes! Yes, thank you." He babbled, tilting his head. He wanted Markus's lips on him. Thankfully Markus seemed to agree because soon Markus was pressing feather-light kisses to his neck.

"You're so beautiful." Markus mumbled, moving his hand down lower to cover Connor's as he stroked himself.

Connor bucked his hips, trying to get more. It wasn't enough. He needed more. "Markus, please."

Markus nodded and pulled his own pants down, freely rubbing himself against Connor. "I've got you. What do you need, baby?"

Oh, that was good. That was delicious. "You. Anything you want. I just need more."

Markus pressed hot kisses down his neck, nipping just slightly. Not enough to leave marks but it made him whine. "Are you sure? Connor… this isn't because of…" he trailed off.

Connor turned and pressed Markus back into the bed, straddling him. "If you ask me that one more time I'm chopping your annoyingly large dick off."

Markus's eyes went wide, and he placed his hands on Connor's hips. "Alright, I definitely wouldn't want that."

"Thank fuck." Connor chuckled before leaning down and crushing their lips together. Markus's lips were so warm and just slightly rough from Markus chewing on them.

He rocked their hips together trying to get more friction. "Are you willing to fuck me? I can fuck you but I've been dying for you in me all night."

Markus panted, nodding his head. "Definitely. God, you looked amazing yesterday, but then you changed and I nearly lost it. You looked so soft and fuckable."

Connor whined, rolling his hips down. "Yes, yes please. I've got a condom and lube in my bag. I'm clean."

Markus nodded and flipped them over which was way too fucking hot. Apparently, he noticed the shocked expression because he kissed him with a chuckle. "I work out."

"That you do." He said he panted as Markus got off, grabbing Connor's bag and digging around.

"Sorry, should have asked but I feared for my annoying large cock." Markus said, pulling out a condom and lube.

"I used the word dick, but I think you can be forgiven if you hurry the fuck up." If he wasn't being fucked within the hour he wasn't going to scream and maybe cry.

"My bad, my annoyingly large dick." Markus crawled back into the bed, moving in between Connor's legs. "Alright, how do you like this?"

Connor spread his legs, getting into a good position. "However you want but I do require that I actually get fucked. Even if I come you gotta fuck me until I can't walk. Deal?" He offered his hand and Markus chuckled.

Markus took his hand, shaking it before using it to pull Connor up and into a searing kiss. "I think I can do that baby boy," Markus mumbled before pushing him back into the bed.

Connor let him, spreading himself even wider. He took deep breaths, easily relaxing even when Markus gently pushed against his hole.

"There we go," Markus mumbled before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. Connor whined, arching his back. His thighs were so sensitive and no one ever kissed him this gently, this lovingly. It broke his heart.

"Markus," he sighed, eyes fluttering closed. Markus hummed and did the same for his other thigh.

Then he was nipping at him, sucking slightly on the skin as he pushed his finger in. He would definitely leave marks here. For some reason, he didn't want anyone to see these marks or touch them. He didn't want anyone kissing them and trying to mark over these. These were just for him.

Markus was so slow and gentle, but Connor could tell he was holding back. He knew there was an urgency and want behind every movement and soft touch.

Yet Markus held back for him. It was odd being on the receiving end. Just being able to lay back and take just because he wanted it and not because someone was paying him to. This was for him as much as it was for Markus. He felt truly beautiful.

Markus kissed his hips, using his free hand to gently run a hand down his side. "You're amazing. You're doing really well." Markus says, pushing in a second finger.

He had had so many people that tried to rush this but Markus seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. "Markus!" He sighed, arching his back and trying to push down into his hand.

Markus chuckled slightly, "so needy. How many do you normally need?"

"Most stop at two." Connor says, mind fuzzy with pleasure and want.

"I didn't ask what other people did to you, I asked what you need. I don't want to hurt you. So I'll ask again, baby, how many do you normally need?" Oh, that tone of voice was unfair. It was raspy and demanding and so very in control.

"Um, three without too much of a stretch but for you… I, um, three. I wanna feel it." He wanted that burning stretch like never before.

Markus nodded and slowly added a third finger. "Alright, I'll be slow and gentle. If you need me to stop or go slower at all let me know."

"I… ok," he nodded. Markus was being so kind. Yet that hurt more than any physical pain he'd been in, and one rather angry woman liked to whip people. Wasn't the best night considering she didn't really like it when he asked for her to stop.

Markus paused, frowning. "Are you alright? We can stop if you want." His hand paused and Connor felt like screaming. It was such an odd mixture of emotions.

"Please don't stop! I'm, just not used to this." That was the worst description ever.

"Wait, I thought… has no one?" Markus asks, pulling his fingers out. Connor groaned and instantly missed the feeling.

"No! Yes, yes I've done this in the physical sense, but not," he waved his hand between them, "this? You're, you want me to feel good and you're taking your time. I haven't had anyone do this in a long time."

Markus blinks at him before his jaw drops. "Are you saying no one ever pleasured you before? If they were too rough you… you could tell them to stop right?" Oh, this sweet, sweet boy.

"Well yes, they still have to pay for my time, but it's different. I do get pleasure out of it, but it's never just for me. If I'm being fucked then the person wants me to be. I want this. I want you. And not just… you're kind, Markus." He said, sitting up and gently holding his face. "Kinder than I'd ever imagined. You could be the snottiest man on the planet and yet you turned down a prostitute who had already been paid for and was willing because of your morals. None of my clients would ever do that. I'd like to think some would, but they just need the release or a date. Someone pretty on their arm so they bought me."

That didn't mean he didn't enjoy his job. He loved being pampered and could have as much sex as he wanted and get paid for it. He was living the dream, but it was also nice to have this. Something so soft and gentle, and kind.

Then Markus was leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips like he would break. And he loved it. He loved the way he cradled his head and gently pressed into him. He loved the calluses on Markus's hands as they intertwined their fingers.

He was slowly leaned down back onto the bed, Markus's hands slowly searching his body. He had a few small scars from when clients took it too far, but Markus traced each one like he was a masterpiece. It made him shiver and whine, pushing against the hand.

"You really are beautiful, Connor. All of you." Markus mumbled, pulling back to kiss down his jaw. He raised his other hand to gently card through Connor's hair, pulling at it just slightly so he'd tilt his head. He gladly did, sighing when Markus's lips trailed down his neck.

"Hmph, fuck," Connor muttered, biting his bottom lip. This was too good. He doubted anyone will ever be able to compare to this. Damn it.

"You don't have to muffle yourself, baby, I want to hear you." Markus mumbled against his skin. Connor was sure his entire body was going to be kissed and he was completely ok with that. More than just ok, really.

Markus took his time finding every little spot that made him whine and buck his hips. He was almost in tears from want when he finally grabbed the lube again.

He was still somewhat stretched so Markus started with two fingers, slowly stretching and exploring. "So amazing. I can't wait to be in you." Markus muttered. It was so quiet Connor could barely hear him. Markus had said that to himself, and it sent a thrill through Connor.

"Fuck me! Please, I need it, you." He whined, rocking his hips down. Markus smirked and put a third finger in, moving his hand a bit faster. Connor whimpered and gripped the sheets of the bed, hips moving uncontrollably.

He yelped when his dick was enveloped in the warm heat of Markus's mouth. He bobbed his head before sucking on the head, swirling his tongue around the top.

Connor bucked into his mouth, almost choking him. He rambled his apology which quickly turned into pleading.

Markus took him down again, hollowing his cheeks and running his along the underside.

"Fuck! Fuck, stop I won't last much longer!" Connor begged. He wanted to come with Markus in him. It took Markus an agonizingly long time to pull off, licking his lips once he does.

"Damn I could just do that and be happy. You make the best sounds. But I think I should give you what you finally want." Markus said, slowly pulling his fingers out.

Connor quickly nodded trying to spread his legs even more (he is very proud of his flexibility, he has all of his splits).

"How do you like this?" Markus asks, tearing the seal off the condom then throwing the wrapper off the bed. He easily slides it on and Connor is drooling.

Wait, right Markus had asked him a question. That dick was definitely a blessing, Jesus Christ. He really wanted to suck on that but held back. "Like this works… I want to see you."

Markus smiled and gently brushed a few curly strands of hair out of Connor's face. "I can do that."

Oh, this was definitely gonna hurt and he couldn't wait. Thankfully Markus wasn't stalling either. He moved closer, carefully lining up before looking down at Connor.

He took one of his hands and laced their fingers together before pushing in. Connor whined, squeezing his eyes shut and Markus instantly stopped. "Fuck you, I did not say to stop, you ass." He growled out.

He heard Markus chuckle and Connor forced his body to relax. It was just a good pain, one he'd like to take every day if Markus let him.

Once Markus bottomed out they both stilled, panting for air. Markus used his free hand to brush through his hair again, pressing a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead.

They stay still until Connor gives a small nod. Markus slowly slides out and slowly pushes back in. It's too slow, he wraps his legs around Markus and pulls in back in roughly, sighing when it finally creates the friction he wants. "Yes!"

Markus grunts, chuckling softly. "Fuck, ok." Then he sped up, rocking his hips at a fast but consistent speed.

Connor rocks his hips in time, panting into Markus's kiss. He moaned praises and pleads, mind hazy. It was too good. It all felt too good.

Markus's hands on him, keeping him down but also driving him insane. He took one and put it in his hair, which thankfully Markus completely understood. He tugged on just enough and Connor whimpered.

It was also too much but not enough. He was so, so close. "Please, Markus I need…"

Markus nodded, tugging Connor's hair so he could bite at his neck. "What do you need, baby?"

"I, I uh, I don't know." He hated how whiny he sounded but Markus just seemed to soak it all up. "Ah, Markus!"

He hit the spot and Connor almost cried. "Such a good boy, good beautiful baby boy." Markus said, his hips spasming slightly.

Connor choked and his vision blurred slightly, coming without any warning.

His whole body turned limp and Markus groaned, his hips snapping forward. There was so much but Markus didn't stop. He was so sensitive but he loved it.

"I'm close, baby, you ok?" Markus asked. Connor nodded, hips and legs trembling. He was more than ok. This was ecstasy.

Sadly it didn't take too much longer until Markus froze and Connor wished he hadn't mentioned a condom. He wanted to be filled and maybe even plug himself so he could keep it in him the rest of the day.

Markus took his time sliding out before taking the condom off, tying then tossing it in the trash. He flopped down onto the bed, pulling Connor to his chest. "This ok?" He mumbled.

Connor nodded, wrapping himself around it. "That was the best I've had in a long time. You're amazing." He said, pressing a kiss to Markus's chest.

Markus chuckled, gently soothing Connor's hair. "Why thank you."

Connor hummed, closing his eyes and just basking in the warmth and happiness. He never wanted to leave his bed.

He would have to, though. He'd have to forget all of this. If he didn't then he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about what happened or Markus. He'd never be able to forget the comfort of Markus's arms or the tenderness and adoration in the way he touched him.

He hadn't even realized he started crying until Markus gently wiped away a tear. "Hey, you ok? Did I hurt you?"

Connor sniffled, trying to hide his face. "No, you didn't. I'm… happy?"

He was but he was also so sad. "I should probably leave." He said, pushing away from Markus.

"Wait, what? I have this room until tomorrow. Do you have work?" He asks, running a hand down Connor's back as he sat on the edge of the bed.

The way he seemed to completely respect that it was work. He didn't judge him for it at all. "I… I have to, I…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"You have to what?" Markus asks, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "What do you need to do?"

Connor roughly brushed his tears away. "I have to forget you. I can't… you're too good. I can't get attached. I'm sorry." He shook his head and stood, grabbing his bag and clothes.

Markus was quick to follow him, tripling on a blanket. "Wait, Connor hold on!"

Connor shook his head, trying to pull on his clothes. It was too much. This was all too much.

He was quickly turned and pressed against the wall by Markus's strong hands. "Connor, wait."

He ducked his head, hiding behind the strands of curly hair that fell into his face. "Please don't." He whimpered.

Markus sighed, softly trailing his hands up and down Connor's arm, making him shiver. "Connor, hey, talk to me. I'm not here to judge."

"I can't get attached, it's the worst thing to do in this profession. I can't stop just because someone I like asks me to. No matter how mind-blowing the sex is." No matter how beautiful and wanted it made him feel.

Markus shook his head, brushing the hair out of his face. "I'd never ask you to stop. I… I'm not going to push you for anything you don't want. Maybe we can just be friends? There's just something about you."

Connor knew exactly what he meant. It was like their bodies and minds were two puzzle pieces that fit seamlessly together. Friends. "I… I don't know."

"We don't have to have any sex. Maybe just hang out whenever we're both free. I think North would adore you… oh, actually you meeting would be a very bad idea." Markus said, frowning.

He tilted his head, "wait, why?" Wasn't she the one that had actually paid for him?

"I would not stand a chance if you two teamed up. Terrifying to think about." Markus smirked and Connor huffed.

"Alright, friends. I guess we can start the whole no sex thing tomorrow." He said before leaning in to Markus.

"So needy," Markus said, shaking his head fondly.

"You love it," he whispered, pressing his lips against Markus's neck.

"That I do."

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pcttrailsidereader · 3 years

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14 Lessons from theTrail

As the 2021 hiking season is well underway, the time is right to share wisdom from seasoned veterans of the trail. Brett Fisher (Backtrack) – http://www.wanderabout.org/ – suggested that the five lessons from the PCT as articulated by Anna (North Star) and Chris (Shutterbug) – http://wanderingthewild.com/ – along with the five more added by Bobcat – http://roamingbobcat.wordpress.com/ – and finished off with his own four, would be worthy of publishing. I agreed. Reflection is such an important part of the PCT experience.

These 14 lessons are a powerful reminder to each of us long distance hikers. I love the positive spirit reflected in their words. You may have your own to add and you may take issue with some (I’m still chewing on #8) … please let us know.

Brett ‘Backtrack’ Fisher

North Star and Shutterbug noted that their thru hike of the Pacific Crest Trail taught them many things. Here are five of the most important lessons they learned on the trail.

1) Senses awaken in nature. After years of living in a city, our minds subconsciously created filters to deal with the contant jumble of sensory information. It was thrilling to remove those mental filters and reawaken our senses in the great outdoors. The crack of a distant twig alerted us to an elk, almost hidden in the forest. We could smell day hikers’ deodorant and laundry detergent from several feet away. Our eyes tracked the subtle movements of a soaring hawk adjusting to shifting air currents. The longer we lived in the wild, the sharper our senses became.

2) People are good. On the trail, day hikers and trail angels gave us encouragement, kudos, and tasty food. Other thru hikers shared our joy during good times, and cheered us up during harder moments. Crews of volunteers labored to maintain the trail. The people we met in the small towns along the PCT were incredibly friendly and accommodating. Strangers went out of their way to give us rides, find us rooms, and some even offered us their homes for a night. The kindness and generosity we received went beyond anything we could have expected. We saw the fundamental goodness of people during our thru hike.

3) Hike your own hike. Hikers often tell each other to “Hike your own hike” (HYOH), recognizing a wide variety of backpacking preferences. We knew this phrase before starting the Pacific Crest Trail, but its meaning really sank in with a few hundred miles under our feet. HYOH worked for us in many small ways, such as our hiking pace — we walked slower than most thru hikers so we could take more pictures. But we also realized HYOH applied to larger life choices, such as our decision to continue hiking long trails, rather than immediately returning to desk jobs. To Hike Your Own Hike is to allow yourself to do what works best for you and your passions, and to support others in doing what works for them. The result is greater happiness for everyone.

4) Fewer possessions is freeing. We found that the less we had, the happier we were. Each possession was not only physical weight to carry, but also mental weight. Carrying just one set of clothes meant no decisions about what to wear in the morning. Instead of carrying chairs, which could break or get left behind, we sat on the ground or on logs. Taking only the food we needed made meal choices simple. We didn’t bring bowls and plates, all of which we’d have to clean. Rather we ate right from our pot. With less items to think and fret about, our minds could relax and be open to all the beauty around us. The simple lifestyle is truly freeing.

5) Wilderness is home. As the weeks passed, we became more and more comfortable living in the desert, the mountains, and the forest. A primal part of us came to the forefront. Fresh air, clean water, and open space surrounded us and sustained us. As our relationship with the wilderness deepened, we felt more at home there than we did in civilization. We had not expected this, but it turned out to be one of the most powerful aspects of the hike.

Photo Credit: Rees Hughes

These are the five added by Bobcat.

6) Joy is our natural state. On the trail life is reduced to its most basic necessities: water, food, sleep, shelter, safety from the elements and natural beauty. Because our minds are freed from having to handle what Northstar and Shutterbug call the constant jumble of sensory information, we are open to tackle deeper and deeper levels of thought. Because the trail is so long, at some point we run out of things to ponder, analyze, consider or solve. When that happens, the void that is left seems to immediately be filled with a sense of joy and peace. So, at our most basic level, underneath it all, this must be our natural state.

7) Life is a mirror (you get what you give). I have experienced this more than once on the trail: If I approach the road in a joyful and optimist state, I wait for a hitch less than five minutes; if I approach it with a bad attitude, it will be a long while before I get picked up. The kindness and generosity we received as hikers I believe is in direct correlation to our own state of open-mindedness. The opposite is true also. Fear attracts scary situation. People who feared bears had bear encounters. I started the trail worried about poisonous plants and managed to get poison oak on one leg and poodle-dog-bush on the other. When I became grateful for the cortisone cream two generous hikers gave me, the oozy mess cleared up over night.

8) All you need is love and gratitude. Somewhere in the first few hundred miles of the trail, I became so frustrated with my UV water purifier and so jacked up on iodine that I stopped using any sort of water treatment. Instead, I held the water to my heart and told it, sincerely, “I love you, please don’t make me sick, thank you”. The method proved excellent the whole trail, including with that one batch of “bear pooh water” (see “I believe in angels”). Inspired by my success, I also used this method as sunscreen (I love you Sun, please don’t burn me, thank you), bug-repellent (I love you spider, please stay off my tarp, thank you) and holographic deck (I love you trail, could I get a shady spot, mosquito free, by some water, thank you). Seriously, it works. Try it for yourself.

9) Freedom is an intrinsic quality. Before I left, a good friend told me that the PCT would likely be the one place where I could find enough space to accommodate my humongous need for freedom. All former thru-hikers I have met mention “freedom” as the greatest gift they received from the trail. All that fresh air, clean water and open space seeps into your soul and sticks. I think freedom is always in us, but sometimes our vision of it is clouded. Once we touch that quality within us, it remains wherever the end of the trail finds us. Some of us continue to wander, travel, explore or hike; others return to former lives and jobs from an expanded perspective. In all cases, you can take the hiker off the trail, but not the trail out of the hiker.

10) Laugh it off. Never mind great truths and life-changing discoveries; we know nothing. Any labeled identity we create for ourselves will be destroyed as soon as it’s uttered. I once wrote that my feet hurt, the next day my feet stopped hurting. I once wrote that I preferred solitude, the next day I found myself hiking with a small group of fun people and loving it. I once was very upset at the thought of no-longer being a “thru-hiker”. I think we all feel that way. That is in part why we seek the company of other thru-hikers post-trail. Am I still a hiker if I’m not hiking? Who cares! Each experience is worth its weight in gold. I think it’s important to not take ourselves too seriously and as Dacia so eloquently put, to get out of our own way, learn to surf the wave, revel in the power of it, and let it all come together.

Photo credit: Jim Peacock

And the final four from Backtrack.

11) It’s not a race. Lightweight, a hiker who hadn’t yet escaped the vortex at Casa de Luna, started a list in the Anderson’s trail register, “How To Win the PCT.” First on the list: Be the last to Canada. If you’re hiking northbound that is. Hiking a long trail is not a competition. There aren’t winners and losers. All of us get there only one step at a time.

12) It’s not about the miles, but what happens between the miles. I heard this from my daughter, Dances With Lizards, the only member of Team No Hurries to get to Canada this year. Maybe this is a variation of “the journey is the destination.” We live between the miles. Not in how many miles we’ve walked today, all week, or the whole hiking season.

13) It is what it is. It’s 105 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s 18 miles to water. There’s a thunderstorm right on top of us. The snake ate the rabbit babies. I am very hungry. It isn’t good and it isn’t bad. It is what it is and has no need for meaning. I take a break in the shade in the heat of the day. I carry 4 liters of water. I hunker down from the rain and lightning and watch the display. A snake’s got to eat, too. I eat some food. It is what it is, now and in this moment.

14) There’s pain but that doesn’t mean there is suffering. A day hiker descending Mount Whitney says to me, “Are we having fun yet?” I am huffing and puffing and legs burning on the way up and pant out, “I think we do this for other reasons than fun.” Walking on blisters hurts. Legs and knees and ankles and feet sometimes ache, and sometimes all ache at the same time. Sometimes I am very hungry. Sometimes I smell very bad and so do all my companions. My socks have holes in them. Yet, I laugh at the pain and discomfort. We laugh together. There is joy out here on this trail. Between every step and every mile.

15) add yours here …

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thegc4life · 4 years

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Do you any other Hawks fic ideas you'd like to write? Or is Hawks-sensei all you've got on your mind right now?

Wyv. You know not what you ask. I have to put them in categories, Wyv. Categories.

Kid!Hawks:

-Kid!Hawks growing up with the LOV (both as a permanent thing and various ridiculous drabbles) This involves Unwilling Big Brother Shigaraki, scarily willing Big SisterToga who knows all the coolest knife tricks, Best Uncle Twice who sometimes on his real good days doubles as temporary Dad, the Dad who teaches you how to hot wire cars and laugh people’s money straight out of their wallets Compress, mother-henning can-not-leave-you-alone-for-one-god-damn-minute Spinner, True Mom Kurogiri, Big Sis Mag who seems to be the only actual one that realizes that children need to sleep at some point for the love of god, extremely confused but horrifically soft Dabi who may or may not eventually turn his whole life around because of this feathered idiot that needs someone to make sure he lives a happy life whether it be a permanent shrinking or not. Oh, and Machia. The best Mountain Monster Dog brother (?) a boy could ask for.

-Kid!Hawks with UA (staff edition) also both in temporary and permanent circumstances. Temporary is already in progress. Permanent? Oh boy, permanent world. They raise him within UA so as to keep him from the Commission. Hawks often sits in on their classes with coloring books, picture books, or just to sit there and watch them. He is very smart. He picks up on things, but mostly he just likes being around all the staff. He picks a new person to sleep with every week because some of them have really shitty sleep schedules and even as a kid he knows they would feel bad keeping him up, thus forcing them to go to bed through good-person guilt so he tragets the sleepiest looking people for the week (hint: Aizawa gets picked a lot, and even if he’s not sleep deprived Hawks would pick him because he adores his grumpy cat Dad). Thirteen does crafts with him all the time. She watches every kid show and gets really into it with him. Hawks and Mic make the meals and they sing the entire time. They sing together throughout the day. Hawks will chirp out a line of notes and out of nowhere Hizashi will burst in to sing the lyrics. Midnight reads him bedtime stories cause her voices are the best. She does his nails and lets him do hers. He practices on the UA students to surprise her with new designs (the students fall over their own feet to offer to be his test subject). Snipe does little challenges with him. Things that, while technically helping him get used to controlling his quirk, are more fun than anything else because Hawks enjoys using his feathers in games. Hawks dresses up like a cowboy for an entire month, quoting old western movies and driving everyone but a very proud Snipe up the wall. Hound Dog and Hawks go on walks together ALL THE TIME. They explore the woods around UA and Hound Dog tells Cementoss to change up the geography every once in a while so they have something new to explore. He teaches Hawks how to go camping and Hawks fricken adores him and is always on his shoulders just kicking his feet or napping in Hound Dogs hair. Ectoplasm is Hawks favorite person to play any kind of tag based game because the others are too easy to catch with his feathers. But with Ectoplasm and all his clones? hawks goes nuts. Ectoplasm cried once when Hawks asked Aizawa for peg legs for Halloween and when someone asks him if he wants to be a pirate he says no because he wants to be a super cool hero like Ecto for Halloween. No one will be as cool as him. Hawks fricken loves Vlad. Like, adores him. Whenever Vlad is in the room Hawks will just go hang off his shoulders, or tuck under his arms with a book to read, or just lean against him. He has a little stuffed bull dog that has Vlad’s exact resting bitch face and carries it with him every time he leaves the dorm because he feels safer with it. He goes to Vlad when he’s injured because Vlad just takes care of it, gives him a hug, and doesn’t tell him to be more careful. Just asks if Hawks learned something and moves on. Hawks and Nezu are penpals. They see eachother every single day, but they are penpals. Hawks grows up with the most beautiful calligraphy handwriting because he keeps trying to out-do Nezu’s. He absolutely tattles on every single teacher in these letters, giving Nezu years worth of blackmail. Hawks thinks Nezu is a stuffed animal until he is fourteen because Nezu never fesses up. He just thinks the staff is even cooler for letting a stuffed animal run the place. He only ever cries around Nezu.

-Kid!Hawks UA(Student edition): So many. There’s lines I’ve written where they’re still in school when Hawks is kidified. When they’re already pros. In Canon, in Hawks-sensei, I even a small blurb sentence of Deku running a preschool that Hawks gets put into in an AU with quirks still. I can’t even... there’s too many students, cause I’d do all 1-A and 1-B. My favorite one to randomly wake up in a panick and write about though is the one where it’s Hawks-sensei verse based and Kid!Hawks gets taken in by the Monoma family. Rui and Eiko are older and Monoma is a pro-hero by then. The pure amount of fluff, sass, and Hawks spoiling that will happen. Big Brother Rui and Bigger Sister Eiko. I think about this one a lot.

-I’m currently (slowly but progressing) writing a gift for @saltwater-sweets where Kid!Hawks is taken in by the Uraraka family. Like, he’s not even shrunk in this one. Uraraka’s newlywed parents were involved in the accident he first saved people in and they found him before the Commission. They realized his homelife situation and opened their home to him and now he is Uraraka’s big brother and that one line I threw out there? About him being a global superpower in household moving? Teaming up with Uraraka for that? Yeah.

-Kid!League of Villains and adult Hawks. Yeah, you heard me. They all get shrunk instead of him. And he can’t just... turn them in. They’re kids. They haven’t done any of the crimes their older counterparts have. And if it’s a permanent thing? They stay kids? Then he has a chance to really, truly save them. To give them the happy lives stolen from them. The Commission doesn’t like that. So Hawks takes them and runs. Dabi can be an adult too, I guess, if that’s the ship or something, but I just really wanna write Kid!LOV and Dad!Hawks.

-Kid!Aizawa. Dad!Hawks. Same concept. Beautiful dream. Need I say more.

-Kid!Hawks, Best Jeanist

-Kid!Hawks Gang Orca

-Kid!Hawks RUMI!!

Vigilante Hawks:

- Raven was born and I dived down that rabbit hole so fast I went back in time. Raven. But from a way earlier age. Those guys mugging Hawks when he was fifteen? The spark. Hawks stayed on the streets, he never went back, and he learned some things. He got some freedom, learned some shit, and realized that hero society was pretty fucked up. Shigaraki starts the LOV up and realizes there’s this whole underground community he was never aware of that Hawks has been building for years. It’s great.

-Hawks was never found by the Commission so he was never ‘Hawks’. His Dad raised him as a criminal but Hawks, with his little heart of gold, took every chance he could to make something good out of the bad deeds. Then he got old enough and he took full control. You ever seen the Levi OVA’s of Attack on Titan? Where he’s walking down the stairs and you realize every single person there is part of a huge ass gang of awesome with Levi at the head? That. THAT.

-Hawks loses his shit in Canon and goes completely AWOL. full Feral. He sees the problems, and he is prepared to do whatever it takes get rid of them. Whatever it takes.

AU Hawks

-Horribly injured, recently retired at the ripe old age of 23, and looking for something to save him from depression. Hawks meets Todoroki Fuyumi who gets him a job at her school. This one makes my brain happy.

-Takami Keigo and Todoroki Natsuo meet in college, graduate together, join the same hospital, and open one as partners as soon as they can. Ship or no ship, they go through their entire lives together. (I just... I really like the Todoroki sibs, okay?)

-Takami Keigo was born a lot earlier. So much, earlier, in fact that he is classmates with this overly optimistic ball of light named Yagi Toshinori and the grumpy ball of flame Todoroki Enji. Big Three anyone? Also, everyone needs a dumb smart birb to keep them sane. Hawks loves his friends, and he’ll kick anyone’s ass that tries to hurt them be it physically, mentally, or emotionally. Also, he meets Nana.

-I LOVE THE IMAGINARY KAMAKIRI FAMILY DYNAMIC OKAY?! literally anything with Hawks involved in their lives, okay?! I did not expect to spiral so hard when I made up Hideo and his relationship with Kamakiri but my god did I spiral! I just really love them!

-I’m a sucker for the classics. Tattoo/flower. Coffee shop. College. Roommates. Love.

- (she made me write this) a story surrounding the amazing love story of my sister and Iida Tenya with Aizawa crashes the wedding even though he was invited and Mirio is her maid of honor, with Eri as the ring bearer, and All Might is the flower girl. Twice is the officiator. Uraraka releases a flock of fake pigeons (not real ones cause they don’t deserve that). Oh, and everyone else is there too, I guess. Except for Mineta. Cause he’s in jail.

Right now, at this very moment, I can not for the life of me think of any others but I KNOW there’s at least seven more that I just can’t remember because my brain is work dead. Wyv. @wyvernspirit do you see what you’ve opened here? Close the box! Close it before it’s too late! There is always more! I am never without MORE ideas!

#adorable bean response #pandoras box #i only vaguely spell checked

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safrona-shadowsun · 4 years

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A Courier and a Novice

(Part 2 of a retroactive Rp with @asharinhun. It takes place a little while before the commencement of N’zoth and the assault of the Black Empire. Thank you for reading, if you do! }

The Courier gave a non-committal gesture show of a hand, rolling her shoulders. "Well if you're going to go straight for the throat of the entirely taboo, why don't we throw Necromancy in there too, hm?” Safrona’s sardonic quip was an airy bite. “Even a little Blood Magic? Sprinkle a touch of Drust knowledge on top of that now and you might be well on your way to being ostracized from most society. It's not a rabbit hole most are so ready to jump down once it's realized what you'll find yourself doing along the way."

Safrona drew to a stop as the ruby fully illuminated in her company's augmented eye socket, causing the Void Elf to blink rapidly with what she witnessed. The light of the arcane augmentation now shimmered around the formerly phased Succubus, putting her in plain sight for the novice arcanist. A white predatorial grin stretched between blood red lips as the demon's eyes took their slow, invasive sweep of the young Nightborne.

"Ohh. You're good." A husky laugh left the demon as she clopped over to the Courier's side. "Can we keep her?"

The insinuation drew a narrowed gaze toward the demon, a silencing stare that at least prohibited Elernia to speak more. The devious smile remained, of course. A sort of smile worn by a creature that lived to challenge her Mistress, and found great amusement in it all.

"It's fine, Miss Sharyssa," the Courier sighed. "She's mine. I suppose that cat's out of the bag now."

The succubus shimmied, mouthing the word 'meow', much to her mistress' disdain.

"That’s a bit much even for sarcasm, Lady Safrona.” Sharyssa replied with a shake of her head, clearly not amused. "I have my own conscience and beliefs, and using necromancy is something I do not want to do. Same goes for blood magic. I know that fel is disliked just as much, but it still feels acceptable for my standards about myself. Also, it’s not like it would be my foremost area of expertise, that belongs to the arcane arts without question.”

The nightborne eyed the succubus with the same interest the demon had in her. Clearly, the novice arcanist was not afraid. Still, there was a difference in being foolishly brave and being wary. "She isn’t really obedient, is she?”

The ’meow’ made the young woman chuckle for a moment, but she became serious again. "I suppose that is natural, for you are in charge and she’d like it he other way round.”

The runic tattoos on Sharyssa’s skin started glowing faintly, rings of arcane magic and runes appeared aroudn her wrists and forearms before she stepped closer to the demon, walking around the Courier’s summon. While the creature was bound to Lady Safrona’s will, it was one of Eoloran’s main lessons to never trust demons, not even ’tamed’ ones. The young nightborne didn’t necessarily agree about the latter part, but this was a great opportuntiy to test that rule. "I didn’t think she would be so… ’amusing’ in her behavior.”

"She isn't amusing to me," Safrona remarked with a clearly unimpressed tone. Before the succubus could try to follow up with her own retort, Safrona again let her fingers drift up in a quick gesture. From then on, the demon seemed to be forcibly phased from the physical realm, but still made to be seen. Autonomy seemed to be taken from the succubus, her ability to move from her place, and none of her words could be heard. Still alive, and unharmed, but the demon was held hostage somehow magically.

"There's no taming a demon, lovely girl. It isn't a dog, or a child. You'll always want to assume it's thinking of its self, and how it can best make you work to its method. Succubi especially like to try to get in your head."

Safrona clicked her tongue. "But I feel like I'm just echoing some sentiment you already knew, at least at a basic depth. You've already seen what demons can do in Suramar. What they are when given power."

Sharyssa watched the Courier's gesture with keen interest, the ruby in her eyesocket glowing again as she tried to decipher the correlation between the movement of the warlock's hand and fingers and the silent magical command that froze the demon.

"Hmm... can all of your demons be silenced with the same gesture?" She eventually asked, she could only comprehend a small part of the spell, far from enough to satiate her need of knowledge. "She does seem tame enough to do your bidding. Of course I expect them to try and find a backdoor to get hold of you, but usually they are bound securely that prevents such things from happening. Fel, I've read in uncle Eoloran's notes that some succubi went as far as trying to please their male masters out of their own volition. Could they really sink so low as that?" She paused at the mention of Suramar. "Demons were the lesser evil there... nevermind."

Once the Courier restored the demon her functions, it was clear from the gaze the succubus shot at its master that she wasn't happy. That was when the young nightborne noticed the change in the expression of Safrona's pet. Elernia was smirking as she leaned closer to inspect the void elf's swollen shut left eye.

"That eye again, sweetling? You should get rid of it, you're already halfway there to becoming one of those monstrous Illdari, haha.” The succubus purred. “Do you wish for me to hold you down and dig it out? I can very much do that, my mistress..."

While Safrona only seemed unimpressed, the comment as if losing an eye was a simple joke infuriated Sharyssa, so much that she tossed a a fist towards the demon's face.

"If it's so funny, try it yourself!" The nightborne hissed, but Elernia simply phased out with a chuckle, only to be forcefully made corporeal right after, clearly against her will.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Sharyssa packed another punch, this time slightly enchanting her fist so that it would hit as if it was with the physical strength of Asharin. Unable to move, the succubus took the hit cleanly in her right eye.

The succubus veered back, hooves clopping in awkward succession at the shock of Sharyssa's sudden retaliation. The vain creature touched her own face where the fist made it's impact perfectly, wings twitching.

"So rude." Elernia spoke lowly, eyes darting between both her Mistress and the Nightborne. Her Warlock had intentionally released her from the banishment to receive the punishing strike. Yet the succubi's smile retained its smugness, roused by the sudden rise of ire she had inspired. “Oh what, Pretty? Did I make the little girl angry?”

The newly injured eye did not stop the succubus' assessing, hungry stare, eager to provoke new prey. Yet the wicked thing seemed to pace herself. There was no eye contact shared between the demon and her mistress, but in a simple display of cooperation, she awaited at least for permissions to attack in return.

Safrona observed in silence at first, expression unreadable as she considered the next step. Some subtle shift from the Warlock, a mental command translated through a special repore, and the succubus seemed to respond, shifting her own stance, wings angled and ready. The demon's whip uncoiled at her side, barbed and wicked as her smile.

"You have many questions, Miss Sharyssa. But I think the best way to learn is to know your subject personally. So. Welcome to some impromptu training, yes?" The annoyance that had soured the Warlock's mood seemed to give way to a touch of playful interest. "I'll let you two get acquainted for a few minutes, yes? And I'll do you the favor of not getting involved myself. Beyond restricting the demon, of course." The Courier dared a little grin. "Anything else would be entirely unfair."

Part 1

#Safwriting #Sharyssa #IC #Rp #Elernia #Warlock

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anoddconstellationofthoughts · 4 years

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so. here we go again folks. sit down and strap in tight.

geraskier fic

jaskier is a massage therapist

geralt is an mma fighter and constantly gets Broken

so he and jaskier become friends through that

and soon geralt is coming to see jaskier even when he’s not hurt

and they both grow crushes n start to fall whatever it’s cute

but then a fight goes wrong

like really wrong

geralt’s in the hospital

jaskier’s just a massage therapist, not his bf, not family, not even an official pt. he has no claim on geralt. he can’t go see him.

geralt has only ciri (she’s probably 18/19 in this fic, just for convenience), and she’s heard about jaskier, but never met him. she, therefore, can’t sign to let jaskier in.

geralt’s in something of a medically induced coma, to keep his brain in shut down mode while it tries to heal. idk how body work.

yennefer is geralt’s manager/pr person, and jaskier’s “friend” she knows ciri and therefore is able to get updates on how he’s doing. she passes them along to jask and he hangs on her every word.

three days short of a month, the doctors deem geralt safe enough to bring out of the coma. he doesn’t wake up right away, bc, yknow, coma and sleeping, but when he does, he’s alright.

except he’s not alright.

because he doesn’t remember jaskier. or yennefer. or anyone else. the only person he remembers is ciri, and even then, he sometimes calls her pavetta. he’s never done that before.

jaskier is heartbroken. HEARTBROKEN.

but hey, maybe, yknow, this could give him a chance.

geralt’s finally down and out from fighting, ciri and yennefer will make sure of that. vesemir and the wolves (geralt’s trainer/fight bro buddies) will too.

so maybe, now, jaskier and geralt can actually get to know each other, instead of small talk while one rubs oil and wishes into the others’ scarred and knotted flesh.

and it works.

geralt begins to remember people. slowly, but he does.

he makes references he should have forgotten about, is able to recognize and name fighting moves and techniques, can list yennefer and ciri’s exes and everything he hated about them then and continues to hate now.

there’s not much for him to remember about jaskier. they never really got to know each other anyway.

but they get to begin anew.

jaskier learns that geralt has a horse, named roach, who’s his pride and joy. geralt learns that jaskier is allergic to peanuts, but has done the “shove in a reeses and stab with the epi pen” move at least twice.

they both learn that neither of them likes to talk about their parents or their past.

geralt eventually Remembers most things. there are still holes and gaps and such, as there always will be. brain trauma really fucks with you.

geralt discovers he likes french toast, which yennefer and ciri both SWEAR he hated with a passion before the injury. jaskier only smiles and looks up recipes.

(he’s a shit cook, but that’s okay. they’ll find that out together, at a later date.)

so geralt got discharged from the hospital a week or two after he woke up, as his body had healed, only his mind had not. he goes go see a therapist (triss, probably) who he doesn’t fully trust, but she knows yennefer and has good reviews on RateYourShrink.com. so he goes with it

she, of course, unearths some deep seated trauma.

geralt knows that since she’s his therapist, he should talk about the trauma w her, but he also wants to do it w someone he also Actually cares about.

since the injury, vesemir and the wolves have grown distant. geralt guesses it’s due to guilt. they’re all still fighting. he’s the odd one out.

ciri is his daughter. absolutely not.

he and yennefer don’t quite have that kind of relationship. they talk about feelings, sure, but the feelings they talk about are mostly “i’d like to burn down a building but i can’t” or “i wanna stick my dick in it” or “i think that perhaps one of us is misreading the situation here.”

they don’t really talk along the lines of “i don’t know who i am anymore. i don’t like what i went through to get here. i don’t know if i like who i am.”

it’s a conversation they absolutely should have, as the two of them specifically would be very good at it, but they don’t. that’s just not where they’re at right now.

so jaskier it is.

jaskier sits quietly and listens and holds geralt’s hand and head and body while he cries.

sometimes, just so geralt doesn’t feel weird about it, jaskier unloads a little too. he talks about his love for music that his parents forced him to abandon for A Real Career. tells geralt about the scars his father left, both mental and physical. about his mother’s blind eye and slow descent into drug related madness. about his sisters abandoning him in their haste to get away from their parents and leave the house.

geralt nods. he knows what it’s like to be abandoned.

through their mutual trauma, they bond. jaskier tells geralt he isn’t sure he knew him all that well before the accident, but he’s very much in love with the person he is now.

geralt absolutely does not cry at that. no way. ciri buy more kleenex, please. yes, the ones with lotion.

(he has a sensitive nose)

jaskier moves into geralt’s huge mma money fighter mansion. yennefer (who doesn’t live in the house but might as well start paying the mortgage) threatens him with bodily harm if he hurts geralt. ciri only narrows her eyes and makes no attempt to hide the knife strapped to her thigh.

they’re happy.

jaskier adopts a dog, a lil jack russel terrier who has the personality of a million year old rabbit on crack cocaine. geralt pretends to be annoyed by him, but jaskier walks in on geralt napping with the dog curled on his chest far too many times to believe it.

he takes up music again. relearns how to play the lute and the guitar and the ukulele and the piano. the house is almost always filled with music.

they’re really happy.

geralt remembers little pieces more and more every day. and sure, he’ll never remember everything. but that’s alright. he doesn’t need to.

he has everything he needs right here.

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shymeg · 5 years

Text

This was no ordinary Saturday

80. "I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn't human and, you're criticizing me for being shocked?! for Anonymous

synopsis: It started out at Pop's. I was just walking home when the person I secretly loved turned into something supernatural. Was I dreaming? Was I going to make this out alive? This was no ordinary Saturday.

This was no Ordinary Saturday

I was writing my manuscript having my black coffee at Pop's like any typical Friday evening or early Saturday morning and forgetting that it was a full moon. I never really paid attention before. Why Betty and Archie never wanted to hang out with me. I mean, all I did was type away at my story. I wanted it to be as realistic as possible. I mean, after all, I was a lurker in the shadows- a lone wolf, Yet now that I think back on it, a lone wolf might die. I mean most wolves run in pacts. They aren't meant to be alone.

So, if it's alone, it was probably abandoned, so that fits me mentally. It more likely was injured in some way a defect I guess that fits me too. Wolves had a pretty coat at first, but after all the fights they get into, they tend not to maintain that beautiful coat of theirs.

So, minding my business well people, watching as I typically do. I mean, I want the best story, and after, Jason Blossom’s murder. He was shot, which is better than him drowning to death since he was supposed to be this grade A swimmer, so he should have known how to swim. That or do the dead man's float even I am capable of that one. Yet, why was he shot, and for what reason? I was pondering this exact thought when Pop Tate himself came over to me, "Hey Jug, it's 3 A.M. I need you to go home at least for a little while. So, I can pretend I'm not running a hotel."

I blushed from embarrassment. I was going to have to go to my little hole in the wall. Closet now that the drive-in was no longer. I couldn't go home. My dad was violent when he drank. It was a given he'd be drinking today probably all day it being Saturday early morning. I was not going to let my dad beat me because he was drunk or asked where I have been? Where was his food if I was at Pop's. When he knew my job was at the drive-inn and now that was gone taken from me. I still held the picture in my backpack of JellyBean and me. It made my heart hurt. Knowing her and mom just up and left me with that monster. Yet, I think I reminded mom by looks alone too much of him, and she couldn't see my face. I had resentment sure which 15-year-old kid wouldn't?

Yet looking at Pop Tate, I understood his predicament. I stayed for hours here, unless Archie invited me to his place, which was less these days because he was so into football. Pop fed me like I was his foster son. He never asked for payment, and every once in a while, I'd do odd and end jobs, and he'd smile, and I would feel like I repaid some of my debt. Knowing it could never truly be repaid. Pop Tate was a saint for putting up with me, feeding me and keeping me warm this long without asking any questions.

I nodded and said, "Thanks, Pop." He put out his hand, and a paper bag was in it, "For the road until I see you again for breakfast," he had a genuine grin on his face. Like he truly wanted me back. I took the bag, and I hugged him. He embraced my hug.

I was heading for the school and to my secret window when I heard a noise in the bushes. I figured it was just a rabbit. Yeah, a rabbit. Yet, it was howling like a wolf. I wanted to creep closer. Was it hurt? Why would a wolf be in Riverdale? Maybe, just maybe it was an injured dog. I thought back to Archie's dog, and I wouldn't want it lying there alone, crying.

So, I took out my pocket knife encase. I went closer to the bushes, and that's when I saw it. The most vivid white wolf I have ever seen with these emerald eyes pleading for me to stay away. Yet, I couldn't. I looked at the wolf, and I saw that its paw was bleeding badly. The wolf was also limping, and I wondered, was the leg broken? Was it merely limping do to the paw alone? I wasn't sure, and I was about to call the DNR when the wolf smacked my phone away from my hand.

I was fuming. That phone and my computer may be old, but that's all I had. It wasn't a smartphone like my friends had, but it was a phone, and it was mine. If that stupid wolf broke it, I was going to be livid. Yet, I looked again, it's emerald eyes and saw the pain. Like I could feel it, but how?

I went to try to get my phone when the stupid wolves paw landed on it, "Hey," I shouted. Great, I'm talking to a wolf. When suddenly, the wolf let out a yelp. I saw it. I thought I was dreaming at first, but no, I was still here before Riverdale High and my hole in the wall. The wolf was transforming before my very eyes.

Her vivid white fur becomes peach-colored skin. She had on pink polka undies that made me blush and a pink bra again, making me blush for looking. I turned around embarrassed for her and myself. I would never want to get caught like this. Yet, I wasn't a werewolf. Wait, those are real? I turned to see a shimmer of blonde, yet instead of that iconic ponytail, her hair was wavy and down. It couldn't be, could it? No, way Betty Cooper was a werewolf? Yes, I must be dreaming. I pinched myself. Nope, still here. I heard her whimper behind me. I knew she was injured. Yet, she was practically naked.

I realized I still had my flannel shirt around my waist, so I threw it to her. Hoping that would help. I decided to walk fast away from her towards the direction of the school. I was livid. Why didn't Betty tell me? I thought I was her horror movie, buddy? Her go-to number 2 guy? Only because she wanted Archie. I could never be Archie. I was the cynic, the half-empty guy, the loner that nobody wanted to say out loud they were my friend. I was the social pariah, the outcast, the person from the wrong side of town, the one that shouldn't even be going to Riverdale High. Yet, I was told by my social worker that I'd be going because they didn't want to fail me. I had potential. Blah. I was so mad at Betty. It's not even sunrise yet, so why was she changing? Was it because she was hurt? I didn't care; I muttered to myself. I had no real clue how the Supernatural worked. I never truly believed in it. Now, I saw what she was a werewolf, and I was truly alone.

Next thing I knew, I spun around so fast and was thrown to the ground held down. "What did you see?" "Get off of me" I tried to fight her off, but she was too strong.

"I'll let you go when you tell me what you saw," Betty gripped harder.

I yelped in pain. I just wanted her to let go. Her eyes looked sharp, jagged even. Did her eyes glow? Did I imagine that? I have no idea anymore about anything.

I closed my eyes and hoped this was all a bad fucked up nightmare. I just wanted to go to my bed in the hole in the wall. I just wanted my friend Betty the one I thought was like me, well human, anyway.

I felt a tear pierce my skin. Of course, I'd cry. "I'm not going away" her voice was angry and husky I looked up I swear my eyes were pleading with hers, "I didn't see anything, I just want to go home." she shook me hit my head against the ground, "You lie!" Sure we all lie, but in this case, not really. I turned around when Betty changed. I didn't see her get hurt. I heard the cry and was hoping it was an injured dog. "i... I di...did didn't sssseee any anything." Great, now I'm stuttering! she scratched me, "Lie again, and it will be your eye!" I thought she was my friend. I thought wrong. I Gulped down as more tears began to fall. "What do you want me to say? I'll say it," I began to plead. I feel defeated, feeling humiliated. My heart rejected by a friend I knew since Childhood.

Her green eyes looked straight into me. Like she could see my soul. She shivered. She howled. I thought she changed from her wolf form? Why was she still howling? Is it a process? Does she not realize she's not a wolf anymore? My mind was thinking and analyzing every little thing when she hit me. "Get up!" Yeah, that would be so easy. That's what I was doing when you rudely laid me flat. Wouldn't let me get up, but now you will after threatening my eye? I wanted to scream. Yet I got up on wobbly legs. She put my hands behind my back, and she looked like she was going to kill me. "What did you see?" "Nothing, I turned my back." "What did you see before that?" "a wolf that was injured. I was going to call the DNR, but the wolf rudely took my phone." She had the nerve to look at me sheepishly." This phone?" As she picked it up off the ground? Slipping the phone into my back pocket so I couldn't get it. Betty's green eyes stared straight into my blue eyes and stated, "you aren't lying." I wanted to scream, no shit. Instead, I said, "Can I go now?" She looked sad, "Unfortunately, No." "WHAT" "You can't because you saw me." "I did not" I stomped my foot I was throwing a tantrum. "Jughead, you did. You handed me this." I finally looked at her. She was wearing my flannel. It made my heart sing. Yet, something else filled it with dread. She was using that against me. Cause I gave her my clothes? "Hand it back. We can pretend I never saw you with basically nothing on. My apologies you wanted to walk around with your bra and panties." Betty looked pissed at me now, and I didn't care, "I CAN'T have your smell on me, Jughead. If I go back and we don't explain what happened, you might have a hit out on you from one of them thinking you can't be trusted." I glared at her, "Really, they'd kill me because I know? Well, why don't you kill me? I have no protection, anyway!" She laughed and smiled, "Oh Jug, you are so dramatic." she shrugged, "Plus, why are you overreacting about this?"

Had I entered the twilight zone? It was the full moon, after all. But somehow I went off, "Really, Betty, you hid this from me, I was supposed to be your friend. Why would you expect me to be okay with this? You threaten me. You hurt me, and you don't care. You act like this is a normal thing. I want to go home and go to sleep."

Betty's wickedness was back, "Oh Jug, but your house is in the opposite direction. The way you were walking was to the High School. So, I'm not the only one holding secrets. Plus, I couldn't kill you, but I might use you as my pet. If you continue with this little game of yours, so stop being upset and march. I wouldn't want to have to force you."

I gulped. I felt Betty's hand on my neck. She kissed my cheek. she whispered in my ear, "If you are a good boy, I might let you sleep in my bed later." She smiled that wicked smile, "I always liked you, Jug, and after tonight, don't worry, I won't turn you, but I might just make you mine."

I thought this would be a typical night to walk home. I was deadly wrong. I'd be happy if I made it out of this still alive along with being human as I marched to the unknown with my hands behind my back with a robust supernatural being that I love.

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canadiankazz · 5 years

Text

The First Time - an L.A. By Night Fanfic

I received a positive response to my inquiry about people being interested in my new L.A. by Night fic, so here we go. Because I got my start on fanfiction dot net back in the day, I’m going to give my warnings thusly:

I obviously don’t lay claim to any of the characters involved. This fanfiction is part one of several, maybe as many as five parts, depending on when I run out of ideas. It is intended for a mature audience, and it is the beginning of what will end up being a pretty heavy multi-part Jasper/Annabelle story. SPOILERS for the end of campaign 1, but not for the one-shots. This is going to go off canon pretty quickly, so consider this an AU. Written before the premiere of Season 2.

Annabelle is going to try to help Jasper with his problems in finding food. He reluctantly accepts her help. They both have a better time than they thought they would.

Very, very special thanks to @cravatfiend, for their encouragement, ideas and enthusiastic reactions to reading the first drafts.You are the weird person into weird things. I dragged you into this fandom and we are both hopelessly down the rabbit hole now, friendface. ;)

First posted Jan. 11, 2019.

Now can also be found at my Ao3.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The First Time

When Jasper excused himself early from their coterie meeting, Annabelle was the only one who followed him. Though Victor asked if anything was wrong, Jasper brushed him off. He was fine. He didn't like Victor or Nelli involving themselves in his problems. They both said they understood him, and perhaps they did, but despite their shared experiences, it was only a surface level of understanding. Other than sharing their already mutual coterie spaces, neither of them had done anything else to help him.

Annabelle caught him just before he got to the elevator, just before he disappeared.

“Jasper, are you okay?”

There was something in her tone that made him stop, or maybe it was because she had followed him and she was the only one making an effort. Normally, he did not like being followed. That was his job, not the other way around. Tonight, however, he was feeling more vulnerable than usual. He hated it, but he knew that he had to do something about it. He glanced at her over his shoulder and put on a fake smile.

“Sure, I'm fine.”

Annabelle saw through it instantly. She thought he looked awful, like what he did before his early and frantic departure from the Highland. It wasn't his physical appearance, nothing could be done about that, but it was something in the way he moved, in his tone of voice. There was something very important bothering him. She glared at him critically. “No, you're not,” she said softly.

He sighed.

“When was the last time you ate?” Annabelle asked, zeroing in on the issue.

“I can take care of myself.”

He went to leave, to continue to brush her off, but she was not having it. She closed the distance between them and put her hand on his elbow. His muscles were tense, like a bowstring that's been pulled back. He didn't pull away from her.

“Jasper, I... I know you can take care of yourself, but one of the things that has helped people survive as long as they have is others helping them when they needed it. Please, let me help you.”

His icy, inhuman eyes met her deep, dark, emotional ones. There was a beat where he weighed his options. She was stubborn, one of the most stubborn Kindred he had ever met. She was also still kind, still had the streak of humanity that he had all but lost a long time ago.

“Alright,” he relented. “Come with me. We'll talk.”

Her eyes lit up a little with this forward progress. “Okay, where are we going?”

“We'll go... back to my home,” he said reluctantly. “It's private.” He glanced back to the board room. The others could be listening in.

“Okay,” she nodded. She trusted him, but while they were in the elevator, she sent Victor and Nelli a text to tell them she was with Jasper and they were going to talk. She felt a little guilty about doing so. It made her feel like she was going on a dangerous date and texting someone about it just in case things went south and she needed the cavalry to come in and get her, or someone to tell the cops about the last person she was with if she went missing. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Jasper was her friend, and she had no doubt that if he really had wanted to hurt her, he would have done it already. Jasper was invisible now in the elevator, but she knew he would have seen her text.

“I can call an Uber,” she offered. She had a mental image of Jasper sitting perfectly still and invisible in the back seat while she chatted with and distracted the driver.

“No,” came Jasper's disembodied voice in her ear. She suppressed the urge to flinch. “We'll walk. It's not that far.”

She nodded and started walking. She did her best to ignore the shivers Jasper had given her down her spine.

They left campus and headed for the L.A. River. Once they were more or less alone and definitely out of ear shot, Annabelle felt it safe to be able to talk to him out loud, but softly.

“Jasper?”

“Yes?”

His voice was coming from her left. She glanced towards him, swishing her hair out of the way, but of course, she couldn’t see anything.

“You never answered my question. When was the last time you ate?”

“I haven't really... not since Tara.”

Annabelle blinked in surprise and mild alarm. “But that was weeks ago!”

“I know.”

“But, you...” She was suddenly much more afraid. His Beast, his hunger... it must be so bad, but he was only just now starting to show any sign of it. She admired the restraint, the willpower he had been quietly using all this time.

“I ate a stray dog the other night,” he admitted, “I haven't found another solution yet, but I will. Don't worry.”

“You ate a dog?! Of course I'm going to worry, Jasper,” Annabelle snapped. “You're telling me you haven't eaten in weeks! I – argh!” She made a sound of frustration and sighed. Anger wasn't the answer. “This has gone on long enough Jasper.”

“What are you going to do? Kidnap someone for me to feed on?”

“No! God, no! I... why don't you feed on me instead?”

She had said it without really thinking. She stopped walking and got the vague feeling that he had stopped too.

“No,” she heard him say.

“Well... why not?”

“Because... I don't want to hurt you.”

She hated that she couldn't see him. “You won't hurt me.”

“I could though. If I lose control, I could kill you.”

“You won't though, Jasper. You've never done that. You're too strong to do that.”

He was quiet for several moments. She wondered briefly if he had left. She tried to keep her voice steady. “Are you still here?”

“Yeah,” he said very softly. She didn't think he had moved based on where his voice came from.

A thought surfaced in her brain. This wasn't the first time she had thought this, but it was the first time she was going to ask about it out loud.

“Has anyone ever offered themselves to you before? To be fed on, I mean.”

“Let's keep walking.”

She thought she could hear him move, but she wasn't about to let him leave without her. “Jasper-!”

“Come on,” he invited her along. He wanted to walk and talk.

She fell back into step beside him, or so she assumed.

“To answer your question, yes, I have been offered,” Jasper's voice came in hushed tones by her side. “At the Succubus Club, I could have fed and no one would have protested. I've been to other vampire social gatherings and declined to feed there. But that was the others being polite and having to obey social rules. Outside of those circumstances, no. No one has offered themselves to me before. No Kindred, and definitely no mortals.” He chuckled softly. “The little game you were playing on campus before Victor and Nelli and I found you... I can't do that. It's different for me, for Nosferatu in general. We can't...” He sighed quietly, forming his thoughts into words. “We don't tend to get very many opportunities where people are happy for us to feed upon them. Have you ever seen Nelli feed?”

“Yeah. She um... she gets people who want to sit with her and she kisses them and...” Annabelle made a face. It was kind of disgusting.

Jasper chuckled again. “Yeah. I can't feed like that. No one is ever going to want to sit in my lap with champagne.”

Annabelle tried to play it light. “Oh, I don't know... there's a lot of weird people who are into weird things out there.”

“It's nice of you to say so, but none of those people have found me yet. To be honest, I don't know what I'd do if they did.”

Annabelle smiled a little. They walked in silence for a few minutes. They were close to the river now. She found her thoughts circling back around to her biggest anxieties about choice and consent. “So... you've never gotten consent before you fed?”

“No,” he said quietly, reluctantly, truthfully. “I wish I could though. As I said, that's not an option for most of my kind. Being a Nosferatu is like... hard mode vampire. We don't get the luxury of having people want to be in our company, and most of us aren't wealthy enough to pay people to be with us. People see us and scream and run, or scream and attack, unless they have been mind controlled, but in that case, are they still giving their consent?”

She chewed that over in her mind. It had dreadful implications.

They were quiet again until they were almost at Jasper's front door. Victor had paid to get the door replaced so it would be just as secure as it had been before. It was a nice gesture, but it didn't change the fact that the location of Jasper's home was still known to them, and that he wished it wasn't so.

“My offer still stands, by the way,” Annabelle said at the door. “You can feed on me if you want to, just to get you through the night, just until you... can find another option. Please, let me help you, Jasper.”

He become visible suddenly. His hand was on the work hatch-like door and he was pulling it open. He paused and looked at her, and she was relieved to be able to see his face. He seemed deep in thought, considering his options once again. As she watched, she saw him flinch and growl to himself. She knew then that this was his version of talking to his Beast. They all did it, Annabelle knew, some more vocally than others. She waited to see what he would do, what, if anything he would say in reply.

“Okay,” Jasper said at last.

Part of her was surprised, and almost hadn't expected him to say that. “What?”

“Okay. I'll do it, but... there are conditions.” He ran his tongue over his lips. “I want you to be safe.” He glanced around suddenly, up and down the river. They were alone, but he still seemed spooked. “Let's go inside.”

She nodded and followed him. He held the door open for her, and made sure it was shut tight behind them. He led her through the twisting path down to his living area, through the secret passages. He moved with utter confidence. This was his space. She wasn't hesitant, but she had to admit she was a little nervous.

“This is the first time I've had someone in here... who I've invited,” Jasper said as they emerged into his workshop room. Annabelle saw that Tara's cage was in the corner. She swallowed.

“Why is that still there?”

“The cage? It's very difficult to take that apart. I built it to be very... durable.” he smiled to himself and Annabelle could see his fangs. He was remembering something amusing, something she probably wouldn’t find amusing at all. Her nervousness grew, and doubt bloomed inside her. She found herself involuntarily taking a step back. Jasper saw her reaction and frowned. It was his own fears and doubts coming back to the surface. He hoped that saying yes to Annabelle to let her help him wasn't a mistake.

“Are you going to use the cage again?” she asked him softly.

“I hope I won't have to, but...” he shrugged. She took his unsaid meaning. It's still there if he needs it.

He moved past the cage, towards the pivoting door that lead to his living room. He beckoned Annabelle to follow. He correctly assumed that Annabelle would be glad to be out of the cage room.

Annabelle found his living room was more or less as it was when she, Victor, Nelli and Strikes the werewolf had been through. Some of the books on the table had changed, but the furniture was still sparse. Jasper turned on the lamp and gestured to a chair, offering it to her to sit. She did so. It was fairly comfortable, but in an inexpensive way. Far from any kind of plush leather seating that Victor and Nelli couldn’t seem to do without. Annabelle found her gaze drifting back to the closed metal door on the other side of the room that lead ultimately down to the labyrinth. She swallowed, and tried not to shiver thinking of that place. She forced herself to look at his painted landscapes instead. It was beautiful and sad, to think of someone who spent so much time in the dark tunnels under a modern concrete and glass city to want to admire green, rolling hills instead. Maybe that was why he liked to live near the park as well, she thought.

Jasper sat in another chair near her. He seemed suddenly awkward, unused to pleasant company in his personal space. He pulled his hood back, exposing the black veins that crossed his bald scalp and disappeared down the back of his neck. It was his equivalent of letting his hair down, she supposed, now that they were in the comfort of his sanctum. Annabelle caught herself wondering if the whole rest of his body was darkly veined like that... and surprised herself by some small curious bit of her wanting to see his torso without the black hoodie.

“So, um...” she said, trying to break the awkward tension.

“So...” Jasper said at the same time.

They laughed. Tension broke.

“So... feeding?” Annabelle asked. She wasn't so nervous as to want to back out on her offer to help Jasper.

“Right.” Jasper licked his fangs as he collected his thoughts again. Back on track. He leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Are you're still sure you want to do this?”

“I am,” she said with a nod.

Jasper nodded back. “Okay. So, here's how I want it to go. Just... going to lay out a plan here. I'm only going to take enough from you tonight to keep me going for a little while. I don't think that this should be a reoccurring thing between the two of us.”

Annabelle nodded, agreeing and following along.

“I'm not so hungry yet that I'm about to frenzy like I did before,” Jasper continued, “but I don't want it to get to that point, and I know that you don't either, so that's why I'm agreeing to do this, just this once.”

Annabelle nodded again.

He had been looking at her, but his gaze moved down and away. “I don't think that the others need to know about this.”

“Oh, no. No, I agree.”

He looked at her again, sharply. “Ever.” There was a note of warning in his voice now. “We'll never hear the end of it if they do find out.”

“No, I totally agree. I won't tell anyone. I promise.”

Jasper nodded. “And... if you want... you can count me as owing you a favour afterwards. A boon.” He made air quotes around the word 'boon.'

Annabelle's first instinct was to deny him that. “Oh no, I'm not doing this for-”

“Actually, I insist,” Jasper cut her off. “I owe you one. This is... kind of a big deal. Kindred usually don't take feeding from other Kindred lightly.”

Annabelle nodded. “Okay,” she said softly.

Jasper nodded as well, satisfied. “Take off your jacket, please.”

“Um... okay,” Annabelle stripped off her red leather jacket and lay it over the back of her chair. She was wearing a grey T-shirt underneath with an Anime character printed on it. She was still a little nervous, but now it was a little more excited than fearful. She wondered where this excitement came from.

She could see Jasper considering her body in a way she had never seen him look at her before. His eyes drifted over her neck very, very briefly and settled on her hands. He reached one hand for hers. “May I?” His voice was soft. He was nervous too. He wasn't used to getting permission, or having it given.

“Yes,” Annabelle said, steadying her courage. She offered Jasper her hand. He took it and turned it over to expose her wrist. His fingers were long, pale and cold. He looked into her eyes, one last time, one last chance to back out, but she wasn't going to.

Jasper moved. Without letting go of her wrist and hand, he slid off his chair and down onto one knee on the floor in front of her. He was so tall, his limbs so long, that this was a more comfortable height for him to do this from without her having to move from her chair. It was a submissive gesture she wasn't expecting. He exposed his fangs, his terrifying long, gleaming, dangerous canines and with a tenderness that surprised her, sunk them into her wrist.

She gasped at the sudden pain of it and resisted the instinct to pull her hand back. His grip on her hand wasn't at all strong. He was just using one hand to lightly steady her wrist against his mouth. She could pull away at any time if she wanted to end this early.

She gasped again when the pleasure hit a half a second later. Oh, she wasn't expecting that either, not at all. A kind of ecstasy began to cloud her brain. It reminded her oddly of sexual pleasure, of her first time in bed with Elleanor or Mark, but at the same time not quite the same at all. She had a sudden sensational memory, one she had heavily suppressed until now, of an entirely different set of fangs entering her throat and the smell of well-worn black leather. She could feel her Vitae moving down her arm and into Jasper. Her Beast squirmed in her chest. She could feel something delicious and eager coiling down deep inside her lower belly. If her heart could still beat, it would have been hammering away like a rail road piston going full steam. She wondered if his heart would be doing the same if it could, and decided that yes, yes it would be.

In the haze, she managed to notice a few things about Jasper. His eyes were tightly closed while he fed from her, and his free hand, the one not holding hers to his mouth, was clenched in a tense fist. It was as if he were holding an invisible leash, and whatever was at the other end of that leash was straining against it with all its might. She could feel Jasper's lips, his tongue, his fangs and the rest of his teeth on her, violent and a little disgusting but at the same time, so, so gentle.

She realised suddenly that he was holding back with every ounce of his being. He could bite down harder, she could tell he wanted to, but he was resisting. It was intimate and much more... loving than she imagined. She concluded that none of this was how she pictured it would go. She had a sudden urge to touch him, maybe to caress his head, but her other hand was clinging tightly to the arm of the chair and by the time she wrenched her fingers free, Jasper had let her go. What had seemed to last for ten or fifteen minutes was really only a few seconds.

She felt him run his tongue one last time over the wound he had made to seal it closed and he released her arm. She withdrew it slowly back to her chest, staring at him. She was breathing hard, a left over human reaction to the extreme stimulus she just went through. She felt dizzy and light headed and she was glad they had done this with her sitting down, or she feared she may have swooned like some Victorian lady in a too-tight corset. Her hand trembled, just a little.

Jasper was perfectly motionless for a moment, still on one knee, staring up at her. She could see a faint line of red on his lower lip, which he quickly licked away. He seemed to realise the pose he was in, and lowered his other knee and leaned back so he was still on the ground, but a little further away. He didn't want to be further away from her though. He had been expecting this, and was fighting it back. Both he and his Beast wanted to be closer to her, to be consuming her still. Instead, he was giving her space to recover. He watched her, and waited.

“That was..” she panted. She took another moment to collect herself. “That was good,” she exhaled. “I didn't know it would... feel like that.”

Jasper gave a tiny, humble shrug. “There's a reason why most vampire victims stop fighting once they're bitten.” He cocked his head a tiny bit to the side, still watching her, unblinking. “Did you never notice?” Annabelle would have found it creepy before, but now she found it oddly... adorable.

“Yeah, but... wow...”

Jasper made a small sound of amusement. He smirked a tiny bit. “You'll be dizzy, maybe weak for a little while. I tried not to take too much, but... you should probably feed tonight also, if you can.”

Annabelle nodded. “How do you feel?”

“I feel better.”

He certainly looked better, Annabelle thought. A lot better. She told him as such.

“You look better.”

“Thank you,” he said with feeling, “for letting me...” He gestured toward her.

“You're welcome.” She felt pleased inside, more than just the fading ecstasy, at having helped him. She remembered suddenly Tara saying she had felt that way too, but fought to push that out of her mind.

She must have frowned, because Jasper suddenly looked a little worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just... that was more... it wasn't like what I thought it would be.” Her eyes felt wet and she put a thumb to them to stop any tears before they began.

Jasper moved back onto his chair. “Well,” he said softly, putting a long, pale hand on her knee. He was suddenly more willing to touch her. She wondered if the blood had anything to do with it and knew it likely did. She also noticed that she did not mind the touch, not in the slightest. “It's over now, Annabelle, and we don't have to ever do this again if you don't want to. Thank you again for tonight though.”

She put a hand on his. It was the one he had been sucking from such a short time ago. She smiled at him. “You're welcome,” she repeated. She hesitated, looking at their hands together. The cloud of pleasure had lifted now, but it left an invisible memory on her body and soul. She realised that she would probably not mind at all if they did this again. “Can I ask a weird question?”

Jasper chuckled. He hadn't pulled back from her touch yet and he was a little surprised at himself at that. He hadn't been quite like this with any of the other Kindred he had fed upon in the past. Maybe actually liking the person made all the difference. “Sure. Ask.”

“What do I taste like?” Annabelle asked shyly. Her nose wrinkled adorably. This was just this side of taboo, she knew, but she was so very curious.

Jasper smiled and she saw his fangs again. They were clean. She felt an odd little ache in her wrist. “Are you worried that you don't taste good?”

“No! No, I'm just... curious?”

“You taste good,” he assured her. He almost didn't want to admit it, but it was the truth.

“Better than a dog?”

He laughed out loud, fangs flashing. “Yes, Annabelle, better than a dog. Animals taste... nowhere near as good as other Kindred do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Feeding from you...” he shook his head. He didn't want to elaborate too much on how fucking good her Vitae had tasted, and it had been good. He couldn’t taste any of the terror he had on the others. Terror was delicious, but this was different. He didn't want to scare Annabelle and he was relieved that he hadn't, not really. She had been nervous and excited... in more ways than one.“I could taste your emotions.”

“Oh... you could?” Annabelle squeaked.

He nodded, amused by her reaction.

She put her hand to her mouth, drawing away from him for a moment. “Ah... no, that's cool,” she assured him. “I kind of enjoyed it, so...”

He was very well aware that she did. “Yeah.” He pulled his hand back.

Another little moment of awkwardness set in. “Well... what now?”

“You should probably go home,” Jasper advised. “Feed a little if you want. Don't go using any crazy powers tonight. Please understand, I'm not kicking you out, it's just...” he ran his tongue over his fangs and Annabelle was again finding herself surprised at how oddly aroused that made her feel. She tried to shake it off. It was probably just because the intimate moment they had shared was still so recent. At least, she hoped that was why. “It's just that I think you should have some 'you' time tonight,” Jasper concluded.

Annabelle nodded. “Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” She stood up slowly and yes, she was a little light headed. Jasper rose too, and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. He held up her red jacket for her to slide her arms into, like a gentleman, and she did.

He walked her back to his front door. She didn't even look at the cage on the way past it this time. She was only watching him. At the threshold, they paused.

“See you tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow night. And remember... this is just between us, right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed.

In a stupid rom-com, she realised, this would be a moment for a kiss.

Instead, she pushed the door open. Jasper lingered back in the shadows, but she could see him give her a wave when she looked back. She waved back and made sure the door was closed securely behind her.

She realised she had a text from Victor asking if all was well with her and Jasper. She bit her lower lip in a sudden urge to laugh out loud. She confirmed that she was fine, that Jasper was fine, and they'll see him tomorrow. Then she went home.

#l.a. by night #la by night #vampire the masquerade #jasper/annabelle #annabelle/jasper #fanfic #fanfiction #does this ship have a name yet? because if not i am hereby calling it jaspabelle #times jasper fed from annabelle

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majorxmaggiexboy · 5 years

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i recently remembered a film my brother and i watched several times as children, and that got me thinking about the other stuff we would watch. most of which seems kind of weird on reflection. we don’t actually have any of these anymore, so just for funsicles i’m trying to think of the films and see if i can remember any of the details before actually googling them.

Live Action

Two Brothers - a couple of tiger cubs are captured by poachers or something and separated from each other. one is trained to perform in the circus and is also fed candy by some guy, the circusmaster is an absolute [censored]. the tiger learns to jump through fire which is important later. the other cub is given to a little boy (TERRIBLE IDEA) and is a pet for a while until he’s sold to someone else. the tigers are eventually reunited but then they’re chased by people with guns who try to trap them by setting things on fire BUT because the first tiger learned not to be scared of fire he shows his brother how to jump through it and they escape and are reunited with this other tiger that has a hole in her ear from a really close call with poachers. i think she’s their mom.

Gunther and the Paper Brigade - idk if it was knock-off Newsies or what but like there’s this kid named Gunther whose brother keeps an ant farm and said the line “did you know that all the ants in the world would weigh as much as all the people in the world?” and i think they’d just moved to a new house but Gunther joins some kind of newspaper group and at first he is AWFUL at delivering papers like he just slings em any ol’ place but then he gets into a sort of war with a bully and i think somebody orally siphoned some gasoline at one point and the brother’s ants definitely came into play and in the end Gunther was really good at delivering papers. He rode a bike. at one point he’s hanging out at the mall pretty often for some reason and his brother teases him about it.

Ben Wagner - Uhhh family moves to new town, kid has an older sister and a younger sister, there’s a freaky adult at the school who said the line “Wagner. Waaaagner. I’ve got it. The name is now set. in my. brain....,,..” Benny’s miserable for some reason but he meets a kind of mysterious girl who takes him to visit her elderly relative but to get there they have to walk across a log that’s across a river/waterfall type of situation. the elderly relative says something to the effect that if they all stand on one side of the house it’ll tip over. Ben regularly visits these people. His dad gives him some chores but he half-arses all of them and the dad walks him around to each thing (like the car that was supposed to be washed, the garage that was supposed to be tidied, w/e) and goes “you did a lousy job”. The older sister wants money for something but hasn’t saved up her allowance so she demands money from Ben and says the line “I bet you have tons of money squirreled away”. He goes to visit the mysterious girl and her relative but his little sister follows him and falls off the log bridge so he jumps in the water to save her and he manages it but then they’re both in the hospital.

No More Baths - Guy runs a club for kids and has some rules in place specifically to keep the kids safe but one kid breaks the rules and winds up getting himself hurt so the guy who just wanted to do nice things for the community kids gets straight up ARRESTED and his dog is put in the pound and the whole thing was some racially-motivated bull and the kids aren’t having it so they protest by refusing to bathe and i think they get to testify at the guy’s hearing too and anyway he wins so then the kids go play in some water bc they haven’t washed in weeks.

Goosebumps: Night in Terror Tower: Some dude is a little too enthusiastic about explaining to two children how the Rack works “It stretched, annnd streeettched, unTIL HIS BOOOOOOOOONES, WERE PUUULLLLLLLLED...poP. Right Out Of Their Sockets. :) “ and then those kids get chased around by some dude who wants to kill them or something. they try to buy a bus pass but they have medieval currency and the girl’s like “Our parents wouldn’t give us play money” but then they wind up in like actual medieval England. I think the girl’s name was Sidney.

Bunch of Assorted Wildlife Documentaries: idk there was a thing about an elephant painting and a lot to do with dolphins idk i think there was a bit of Steve Irwin in there too

Cartoons

The Gallivants - like Divergent but with very Orange ants who are assigned a career? or pick out a career? but when they reach adulthood they’re all supposed to develop something called a “kabump” which is like an extra segment for their creepy insect bodies. They wear shoes and their limbs can have either pink stripes or blue stripes. they might wear gloves? anyway the protagonist is named something like “Shando” and he doesn’t develop his “kabump” on time so it’s scandalous. His friends desert him or something. I think he wanted to be a musician and so makes himself a fake kabump but he plays the saxophone a little too vigorously or something and makes it come off, at which point he’s shamed and rejected by literally everyone but at some point he also tries to work in construction but accidentally breaks stuff and is told “You’re not a Con-struct. You’re a DE-STRUCT.” then he wanders around in a labyrinthine cave fighting a two-headed creature called something like, The VanterViper that wants to kill all the baby ants or something at i think in the end he’s appointed like official Mom of all the babies or something of that nature

The Ugly Duckling - Standard retelling of the classic tale, this one was created almost exclusively to sell Crayola products i’m pretty sure. This version has a baby swan just trying to live his best life but then a bunch of [redacted] sing at his adoptive mom about how “one bad apple spoils the batch” and he either runs away or gets kicked out. then he runs into a mouse who wears boots and has red hair and she proceeds to call him “Ugly” as if that’s his name, for the entire rest of the movie. He winds up inside a house at one point and two freaky looking cats sing at him about the importance of having “a high IQ” i think a church burns down and he saves the mouse? over the course of the film he gets more and more swan-like in appearance and maybe works for a theater for a little while and then everyone loves him.

Scamper - a bunch of penguins are trying to hatch their eggs but then they’re attacked by...something....and one penguin feels bad about losing some eggs so he takes someone else’s but then admits what he did and returns the egg to its real parents and everyone mourns the loss of their children while being grateful for the survivors. when the eggs hatch there’s like a little pink penguin and a little bluish penguin and they’re friends, they’re learning to slide during Penguin School but then they get captured and wind up on a boat and there’s a dog. They eat really tasty-looking crackers out of bags and are terrorized by the ship’s crew until they manage to escape and find their way back home to their grieving parents.

Willy the Sparrow - a sick (literally and figuratively) young boy has fun bullying a cat and being a [redacted] to birds but then an elderly woman turns him into a sparrow to teach him a lesson. He meets other birds, all of whom have decidedly human heads of hair, including an old man sparrow who teaches him to fly. he winds up challenging the former child-leader-of-the-sparrows for power using his human smarts to amaze them all and eventually leads an attack on the cat who rightfully holds a massive grudge against him. idk he like helps them find food or something and then gets turned back into a human maybe

The Seventh Brother - a young child is moving to a new place and brings her puppy, but somehow his carrier is knocked out of the car??? or something?? and he winds up lost in the forest but is rescued by a large family of rabbits who teach him how to act like a rabbit. He saves one of them from being carried off by a bird but then begins to die of malnutrition as dogs can’t live on the same diet as rabbits for any length of time. also, he rescues a former tormentor from a creepy-as-hell predator and is badly wounded in the process, prompting the rabbits to band together to get him home to his owner. they succeed and he’s pretty much cured by one (1) bowl of puppy food.

Some Blue’s Clues Special: idk whatever’s the one with the treble-clef and the treasure hunt where the ‘treasure’ turned out to be Steve’s grandma’s cookies that you can tell the exact taste and smell of just by looking at them and also the grandma made an appearance too

That Weird Puppet Cat in the Hat Thing with the grouchy bird who had to be taught how to play pretend but then was pushed into a panic attack when the group was playing pirates and he imagined it too vividly so then they explained that he could change the story at any time and also at one point they played a game called “pass the yawn” and the bird just went OFF more than once

Some cartoon, i think it was Anastasia, where at one point someone’s taking some stuff away and the girl says what on reflection i think might have been “My luggage!” but at the time i thought was “my lungs!” and i spent the whole movie thinking they done straight up confiscated the girl’s lungs.

The Swan Princess - and i remember nothing except the way Odette would say “Darren!” and the fact that she spent a lot of time as a bird and there was a puffin. also Darren was one of my early crushes purely because i liked his name.

The Secrets of NIHM 2: main character’s name was Timothy and was one of the first characters i mentally fanfic’d about. there was some song that was like “Just! say! Yes!” where i think he was being pressured to do drugs or be experimented on or something but mostly i remember him singing “I am my father’s son” and me being so confused thinking “well yeah?? Who else’s son could you be???”

idk some Thumbalina thing all i remember is “Deary! Marry the Mole!”

Friggin’ Barbie Rapunzel there was a purple(?) dragon and Rapunzel liked to paint and that movie was where i learned the word “adequate” and i’m still mad at that woman for being so rude like lady. who raised you. where are your manners. i think the dad dragon wanted the purple dragon to hate humans or something idk

some other film where there was a very definitely purple dragon but i can’t remember any details so it’s just going to haunt me forever but it was like a small-ish purple dragon.

#personal #movies #some of these didn't seem Weird until i started really thinking about them #turning the memory over a few times #in which i remember every movie child!me ever watched apparently #seventh brother was my great-grandad's favorite okay he and my great-grandma loved that one #willy the sparrow was also a frequent flier oh my nO #i have to actually google all these now and i'm gonna yell

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mybumpbirthandbeyond · 3 years

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The Final Few Weeks

I didn’t think I would be writing another blog at this point. To be honest, I contemplated another video update, but I’ve been so out breath and look awful so I figured the best way to express myself would be to hide behind the keyboard this time.

Since I had my midwife appointment at 34 weeks, I felt flat and felt I had come away with more questions than answers. My midwife did in fact come back the very next day to tell me I had a consultant’s review booked for a few weeks’ time. I haven’t had it yet and not sure I’ll share the details of that until after I know what’s happening. These next few weeks I might go to ground a bit as I feel there is so much to get my head around.

I couldn’t figure out why I felt so frustrated and to be honest, quite emotional after that appointment. It dawned on me about a week later. I’m not concerned by a c-section. Of course, I don’t want one, and even contemplating one is miles away from my first birth experience. Some people never get the birth they wanted, and I guess I should be grateful that mine was almost perfect. However, if I’m told it’s best for me and more importantly the baby, it’s a no brainer. I don’t want setbacks in my recovery – I had enough of those the first time around, and I had envisaged this recovery as being much smoother. Let’s face it though, it’s not as if I don’t have help to hand with all the things that that may bring. I’m in touch with three pelvic health physios from the start this time, and I’m relieved and comforted massively by that.

This has been sitting in the back of my mind since I was told I would need a scan. I work towards goals and markers. Each appointment/consult whatever it may be at a time. I’m now in limbo until this appointment. The lightbulb moment came and suddenly I knew the source of my frustration. I have been an example of my physios’ knowledge and advice. I proved their point – that progressive loading of the linea alba improves the function of the abdominal wall and can, improve the aesthetics. That there is no such thing as a bad exercise when it comes to DR. Hundreds of people have liked, shared and engaged with that progress photo of me from November 2019 to May 2020. I have people from all over the world contacting me because physios I have never met have encouraged them to follow my journey. That to me is mind-blowing. I am not anyone important; I am just someone who was unfortunate enough to land in this position and who wanted to share the journey so others wouldn’t feel how I did – lost, isolated and thinking why the hell did this happen to me when everyone else I know is fine? Of those people, some are either pregnant again following diastasis, or are planning future children. They have heard the misinformation and have been questioning much of what I did in the beginning of this pregnancy. I am further along than a lot of these women, and possibly had a more significant diastasis in some cases. I have been asked questions I am not qualified to answer, so of course I asked those who are.

I will never doubt anything my physios tell me. They have never and I believe they will never, tell me anything not backed up either by their own experience, or knowledge. I trust them implicitly and I would defend anything they do or say to the end. Which is probably a good thing, because all I feel I have been doing is defending what they say. Every midwife appointment has been focused on my tummy. How big it is, how weird it is, how hard it is to find the baby and the baby’s heartbeat. How they’ve never seen a tummy like mine, how they have no idea what the baby’s position is. If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it 100 times (and that’s just during the one appointment). I thought the novelty would eventually wear off, but it hasn’t and it’s chipping away at me slowly and has been since the start. I get comments from family members and every damn time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded how big I am and what’s no doubt going on internally.

At my most recent appointment my midwife had another midwife with her helping. This other midwife clued in to what was going on because my midwife asked how my physio appointment went (I had my last in person consult with Lyndsey after I saw my midwife at the previous antenatal appointment). The other midwife took on the task of the baby’s position and heartbeat. My own midwife gave the running commentary – for about the 50th time, I was told about the issues with baby’s position due to separation, followed by, “but your physio says that’s rubbish eh?” I wearily said yes. The other midwife measured me at 37 weeks then asked how many weeks I was. 34. “I’m just going to measure that again. Yup, 37 weeks.” I had jumped massively from the last time. She had no idea about the lie, so once again the baby was marked breech. Alarmingly, she took about 5 minutes to find the heartbeat, and even at that, my midwife had to come and take over. I don’t think it can be underestimated how much those 5 minutes felt like a lifetime. While they are amusing themselves over my tummy, I’m lying there waiting for them to find my baby’s heartbeat. I felt like screaming I don’t give a shit about my tummy can we focus on what’s important?! You won’t be surprised to learn a tubi-grip was also mentioned, as they remarked with sympathetic looks, that they would just love to be able to lift my tummy up for me. I swear they’re going to have to come up with another name for tubi-grip, because if I hear that word one more time in my life, I’ll explode!!

They told me that if they waited until my next appointment to refer me to the Consultant, it might be too late. The decision was taken to speak to the Consultant and the Consultant would see me instead of my midwife at around 37 weeks. Thankfully, despite leaving with more questions than answers, I didn’t have to wait long. The next day I was given my appointment.

I was pretty emotional that day. I teared up a few times and had no idea why. My husband couldn’t even understand it and I couldn’t explain it. As I say, a week later it came to me. I have been chipped away at slowly at every appointment and with every appointment, it has challenged my resolve and my belief in what my physios told me: that there is no evidence to support the fact that diastasis causes issues with the baby’s position for labour and birth. I believe in what they say and I have no problem with telling anyone else the same information. In fact, I have passed this on to women with DR who are pregnant and asking the same questions. Everyone else however, is trying to convince me otherwise. My baby could be breech for hundreds of reasons and I could need a c-section for hundreds of reasons, but what bothers me the most is, if my baby is breech, and if I do need a c-section, everyone will put it down to my diastasis. My midwife, the Consultant, and some of the people who have tried to tell me otherwise. Worst of all, some of the women in my position, who have been told similar by medical professionals, will believe it was due to my diastasis.

My job is to prove my physios right. Yes, I worked hard; yes, I wholly complied with everything and that was never in doubt; but it was their guidance, advice and knowledge that led me to making progress shared throughout the pelvic health community and by physios from all over the world. I will defend everything they say until the end and I have no issue with that. I don’t want to fail them, ever. Having a c-section as a result of a breech baby will feel like a failure if everyone just assumes it’s because of my diastasis.

There is a chance at this appointment I will be told my baby is breech. I will not accept external cephalic version (ECV). It has only a 50% success rate and it may cause the baby distress and sure as hell will be uncomfortable for me. In that scenario, I will likely be told I need a c-section. The chances are I will then be against the clock to help this baby turn before a final decision is taken. If that happens, I want the women who are in my position, or are considering pregnancy after diastasis and those who have contacted me – I want you to do the difficult thing and ignore the white noise. Don’t let what may happen to me place doubt in your head. A baby could be breech for literally hundreds of reasons. As my friend pointed out – the diastasis is only making it hard for my midwife to determine the baby’s position; it doesn’t mean it’s the reason for the baby’s position. The baby is in the uterus, not the abdominal wall. The uterus has muscles and its job is to birth the baby, not your abdominal wall. As my physios pointed out – I had a diastasis in my first pregnancy - I just didn’t know it - and my labour and birth could not have gone better. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a team like mine, or access to the incredible knowledge that they have, I get that. However, that’s why I’m sharing it – so you too don’t go down the rabbit hole that all the fear-mongering about diastasis brings.

I will share my birth story when the time comes, whatever that may be. It may be some weeks after the event. I will continue to wear that thick skin for the last few weeks of pregnancy. It’s becoming a real struggle, both mentally and physically now, and everywhere I go (literally once a week to shops or on dog walks) I’m getting those questions and comments on the size and due date, and do I think I’m making my due date. Quite impressive that I’m not out that often and I can still be engaged in those conversations. It’s not the first time I’ve had to endure comments – that came with my first pregnancy and then with my diastasis. I shouldn’t have to, but I have done and no doubt will continue to do so. That’s why it will be survival mode for the final weeks. I will do everything I can to shield myself and keep myself, and my environment as positive as possible. I will probably go quiet over the next couple of weeks to preserve my focus, energy and what little strength I have left for whatever is to come. If you need to reach out, do so and I will get back to you when I can.

Sending you all love and best wishes.

Claire xx

#mybumpbirthandbeyond #secondpregnancy #diastasisrecti #diastasisinpregnancy

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unkindnessofone · 7 years

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5SOS. Ice Cream

This story gets a touch smutty in the middle. Just a warning. It was fun to write, please enjoy and let me know what you think! This story takes place right after Primal & Primal 2

"I don't like this." Sounding like a little kid just put on a time out in the corner, Ashton muttered to Simone as he stuffed a small white plastic spoon into his dish of half eaten frozen yogurt.

"Really?" Very concerned, Simone looked up at him. "Do you want to go back?" She stood still on the sidewalk for a moment, patting the phone in the pocket of her sweater as it had been buzzing all day. "We could switch. The hazelnut is quite nice." She offered up her dish to him, reaching it closer to his face.

"Not the frozen yogurt." He frowned and scooped himself up another bite of French vanilla with cookie crumbs. "This." He motioned to the walking couple ahead of them, Molly and Flynn, under the transforming sky.

"Oh, come on, Ash." She huffed at him with a head shake. "I thought dinner was lovely." Somehow throughout their meal, Simone had slipped deeper into her most posh English accent. Ashton figured it was because Flynn practically interviewed her about what it was like to grow up in Maida Vale and some of her favourite old London haunts.

Truthfully, Ashton couldn't really complain about dinner. His salmon was cooked to perfection, his wife didn't answer a single text, and Molly's partner came across as genuinely in awe of her. Most importantly, she was obviously happy. Ashton wasn't sure if he had ever seen his daughter beam before, but across from him at their corner table he saw her face radiate joyfully every time Flynn said her name or "Molls" as he had taken to calling her with great affection. He showed a plethora of interest in Ashton's latest musical adventures, Simone's company, and their son's current opening act gig. It was clear that Flynn had been raised in a house where manners reigned supreme. He shared with them, well Simone mostly, about his mother's Samoan background and learning to fish and play rugby with his Dad over in Perth. Ashton knew he should have been thrilled. His intelligent daughter had once again made an excellent choice for herself, but he wasn't happy at all. He had a cup full of frozen yogurt, but a pout that not even a picture of his beloved dogs could improve.

"They are so fond of each other. It's sweet. It's nice to see Molly branching out and dating." She never mingled much in high school. Her goals went beyond sexual attraction and beach dates like many of her fellow classmates. While Simone was always proud of how tenacious and focused her eldest was, she still wanted her to make connections and find a partnership somewhere.

"I don't care for it." Like a grump, he snarled. Ashton was generally such a pro at finding the silver lining, but this felt like was walking through feet upon feet of fog. He stared with squinted eyes at the young couple ahead of them. He watched as Flynn tossed his cup out in a recycling bin they passed and then draped his oversized arm around Molly's shoulder. At dinner, he showed how gentle he was, but all Ashton's mind could do was strange a list of all the easy ways Flynn O'Malley could hurt his precious daughter.

"Exercise some trust. Molly's very smart." Playfully, Simone jabbed Ashton in his side. "Well, at least when she isn't tying herself up into trees, she is." Simone would be trying to make sense of that decision for a while.

"I can trust her and not like something she is doing at the same time." Ashton liked being the only good guy in Molly's life as selfish and, perhaps, demented as that was. He knew kissing frogs and meeting new people was part of being a very young adult, but that didn't change how badly he wanted to keep her safe from how painful those novelties could be.

"You're right." Slipping her hand into Ashton's once they passed by the recycling bin and she had disposed of her litter, Simone bent. "My dad didn't like you at all in the beginning." However, Simone remembered feeling that at the time he also really didn't trust her because of that.

"What?!" That was enough to pull Ashton away from painting a mental bullseye on Flynn's very chiseled back. "Arthur loves me!" He nearly shouted as he looked at his beautiful wife like she was spewing nonsense.

"He didn't always." Frowning with a shrug, Simone practically swore. "He wanted me to focus on my business and saw a rockstar from Australia as a waste of time and reckless. He called you all kinds of horrible things." They were not impressed by what they collected about Ashton through online gossip. Her parents had always imagined she would take up with someone who was Eton educated and knew the difference between a salad fork and an entree fork.

"Simmie, this is already a horrible day, why are you telling me this?" Very seriously, Ashton asked her. He always looked at her dad as a father figure to himself. He truly respected Simone's parents and had always strived to do right by their daughter. It was news to Ashton that for even a moment, Arthur Telford thought he was scum.

"Because he knew you made me happy and that we were good together!" She continued. "I know your mother thought I was stuffy at first."

"No, she didn't." Shaking his head, he insisted.

"She told me years ago that she did." Simone didn't mind in the slightest. "My point is that we don't get to pick who Molly and Connor take up with. We raised great people and we are going to love them through whatever choices they make even if they choose to tie themselves to trees or pine after Penelope Hemmings."

Like she almost always was, Simone was right and Ashton knew it. It was just an adjustment that he hadn't arrived in Canberra ready for. He was still internally burning that she didn't rush into his arms and thank him for saving her. His hero complex that Molly always indulged was left unfufilled.

"He flew from Gold Coast to be here. He missed a training day to be there for her." Sim leaned into Ashton as he squeezed her hand, smiling at her daughter up ahead as she caught a glimpse of her grinning at something Flynn said the way she used to on the way to the zoo. "Reminds me of an old boyfriend I had." She waited for Ashton to look down at her before grinning back up at him, not at all hiding how happy their memories made her. "Look past the rugby player physique and everything else, just to try to be happy that right now she's happy and is with someone who seems to think she is perfect."

"Haven't we talked about this?" With his cup in only one hand, the contents inside mostly melted, Ashton tossed his arm around his wife's shoulder and let go of holding her hand. He craved her much closer. "You're not allowed to be right more than twice per conversation." Ashton didn't always find it so easy to admit that she was right and he was wrong. They had really come so far together and been through a whirlwind.

He noticed Molly turn around and check on them and instead of scowling, Ashton just shot her a dorky thumbs up. He knew he and Simone had a healthy marriage, albeit strange, and he knew that Molly would not settle for less than what she deserved from people. He just had to get with the program and then everything would be okay.

*****

For a girl who loved to be clean and carried around alcohol wipes and hand sanitizer in her purse, Simone wore her dirty hands proudly. Three was nothing quite like an afternoon tucked into her studio where she slipped into a work rabbit hole and fulfilled orders or new creative ideas rolling around in her mind. It took less than ten minutes each time for her fingers to be coated with black oil and shiny grey grime from widdling together her different jewelry pieces.

She was concentrating so contently on creating one of her most beloved ring stacks, the Palisades, with ethically sourced diamonds over its usual peridots for a custom order that she hadn't noticed the sun had stopped floating through the window. It was almost ten o'clock and it took a terrifying thud against her front door followed by the bell ringing repeatedly to make her look up from her work and realize that she hadn't eaten since tea with her mother earlier in the day.

She wasn't expecting guests, but Simone wiped her hands on the rag closest to her and checked her cell phone for any missed messages. There was only notifications for emails through her website. She didn't have any missed calls or texts, not even from Ashton, her best friend, or older brother or younger sister. She hummed curiously to herself and kept trying to wipe at her filthy hands with the rag as she moved out of the spare bedroom that she had transformed into a studio and went to answer the door that was still being abused.

She checked in her peep hole to see who in the Hell was making so much noise. Simone felt a even, but complicated mixture of relieved and worried when she saw Ashton on the other side. Was he okay? Why was he even here? Her mind raced as she hurried to unlock the chain on her door and then the deadbolt. Her internal monologue also contemplated how dreadful she currently felt. She had been fighting off a tickle of a sniffle for a couple days. She and Ashton had only been together a smattering of times and known one another for a few months, Simone realized this would be the first time he would see her without makeup on. She had on black yoga leggings and an oversized Chelsea FC tshirt on that had been gift from someone who didn't know her terribly well. Why couldn't he have come before when she was still in the business casual outfit she put together for tea?

"I'm about to open the door." Holding the knob, Simone informed him. He was knocking with one fist so frantically that she felt confident he would fly forward and crash into her if she just swung it open. Once the banging ceased, she pulled it open and revealed herself in all her casual glory.

Ashton stood nervous in front of her, anxiety and exhaustion slicked over his face, but he looked like he was melting as his smile brightened and eyes softened at the sight of her. Simone didn't realize, but her cheeks began to hurt from grinning as hard as she could when she saw him. It took her a handful of seconds to realize that his non-knocking hand was holding a bouquet of autumn hues as it was just October as of two days ago. The sunflowers, coral roses, and orange alstroemeria shone brightly in his hand. It was bizarre that she had noticed his toothy nervous smile first.

"I thought you were in Canada or something." Simone relaxed and shared. She was in the middle of stepping out of the way when she heard Ashton take a huge deep breath. She looked up just in time to spot his face right in front of hers, coming forward in one single motion to kiss her madly. He was like a sailor back home after being away for months at a time. The brown paper holding the flowers crinkled against her back as they moved deeper into her flat, their lips never parting as their hands gripped at one another's shirts. Behind Ashton, her front door slammed, but it was practically distant background noise to him.

"I don't want to be away from you anymore." His forehead leaned against hers and Ashton took his first breath away from her mouth to admit that. She was occupying all his thoughts in a way that nothing besides music and boobs had before. He always wanted to check in with her, he didn't like ending his day without hearing how hers was going first, and he had started considering how she would feel before he did just about anything that wasn't playing the drums, signing autographs, or taking his morning piss. She had devoured his thoughts despite rarely getting to spend more than a couple days together at a time. They were casual thanks to the travel aspect of his career, but he wanted so much more from the jewelry designer.

"As soon as the show was done, I hopped on a plane and flew here." He explained, laughing in his uneven breath at how crazy the last seven hours had been. Ashton truly didn't know what time it was anywhere. "I missed you, Sim." He sighed and kissed her again. "Oh shit, I brought you flowers." He had picked them up from Heathrow as soon as he landed, wishing he had brought all the small things he had picked up along his travels for her. Ashton fisted them forward, making them the only thing between their bodies.

"Thank you." For the first time, Simone looked away from his engaging stare and took in the bouquet he picked, breathing in the scent and admiring the colours. It made her long for a Sunday roast with some kind of spiced pie, but she kept that to herself. "You could have just called." Shaking her head at him, Simone tried to inform him of what he already knew. She slinked away from him in order to rest the flowers on the black coffee table. "You didn't have to fly all this way -" With his schedule, she knew they probably only had a handful of hours together.

"Then I couldn't do this." From behind, Ashton wrapped his arm around her waist and turned her to face him. In one swift movement, he indulged the adrenaline that forged ahead of his exhaustion and picked her up so her legs wrapped around him. Her delighted gasp only made him feel more encouraged as he walked them both into her immaculately kept mostly white with some champagne tones bedroom. His mouth was stretched open on her neck the whole eleven steps in before he dropped her off somewhat in the bed's center.

The two of them had slept together before, just a handful of times. Ashton had felt surprised by how sexual Simone was. He had expected a good girl who would be repulsed by some of the positions he liked best or even his darker fantasies, but she really was his match. In some ways, she was his match with better stamina. She encouraged his fingers to dig in deeper, for his hands to push her into the bed harder, and for his mouth to call her a bevy of names that he would never associate with her outside of the bedroom. Ashton had finished himself off more times than he could count at the memory of perfectly polished London girl removing her red skin tight La Perla thong and then stuffing into his mouth before going down on him. While Ashton loved that she was just as turned on by rough sex as he was, he had something else in mind. Simone had long since stopped being a woman he was infatuated with. He had finally given up on the notion that she was too good for him and would soon catch onto that. Ashton knew that he was so deeply in love with her that he was almost drowning. He wanted her to know that now.

Simone inched up the bed, searching without looking for pillow, as Ashton climbed onto the mattress and followed her. He leaned in over her and inhaled deeply right above her hips before running both his palms over her legging covered thighs.

"You smell like home." He told her in a longing moan before he started to peel off her bottoms, bringing her black underwear from Primark with them. She felt so desired that she could have been wearing a hospital gown and felt sexy. Ashton's hands had a way of making her feel like she was the most important person in the room. His thumbs pushed into her thighs and he used his grip to push her legs back, bringing her bare knees to her stomach. He took his hands off of her long enough to fish his arms out of the sleeves of his denim button up and then pulled his white undershirt over his plane hair. Ashton's hands returned to under her thighs, holding her legs back before he pushed himself in and kissed her warm pussy just as he had kissed her upon arrival. Ashton had every intention of going slow, nibbling around her legs and teasing her entrance with long licks and rubbing at her small clit with two fingers the way he knew she couldn't help, but love. Once he saw her revealed to him, he couldn't control himself. He just had to devour her like she was his first real meal in days. Ashton practically sucked at her walls before sliding one finger in, curling it upward and grinning proudly into her as he felt her tighten and ass come closer. She was whispering his name up to the ceiling fan and Ashton knew she liked it. He let her stretch out her legs before running his free hand over her vulva. He thought it was so cute that even though they hadn't been around one another in almost a month, she still kept herself trimmed and tidied for herself. A small strip of hair right above where her clit was hiding. There was nothing he didn't notice about her from her patch of freckles under her belly button, to the way her whispers moved into slurs when he lapped at the bottom of her opening, to how she said she liked one sugar in her tea and didn't seem to notice she always put in two packets. Ashton could pen a book about the jeweller and, right now, he was using his tongue to write it inside of her.

"Baby, let me look after you." She struggled for a second and then hoisted herself up on her elbows, watching him as he dedicated his jaw to her pussy. She had been amused before, but now he had her dripping wet and sparkling off of his stubbly chin. "I want you in my mouth." It wasn't so much about returning the favor. Simone just liked hollowing out her cheeks to fit him. It made her feel powerful to work him with her tongue and lips, to have lose himself just because of the way she flicked at his tip over and over like a hungry orphaned kitten. Besides, he had flown all the way there. A blowjob seemed like the least she could do despite how much she wanted to.

"Soon enough, babe." He moaned between her lips before raising himself up and crawling over top of her. Ashton snaked up her shirt with both hands to help it over her head. He had noticed when she opened her door that she wasn't wearing a bra, but he appreciated it more so now as he had full access of his favourite parts of her to fondle. "I'm going to have you on your stomach," he growled into her ear before sucking on the top of the line, feeling the shivers it always created suddenly grow from her skin. "And on your sides and with your face against the window above your bed," Ashton rattled off all the places he was going to take her tonight, each position. They didn't have a lot of time and he would make the most of what they did have. "I want to be sure you can still feel me when I see you again." It was supposed to be in another week and a half, but he seriously doubted he could make it that long.

"That better be a promise, Ashton Irwin." Her head had been turned on the pillow to better hear every word he was saying and feel every kiss he put on her cheek, jaw, clavicle, and now over her erect nipple. At the sound of words and the way she fidgeted her chest. He bit down on he left breast and didn't let go until after her gasp had disappeared in the room.

As Ashton moved back down, squeezing her sides slowly and kissing her hip bones as he did, Simone forgot all about her dirty fingers and reached down to grip his hair and play in the near-curly locks as he went back to his very private conversation with her pussy.

****************************

Ashton could have slept right away afterwards. The thrill of seeing Simmie fled his body when he finally released his load and now he was struggling to keep his eyes open under her covers. His body was used to five star hotel beds by now, but her mattress was plenty comfortable for him. She had memory foam and he swore it could recall the shape they took together cuddling on their sides the few times he had managed to stay over before. Simone was reinvigorated with energy and inspiration. Ashton had made her cum three times, the final blowout along with him which felt intense and ardent, and now she could invest herself in a home renovation or attend an exercise boot camp. Instead, she walked through her apartment naked and went to make tea for their afterglow as well as find a vase and water for the flowers he brought her. Simone entered the room again with the flowers in front of her face, placing them down on the window sill behind the headboard of her bed. She glanced down at Ashton's most sleepy face, fighting with himself to keep his eyes partially open.

“I'm a fan of this.” In a low tone, he told her as her breasts hung in his face. She wished they could be perkier, but at the end of the day, she was quite happy with her body and all it's dimensions and surprises. Simone had a beyond healthy dose of self confidence and it was, perhaps, the most appealing thing about her. Ashton also loved the way she could talk to anyone, handled her business, and could make any curse word sound like a compliment.

“How much time do we have?” She slid down under the covers that he opened for her and let him move in to rest his head on her bare chest. It felt better than any feather pillow ever could. Instinctively, she combed at his hair with three fingers and stared off at her wall, bare since she had moved her whiteboard, bulletin board of inspiration and thank you cards, and her most recent family portrait into her office. Ashton's eyes were shut as he breathed in the smell of her sweet hair mist her hair fallen around her shoulders.

“I have a flight at about 4 in the morning.” He had wanted her, no, required her so badly before that he hadn't wanted to mention it and cloud their time together with a ticking clock. “We have a show in Calgary.”

“Well, this was a very nice surprise.” She nodded and chose to look on the bright side. He was her with her right now.

“I'm in love with you, Sim.” He yawned, turning to make himself more comfortable and sandwiching his face between her breasts.

“I know. You said so about three times during sex.” She giggled freely and kissed the top of his head. While things were moving fast, she understood that this was novel ground for them both. “I'm quite crazy about you as well.” Simone rested her cheek onto the top of his head.

“That's good enough for me.” Ashton yawned again. “It doesn't change the fact that I'm going to marry you very soon, we're going to have five kids, two dogs, and a place here, in Sydney, and probably one more. You do a lot of work in New York, right?”

Simone had to tell herself not to howl with laughter. Ashton was taking being adorable while being sleepy to a whole different place.

“Well, where's my ring?” Playing along, Simone asked with her face still squished against the top of his head.

“I've looked.” He admitted openly through his drowsiness. It was fast, all his friends thought so, but Ashton knew that it was her for him. He didn't care that it would be the last beautiful girl he ever bedded or that it would change his life entirely. In fact, with her, that was what he wanted. “It's very hard to find a ring when the girl you want to marry designs jewelry.” She was always wearing her own creations and he couldn't exactly blame her. She was talented and her pieces were in demand.

“Well, you could just design something and I could make it.” Sweetly, Simone suggested.

“Maybe.” Ashton yawned and blew his warm breath against her right breasts before sinking deeper into sleep. The battle to stay awake was barely being fought anymore. “I've never designed a ring before.” His mind did have plenty of ideas to create from though. They always had that in common: their endless creativity.

“Just rest, darling.” She sat up a touch straighter and kissed the top of his head. “Wait, Ash?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too.” She decided now was the right time to say it. It was what she was feeling. He was the reason she was being bubblier than usual. He was the one she anticipated talking to every day. He was the joy between a frustrating meeting or phone call.

In response, Ashton wrapped his arms around her stomach like she was a body pillow and kissed her breast, softer than before.

Simone knew the kettle was going to start whistling in her kitchen soon, but she was trapped under Ashton and she didn't want to move.

#ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #simone irwin #molly irwin imagine #molly irwin #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin smut #5sos au #5sos imagine

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prettiestsupersoldier · 7 years

Text

Better Than Before

5k+ words

AN:This was supposed to be posted damn near 2 weeks ago but so many distractions the Kingsman trailer eggsy my love and my favorite video game getting an update and school to a much lesser degree than the first 2. also my laptop hates Buckys name now so that great and I still suck at endings and titles and writing in general

The first part A year and Six Months

@babemichael

Friday afternoon to Sunday night Bucky isn’t an Avenger he is a dad with a daughter. A daughter that loves piggy back rides and stories before bed. A daughter who hates apples but loves carrots more than any bunny rabbit in the world.

“Daddy!!” The now 2 and a half year old screeches in a fit of giggles as Bucky chases behind her. Her tiny legs carrying her as fast and as far as they can away from him.

It had been a long almost 2 years for you and Bucky after being away for so long it was a little weird in the beginning. He was insistent that you stay for longer than the few days you had intended so he could get to know everything he had missed out on in the year and 6 months you had been away. He was more then happy to take care of all the diapers Jamie had while you were there “A few poopy diapers is nothing compared to what you’ve had to deal with.” and any late night feeding he was more than ready to jump up and go get a bottle.

“Princess, I'm gonna get you!” He's a few steps behind her and there's a giant smile on his face. He hasn't been as happy as he is now in such a long time. There are toys all over his floor of the tower. His once plain black bed sheets and cover are now a bright purple with Doc McStuffins on them. There are crayon drawings on every appliance in his kitchen. There’s an abundance of princess dresses and crowns in his room closet. His kitchen that once only contained the bare minimum, A few beers, plums, and leftover take out, was now stocked with vegetables, dinosaur chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese and any other thing a growing almost 3 year old could ever possible want. His once bare and empty floor is now full of color and life.

There's a shriek that snaps Bucky back to the present and he sees his daughter tumbling forward. She's tripped over one of her monstrous toys uncle Tony insisted she needed to have, he isn't sure which one but in his opinion they are all death traps. He leaps the few feet that it takes to get to her before she can fall, both arms braced for her to fall into him. There is a small squeak from the impact of her falling into his arms but no tears which was always a good sign.

“I'll always be here to catch the princess before she falls” He smothers her face with kisses and tiny bites as he tickles her sides and makes his way back to his room for bed.

“Now, bedtime so we can see mommy tomorrow.” He says as he pulls out her favorite paw patrol pajamas.

‘Family Day’ had been hands down the best idea Bucky had ever come up with. He knew it was pushing the limit when he asked for you guys to spend an entire saturday together and he was sure you would tell him no there was no point in you being around while he spent time with Jamie, but you hadn’t, you wanted the best for your child and a full day with both parents just having fun and being a family you felt was the best for her because even if you and Bucky couldn't make a relationship work you could still be a family.

She pouts and he swears you must have taught her that. The way her bottom lip sticks out and her eyes get all shiney. It's your pout the one that you gave him when you asked to go out for a late night walk at 2 in the morning because you were convinced the fresh air and quiet atmosphere would help you sleep better ( It did help you sleep better because the second you got to the park and sat down on the bench you were fast asleep and bucky had carried you all the way back home, when you woke up the next morning you didn't remember going for the walk and bucky didn't bring it up completely happy with the memory of carrying your sleeping form all the way back to the tower.). He helps her jump into her shorts and pulls the shirt over her head. He can’t help but to laugh as her tiny hands search for the arm holes.

“Story.” She was so tired and he heard it all in her voice the way it got softer and the way her sentences completely cut off to only a few words. Saw it in her actions she got cuddlier and more affectionate, and bucky thought of how you used to get that way when you got sleepy or sick. Then his mind wondered to what you must have been like all big and pregnant, how you must have been so adorable, wondered who you cuddled with when you were almost due, wondered if there was another person who laid besides you and rubbed your back the way you liked. He didn’t like to think about that, didn’t like to remember that it was his own fault he wasn’t there.

“How about I tell you a special bedtime story?” He hated thinking about you with someone else and then he thought that there must have been a time when you felt that way.

She crawls over to him and settles her tiny body into the space between his neck and metal arm. In the past he would have tried to move her over to his human arm out of fear of hurting her, but he's learned a lot in this year and the fact that she loves his metal arm almost as much as you had is always his favorite to remember.

“peas?” Her tiny voice asks and he can't say no, never wanted to tell her no.

“Anything for you.” And it true he would do anything at all if she asked. So he begins quietly telling the only story he could think of. The day you met.

He remembered that day more vividly than anything else. It was early maybe 4 in the morning when he and Steve had come back to the tower and of course F.R.I.D.A.Y. wasn't going to let them just sneak in. There had been a short but loud alert to let the team know that they had arrived back and as the team filled out from the back bucky had taken a mental note of everyone. Natasha didn’t even look a little bit tired and that terrified him. Clint looked dead on his feet and that seemed pretty normal for him. Tony Bruce and Rhodey all looked like they hadn’t even been to sleep yet. Then you walked in leaning heavily onto Thor's broad back You had been almost invisible standing behind the giant asgardian but he saw you. He couldn't stop looking at you.

He remembered your hair being a mess and all over your head. He would always tell you he liked your hair any way you did it but when it was a mess that was his favorite it reminded him of that moment. You had dried up drool in the corner of your bottom lip clearly F.R.I.D.A.Y. had interrupted a good deep sleep. Your pajama shirt was riding up your belly and your shorts were practically twisted all the way around our legs.

“She was so pretty.” He sounded like he was in a daze and he kind of was remembering how you couldn't even keep your eyes open when he and Tony had made amends that night. He remembered how you cuddled up on the couch after that and refused to be moved until morning when you woke up again. He knew his daughter wasn't listening at this point by the soft even breathing coming from her. He kissed her cheeks one final time before picking her up and laying her down on the bed next to him.

“Ready to go home?” You ask reaching for your daughter. It was now Sunday evening and the family day was over and you were beyond tired. Jamie had insisted she wanted to go see the puppies at the park after breakfast and he couldn't say no to her and you couldn't say no to either of them so you went, and you and he had spent the entire day chasing after her as she ran with the dogs.

“Stebie…” Her tiny voice whines as she holds on to Steve's shirt for dear life. This is Bucky’s least favorite part about weekend visits. When you guys have to leave after family day and you have to say goodbye and he comes to the crushing realization that after all this time you still aren't back where he knows you belong. That you still don't go to bed next to him every night or wake up next to him every morning any more.

“You know you guys are always welcome to stay here for a few extra days.” Steve says rubbing circles into Jamie's back and giving quick glances to his left at Bucky who was staring off into space.

“That would be great but I don't have any clothes here.” You would love to stay at the tower it had been such a long time and you honestly missed the team so much. Having late night drinks and movies with Natasha and Wanda. Annoying Tony with Clint and Scott. You missed them all and it would be so nice to finally spend time with them again.

When you looked at Steve and Bucky again you saw his lips move but didn't hear exactly what he’d said.

“What'd you say buck?” You asked honest curiosity evident in your voice.

“Of course you still have clothes here how could I throw them out?”

“I … uh I said that...” He was floundering and he needed help bad.

“He said we can find something for you to wear around here.” Steve provides without missing a beat and if he wasn't already eternally indebted to Steve he is now.

“Well then I guess it's settled.” You said as you smiled up at the three of them.

After you and Bucky put Jamie to bed, her insisting that she wanted to sleep in her room of the tower next to her favorite uncle Steve’s (“Why doesn't she love me as much as she loves capsicle?! I sneak her cookies all the time! IT'S NOT FAIR!!” “You're a grown man Tony.” “WHO NEEDS LOVE AND AFFECTION!”), you both went your separate ways.

You went off to one of the many spare rooms in the tower a hot shower was calling to you. You were sweaty and hot and your bones were aching after running around with Bucky and your daughter. Luckily with all the running she did Jamie would definitely sleep through the night.

Less than 5 minutes after you had gotten out of your shower there was a knock on the door and before you could even get up to open it, it had been flung open revealing a very excited looking Natasha and avery apologetic looking Wanda.

“I have rum and vodka!” Natasha sings as she shuts the door behind them with her socked foot.

“Wanda has popcorn and oreos let's do this!!”

So that's how you spent the next few hours with the girls laughing at stories about the the team, your team that you missed. You would occasionally pipe in with stories about Jamie when she came up and both Nat and Wanda would tell you how lucky you were to have such a beautiful baby girl.

“Do you know how awful it was watching the winter fucking soldier mop around this place? It was terrible.” Natasha said face first into the bed sheets.

You laughed bitterly at that. You couldn't imagine Bucky being upset over you not being around after what hed done. You had on several occasions thought about what and who he had been up to while you were away. How many people he had in his bed. How often he would go out looking for a new person to keep his bed warm and it made you sick to your stomach every time you thought about a new person in his bed.

“He didn't do what you're thinking.” Wanda stated before standing up from the floor.

You must have looked like a deer in headlights when you whipped your head around to look at her.

“After you left he didn't have anyone else. He told the woman not to ever come back and kicked her out and then … then there was no one else.” She said looking cheerfully in your direction before pulling Natasha to her feet.

“We better get out of here it is super late good night!”She called out as he hurried her Natasha from your room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is Sergeant Barnes in his room?” you asked the AI unite as you checked the time. It was barely 3:30.

“Not yet Miss he is leaving the common room from talking to ones Mr. Wilson and Captain Rogers.”

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.” you replied before you collapsed onto the bed fully intending on getting some sleep but you couldn't. You needed to talk to Bucky.

Bucky on the other hand had gone in search of Sam and Steve for much needed advice. He found them not long after he started his search in the living area of the tower watching some terrible movie he didn’t know the name of. He plants himself on the opposite couch from both sam and steve and stares down at his hands.

“I need help with Y/N.” He didn't need to look up from hands to know that they were staring at him so he just kept talking.

“I know that I've always wanted a family I … I can remember always wanting a family with a girl I couldn't get enough of. A big one with lots of kids and a dog or two.”

“Yeah Buck you always talked about it when we were coming up.”

“I never wanted to be a ‘baby daddy’ or have a ‘baby mama’ I wanted to be married and to have a wife. Y/N was what I wanted and only Y/N. I want my best girl back.” He dared to look up now. Steve was still looking at him but Sam had turned his attention back to the TV.

“You missed that train dude.” Sam said flipping through some channels on the TV.

“Sam.” Steve warned.

“Buck are you sure you wanna tell her all of this now? What if she still needs time?” Bucky looked over at Steve to see if he was serious about what he'd said. He couldn't possibly be he had waited way longer than he needed to and he was ready to tell you. He had too.

“What!? He's already wasted so much time sitting on his ass and moping. I’m surprised she hasn't moved one yet. A gorgeous girl like her with such a cute kid if she wanted to she could have definitely done better by now.”

“Sam stop. Buck why don't you just wait it out a little longer.”

“No Steve. He's been sitting around here waiting for too long expecting us all to feel sorry for him because the light of his life left him. News flash dude no one told him to be balls deep into the next woman. If he felt the way he says he does, as bad as he says he does then he should grow up and act like it. Tell her. Now or never.”

Having Sam give him an ultimatum like that put more of his thoughts into perspective. Sam was definitely the hardest on him after you left and Buck had assumed it was because he was the one who had known you outside of the avengers first but after a few months Sam had confronted him about his actions. Sam had screamed at him for nearly an hour and a half about how he’d let the best thing that ever happened to walk out and he was forced to listen to him. Listened to him yell that he had never seen Bucky happier than when you were around.

“He's right.” Bucky said getting up from his seat on the couch. He'd made his decision, he was gonna tell you tonight come hell or high water.

By the time he made it back to his floor all he could think about was telling you everything. He wanted to talk about all the ways he had messed up from the tiniest things like leaving his clothes in the washing machine for days at a time to this last huge one. He didn't care if you were with someone new … well he did but even if you were he would still tell you.

He was drawn from his thoughts at the softest knock on his door. He knew there was no way it was anybody but you at this time of night so he swallowed all the nervous and all the doubt and told you too come in.

You weren't drunk by any means. Tipsy absolutely, but not drunk you still had a child to look after the next day and a hangover wouldn't help with that at all. You were just a lot braver now which was what had you knocking on his door so close to 4 in the morning.

You walked in wearing the pajamas Steve had given you earlier that night. You recognized them the very second he handed them to you, your favorite sleep shorts and one of Bucky's way too large for either of you shirts. A part of you hoped he would be asleep by now, hoped that in the time it took for him to get from the common area to his room he would be dead tired. Before he would try and be in bed by 12, but now you had no idea what his sleep schedule was like. When you finally got the courage to knock on the door it took no time at all for him to tell you to come in.

When you walked in you were shocked everything was different. The queen sized bed he used to have was replaced with a giant California king. The blackout shades that covered his window before were gone and there was nothing in its place showing off the starry night and New York skyline. You always thought his room had the perfect view. The walls that were once bare now had pictures of Jamie smiling as she was pushed on a swing and ones of her in a pretty pink dress as he and Steve stood either side of her in suits. You’d have to ask about that one later. You laughed a loud to yourself as you noticed the Doc McStuffins bedspread.

Buckys eyes followed yours around the room. When you laughed his decision to tell you was solidified.

“She said Doc McStuffins would help with the nightmares.” She had said that a few months back after he had come back from a 3 week long mission. He had come home beat down and tired and only wanting to see her face and when he finally had he cried. He hated being away for more than a week, of course he had a job a to do being one of earth's mightiest heroes but he was always a little more anxious now that he knew he had a tiny child depending on his safe return. That night he had slept with her cuddled close enough for him to hear her even snores but far away enough that should he have a soldier's nightmare she was out of harm's way. He had had a nightmare that night. He had to watch his daughter be dragged away from him while he sat strapped into that goddamn chair as she cried out to him to help her. He’d woken up covered in sweat and tears and million and one ideas about what would happen if HYDRA could get to her. How he’d do anything and everything to get her back even if he had to be the soldier again. So he cried again over all the things that could happen to his daughter and all the fighting he would go through all over again just to keep her safe. She had woken up at the sounds of his sobbing and all he could do is give her a watery smile and open his arms to her as she crawled in and wiped his tears away.

“Doc Mcstuffins makes the bed dreams go away.” She had yawned out to him and the very next day he had gotten rid of his black bed set in exchange for his current one.

“She’s great like that.” You smile at him as you walked over to the window admiring the stars in the sky.

“She gets her greatness from you.” He says looking at the stars from his spot on the bed.

“Well her dad is pretty great too.” You turn to look at him as he watches the stars behind you

You take this time to note the similarities between him and Jamie. The way they both look at something they really love with gold in their eyes. The crooked smile they both have on their faces when they think no one can see it.

“Can I um ask you something?” You don't wait for his response before you start asking all the questions that you've wanted to ask for so long.

“Why wasn't I enough?” and then you're crying and you can't stop and your mouth is still going, asking questions you aren't sure you even want to know the answers to.

“Was it because she's prettier than me?” There's a loud sob and it sounds so far away from where you are right now, so foreign to your own ears but you know it's you and you can't stop the next one that crashes through you. There is one last question that leaves your lips before you can stop it.

“Did you really love me?” Your bottom lips is quivering as you stare back at him.

Buckys heart is shattered with the first question you ask and it shatters into tinier and tinier pieces with each question you ask but it's the last one that turns the pieces to pure dust.

You'd never cried around Bucky before, not when you first broke your arm on a mission, not when, You had to watch a dog be taken from her pups not even when you left that night. You were crying now though and it hurt for Bucky to know it was all his fault.

He jumped up from his position on the bed to walk towards you.

“Doll please this wasn't your fault it was me 100% me and me alone. You were perfect … always so perfect.” He reached to wipe your tears away, he didn't want to see you see cry over his stupid mistakes.

He wanted to hold you and kiss you but he knew better than to do any of that, now wasn't the time. He had to talk first, tell you everything thing he had been telling himself for so long.

“Y/N, Doll you gotta sit down okay? I don't want you passing out.” You were hyperventilating and it was scaring him. He was reaching for your hands now to lead you towards the bed. You nodded tears still flowing down your hot cheeks you didn't reach to grab his hands though instead rubbing at your eyes as you walked over to the bed.

“I'm just gonna talk now okay? I just need to talk and I really want you to listen but if you don't I'll understand completely.” He sat at the end of the bed facing you, as much as he didn't want to look at you while you were crying he needed to look into your eyes to tell you this.

“I ...I messed so terribly bad. I did. I wish I could say that it was something that just happened, unplanned but I can't I knew what was going to happen that day and I was fully aware of her intentions and what she wanted from me and what I wanted from her.” He could feel his throat closing and his breath was coming out hard and fast but he wasn't finished he still had so much more to say.

You just stared back at him tears slowly but steadily flowing the more he spoke.

“I have regretted that day every single day since it happened and every single day I have beaten myself up about it.”

You could believe that, Bucky was definitely the type of person who beat himself over things that he had control over just as much as things he didn't, especially after HYDRA and all the brainwashing he'd been put through. He spent countless nights recounting to you all of the things he'd done and you'd listen to everything he had said, listened to the way he blamed himself over the HYDRA agents that ruined him, listened to how he beat himself up until his throat was raw and broken remembering everything he had done.

“Every night since you left has been the absolute worst of my entire life only made worse by the constant reminder that I failed not only you but our precious daughter.”

Your daughter, god he remembered the first time you said she could stay at the tower with him and the entire night he just stared at her looking at your eyes and hoping beyond hope that she turned out exactly like you. He thought about how he started crying when she first said ‘daddy’ and he broke down to his knees in front of her a complete mess and her chubby hands wiped his tears away and he knew she would be exactly like you.

He looked away from you and out the window again.

“I took the blinds from the window down a few weeks after you left. I couldn't get a good night's sleep Steve said I looked like a zombie. That was his way of being nice.” There was a scratchy laugh from him you could tell he wanted to cry but he wouldn't “I looked horrible my hair was a mess knotted together I hadn't showered or eaten in days.”

He thought back to Steve trying to get him to do anything to go for a run, to eat, to come out of his room for longer them 5 minutes. But he just wouldn't, couldn't get himself to care about anything or anyone let alone himself. He felt sick and guilty and not worthy of being around the rest of the team. So he stayed in his dark room and sulked away for weeks until one night Steve had suggested he take the blinds down.

“He said that looking at the stars would calm me down help me an okays night's sleep.” You were still looking at his face as he stared out of the window wondering where this was going.

“I took one look at the stars that night and they reminded me of when you used to smile at me whenever I would and your eyes would crinkle at the very edge and sparkle just like the stars.”He finally looked backed at you. His eyes were glossy and he sounded like he could just barely breath.

“I love you so much doll.“ He choked out.

“I don't deserve for you to love me back I broke your trust and if you never forgive me again I can't blame you. But i'd really love to try and prove that I can do so much better than before even if that means starting all the way over … well not all the way over you can't put jamie back inside of yo-.”

“Buck!” You giggle out hoping to cut him off.

“Right right. I want to try again for you to give me one last second. Just one and i'll do so much better. For you for Jamie for our family. I love you so much doll and I always will no matter what you decide.” He looked down at his hands for a few beats then decided he need to look at you to see how sincere he was in that moment.

You looked him in the eyes for the first time that night and you believed and trusted him. It scared you to trust him again, to be so ready to believe him again, of course it did and it would take a long time for you to be able to not feel fear when you said you trusted him.

“I love you too.” It's whispered into his chest as he crushes you into a hug and you don't wanna leave his embrace not now not ever.

It wasn't gonna be easy road from here on out and you knew that, you knew there would be days when you would remember all he’d put you through and want to leave all over again, knew that there would be times where you got into arguments and you both would bring up the past and say things you didn't mean. You knew that things would never be the same going forward, but you also knew you still really wanted to try again so you would.

The next morning when you wake up, a cold metal arm wrapped around your waist, a scruffy chin buried into your neck and long hair falling against your cheek, you think that there is no way your morning can get any better. Then there’s the sound of the door opening and closing you keep your eyes closed knowing exactly who it is. You feel the ruffling of the bed as she climbs up and over you to squeeze in between yourself and Bucky. You assume she’s just jumping into bed for a cuddle before she asks for her breakfast. So you decide to close your eyes and go back to bed he was more than capable of making her breakfast.

“Daddy?”

He was used to waking up at the drop a hat. He had to be in case Steve's breathing had suddenly changed when he got sick and Sarah was away at work. When he would have to listen to the feet of his enemies from miles away as a soldier back in the war. Listening for the steady slam of heavy boots on tile floors before he had to be wiped again. So when he heard the door knob turn he was already awake.

“Yes princess?” Then she is climbing into bed over the body that laid in front of him and there's a smile on his face that's at least 5 miles long. You went to sleep where he knew you should have been sleeping since the beginning and soon you'd be waking up where he knew you should be. You were home and he was complete.

“Cuddle?” She says as she not so gently squeezes her body between yours and his and even though he gets elbowed in his stomach and chest he definitely couldn't be happier than now lying with his best girls.

#Leeah Writes #leeah is also hella tired its 1 30 in the morning #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #marvel x reader #c'ya

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