#and bummed to be missing out on friends and church

[officiallycake-blog]

Missed you today, friend! How's everything going for you?

[callumsgirl]

Beautiful Things...that I've got

pairing: Austin Butler x female reader (Elizabeth)

summary: Elizabeth is young and beautiful when she starts a bartender job at the Rough Wheel. A dimly lit bar known for its jukeboxes, pool tables and the Outlaw MC drinking and hanging around.

Elizabeth had been working at the bar for two months and had had a crush on Austin ever since she first saw him playing pool and he called her a Babydoll in a raspy, warm voice, and handed her his credit card. It only got worse from that moment on, because to say Elizabeth was inexperienced with men was an understatement. She was 21, unkissed and a virgin, and Outlaw's number two had it in for her.

warnings: mostly flirting, age gab (21 y.o. and 33 y.o.), light and heavy smut, kissing, sexual unexperienced woman, virgin woman, first sexual experiences, some hard wording, use of pet names, fist fight, blood and smut, tears and mental pain

word count: 15,7 k

A/N: English is my second language. Please have mercy with me!

POV Elizabeth // Chicago, USA

Today is my two month anniversary, and all of my classes at the college are going pretty well for me. My grades are impeccable, I'm almost done writing my senior thesis, and I've made $60 in tips in my last two shifts.

Also, my mother had finally stopped trying to fix me up with a smart young man from her church. She tries to do that all the time and it's annoying. Mom always wants to get me a good match. She's hopelessly romantic. I let out a silent sigh. After combing my hair, I put it up in a plait. A young woman with moss-green eyes and freckles on her cheeks looks at me in the mirror. Hoping to look halfway decent next to the other female waitresses and earn a few dollars in tips, I dab a little lip gloss on my lips.

I'm wearing my favourite dress. It's red, cute and not too short for working behind the bar. I made the mistake of wearing a skirt that was too short once in my first week at the bar…and it was awkward and disgusting when Jimmy - that weird old guy who always sits at the bar - saw my half-naked bum.

Since then I've only worn jeans, skirts or dresses that cover my thighs. I'm also the only one of the waitresses who doesn't wear red lipstick. Callie, a bartender friend of mine, thinks I'm a prude and pretty stupid to miss out on all the tips just because I don't want to wear red lipstick.

To be honest, I need every cent, but I'm not going to earn it by wearing red lipstick, batting my eyes and sitting on some guy's lap. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.

I take one last look in the mirror before I leave the student hall of residence and get on my bike to cycle to the bar. My shift starts at 6pm and it takes me about 20 minutes on my bike.

When I arrive at the bar, it's still quiet and empty. I put my bag in my locker, tie an apron around my waist and start taking stock of the alcoholic drinks and snacks.

Just as I'm ticking off the last few lines of the list, Callie comes into the bar and smiles at me. She is tall, athletic and has flawless skin. Her full lips are all glossy and dark red. Callie looks beautiful and sexy without much effort. Life can be really cruel. I curl my lips a little enviously.

"Hey sweet girl. You look pretty. Did you put the dress on for Austin?" she teases me and winks as her hands clasp the hem of my red dress and she strokes it. She really winks at me!

I shake my head gently and feel my cheeks flush.

Damn it. Calm down Elizabeth, I think and give her a shy smile. Just one comment about Austin and my heartbeat goes out of control and I look like a tomato.

Sometimes I think she has an idea of how sheltered I grew up. That my parents kept me a million miles away from all the boys, that all I had to worry about was making sure I got good grades. But then she winks at me and makes these… comments about red lips and that I work in a bar full of hot bikers.

This bar is definitely a place my parents would never have let me go. Plus, this bar is far from my parents' idea of where I should work and who I should hang out with. But I haven't told them about my job yet.

The hourly wage is okay. The tips don't make me rich, but it helps me get through the month and I'm certainly not going to call my parents and ask for a dime.

I bite the inside of my cheek and lower my eyes, embarrassed. "Don't be silly, Callie," I laugh nervously. "I'm wearing this dress because I like it. Austin wouldn't even look at me if I - I gesture in her direction with my pen in hand, pursing my lips at her revealing outfit. "…if I wore something like you. It just doesn't suit me." I can feel my cheeks getting even hotter and quickly brush a loose strand of hair that has come loose from my plait behind my ear.

"You're joking, aren't you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. Her make-up is striking and dark. Her green eyes look so hypnotizing and intense with the black eyeliner and her red lips distract me.

I shake my head again and turn to more important tasks. Namely, finally getting through this list before the bar fills up.

"No," I reply and shrug my shoulders. "It's obvious that I don't fit in here and I'm sure no one here is interested in me. Look at me." I can't help but smile. It's obvious that I grew up differently and don't belong here. I stand out with my freckles, my clothes and the fact that I hardly wear any make-up. I often feel out of place. That's often the case. I press my lips together.

Callie smirks and brushes another strand of hair out of my face. "You're really sweet, Lizzie, and naïve," she says, pinching my cheek.

I gasp indignantly and frown. "What?" I ask in shock and blink at her. She can't be serious, can she?

"You're clever, and pretty, and cute. You're a lot more dangerous to the boys here than you think. Plus a lot of the men calling you by pet names. It's a good sign and more money for you, sweet girl." Then Callie turns her back to me and starts polishing beer glasses.

What nonsense, I think to myself and stare at her for a few more seconds until I get back to work.

Two hours later, the bar is overcrowded and I'm mixing various drinks in piecework time. I cut fresh lemon slices and decorate cocktail glasses. Then I pour beer and polish glasses again.

The air is warm, stale and when the front door opens again, a cool breeze blows over my heated, slightly sweaty skin. Only now do I realize how out of breath I actually am and how hungry I am. As if on cue, my stomach grumbles and I sigh in bittersweet despair. My break isn't for another two hours and judging by the rush at the bar, I'll be making a lot more cocktails before then. I let out another sigh and chew on my lower lip. The thought of my turkey sandwiches in my rucksack makes my stomach growl and I feel sick.

I roll my eyes. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth.

Then I work through the customers' drinks requests. I mix cocktails and pour beer. I fill the ice and lemons, rinse the glasses and polish them afterwards. Another blonde comes to the bar and waves for a waitress. Just as I'm about to approach her, Callie comes towards me and sends me on my break. Thank God!

I devour my sandwich and an apple during my short break between the current swing and the next. Then I stand behind the bar again and push full glasses across the counter. I'm slicing up more lemons and limes when someone throws a penny into the jukebox and selects a song. This Live by Curtis Stigers.

It's loud in here and it's hard to hear the music, but when the first sounds come through to me, I know immediately that he is here. Only one person in the bar would dare to play just this one song. I exhale loudly and my fingers tremble as I place the lemon and lime slices in a bowl.

My eyes sting slightly and I squint. While everything around me is black and yet so loud, I try to calm my frayed nerves. My heartbeat speeds up and a shiver runs down my spine. I bite my lower lip and whirl around to the counter as a woman's voice calls for the waitress again.

I see him out of the corner of my eye as I'm mixing two Bloody Marys. "Have a nice evening," I murmur in a loud voice and push the glasses over to the blonde woman waiting impatiently for her drinks.

As soon as she's gone, I wipe my hands on my apron and take two or three steps to the left. From here I can see the pool table, and I swallow hard when I recognize Austin among the bikers. It's not unusual for the MC to come here, but it's nerve-wracking for me. It's the closest I've ever been to a bunch of law-breakers on roaring motorcycles.

Young - and attractive, very attractive. He is tall, wears washed-out blue jeans and a black sleeveless top, with his biker jacket over it and has dark blond unruly hair and crazy blue eyes with which he surveys the entire bar.

I take another step closer to the end of the counter and scrutinize him. Describing Austin as handsome doesn't even begin to do him justice. I bite my lip and continue to stare. I don't normally do this, but I can't help myself…he's just so good looking.

"Oh, my God," I moan softly and lean over the bar a little, standing on my tiptoes as Austin takes the pool stick from a younger guy. A prospect I guess. They're all wearing biker jackets and I can feel my pulse fluttering under my skin.

The jackets of the older members are decorated with various patches and the prospects wear completely naked jackets. I don't really know much about life in an MC, but I've overheard conversations from the girls at the bar and know that the prospects have to earn their patches. With character and courage, sometimes with strangely dangerous tasks and other times they have to take a beating. I think it's exaggerated and dangerous, but nobody asks me.

"Damn, kiss me, fuck me," I sigh and watch as he leans his upper body over the pool table, focuses on the balls in front of him and then shoots. An electric wave rushes through my entire body and I press my lips together helplessly.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Callie suddenly mumbles behind me, scaring the hell out of me. I don't even know that I said it out loud.

But Austin isn't paying any attention to me and is smoking his cigarettes and playing pool with his boys. I press my lips and eyes together in shame and turn to face to Callie. "I didn't…"

"Shut up, sweet girl," she puts a finger to my lips and leans closer to me, her lips almost touching my cheek as she murmurs in my ear: "I'd fuck him too. He's really hot."

The two of us watch Austin as he leans on the edge of the pool table with both arms. The subdued light makes shadows dance across the deep ridges of his muscles. His muscles are firm and pronounced and as he slowly raises his head, mumbles something to himself and shoos one of the contenders away, our eyes meet. I need a moment to find my voice again. If this man had any semblance of a middle-class and less dangerous life, I would probably throw myself at him. But he lives for the MC and that… is not for me.

I have been crushing on him since the first night he handed me his credit card, called me with a raspy voice Babgirl for once, and asked me to start a tab for him. That was the starting point and it only got worse from there.

I gasp out loud - once again I feel caught out tonight and as the corners of his mouth lift slowly and sensually, his lips curl into a knowing, dirty smile, my stomach tightens. I stumble back half a step and bump my back against Callie's torso.

"Sorry," I mumble breathlessly and turn around in a flash. I disappear into the break room and sit there for five minutes until my heart rate calms down.

Pull yourself together, my sense of honor whispers to me and pulls my shoulders back. It raises its little chin to the sky and then gives me an encouraging nod. Get out there and keep serving drinks, Elizabeth.

I have regained some control of myself as I step behind the bar. It takes all my mental strength not to turn my head and look back at the pool table, but I persevere. Over the next half hour, I continue to serve drinks and the memories of Austin are pushed back into my mind. However, the biting feeling of shame in my chest continues to remind me that I've made an idiot of myself.

That's just the way you are, the cynical little voice in my head etches, jabbing me in the ribs. Prudish, untouched and not wanted.

Austin is in a different league to me. I scrape together the last shreds of self-respect and lock all my thoughts of him away in a little box in the back of my head.

I am overcome with nausea and only by taking deep breaths do I manage to shake off the feeling. I turn to polishing more glasses when I suddenly feel a dark, slightly cheerful and vibrant presence behind me. My back muscles tense up and I lift my chin slightly. My senses are on alert.

I hope it's not Jimmy again, I think wistfully and curl my lips into an unpleasant grimace. Just as I've mentally resigned myself to having to deal with Jimmy today, I hear a pleasantly hoarse voice murmur: "Hey Babydoll, are you free?"

I stifle an annoyed groan and grit my teeth. Then I breathe in and out quietly before I start draining another glass of beer. Austin called me Babydoll, again and a tiny part of me likes it. Very much so. Apart from the life he leads, which I absolutely don't want for myself, he's insanely handsome. I mean, what's the big deal if I look at him from time to time. As far as I know, no one has ever died from being adored from afar. My self-esteem grinds its teeth alarmingly and crosses its arms in front of its chest. I shake my head slightly, worried about the direction my thoughts are taking, and grab another glass to polish. "I'm busy. Please leave me alone."

"Doesn't look particularly busy," Austin replies. "If you're already behind the bar-"

The day had started so well and now - after my embarrassing reaction to what? A brief eye contact and I'm done. I interrupt him, annoyed and angry at the lapse in my self-control. In one fluid motion, I turn to him and the words flow uninhibited from my lips: "Then what, asshole?"

Shit! I'm fucked, I think the moment I recognize my words. I open my eyes. My subconscious lifts its little head in shock and stares back and forth between me and Austin. It's completely beside itself and hisses angrily: Are you crazy? I stumble a step back and my butt bang against the back of the bar. My hands are shaking and I barely manage to put the glass of beer down on the counter.

A few seconds pass and everything around me suddenly happens in slow motion. The music is muffled and only reaches me to a limited extent, the shouts of the waiting guests are far away and the laughter over at the pool table barely touches me.

"Asshole, hmm? I wouldn't have trusted you to have such a dirty mouth, babygirl." Austin's ice-blue eyes scrutinize me attentively. The intensity of his gaze and demeanor gives me the creeps.

"Don't call me, babygirl", I grumble angrily. Then I hesitate and lower my gaze. I stare at my sneakers and then raise my head again, heart pounding. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insulted you."

"Ohh, you can call me whatever you want. I've been called far worse," he laughs lightly and licks his lips.

Oh, I can immediately think of some suitable names; arrogant idiot, fool, arrogant ass…I follow the movements of his body and watch as he rests his elbows on the counter, his muscles bulging, and then murmurs dangerously darkly, "Why not? Do you have a boyfriend I should know about?"

"What?" I squeak and blink like crazy. "Do I what?", I add. My gaze is still glued to his lips. Wow, what pink, full lips. I wonder how they would feel on mine....hmm. Stop! I squint my eyes. No, I think angrily. He's a tease and he's making fun of me.

"Do you have a boyfriend, little girl?" he asks again, continuing to look me in the eye intensely as he leans a little further over the counter and reaches for a bottle of brandy.

"Hey," I grumble. "Put it back down," I demand of him and there's that amused glint in his eyes again. To my surprise, or perhaps more likely his own, he puts the bottle back down and raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. At least make me a drink."

I snort and step hesitantly on the spot. None of my colleagues seem to have noticed what's going on between him and me.

Then it suddenly occurs to me that he could get me fired quicker than I'd like. A nasty look from him and Tom, the owner will sack me. I lower my eyes to my feet once more and then tighten my shoulders. I take two steps to the front bar and pick up the bottle of brandy.

"With cola? With ice?," I ask and take a heavy crystal glass from one of the lower cupboards.

"No, just ice," he shakes his head and as I pour the brandy into the glass, he doesn't take his eyes off me. As I break some ice in the cooler, I don't notice how he slowly raises his left arm and shortly afterwards I feel his rough, warm knuckles on my cheek. When his knuckles touch my skin, I feel like sparks are flying. Embarrassed, I pull my head back. Must have been static energy. I blink, about as fast as my heart is beating. I lift my head slightly and look at him with a slightly trembling lower lip.

"What are you doing?", I whisper. "Please stop." I turn my head slightly to avoid his touch, even though it burns me and feels good.

Again, he doesn't answer my question. Instead, he repeats his, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Why does he want to know? He's certainly not checking out his chances with me. I inwardly roll my eyes at this unnecessary comment and the clear side-swipe from my subconscious.

I sigh half annoyed at his arrogance, half shocked that he's touching me. "No, I don't have a boyfriend. Please let go of me."

"That's a real shame," he murmurs, his husky voice doing strangely heated things to me. I'm blinking too fast, breathing too loudly and my hands are shaking badly as I put the full brandy glass on the counter and push it over to him. "You have really nice lips. Not as made up as the other girls here."

I turn deep red. Once again, and when he recognizes the heated glow on my cheeks, he finally leans back slowly. But before his knuckles leave my cheek, his thumb brushes over my bottom lip, tracing its outline. My breath catches and I can't move. Austin raises the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. "That really is a waste, babygirl," he replies, and I swallow hard.

As soon as the meaning of his words get through to me, I tear myself away from him. With unsteady legs, I stumble back and slap his hand away. "Stop it. I'm not one of your whores!"

I feel hurt and humiliated. Really offended by his words.

His eyes flash in astonishment. His slapped hand hovers in the air for a few moments and then he lowers it. He still looks unimpressed and completely calm. But the expression in his blue eyes has changed. In addition to the glitter, shadows now dance in his eyes and it's really creepy.

I really did beat him. Fuck!

Well, not really, but it was wrong. Now he has every reason to have me thrown out.

He strokes his own lip with the thumb that was just touching mine. The way he strokes his lips is hypnotizing and dangerous at the same time. "Hmmm… you're not really," he murmurs, fixing me very slowly. "If you were one, my hands would be around your pretty, slender neck right now."

He can't possibly be serious. My pulse quickens. Why is he upsetting me like this? Is it because of his outrageously good looks? Is it his penetrating gaze? Or is it because he keeps tracing his lower lip with his thumb and glaring at me menacingly? Can't he finally stop doing that?

I catch my breath and unconsciously lift my own hands to my neck. He grins wickedly. "Exactly… I would squeeze and squeeze until your eyes glaze over and your beautiful lips open slightly. I would make you beg and punish you", he confirms without any humor in his voice and stares at me.

"You're physotic," I reply in a low voice. I hardly trust my own voice anymore. The words slip out before I can stop them.

He gently shakes his head again, amused by my choice of words. Then everything happens very quickly. Austin leans over the bar again and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him with a jerk. The tips of my feet touch the baseboard of the bar and I gasp in his face, startled and frightened.

I blink around, looking for help, but still no one is looking after me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Callie at the other end of the bar and I want to call out to her, but one look into Austin's eyes and I fall silent. He raises his free hand and brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. My whole body trembles with tension and sheer fear.

"No, I'm not," he contradicts me. "I just grew up differently to you, babygirl," he explains, lowering his eyelids briefly. His voice is surprisingly soft. Austin stares at the neckline of my dress from above and can see my breasts rising and falling quickly. Then his eyes fall on my necklace. He licks his lips and takes the small cross between his fingers.

I expect him to say some stupid line about God and Jesus, but none of it comes out of his lips. Instead, he leans down so that his cheek brushes my chin and I raise my hands, clasping his wrist as he strokes my lips. "Just as innocent and pure as I suspected."

"You don't know anything about me", I stutter and in the next moment, I close my eyes and press my lips together. God, how can anyone be as stupid as me?

Austin is grinning and he is so close to me that I can breathe in his scent. He smells intoxicatingly of aftershave, soap and engine oil. I greedily soak up the smell.

"Oh no?" he asks, amused. "Then listen carefully Elizabeth. You're young, so damn pretty and innocent. I could have you broken and floating in five fucking minutes. Don't tell me you're a bad girl who kisses random strange men and spreads her legs," he stops and I jerk my eyes open. Austin leans back enough to look me in the eye again. "You're pure, you're perfect, and yet you're in this fucked up place…with me."

"Please let go off me", I beg.

Austin tilts his head slightly and looks at me. "You've got my attention now and I'm not done with you yet."

His words are both a threat and a promise. What does it all mean?

There are so many confusing thoughts chasing around in my head. I can't bring order to the chaos and when Austin brushes my lips again, muscles I didn't know I had tighten deep inside. "Do you know what the problem is with beautiful things in life, Elizabeth?"

I shake my head, barely noticing. Somehow I fear something bad and I try to pull away from him. The corners of his mouth twitch again. Sick bastard! He's having way too much fun with this whole thing. Intimidating young women like me and making fools of them is probably one of his habits. Austin smiles, fascinated, and loosens his grip on my wrist. A brief illusion of control and freedom that I try to take advantage of. I tug and tug, but he tightens his grip again.

"Shh, shh," he whispers. "You don't have to panic, babygirl. Just answer my question."

"I don't know, what's with the beautiful things, Austin?" I sound much whinier than I would like and shrug my shoulders cluelessly. I just want to get out of this bar and crawl into my little bed in the dorm.

"They are only beautiful until they are broken. What will break you?"

He loosens his grip and slowly lets go of me. I immediately increase the distance to him and wipe my palms over my cheeks. There are a few tears and I quickly wipe them away. Then I rub my wrist gently and look at him, scared and angry.

There is a satisfied, ashamed grin on his lips as he stands up and pushes the brandy glass over the counter. He toasts me and strolls back to the pool table.

I wrap my arms around my torso and try miserably to calm my nerves and my raging heartbeat. I just want to get out of here and wash the entire day off my skin. But when I look over at the wall clock, it's only 11 p.m.

I keep glancing nervously over my shoulder and catch Austin staring in my direction. Maybe this is another one of his strange habits, I think distractedly and purse my lips.

Then a rarely romantic thought rises up in the depths of my mind and I wonder if there is any hope left that there is still some light shimmering in Austin. I'm naïve, but not naïve enough to think I can change him. I realized early on that I'm not the girl that guys quit their jobs or move across the country for. A guy certainly wouldn't give up his lifestyle and values for me. Not when it involves motorcycling and a god damn MC.

It's after midnight when Callie goes into the break and the bar is half empty. I start refilling a few shots, washing glasses and wiping down the bar. When I've done everything behind the bar, I grab a fresh cloth and start wiping down the empty tables in the entrance area. I replace the burnt-out candles with new ones and refill the serving dispenser and cutlery.

It takes me about ten minutes to finish the first tables and say goodbye to the other regulars. Austin and his biker friends are still there. While some continue to play pool or darts, Austin sits on a chair. He sits upside down on it and leans his arms over the backrest, holding a half-empty glass in one hand. A cigarette burns between his lips and I quickly look away from him when I realize how much I'm staring at him. Just after… everything.

"This is so stupid," I mutter to myself after turning my back on him. "Get over him , Elizabeth!" I wipe down the next tables. Some have stains, others are sticky. I scrub like crazy. I'm finally done, my hands a little rough and dry from the detergent. Just as I'm about to disappear behind the counter, I bump into a guy.

I squeak, startled, and stammer: "Sorry, I didn't see you."

"No problem," a pleasantly warm voice replies, and I feel two large hands on my upper arms, gently pushing me back a few steps. "Didn't see you, sweetheart."

I think his name is Benny. He's so young and a prospect in the MC. He does the dirty work and has to be pushed around by the older members.

But for what?, I ask myself.

I take a closer look at him and notice that he has a nice smile, even though he's completely drunk. His brown, wispy hair sticks out in all directions. His dark eyes are narrowed.

"It's okay," I smile. "Maybe you should go home. You've had a lot to drink," I suggest in a cautious voice.

He looks at me silently for a breath, maybe two. Then he nods slightly and makes a slightly snivelling face. "I can't leave until the others do. That's what being new is like."

"Ohh," I gasp in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"It's alright", he reply. "You're really pretty by the way", Benny adds.

His thumbs rub lightly over my bare upper arms and I start to shiver. I tilt my head back slightly and giggle. "Really?" I ask. "Am I pretty?"

He frowns in confusion. "Yeah…"

"Benny, come here." A harsh, hoarse voice cuts through the air. I feel Benny's fingers tighten around my upper arms. Inevitably, I hold my breath and take half a step back. Benny drops his arms and when his hands leave my skin, I feel a chill run through me.

"I'm sorry," he begins. But once again his words are interrupted by Austin's hoarse, strained voice. I press my lips together and close my eyes.

"It was nice talking to you, Benny." I say with a small smile and circle around him.

Just before I stand behind the bar again, he murmurs in a q uiet voice, "I'd like to talk to you more often."

The corners of my mouth twitch and for the first time in a few hours, something feels normal, and nice. I nod slightly, "Okay Benny."

From a distance, I hear a chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor, and then Austin appears in the corner of my eye. He comes towards me with determined steps and I open my eyes in shock as he stretches out an arm and jerks Benny around by the shoulder. For a fraction of a moment, Benny is completely surprised, then he tries in vain to push Austin away from him. Austin wraps a hand around Benny's neck and holds him tight. But it is futile. Austin presses him closer to his chest and his lips almost touch the shell of Benny's ear as he whispers hoarsely in his ear. Meanwhile, his icy blue eyes lock on me. An unstoppable storm rages in them and I stumble back.

Benny looks completely tense. He nods mechanically to everything Austin hisses into his ear. Then Austin lets go of Benny's neck. I breathe a sigh of relief. My heart is pounding in my throat as Austin presses Benny's cheek flat against the sticky counter with a deafening slap. Benny groans painfully, but makes no sign of resisting.

"Do you hear me?" Austin hisses angrily. "You will never talk to her or look at her again or I'll break more than your fucking ribs."

"Austin," I scream, terrified. "He didn't do anything."

"Shut up, baby girl. He needs to learn his place." For a split second, I see something like humility and remorse in his eyes. Then it's gone, leaving behind the dark shadows and the raw aggression that runs through his veins.

I stumble back a few more steps until my legs hit the back of the counter. My fingers rebel as I clutch my hands hard around the edge of the counter, turning my head to the side as Austin pushes it down on the counter once more. A whimper escapes me and I immediately slap my hands over my face.

"Now take it like a man, Benny," he demands and lets him go. Austin takes a few steps away from him and takes off his jacket. He hands it to a guy with a long white beard. I think his name is Hank.

The scene in front of me makes no sense to me at all. I want to intervene and object, but I don't understand what this is all about. My lips open, but I close my mouth again. What should I say?

The other bikers have now also stood up and some of them, mainly the older ones, are watching the show with amusement. Then Knickers comes over to the bar and leans sideways on the counter. He gives me a surprisingly sympathetic look. As if he can grasp my confusion, he says, "It's not personal, sweetheart. Those are the rules at the MC and Benny has to respect them."

"But he only spoke to me," I mumble in exasperation. Austin's lips are curled into a promising grin. The tip of his tongue darts out from between his lips and he moistens them. Then he raises his hand and holds up exactly one finger. "You have one free stroke, Benny. Then I'll finish you off."

"What?" I gasp. "Hank?" I chastise in shock and open my eyes. "He's not really hitting him, is he?"

"Relax, little one. It'll be over quickly." He pats my hand like I'm five years old.

"No." I shake my head wildly. "I can't let that happen." I'm halfway to stepping out from behind the bar when Knickers grabs my hand, gently but firmly. "Stay here, little one. Austin can be a moody son of a bitch, but he's fair."

Fair?! This is a really bad joke. I audibly expel the air from my lungs and watch as Austin encourages Benny with a wave of his hand. "Go on!" he shouts.

Benny raises his fists and in the next moment he dashes forward with a big stride. He swings his right fist and misses Austin's chin by a hair's breadth. I squeal and squeeze Hank's hand.

Then they circle each other like predators and it's as if Austin is taunting him and deliberately not landing any hits. A frightening darkness flickers in his blue eyes again and I bite my lower lip. Benny takes advantage of the moment of inattention and delivers a brutal left uppercut to Austin. I squeeze my eyes shut and the next time I open them, Austin is wiping his thumb over his split lip and spitting blood onto the scratched wooden floor of the bar.

"You little fucker!" Austin curses and spits again, this time right at Benny's feet. This is followed by two quick steps and a combination of uppercuts and frontal punches to Benny's ribcage.

A deafening crack followed by pain-filled moans pierces the bar and my ears. Benny sinks to his knees and a breath later Austin pushes him to the floor and starts hitting him with wild combinations of punches. All I can see is spurting blood and hear loud, uncontrolled breathing.

I pull my hand out from under Hank's and flee to the back of the bar. As soon as I reach the back office, I push through the crack in the door and close the door behind me. Salty tears run down my cheeks and I try to contain the adrenaline rushing through my body. I stroke my cheeks, then my hair and walk in circles.

My head is spinning. What the hell just happened? What have I got myself into?

"Fuck," I mumble breathlessly. "Benny…what have I done," I cry. I throw myself onto the brown leather couch and pull my legs close to my chest, crying bitter tears. I am overcome by a wave of guilt. It all happened so fast - one second I was wiping the table and the next Austin was pining over some poor, innocent guy…because of me. I am the reason for this outburst of brutal, bloody violence. My chest rises and falls heavily and I gasp desperately for air. Tears blur my vision and I sniffle, and sniffle. It's no use and within a few minutes my nose is completely blocked and my cheeks are burning from the salty tears. I wipe my face roughly with my hands.

I'm so lost in my thoughts and tears that I don't even notice the heavy footsteps approaching me. It's only when the office door opens and Austin steps into the room that I raise my head, startled. My legs tremble and my fingers feel numb and cold as I struggle to my feet. Defiantly, I jut my chin up and sniffle: "I didn't invite you in."

"You didn't have to, babygirl," he replies harshly.

Damn it, go away, I plead silently and when he doesn't move, I scrutinize him from head to toe. My gaze first falls on his clenched fists. His knuckles are swollen, partially burst open and full of blood. I feel sick in an instant. I quickly turn my eyes away from his hands and look him in the face. His ice-blue eyes gleam wildly and impenetrably in my direction and I bite my lower lip. His lower lip has split open and blood is slowly drying on his chin. I swallow hard and turn away from him. "I don't want to see you. Please go away!"

Again, there is no answer. I don't hear the door either and the next moment I feel two warm, large hands resting on my upper arms and turning me around. His arrogance pisses me off and I want to scream at him, but at the same time I'm terrified of him. Austin has just beaten up a man…over an innocent conversation.

"That's not true," he insists in a gentle voice. "Why are you crying?" he whispers. He hugs me to him with one arm while he lets the fingers of his other hand glide tenderly over my cheek. I avert my gaze and close my eyes. His fingertips trace the contours of my face and when his thumb strokes my lower lip, his breath catches and I open my eyes. Austin looks me in the eye, and I return his smoldering, bewildered gaze before his shapely mouth catches my attention. Despite the swelling already setting in and the dried blood, his lips are still pink and full. For the first time in my twenty-one years of life, I want to be kissed. Even if all the circumstances speak against it.

Damn it, kiss me!, I beg him silently.

"You hit him," I whisper in a trembling voice. I'm paralyzed, completely captivated by him. I stare at his mouth, spellbound, and Austin looks down at me with a darkly veiled gaze. He cups his palm around my cheek and chin. His touch forces me to lean towards him.

"He was looking at you," he explains and I stare at him, confused.

What? "Just like every other guest tonight. Do you even hear what you're saying?" I ask, frowning. I raise my arms and press my palms to his chest, which turns out to be a clear mistake. He doesn't move an inch and feeling his warm, firm muscles and heartbeat under my fingers feels so wrong and yet so outrageously good.

"Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand," he sighs and strokes my cheek again. This time his cracked knuckles touch my skin and I flinch. Austin shows no pain, though. "The rules in MC are very specific. He had to understand that there are rules, and you're one of them, babygirl." He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head almost imperceptibly, as if to answer my unspoken question. When he opens his eyes again, the expression in his blue eyes is distant and there is a steely determination in them.

"Elizabeth, I'm exactly what you don't want out of life," he whispers.

Excuse me? How does he know that? Where did this sudden change of direction come from? Surely that's my decision alone, even if he's absolutely right and my reason applauds his words. My thoughts swirl out of disappointment at his confusing rejection. "You don't want me! I'm fucked up," he announces, swallowing hard. "I'd only break you," he adds hoarsely, gently pushing me away from him.

No!, my subconscious screams as he detaches himself from me and half turns away. Suddenly I feel very lonely and exposed. He watches my reaction carefully and a thought flashes through my mind: I wanted to be kissed, I made it damn obvious, and he didn't do it. He doesn't desire me.

I feel like a naive fool.

"You can't just say something like that and then walk away!" I mutter indignantly. The disappointment at his rejection and the cryptic meaning of his words make me angry. I grab his wrist and force him to look at me. "What do you mean I'm part of these MC rules?"

Austin looks at me silently for a while. Then he nods slowly and licks his lips. "Okay babygirl," he murmurs softly.

How can just a few words sound so enticing? I let go of his wrist and sit down on the brown couch. I look at him expectantly and watch as he somehow searches for the right words. Wow! I didn't think it was possible that someone like him - dark and dangerous - could be speechless; reaching for the right words.

"Some of us enjoy certain…privileges because of our rank in the club. We eat first, drink first, pick women," he pauses and rubs his knuckles together. "I picked you, and that includes the other guys keeping their distance from you."

"You did what? Picked me out, reserved me?" I shout at him angrily and stand up. I don't normally tend to use loud words and I immediately lower my voice again. Shouting has never helped anyone.

I straighten my shoulders and stare at Austin. My pulse starts to race. Something tightens in my stomach and the next moment I push past him wordlessly to leave the room. I can't believe it - I feel objectified, like an thing that can be reserved. My eyes start to sting again and I bite the inside of my cheek. This evening is a nightmare. I just want it to be over and I can leave. I'm sure if I find Callie and tell her I'm not feeling well, she'll let me go.

Just as I grasp the doorknob, an arm wraps around my waist from behind and spins me around. I collide with Austin's chest and gasp in shock. His fingertips tighten their grip around my waist and squeeze the fabric of my dress. He grabs my chin with his other hand and forces me to look him in the eye. My lower lip trembles and my choppy breath collides with his as I open my lips slightly. Austin stares at me, dark and promising. Is he going to kiss me after all?, I wonder, and in the next moment I receive a powerful jab between the ribs. My inner voice warns me and shrieks wildly. Fight him off, growls my subconscious. I silence it.

"Yes and no…I was protecting you with it, Elizabeth! Don't you understand that at all?" he asks, his jaw grinding.

How is he trying to protect me? He reserves me and puts his brand on me, and then?

"Protecting me? You're kinding right, Austin." I roll my eyes and press my hands against his chest. I desperately try to break away from him, but he won't let me escape. I turn my head jerkily and tear myself away from an engaging touch.

I hit his damn hard chest again. Son of a bitch!

He doesn't budge an inch and I realize how my nerves are slipping away from me repeatedly that evening. My blows become more uncoordinated, sluggish and weaker until my palms are just resting on his chest.

He lifts my chin again and I reluctantly give in. "Would you rather I kept my mouth shut and let some random guy throw dirty comments at you, grab your ass or pull you out of their laps, huh?"

I shake my head dejectedly and pause for a moment. I take a moment to memorize the sight of him. I have him to thank for the fact that I have mostly been left alone for the last two months, neither adjusted nor pulled onto any laps…after all the silence and my silent, bittersweet pining, he is still looking at me. Why me? I don't understand.

We remain silent. All thoughts are blown away and what remains is darkness and emptiness in my head. I risk a furtive glance up at him and at his lips. When Austin notices, his lips twitch.

He tightens the grip of his arm around my waist a little more and presses my upper body against his. My hands are now trapped between our bodies and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes. Maybe it's because we're in such close quarters, or maybe it's because the hint of blood mingles with his unmistakable scent and numbs my senses. Tense, heated anticipation is in the air. My breathing and pulse quicken and he lowers his head a little. His eyes shimmer like liquid ice water and I bite my lip.

"Oh, shit!" he curses. "Maybe I'll regret this later, but I want to break you so badly, Elizabeth." He wraps one hand around the back of my neck and before I know it, his hips are pressing against mine. My God! I can't move my hands and desperately stand on my toes as one of his lips touches mine and he kisses me. His lips soften beyond measure and I moan into his mouth as I taste the blood. His tongue explores my mouth and then my own glides over his. I slowly feel my way forward and then our tongues begin an erotic dance. He spins me around and pushes me backwards a few steps until my ass touches the edge of the desk. I can feel his erection against my stomach. Wow… it's explosive.

We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends. "You're amazing and beautiful," he gasps.

Beautiful. The compliment brings a blush to my cheeks. Austin thinks I'm beautiful. I risk a glance into his glowing eyes.

"Have you ever been kissed by anyone?"

"No," I whisper back. I do my best not to sink into the floor with embarrassment. Well…maybe Bobby tried to kiss me once in high school…never mind. It was childish and not worth mentioning.

"How is it that no guy has knocked you out yet? I don't get it. Men must be crazy about you." Suddenly my mouth is numb. Austin runs his fingers down the back of my neck and twists my braid around his wrist, forcing me to look him in the eye. I suck in the electrifying air around us. He gives me a wolfish grin, and I promptly feel that strange tugging in my abdomen again.

"You really are pure, so perfect." His thumb glides over my lower lip. His words act like an accelerant on me; my blood boils. He leans down to me, kisses me passionately and sucks on my lower lip. I moan and he smiles against my lips. "How old are you, Elizabeth?" he then asks in a low, raspy voice and I frown at his curiosity.

Why does he suddenly want to know? I swallow and open my mouth. "I'm twenty-one, almost twenty-two."

Something dark flashes in his eyes that I can't place. "How old are you?" I ask before I can stop myself.

A shadow flickers across his eyes and he continues to trace my bottom lip. "Thirty-three."

Oh man! There are several years between us. I slowly pull my hands back and intertwine my fingers.

"I really should leave you alone. You're far too young for me. Far too beautiful and I shouldn't want to break you."

It's that little compliment again. It's the second time he's said that he thinks I'm beautiful. I try to hide my stupid grin. Do you hear me now? He wants to break you?. my inner voice is shouting at me. My subconscious raises its head weakly. At least it's still alive. It's been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. Where was it when I needed it?

"What happens if you stay?" I whisper and his breath catches. "What happens then?", I add.

He grins darkly. "I don't know if you're naïve or just inexperienced, but you're remarkably brave," he says, his voice hoarse.

His words encourage me. They set me completely on fire and I press myself closer to his body. My hand trembles as I lift it and slide it along his neck. Austin freezes at the touch and blinks about as fast as my heart beats. My eyes fall on his lips again and I blush. He kissed me with those lips…wow.

I take the next step and run my fingers from his neck to his cheek to his chin. The blond stubble feels surprisingly soft and I look at his slightly swollen lips. The blood has dried and a crust is slowly forming. My fingertips hover in the air and I hold my breath with a pounding heart as I touch his lips. "Does it hurt?"

I don't know who this hurts more. Him or me. Austin stands perfectly still, not making a move. Only his fingers twitch around my waist and send pleasant shivers down my spine. "Not really. I've had far worse injuries after a fight," he explains with a sphinx smile. He opens his mouth slightly and licks my fingertips with his tongue. I gasp and then it takes my breath away. Why is that so sexy?

"Would you feel better if you tended to my wounds?" he whispers, hitting the mark with his words. I would really feel better if I knew that nothing was wrong with him. Not really I mean…my inner goddess sleepily lifts her head as she realizes we're about to touch Austin again. Suddenly she is wide awake and full of energy.

I nod gently and he releases me with a confident grin. My breathing is shallow; I can't take my eyes off him. He grabs a first aid kit from the filing cabinet next to the couch and places it on the desk next to me.

"Ready?", he asks.

"Hmmm," I hum and he puts his hands on my hips. He lifts me up in a flash and sits me on the tabletop. I squeak and open my eyes. Now I'm almost at eye level with him and he smiles in amusement at my reaction.

I turn my gaze away from him and take the first aid kit in my hands. I open the zipper and examine the contents. There are plasters, bandages, cleaning cloths, gloves and… condoms. My cheeks flash deep red. It's not really much, but it will be enough. I press my lips together in concentration and think hard about what to start with. I've never treated anyone after a fight before.

"Clean first, then treat", he helps me out.

Then I expel the unconsciously held air from my lungs and grab a bottle of disinfectant. I pour some of the blue, alcoholic liquid onto a white cloth and hesitate, muttering, "It'll probably sting."

Austin's eyes twinkle in amusement. "Go on, babygirl. I can take it."

I dab gently over his forehead, his cheeks, and when I reach his lips, his hands suddenly settle on my thighs, clasping with gentle pressure. My movements stutter and he grins smugly. What a bastard!

I squint slightly and press the cloth against his lips harder than necessary, wiping away the dried blood. Austin hisses softly and now I'm the one smiling with satisfaction. Ha!

"I didn't know you could be sadistic," he teases, watching me put the cloth away and reach for some ointment. A wave of heat chases through my body again.

"I'm not," I contradict and demand: "Hold still", I command then.

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he holds still. I put a little ointment on my index finger and stroke his eyebrow, his left cheek and his lips. He breathes in loudly through his nose while I concentrate on my work.

"Just keep telling yourself that," Austin murmurs, and a feeling of hot lust flashes through me. He stands in front of me, looks me in the eye. He's so damn sexy.

I ignore his words and ask instead: "Have you been caught anywhere else?"

"I don't know." He shrugs and then whispers playfully, "But you're welcome to look, Elizabeth."

I gasp for air. He's clearly taking the piss.

"I'm serious, Austin."

His fingers twitch around my thighs again and squeeze lightly. His palms are warm and rough. Every slightest movement of his hands makes all the senses in my body sing on high alert.

"Me too, babygirl." His hands wander up my thighs and reach the hem of my dress. My heart stops beating.

"Do you have any idea how seductive you are, Elizabeth?" He lets his hands wander tenderly over my thighs and pushes the red, fluffy fabric up. I automatically spread my legs for him and he steps closer to me. "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?", he adds as I whimper softly.

The muscles deep inside me contract deliciously. I would love to close my eyes, but the wild expression in his blue eyes hypnotizes me. Unpredictable waves of lust and darkness break in his eyes and I want to drown in them. He releases one hand from my thigh and I immediately miss the feel of his warm fingers there. But then he curves his hand half around my chin, half down my neck and leans in for a short, sweet kiss.

"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he whispers and as I realize he's not only offering me a warning, but also a way out of this messed up, heated situation, my nerves are completely shot. I breathe in and out frantically. I can almost feel the chaotic feelings - or is it the hormones? -that are coursing through my body. The voice of reason calls out to me and holds out its small hand. Ready to take flight with me, but I stare at Austin unblinking. I want him so much, even though all reason rebels inside me. I wrap my hands around his upper arms and feel his firm biceps.

His blond hair is tousled, his black shirt clings tightly to his chest - his blue eyes flash out at you. "Yes, please," I whisper. Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly I want from him. I'm just sure that I don't want him to let go of me and walk away.

"Please what?", he asks teasingly. His gaze is very intense, half in the shadows and half in the dim light of the office.

"Please kiss me, touch me, Austin." ...fuck me. As soon as the words have left my lips, he kisses me again. So wishes can come true after all.

He breaks away from me, his face only centimetres away from mine. "I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, don't you?" He sounds very serious, almost desperate, and his eyes are glowing. His words surprise me.

Who would have thought that this handsome, tough biker would care about my well-being. "I would never do anything I didn't want to." As soon as I get the words over my lips, I'm not so sure anymore. Right now, I'd probably do anything he asked of me. My answer seems to satisfy him, though.

"Show me!", I demand and the corners of his mouth twitch furiously. His lips meet mine again and the kiss is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Not that there's much to compare it to.

He strokes the contours of my lips with his tongue and asks for entrance. I open my mouth and our tongues touch. A muffled moan escapes me and he intensifies the kiss. Then his lips leave mine and he breathes feather-light, moist kisses on my jaw and neck. When he starts to suck on a sensitive spot under my ear, I shiver.

"You react very intensely," he whispers huskily. "Your skin is so soft and you smell good," he adds.

Why does he say he can't be affectionate? His words make my arms and legs melt and heat rushes through my veins.

Austin lets go of my chin and grabs my own with his hand, pressing it to his chest. My fingertips twitch and I feel a surge of nervousness race through me. He wants me to touch him, it occurs to me, and I run my palm hesitantly over his bulging pecs. He pulls his head back so far that he can look at me and I breathe heavily. I avoid his gaze and continue to stroke his covered upper body. Despite the fabric, I can feel his warmth and the hardness of his muscles. Both his hands rest on my thighs again and this time he doesn't stop at the hem of my dress. He grips the hem and crumples the fabric in his fists, pulling it up until he catches a glimpse of my white lace panties. Luckily I'm wearing nice underwear!

"Fuck," he growls and licks his lips. "Your skin is flawless. I want to smell and taste you. and get you all dirty, baybgirl."

His uninhibited, rough words totally arouse me. I turn red. His dirty words are in stark contrast to his gentle touch. His fingers glide over the insides of my thighs and he spreads them wider. I'm putty in his hands. He exhales audibly and closes his eyes as he runs the knuckles of his right hand over the soft lace fabric. I gasp for air and my toes curl in my shoes. Oh…how can I feel that touch down there?

"I love delicate lace," he murmurs, pushing the red fabric of my dress further up and stroking the lace pattern of my panties with the fingers of one hand. His next kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips teasing mine. I cling to him and crumple the fabric of his black shirt. He presses his body against mine, pushing my upper body back until I'm lying half on the tabletop. One hand clasps my bare thigh, the other moves down my back to my waist and my bum. As he thrusts his hips forward, I feel his erection.

I let out a muffled moan and swallow his quick breath as he kisses me again. I carefully stroke his neck and hair. It is soft and yet unruly. I tug gently and he moans hoarsely. He runs one hand over my collarbone and pushes me down onto my elbows with the flat of his palm on my chest. The cold wooden board collides with my bare arms and sends shivers down my body.

I expect him to undress me, but he doesn't. He lets go of me, straightens up and sinks to his knees, grips both my thighs and pulls me jerkily towards the edge of the table. He's not going to, or? My inner goddess swings her hips in boundless anticipation, while a little voice in my head whispers doubts. However, I don't have time to get to grips with the chaos in my head. My legs float in the air and then they suddenly rest on his broad shoulders and I close my eyes, fluttering. He kisses the inside of my thighs and gently scratches my hip bone with his teeth. He gently nibbles and kisses his way from my left hip bone to my belly button and sinks his tongue there. I moan again.

Seeing him on his knees in front of me and feeling his mouth on my skin is unexpected and exciting. My whole body is on fire and the excitement comes over me in waves. I try in vain to control my loud breathing. He looks up at me with his blue eyes under his incredibly long eyelashes, kneads my thighs and licks his lips. His nose grazes my skin down there. Before I know it, he leans forward and pushes his nose between my thighs. I can feel him down there. His hot breath collides with my own warmth. Oh God!

"Hmmm…you smell so good," he murmurs, inhaling deeply. I let myself fall back onto the tabletop and chew my lip. Something seems to explode deep inside me.

He blows lightly against my covered centre and I shiver. "Ohh," I whisper and he chuckles. He spreads my legs wider and bends my knees upwards. I'm completely exposed and can't think a sensible thought as Austin drags his knuckles over my centre. Although the touch is light as a feather, I can feel the reverberations all the way to my abdomen. I press a hand to my mouth and gasp for air. Oh boy, that's intense.

When I briefly lift my head, there is a sensual expression in his eyes and he lowers his lips. His lips move over the thin lace of my panties and he growls. The vibration reverberates deep inside me. One of his hands grabs my briefs and pushes them aside, revealing me and then I feel his lips on my bare skin for the first time. I moan, feel the pulsation between my thighs and how wet I am. Please, I beg silently as one of his arms wraps around my stomach and stops me from wriggling around. I clutch his forearm and dig my fingernails into his skin.

"Have you ever touched yourself and brought yourself to orgasm?" he whispers smokily.

I try my best to sound offended. "Yes," I breathe breathlessly - but none of my touching has felt anything like what you do.

"Maybe one day I'll watch you rub that sweet little pearl and moan breathlessly."

In the depths of my foggy mind, the thought arises that I might even like it. To see him in front of me, half naked, and his eyes are only on me. That would be definitly something.

His lips open and with the next breath I feel his tongue. The tip of his tongue slowly and sensually circles my clit. His fingers part my labia and when he briefly lifts his head and blows against my wet centre, my body rears up. But Austin holds my hips in an iron grip and I sigh in sweet agony. He doesn't let up and continues his sensual assault.

"Now let me explore this litte thight hole." He strokes my entrance with one finger and I feel my muscles tense and pulsate down there. He pushes a finger inside me, again and again.

When he stops circling my clitoris and starts sucking lightly instead, my vision blurs and all my muscles tense up. Something knots in my stomach and I chase after a tingling flicker. His finger pumps into me at a steady pace, becoming more urgent as he adds another. A cry of pleasure escapes me as he speeds up.

"Please," I beg and throw my head back. My lips open and my legs tense and tremble.

"Let go, babygirl." His teeth scrape over my clitoris and he slides two fingers inside me. Just before he pulls them out again, he curves his fingertips and grazes a sensitive spot inside me. My eyes go black and I see stars. I cry out and freeze. The madness! I've never experienced anything like it.

My eyelids are heavy as I flutter them open again. He lifts his eyes and looks at me with a satisfied, dark grin. I return his smile shyly and am sure that I have just collided with the sun. I feel like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and got burnt.

I come down from my orgasm with a gasp. His hands glide over my thighs and he slowly rises from his knees. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the fabric over his head. Oh wow…Adonis and David's michelangelo can pack their bags next to him. Austin is outrageously hot. A light film of sweat glistens on his skin and I wander with his eyes over the peaks and valleys of his pronounced muscles. My mouth is watering and I'm suddenly overcome with the desire to taste him on my lips. I straighten up into a sitting position and reach out for him.

Excitement and triumph dance around in his gaze and he breathes heavily. "How was that?" he asks in a raspy voice.

I blink and think about what would be a suitable answer. Exciting, explosive… definitely world-shattering. "Good," I whisper back. He laughs and grabs my face with both hands. Then he kisses me and I taste my own arousal…it's dirty…and exciting…and feels far too good.

"You're killing me. How can you be so innocent?"" With his fingers he gently grips my wrist and directs my movements up his chest and along his ribcage, then down to his stomach and my fingers graze the path of blond hair disappearing under his waistband. I stare at the spot where our hands rest and widen my eyes as I see the bulge in his jeans.

I swallow hard and there's that promising, dangerous grin on his lips again. He lets go of my wrist and unbuttons his jeans, then pulls down the zip. I hold my breath. His palm is pressed against his erection and he closes his fist around his cock. I slide my fingers over his upper stomach muscles and they tense under my touch. It's a heavenly feeling to be so turned on. He pushes his jeans down and kicks his boots off his feet. Then he's standing in front of me in just black, tight-fitting boxer shorts and when his fingers slip under the fabric, I bite my lip. Tense excitement slowly builds up and watching him touch himself blows my mind… insane!

Austin takes half a step closer to me and wraps his other hand around my chin. I crane my head and sigh as he kisses me again. It's wild and hard on the edge of pain as he presses my head back and stretches my neck muscles. This time I feel braver and search for his with my tongue. He moans in surprise at my initiative into my mouth. I slide my hands further down his stomach and touch his forearm. He's still pumping his hard cock and I wrap my fingers around his forearm and wrist.

"Let me…" I stammer awkwardly. His muscles quiver under my fingers. "Show me how…"

He nods and pulls off his boxer shorts. My eyes widen. His cock is big. The tip is red and wet, and he grabs my hand again. "Keep your fingers loose, babygirl," he instructs me and I obey. When I look into his eyes, there's a lewd grin on his lips. I want to punch him in the face, but I'm too nervous and curious about what's going to happen next. He clearly enjoys my stunned expression and lays a quick kiss on my lips. It's smooth, wide and beautiful. I want to touch him, but I don't know how.

Austin leans down to my ear. His lips brush the sensitive skin there and I lick my lips in anticipation. Hm…all right.

He guides my hand towards his penis and whispers. "Close your fingers." I close my fingers into a fist and gasp. His cock is much harder than I expected in my hand, but also soft and warm. "First slow and firm," he whispers, moving my hand up and down, and his eyes shimmer like boundless oceans as he looks at me. He sets the pace for my movements. My mouth is slightly open, I lower my gaze and watch our hands glide up and down, mesmerised. It's fascinating how the wet tip of his cock keeps disappearing and reappearing between my fingers. I wonder what he tastes like?

"That's it, babygirl." He lets go of my hand and cups my face with both hands, then leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes in pleasure. Seeing him where…aroused and out of control fires me up and I grow bolder. When he thrusts his hips forward slightly, I involuntarily tighten my grip.

A deep groan echoes from his chest. Ha! He likes it and a new, electrifying warmth spreads through my chest. It's a sound I'd like to hear more often. I remember Callie and the other girls talking about blokes and how they like it. So I speed up my movements a little and at the same time carefully slide my thumb over his glans. I watch his reaction carefully.

"Shit", he growls in a deep voice. Austin opens his eyes, and I repeat the slide of my thumb. I also start to twist my fist a little with the up and down movements and get another deep, hoarse moan from Austin. He's both hard and soft, like steel, covered in velvet, and when I switch hands, bringing my wet thumb to my lips, he tastes amazing, good, a little salty. While I'm not so sure about this flavor, one look at ihim and I don't care. Seeing him so aroused and wild is worth it.

Austin groans and thrusts his hips towards me more and more often. I continue with the twisting pumping movements of my hand. I feel powerful! My tiny little inner goddess is delighted with my skill. I can drive him crazy with my hand. Again I let my thumb glide over his tip and his hips jerk. "Fuck, babygirl and you've never done this before?," he growls and when I make a sign to lean forward, he shakes his head breathlessly.

I bite my lip and shake my head. "Never."

Why not? Before I can sulk, he whispers: "If you curve those pretty pink lips around my cock now, I'll come deep down your throat." I feel the muscles in his legs tighten and he breathes heavily as he closes his hand around my wrist, slowing my movements before pulling my fingers away from his cock.

My pulse quickens as he grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. Now I'm only wearing my white lace bra. "I'd much rather feel your tight little pussy around my cock when I come."

I shudder at his crude words and he flicks my bra open, slips it over my shoulders and as the cool room air brushes my breasts, my nipples harden. His fingers glide over my one breast as he kisses my neck. He rolls his thumb over my nipple and I feel a longing tug between my thighs. His lips leave wet kisses on my neck, my collarbone and when he cups my one nipple, I threaten to burst.

The next second he kisses me again passionately, completely wildly and wraps his arms around my back. He lifts me off the tabletop and stands me on my own feet. I cling to him with wobbly legs. But before I can wrap my arms around his naked torso, he turns me around so that my bare back touches his chest. He grab a condom package. What is he up to?

"You're really pretty, Elizabeth," he whispers and I shudder. His hands wander over my shoulders and down my arms. Then they rest on my hips, exploring the soft skin of my lower back, and when he slides one palm between my shoulder blades and presses me forward onto the ice-cold tabletop, alarm bells start ringing in my head.

He wants to take me from behind. I press my palms on the tabletop and push against him. His palm presses further into my back and I panic.

No!, my little inner goddess screams indignantly. This is not how she and I had imagined my first time. Part of me resigned myself some time ago to the fact that there would be no roses, candles and sweet words, but being taken from behind… hard, that's absolutely non-negotiable for me.

The echo of Austin's words reverberates through my head. I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl.

I realize that if I don't say anything now, he will take me from behind. He's probably used to getting his way and the women he normally fucks have long since resigned themselves to not experiencing romance or expressing their desires. But I'm certainly no whore…I grit my teeth as he traces the contours of my ass with his fingers.

I feel his warm body firmly behind me and as his fingers slide between my thighs, I press my legs together, even though it feels damn good to be touched by him. I lift my head, "No!"

He pauses in his movements. "No, what?" Austin asks roughly.

I take a deep breath and think about what to say. "No," I repeat stupidly. "I don't want it like this. You're not going to take me from behind like one of your whores."

The pressure of his palm on my back finally disappears and I straighten up. When I turn around, there's an indefinable expression in his eyes and I swallow. He looks so lost; like I've slapped him in the face. Oh, Austin.

For a fraction of a moment, I can see through the walls he's built around himself. He frowns in confusion. Austin almost doesn't understand my objections, but then it hits me like a blow. How could he know otherwise? That's the way he lives, and it makes me a little sad.

It's the first time I've seen something like vulnerability flicker in his eyes. Austin seems speechless and overwhelmed. So if I want this to work, I have to do something.

I don't have any sexual experience, but I know what I don't want. That includes a hard fuck from behind. I sigh softly and wrap my arms around his chest. Then I stand on my tiptoes and lift my chin until my lips hover over his.

He finally wakes up from his stupor and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is different - somehow full of emotion and when he puts one arm around my upper back and the other around my bottom, I press myself against him. We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends and he suddenly lifts me up. I automatically wrap my legs around his hips and he walks over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and his hard cock slides right between my labia. I freeze and shudder at the same time.

"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he mumbles and it feels like deja vu.

"Please take me," I whisper and press myself against his naked body. I don't know where the courage comes from, but I lean my cheek against his, lick the shell of his ear and rock my hips against his lap. "You're not going to break me right now, Austin," I add in a soft, gentle voice. Even though there are some doubts in my mind about that, I continue to encourage him. At least not immediately and completely, my little subconscious grumbles.

I dispel the unpleasant thoughts in my head and blow a kiss on his jaw. His hands glide over my back and within a breath he has spun us round and my back is pressed into the seat of the couch. I blink and shiver like a deer in headlights. So it's really happening. Bloody hell! Now I'm getting a little scared. I think of his big cock. How is that supposed to happen? How?

Austin pushes his knees between my thighs and leans over me. His arms are propped up next to my head and I stare up at him from below. My mouth is dry as dust and I whimper softly.

He slides one of his hands round the back of my neck and holds my head in place. As he lowers himself onto his elbow, our naked bodies touch and his hard pecs rub over my sensitive, hard nipples. I gasp and follow his words as he murmurs, surprisingly calmly, "Pull your knees up a little."

I look between our bodies and chew on my lip as the tip of his cock rubs over my clit and then slides along my labia. A pleasant muffled sound suddenly hums in my ears and I don't know whether it's me moaning or him. "Take a deep breath and relax, babygirl. I'll let it pass quickly."

I lift my head and take a shaky breath. I wrap my arms around his ribcage and press my fingers into his warm, firm skin in joyful yet anxious anticipation.

His glans slides further down and as he pushes his hips forwards a little, he finds my entrance. His blue eyes glow intensely and unyielding desire, lust and the devil of darkness dance a tango in them. I close my eyes and take another breath. Then he lowers his forehead against mine and whispers in a smoky voice, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, Elizabeth. Quick and dirty until there's nothing left of you, babygirl." I open my eyes and he thrusts his hips forward, penetrating me deep with a single thrust.

The unaccustomed stretch burns and the feeling of being completely full squeezes all the air out of your lungs. I gasp for air and squeeze my eyes shut. A whimper escapes me and when Austin's fingertips twitch on my neck and he kisses my cheeks, I realise I'm crying.

"Ah, you're so fucking tight," he whispers and kisses me. All my muscles are tensed to the breaking point and only when his lips part and his teeth pull lightly on my lower lip does a little tension leave my body.

I'm out of breath and a ball of fire races down my spine and explodes between my thighs as he slowly pulls back and then slides back inside me. More fluid and deeper this time; I run my hands from his ribcage to his cheek to his hair. I bury the fingers of one hand in his unruly hair and tilt my head back as the burning sensation turns into a less urgent pain and subsides.

"That's it!" he praises me and slides out of me, only to penetrate me more firmly the next moment.

I press my lips into the crook of his neck and lick and suck at his skin. "Austin," I moan, overwhelmed.

"You take me so well, babygirl." He gyrates his hips and new sensations race through my body again. My toes curl and I wrap one leg around his hips. He sucks on my neck and scratches my sweaty skin with his mouth and teeth open. "You smell so good."

I melt under him. Why does he say he can't do the romantic thing?

Before I can follow the loose thread of thoughts in my head, he lifts his head and his eyes lock on me. His fingers slide from my neck to my throat and wrap around it. I blink at him under half-lowered lids and then his thumb slides over my parted lips and he grins wolfishly. His eyes darken as my hot breath hits his thumb and then something unexpected happens. The grip of his hand around my neck tightens. He squeezes the air out of me with controlled pressure. It's close to the pain threshold and I panic.

The corners of his mouth twitch devilishly and his eyes darken. He savours the hint of my panic and as I slide my hands out of his hair and around his wrist, he intensifies his gyrating hip movements. I groan again and notice a tingling sensation building in the depths of my muscles…just like before when he knelt between my legs. I swallow restricted by his hand and the grin on his lips darkens into something…more dangerous, more unbreakable.

In something that really scares me. Scraps of memories from the past few hours appear before my eyes. Austin's first grab for my wrist at the bar, then the gruelling back and forth of our gazes across the evening, to the fight with Benny, and his lips between my thighs.

Austin narrows his eyes and licks his pink lips. His thrusts alternate between fast, and slow and hard. Then he changes the angle of his hips, leaning from his elbow back onto his hand. He wraps his fingers around my neck a few shades tighter and I gasp slightly.

Panic flutters over my body and I try to squeeze my legs together. But with him between my legs and over my body, I hardly have a chance to defend myself or move. He enjoys my reluctance and takes pleasure in my burgeoning panic. Sick bastard!

"Yes," he grins devilishly. "Lose yourself in desire, babygirl." His thumbnail traces my lip and then slides into my mouth. My vision blurs and I suck on his thumb. He growls and suddenly there's no holding back. Austin speeds up his movements; sliding in and out of me, again and again with heavy breaths, and I melt beneath him.

The panic and my desire for redemption are close together. I can't keep the two feelings apart as they blur and send hot, cold shivers through me.

"You look so pretty underneath me," he whispers. "So fragile," he pushes hard again. "So wonderfully dishevelled," another hard thrust. "…and so fucking wet around my cock. Do you like that, babygirl?" His thrusts are hard on the edge of pain and as the tingling continues to brew in my stomach, spreading through my arms and legs, my eyes begin to water.

"Austin", I shout. Go easy on me, I beg silently. The grip of my hands around his forearm weakens and as he realises this, he loosens his vice-like grip and oxygen floods my airways.

I gasp and scream with pleasure as my orgasm approaches. "Come for me," Austin whispers, breathing heavily, and I burst into a million pieces. He thrusts hard a few more times until he comes too and pours my name into me, panting.

While I try to calm my racing pulse, my thoughts sink into chaos. Wow… that was amazing. That was… erotic and psychotic.

He lowers himself onto his elbows and presses his entire body weight onto me. He breathes loudly and heavily into the crook of my neck and I pull out my arms, which are now trapped between us, and wrap them around his neck. His muscles twitch under my fingers and he is still inside me. Then he lifts his head slowly and looks at me with a dark gaze. The unstoppable storm in his eyes has receded and for a brief moment I think I recognise something like warmth and tenderness on his face, but then he shuts up again.

Austin kisses me softly and then murmurs as he looks at me, "I've never seen soemthing that was so beautiful while I was breaking it."

It's strange that he says something like that. Basically, I don't feel broken, just cracked open. I swallow, barely comprehending his words. Austin has cracked my hard shell, and sticky, sweet infatuation oozes out of me.

He slowly slides out of me and I close my eyes. "Oh." I wince at the unfamiliar sensation and immediately wrap my arms tighter around his back as he try to stand up. "Please stay. Just a minute."

Confusion flickers in his eyes again, but he nods almost imperceptibly and lowers his face into the crook of my neck. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing, but asking him to stay feels terribly intimate. Austin isn't the kind of guy you cuddle with, but a tiny spark of hope ignites in my chest as he relaxes over me and stays put.

I run my fingers through his slightly sweaty hair and enjoy the weight of his body on me. "Are you okay?" he asks, still hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

I hesitate and close my eyes. For a moment, I hush inside my body. A bittersweet burning sensation sets in between my legs now that the arousal has subsided and my muscles feel heavy. Tomorrow I will have sore muscles everywhere. A giggle escapes me and he lifts his head. I slap a hand over my mouth and mumble, "Sorry. It's just so ironic that you ask me that after you…well…choked me."

His blue eyes glow. "I'm well aware of that," he says dryly, lowering his gaze to my neck. His fingertips gently stroke the sensitive skin and I sigh silently. "Was I too rough? I know I can be pretty wild", he adds.

Pretty wild and hot. A little scary and controlling, but hot. I give him a gentle smile and kiss his jaw. "I'm okay, but thank you."

Now that he has cracked my hard shell, the feelings just bubble out of me. Butterflies are dancing around in my stomach and I know that things will only get worse from here on out.

I feel strangely cared for as he rubs his knuckles over my neck and whispers: "Your skin is so beautifully red from my hands." He drags his thumbnail across the edge of my chin and my toes tense. My body twitches beneath him and he grins triumphantly.

Then he leans towards me and kisses me tenderly. Just as I'm about to lose myself in his lips, he ends the kiss and makes an effort to get up.

That's it now, isn't it, I think disappointedly. No, that can't be all. My subconscious lazily lifts its little head and blinks at me. Where has it been for the last hour? It eyes me skeptically and shakes my shoulders. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth. Understand that he doesn't stand for romance. He's rough, wild and unrestrained. I grin mischievously at the thought.

I watch Austin stand up and reach for his boxers and jeans. He quickly puts them on and when he reaches for his shirt, I'm on my feet in a flash and pick it up off the floor. He gives me a wolfish, playful look.

"What are you doing, babygirl?" he asks, clicking his tongue.

I realize I'm still completely naked, and in another situation I'd be damn uncomfortable, but I try to stop him. At the ridiculous performance, my sense of honor props his face in his small hands and shakes his head. Fuck that! This can't be the end.

"I don't want you to go." The words pass my lips before I can stop them and his eyes widen.

Then he looks at me very seriously and comes towards me. He reaches out a hand and curls it around the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not staying the night-guy. I'm just not like that, babygirl," he states dryly.

Everything inside me roars. I know, I know. I press his shirt against my bare breasts with both fists. The bitter disappointment that he wants to leave and leave me alone hits me unexpectedly. Even though the sensible part of me had foreseen all of this.

"So you're done with me now after you broke me?" I sound more emotional than I should. I taste the bitter truth of my words on my tongue. Austin blinks at me, startled by my emotional outburst, and rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

"Don't do that. Don't make it so hard on yourself, Elizabeth," he murmurs. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. I'm not your prince in shining armor."

I squint my eyes. "Obviously." I sound hurt and biting. He takes a step closer to rip the shirt from my hands. I shake my head, barely noticing. I dare him to do that!

"So I'm only worth one fuck?" I then ask, suppressing the trembling in my voice with all my might. "Got it. that you won't take me out or love me, but do you have to be such a bastard. You just took my virginity and you're so - ah -," I mumble angrily, my tongue flicking out of my mouth. "…such a fucking bastard! Couldn't you at least have had the decency to cuddle me for a few more minutes?"

Austin grinds his jaw and his blue eyes flash emotionlessly. The hardness in his gaze makes my blood freeze in my veins. "It's better if you're angry with me. Hate me if you have to, but don't fall in love with me. You don't want me in your life," he makes it clear and rips the shirt from my hands.

Too late, I think.

"It scares you," I say, startled. As the words slip past my lips, his eyes widen and he freezes in front of me. Apparently I've hit the bull's eye. "You finally care about something in life besides your MC and now you're trying to push me away by being disgusting to me. Stop it, you son of a bitch!"

Austin growls. "No, you're wrong." He leans his lips so close to my ear that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. "That didn't mean anything to me with you. It was just a fuck."

My pulse quickens and I jut my chin out. Even though his words hit me hard, I blink into his eyes and murmur, "If it didn't mean anything to you, you can spend the night with me. It wouldn't change anything, right?" I raise an eyebrow defiantly, and the moment Austin inhales loudly through his nose and licks his lips, I know I've hit his sense of honor.

Maybe my provocation is pathetic and maybe I'm making a fool of myself because it really meant nothing to him, but in the way his muscles tense and the corners of his mouth twitch, I know I've found a vulnerable spot.

"Fine," he grumbles in a low voice. "As soon as the sun comes up, I'm gone. Come here." I can hardly believe my triumph and I stifle a squeak with all my might. His big hand clasps mine and pulls me towards him. "Lift your arms," he instructs me and pulls his muscle shirt over me. Then he picks up my panties and helps me into them. I watch him without comment and bathe in the tingling waves of my little victory.

He walks with me by the hand to the couch and lies down. His back is half leaning against the backrest and when he spreads his legs and pulls me between them, I almost trip over my feet. Austin wraps his arms around me and looks tense as I rest my cheek on his bare chest. I close my eyes and just before I fall into a dreamless sleep, I feel his fingers stroking my hair and a soft, husky voice. "Maybe you just mean too much to me."

Hey FELLAS ❤️

OMG, I can't even believe I wrote this emotional and steamy adventure! Please commet down below your thoughts and feedback! It would mean the world to me if you reblog the post, show it to your friends and community or like it 🫢

It would make me the happierst author in the world if you (my fave people) commet down belong.

tagging: @bloodynereid @obsessedvibee @avonne-writes @austinbutlermischief @austinbutlerslovers @hogans-heroes @sempervera @sagesolsticewrites

xoxo callumsgirl

[real-total-drama-takes]

This took a while because I dug up old emails and rang some people from my childhood for this, including my father who I haven't seen for three years. Here's how the Duncan, Courtney and Gwen saga caused my parents to divorce.

I was like 10 when World Tour came out and I used to watch it with one of my neighbours when each episode aired. We were at that sort of obsessed age where it was all we talked about, so we'd not shut the fuck up about it, I think I still have some Gwen fanart I drew. Anyway, when the greek episode aired, we got way too excited and replayed the the part we recorded a couple of times. By the time we were finished she missed curfew for about 30 minutes and I went to bed.

I woke up, with both parents gone from the home and my grandmother bringing me to her house. For about a week I stayed with her in total confusion not knowing anything, until my mother came and brought me home, my father not there. She said they split up, I was bummed but honestly more bummed that she, for some reason, banned me from ever watching Total Drama again.

It took me about 5 years until I found out what happened that night.

My friend ran home, and tried to get food from her kitchen without alerting her mom. But she was 10, so it didn't work. Her mom was pissed she came home late and without eating, started lecturing her while she made excuses. At one point she said something along the lines of "But mom! Courtney found out Duncan kissed Gwen." And that made her mom stop. Her mom asked again, she replied "Courtney found out he kissed her best friend, and she lost it"

Something happened, between the eating the food and the rushed speech, that her mother only heard "Courtney found out *gibberish* kissed gw*gibberish*"

A little bit of context I should add. My mothers name is Courtney. Well, Kourtney.

Another little bit of context.

My father was having an affair with my neighbours mother, my moms best friend.

Somewhere between the chewing, the speech impediment or just her mothers fear, she thought my mother had found out about the affair.

She sent my friend to her room and banned her from ever speaking to me again.

She called my father who was at work to tell him, so he freaked out and tried to get flowers and gifts to, I guess soften the blow?

So when he walked in to the house, flowers in hand, mistress following behind apologising, my mother didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

I don't know the specifics of what happened next, but I asked my father and he said that my mother attacked him & the mistress, and forced him out of the house. He, in turn, "reprimanded" (read, beat the shit out of) the other woman and got sent to jail. Overnight my mother decided to send me to her mother while she sorted things out around the house and asked my friends mother what the hell went on, and then filed for divorce from my father.

I didn't know this until I contacted my friend again, but there were three other consequences of the Duncan, Courtney Gwen saga (remember this is what was about). 1. My friends mother lost her position in the church due to the affair being revealed. 2. My father called in cps and alleged neglect in the home, sending my friend into foster care for a period of time. And 3. It came out about four years ago that the youngest sibling of my friend was biologically my fathers.

I didn't watch Total Drama again until I was 19. I started at the episode I never got to see, The Ex Files.

When Boyfriend Kisser came out it physically pained me so much I switched off the episode and didn't go back to it for another year.

TLDR- Not only did the Duncan, Courtney and Gwen saga cause my parents to divorce, it caused multiple physical assaults, a woman losing her job and a group of siblings going into foster care.

All for Boyfriend Kisser, the worst song I have ever heard

.

[dangerously-human]

Hectic week, not in a bad way, but I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet at some point. Spent the weekend visiting my sister (plus dinner with a friend along the way), and Monday we saw The Band CAMINO, which was a really good show, even with the lead vocalist still recovering from vocal rest - they got creative to work with it. Tuesday was the long drive home - I only got a little sick this time! - and then got home to discover my midterm had started two hours early, as I already ranted about. Then up late listening to the Phillies shut out the D-backs, and up late again on Wednesday after Bible study (but that was totally my fault for forgetting to eat). Baseball with the young whippersnapper Thursday and then work writing till 1am, but no sleep to be had the next day, of course, worked from former work bff's house (which meant leaving earlyish) and then, despite my intention to log off early, big unpleasant data problem cropped up, so long kind of day. (Also had a meeting with research fellows to give them feedback on their projects from the autistic perspective, which was pretty fun.) Then baseball at my parents' house (another loss, boo) and getting home at 1am, and getting up early this morning to drive up to the mountains for some fall foliage fun with the Bible study bunch. Which was awesome, even if I'm slightly salty that meant I couldn't do Clustercon - I'll have to catch posts and recordings later! - and still a little bummed we missed out on the Ren Faire twice, but this was a very good replacement. Now we're heading home for pumpkin carving together, then more baseball, and at some point I gotta prep to teach my preteens in Sunday school tomorrow... Maybe a post-church nap, if I'm lucky?

[littlerosette]

I’d love to hear about your original stories! Whatever you wanna share about them ❤️

oh god i have so many😭 most of them are still half-formed and mostly ~vibes~ but i’m gonna count them! to make things simple, im going to refer to them as basic words/phrases because they don’t have titles.

ancient greece story: probably my oldest. i don’t know if you guys have noticed by now, but im a Huge history buff, especially for antiquity. i adore ancient history (notably the greeks, mesopotamians, egyptians, etc). that period of time has an almost mystical quality to it that i love because there are so many unknowns, but ANYWAY! this idea is basically my spin on twelfth night by william shakespeare but in ancient greece (originally conceptualized to be in athens but they were so comedically restrictive of women that i might have to reasses😭). so, a scholastic, noble woman takes the place of her twin brother to pursue an education that’s been banned from her to receive. she’s disguised herself as a boy to do so and ends up forming a connection with a male student she meets there. at some point, he finds out that she’s a woman and takes it upon himself to pursue her. this causes a lot of angst for her. basically, it’s an academic rivals to lovers romcom set in ancient greece lol. idk if it’s too silly for the time period but i’m really intrigued by how romance could happen in a place where gender roles are just So restrictive and absolute.

character names: lysander (25) & elaina (19)

jaws of the lamb: y’all should probably be pretty familiar with this. i think it’s my best idea so far. it was originally conceptualized as an eremika fic (which it might still end up becoming. anyway) but i like the idea of it being it’s own story as well. anyway, it’s the final girl trope but spun as a twisted love story. a young woman meets and unwittingly falls in love with a serial killer who’s been terrorizing their college campus. the format is non-linear, often going from past to present until they both meet in the middle. the present is the aftermath of the killings where the murderer has already been arrested. the past is them falling in love and the grand reveal of the killer’s identity (along with the slashy-horror of a final girl confrontation). i also think of the story as a metaphor for addiction with all of its highs, lows, and periods of intense shame.

characters: christiana | christy (24) & aaron (24)

hot for priest: apologies going forward but i was raised catholic, so. this is what i have written on the doc for the plot: After experiencing the death of her mother, a young woman meets a priest at her old Church that used to be a close childhood friend of hers. Despite her being engaged, things swiftly descend into chaos as they embark on an emotional affair that ruins all of their lives. (ngl i also like this as an everlark fic).

background to this: i’ve read a couple priest romances at this point and been largely dissatisfied with many of them. i know that priests have become like firefighters at this point in that they’re jobs that become fantasy fuel for women, but i’m a little annoyed by how many priest “romances” focus solely on smut instead of romance. i like good smut as much as any other girl, but i often find it hollow if there’s not a story/relationship that i’m really rooting for. i also think a lot of writers forsake the inevitable catholic guilt in service of more smut, which is a missed opportunity imo and not even mutually exclusive. i always kind of roll my eyes when we get to the sex and the priest is like some kind of kinky dominant who makes a round last five hours and doesn’t care that he broke one of the most sacred vows of his job, which is to Not fuck. catholic guilt and shame is very fun for me to think about conceptually, so i’m a little bummed it’s not used more. this story is ALL catholic guilt and romance. this is also why fleabag is one of my favorite shows. it doesn’t shy away from the conflict of a man choosing between god and love. the thorn birds is also great in this respect.

characters: naomi (28) & peter (31).

death’s the lover: NOT an original story but i did come up with original names if i ever fixed the story up enough to publish.

characters: hina antanova (22) & ilya kaverin (22)

(i even came up with different physical descriptions for them lol).

thank you for this question! i love explaining this stuff. please feel free to ask me about any of them!

[the-strawberry-journey]

Days Two and Three

Sorry I missed posting yesterday! It was crazy.

8.16.22

Yesterday was, again, a bit wobbly.

I started off alright. I was still late getting out of bed. I think I either need to wake up earlier or cut down on the time I call my fiance. He's on deployment overseas (pray for him!) and the time difference is hard, so I'm taking advantage of every second I can get with him.

Yesterday was my sister's birthday, so she and I went out and had a fun day of shopping. It was tiring, but fun! The rest of the day was pretty okay, and I used my scheduled free time to start doing some organization and bake my sister a cake.

And I missed the time for my fiance to be able to call me.

When I tell you I had a mental breakdown--

I'm not just a clingy whiny baby though, life has been weighing on me pretty heavily recently, and the devil has been hard at it with his temptations to despair. Missing the last possible chance to say goodnight to my fiance just so happened to be the last straw.

So I had a huge breakdown last night! But it wasn't all bad, he actually was able to step out of his work for a second (which turned into 40 minutes) to call me and try to comfort me. God bless him.

Yesterday was rough! But we made it through alive, and I'm glad for that.

Please pray for me 😅😅😅

8.17.22

Today was mediocre as well. It's my last day of freedom, so I fudged on the schedule a bit (bad strawberry. I know). I got up at the right time, but again, talked to my fiance for longer than I had expected to (the schedule has to be altered. I'm bummed though because I already printed AND LAMINATED it 😅). I spent my last day of freedom having lunch with a friend after making some recordings of the two of us playing organ and violin together at our church. After that, I went home for a while and had the house all to myself, which is VERY rare and therefore very refreshing.

Our church choir practices started up today, so in the evening I attended that. It wasn't bad, but I'm glad it passed quickly and we let out early. I love singing but I was having a hard time.

I've gotten a headache every day for the past three days, so prayers for my physical and mental health would be much appreciated!

Thank you to everyone who is silently cheering me on from behind the screen. I think I would give up if not for y'all's support. ❤️

I start my classes tomorrow. Say a prayer that all goes well!

[llynwen]

wow! That was such an enlightening and beautiful answer to my question, thank you so very much, and congratulations on graduating soon🎉! I felt that same thrill of recognition seeing the people and their homes on the show, because yes poverty really is the same all over. I live in a blue collar town in northeast America, with forested hills instead of wetlands and logging instead of fishing, but I look at their clothes, at the places they hang out, at the porches and lawns filled with clutter and machine parts nestled between the trees, at the small dark house interiors, and I think "this all could've been filmed down the street from me." It must look depressing to others but I find comfort in the familiarity. We're all just surviving as best we can nestled in the detritus of abandoned industry and reclaiming nature, keeping our lives manageably small with little daily tasks and rewards, and beyond our town limits the land itself infinite as space. I guess that bigness is what sets apart American life, thousands of people go missing in the wilderness every year and it's just taken as a given. There's a whole plane that crashed in a Vermont forest in the 80s which I believe still hasn't been found. One thing not shown onscreen, and I don't mind this since true detective is a horror drama and it wouldn't fit the tone, are the threads of community we maintain—church suppers, family game and movie nights at the library, small town festivals, Christmas tree lightings in the square and such. Life is a patchwork of privation and joy.

One thing I will advise you about if you come here (welcome btw) is picking the state with the best resources for you. Montana is gorgeous but the New England states have the best healthcare, and the east coast in general has the most public transit with our trainlines. If what matters is the job than you can visit anywhere I guess, but outside of the cities you better have a coworker/host with a reliable car willing to drive you around, because otherwise you will be stuck and lonely in the miles between anywhere. We joke about Rust being a passenger princess but bumming rides is a way of life here. Other than that, don't whistle at night in the southwest, always being more money than you think is needed to the store, look up any Indigenous nation near where you stay to maybe visit their cultural center, and have a good time!

hi again! so sorry for taking this long to respond, I've been busy with school and other shit, you know how it is

america is such a fascinating and complex place fr, and the negative aspects of it you mention were never shown in the media i (and may other europeans) consume. we're fed this image of this perfect land of the free american dream you can achieve anything if you work hard enough self made man kind of thing. but I'm glad to hear that you have this community - in my experience, that is not really the case here. i hardly ever talk to my neighbors (occasional good mornings and that about it), i don't go to church, but the people who do also don't really know one another, people only every talk to their family members and friends from places like school and work. i feel like in this aspect we could for sure learn from y'all.

when i do come visit I'm pretty sure it wont be permanent (unless chevy does actually wife me, then who knows). i just want to get a taste of that cowboy life i crave so much. i want to see the national parks (hope i don't go missing) and spend some time in the Space of it all. I am aware of the lack of public transport and i am prepared to drive everywhere, but thank you for the heads up. i also know about tax not being included in prices of stuff - which, what the fuck. that's so stupid. same with tipping - why not just pay workers living wages? I will for sure be taking the time to visit the Indigenous people in the places where I'll be staying. I'm actually writing my master's thesis about the Anishinaabe and Inuit people, and even though my area of focus is canada I'm sure I'll learn a great deal from the Indigenous people of the us as well.

thank you again for talking to me (and for your patience), and I'd really love for you to come off anon, be it in my dm's or under this post. I'd love to talk more about the show in general or just cultural issues. but no pressure!

[0pticblast]

Day 3

I installed Tumblr on my phone so I can write as I go since I'm not on my desktop all the time.

I listed cards while speaking to my high school bestie and her husband. It sucks how I've been getting taken advantage of in my fantasy bball league. They told me next time when a trade gets proposed to show them since they know whether or not it's fair. I had 3 more proposals and it just upsets me how low ball they were. I saved money buying breakfast by eating a good 30% of my cereal. I was able to nap and go to church afterwards.

I met up with my cousin JJ at Perfect Rares to practice and catch up with some friends. They said that they miss seeing me around and I told them that I need to focus on my health. I picked up JJ's cards and competed last minute. I got 0-4 which bummed it up a little. I think I can make this deck work, I just need to do my 10,000 hours.

I saw Ashley afterwards to pick up supplies for our order. Someone finally offered/counteroffered correctly and made a Funko POP sale. I went to Cali Tacos to order Angel Fries and it was a long wait. Crazy enough I ran into my coworker and he's a chill guy. I was also able to strike a conversation at the salsa bar because we touched hands reaching for the salsa cups. She said she likes my NERD hoodie I wore and that Pharrell is one of her favorite artists.

I got home and food coma'd, Albertacos is the OG but Cali Tacos gives hella portions. I sent photos to Brenda, I miss her and it's dumb. We text here and there but she's not a priority. I started feeling sad when I went downstairs to work on cards. One was because the box I got doesn't fit our order so I need to find a box that fits ASAP. I also got sad because it's the holidays. All the dumb cheesy Christmas movies are out and I don't have anyone to watch it with. I haven't felt this feeling of loneliness in a long time.

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 8/27/2022

Are you listening?

I ask myself this question a lot. I wonder if you hear the things I say out loud, or the songs that I sing to help me process all of this. I still find myself talking to you about things that I normally would have if you were here. And it’s not that I expect anything (obviously) but I feel a sense of comfort. I miss being able to tell you all the stuff and all the things. I find so many videos on Instagram that are just so silly, and you’re always the first person I want to send them to. It’s truly those little things like that. 

Today I laid in bed until about 7:30am and then got up to walk Sadie. Then, I ordered Public Square and walked to the bank to deposit a check. I have likely mentioned this already, but I have been walking a lot more recently since I cannot run. It has really helped me stay centered.

When I was walking toward Public Square, a June bug started to fly around me. I got this gut feeling that it may have been you, and then as soon as I started to doubt that it came up and ran into my chest. Can’t remember if I had mentioned this, but the other night I had a dream about trying to catch a lot of June bugs. I read that spirits / angels will use June bugs. A couple days after you passed I did have another one dive-bomb me so, who knows. Maybe. It was just awkwardly funny this past time because there was a gentleman walking his dog behind me and I got startled by it and he was like “did I scare you?” (LOL). 

I was able to get a couple loads of laundry done today. I really have been trying to be somewhat productive on my days off. I still have 1-2 more loads, but I will just get those done tomorrow. I cannot do laundry without thinking about the time you almost burned our building down. You were such a goober. But you were my goober. 

Logan had a baseball game at 2:10pm, so I decided to meet up with my parents and family friends to watch the game. Unfortunately there were so many kiddos playing that Logan only got to bat twice. He played well today though! It’s so fun watching him. I also talked to my family friend about her job, because she works in mental health as a Recreation Therapist. We had a good conversation, I think I really just need to figure out where my heart and God are taking me. I feel this need to help the recovery community, but I think I need to open my heart more. This will be how I will be able to figure out what is meant for me. I want to leave a legacy, and continues yours as well. 

After the game I came home, took a power, nap, then met up with Teague for dinner. I am pretty bummed that you never got to meet him / he never got to meet you. Teague is a college friend, and has been incredible supportive throughout everything. We met up at the Brigantine for dinner, then came back to the apartment to walk Sadie and just talk. It was nice to talk to him because he was very reassuring and reaffirming that this grief process is on MY timeline and no one else’s. Everyone is going to think they know what’s best for me, or that they think something is too soon (or I am holding on to too much), but they don’t know. This going to sound really harsh, but I have been saying until you experience your partner violently killing themselves, you don’t know how I feel, so don’t try and pretend like you can even imagine. And look, I don’t mean don’t have the empathy and that I don’t want/ appreciate the love and support, it’s more the people that are like “I feel your pain”. No, you don’t. I am sorry, but it’s different. Anyway, short rant over. Teague gets that he doesn’t get it and I really appreciate that. I hope no one that I know ever has to ensure this pain. 

Tomorrow morning I have a meeting with someone from Church before the service, then I have service right after. I figured I would take Sadie to camp since I would be gone for most of the day. She really loves it there. 

Missing you. Always missing you. 

I am trying, James. I really am. 

I hope you are living your best life in heaven. 

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols. 

“I love you to the sea, I love you like the tidal wave  That cast me away, When it washed me back to shore, The first arms that found me were, yours<3″

[fablesofkitkat]

pov: keeping it casual with Shiggy and Dabi

warning: suggestive / lime af

DISCLAIMER: this doesn't belong to the [Cherry, I run] timeline nor [can the world cease to exist?] timeline. I didn't want to write this pov because I felt like I haven't done enough character analysis on both Shiggy and Dabi to write them in the same pov; but a friend told me if I keep pussyfooting over writing two characters at once, how can I practice versatility in writing?

everyone is in LEGAL AGE in this pov.

if you want me to tag you on any Dabi povs or Shigaraki povs I'll write, let me know

"You look like you're the life of a party."

Shigaraki takes a side glance at you and a subtle scan to your body. His eyes lighted with curiousity and appreciation with your choice of outfit: a high neck tank top mesh, a dark indigo fitch lace bralette, a black high waisted skirt that hugged your hips nicely and black stilettos.

"And you look like you're going to church." He gave you a smile, turning his whole body to you.

You and Shigaraki were both seated on the bar stools. There were still alot of seats available, not that it was still early, it's just that it isn't midnight yet and clubgoers were only starting to get in. He takes a sip from his drink, tasting the whiskey followed by a hint of sweetness, mixed with herbal, bitter notes.

You giggled. "Amen to that."

It was always nice to meet someone who understands sarcasm, you thought. Your eyes roamed his form appreciatively, his long sleeved shirt fitted him nicely and there was something so charismatic about the man, you couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Sazerac?" He offered, gesturing to his drink. You nodded and he waves the bartender down, buying it for you. "Tell me something, church little miss. Why me?"

"Hmm?" You distractedly watch the bartender prepare your drink.

"You're planning on sleeping with me. Why?" He takes another sip. "We both know interactions like this don't end as innocent."

You demuredly smiled at him, an enticing provocation when you're dressed ready to f–

"I didn't want those guys at the dance floor who grinds themselves all over me. I want someone different, a little intellectual stimulation." You tilt your head and leaned towards him; your lips curled in a secretive smile.  "A little foreplay, ya think?"

A bolt of heat shoots all over Shigaraki. It must be the sazerac. He's gotta admit that your boldness is quite attractive to him.

"You ever had it good?"

You snapped your eyes back to his. He caught you staring at his groin. To be fair, you were curious with his... package."What?" You asked, smiling seductively.

He cocks his head to the bartender.  "The drink. Sazerac."

You flushed, thinking he was talking about sex. Now you're just embarrassed. "Oh, what do you mean?"

Shigaraki leans close to you like how you did earlier. Like sharing a little secret. His breath smells like whiskey, with hints of cherry and spice. A dry sardonic aroma. Dammit, why does the scent turn you on?

He cups your chin with his right hand, the texture of his thumb sleeve brings goosebumps to you. He turns your head to the bartender. "After mixing the sazerac to one of the glass, the other is rinsed with absinthe before finally pouring the drink to it. If the bartender doesn't do that when you order a sazerac,  hop to a different bar."

You watch the bartender do exactly what he just said. You feel his thumb sleeve coyly touching the edge of your bottom lip, slowly following the curve of your chin, down to the curve of your throat, he pressed the spot aligned with your vocal fold that you let out a little gasp, or a squeak. His other hand is grabbing your thigh, preventing your legs from closing to relieve some of the ache.

"Ah-ah-ah." His voice deep but sing-song. "You don't get to close your legs with me here."

---

Dabi was randomly watching himself blow circles to the ceiling in the smoke room. When he hears the door slide open and you appeared, trying to catch your breath. He took an observation at you and found himself attracted to the way your chest heaved. Not that it wasn't a common sight for him, what with women flocking towards him whichever club he went to. He blew a circle in your direction, meeting your eyes critically. He smiled at the snooty, upturned nose you did and the way you rolled your eyes.

"This is the wrong place to try and catch a breath." He greeted.

"I wasn't trying to catch my breath." You patted your chest, slowly getting your breaths to slow down.

He raised an eyebrow at your reply.

"Yes, I was. But I was trying to run from a creep who wouldn't take no for an answer and you're pretty intimidating, so I was hoping to bum on your presence 'til he's gone." You explained.

Dabi couldn't stop staring at how, despite being seen disheveled just now, you casually primped yourself with a compact mirror. It amused him so since no one really cared what people looked like after spending a few hours at the club, usually everyone would be a hot mess. He found you cute.

"What's in it for me?" He drew a breath from the shisha and blew it again lazily at you.

You eye him critically, pursing your lips. "My wonderful company."

"So I get to take you home?"

"No. My company is only available within the duration of my stay here."

"Pity." With mocking a tone, he smirked at you. "But then again, you seem like you're too vanilla anyways. Can't have sex without being in love with someone?"

Dabi watches how your eyes glinted menacingly, a silent vow to prove him wrong. He anticipates how you crossed the room from the door to him, his heart jumped when your fingers brushed his as you took the pipe from his hand. You took a deep long breath, leaned down and blew sweet, sweet smoke in his mouth. He closed his eyes as the tobacco filled his nostrils, along with your scent. It takes everything in him to just let the smoke trail all over his mouth, and not let his lips press against yours.

" Your many piercings seem like you're overcompensating for something. What, you don't want people to know you're the one who's actually vanilla?"

He opens his eyes and a lazy smirk settles on his lips. He grabs the pipe back and blows the smoke to your mouth just hairsbreadth from you. "Why don't we find out then?"

You feel the way the air moved with his lips. It was so close. It was electric. His eyes daring you to close the distance. You took up his challenge of course.

---

"Oh, ffuuuck." You awkwardly stand by the door when you find Shigaraki and Dabi glaring at each other in the living room

"Who the fuck is he?" Dabi demanded

Shigaraki only glares at him and then turns towards you.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. Uhmm Dabi meet Shigaraki, my fubu. Shigaraki meet Dabi, my not-serious bf which basically is just another word for fubu." You awkwardly shuffled your feet. "I guess I had too much to drink, I accidentally texted the other and here you are... two... Hahaha..." Kami, you just made a huge awkward mistake. Dammit, you're gonna lose them both.

"Which one of us did you text first?" Shiggy asked.

"Which one does it better?" Dabi asked.

They exchanged glares at their simultaneous questions.

"Um–"

Suddenly, they are both on you; Shiggy cups your face, kissing you angrily, biting your lips til they bleed while Dabi is behind you, cupping your chest as he slowly takes off your clothes. Dabi kisses the spot behind you're neck, nipping your skin 'til there's all but teeth marks on your shoulder blades.

"I'm not stopping–" Both glared at each other for saying things at the same time again.

You moaned when Dabi starts press his hips on you while Shigaraki's hands unbutton your jeans, and finally touching you there.

"We're not stopping–" Dabi's hot breath fanned your right ear.

Shigaraki's low quiet rasp on your left ear. "–not until you know which one of us can do you better."

---

AN:

[Cherry, I run] Dabi is screaming betrayal at me rn. Dw Dabi, this version of you has less issues than usual. [can the world cease to exist?" Shiggy is ignoring me, telling me he wouldn't share reader. ever.

[nastyatticman]

quickie on campus

Billy Lenz x gender neutral Reader

Summary - Billy can tell you’re bummed out that winter break is over, so he takes it on himself to surprise you at school.

Contains - Smut & tons of fluff. Reader is gender neutral & has a vulva. Semi public sex, dirty talk, quickie.

18+ Only

You make it about three steps out of the classroom before you’re tackled into a hug by your boyfriend.

It’s very welcome. You happily accept it, nuzzling into his fluffy hair. He smells nice and fresh, like he showered since he met you in the morning to have snacks before your second class.

Your first day back from the holiday break was supposed to be the most depressing day of the school year, and it didn’t help that your new schedule was so hectic. Luckily, Billy wasn’t on any particular schedule himself, so he could meet you just about any time. Well, except for a certain time next week when he was going to go in for a job interview. Shoot, you still needed to help him prepare for that…

He wasn’t a student, but he looked like any other twenty-something guy on campus, so he could fit in easily enough when he went to meet you.

This morning he’d hinted that he would look for the best, most discreet places on campus for you two to meet up while you had your last break between class and lab. He’d studied your schedule - even before you’d asked him - and found you had a juicy 34 minutes to fool around. Or what he called stress relief.

Now it may be something like 33 minutes, as you untangle from his hug. He presses a kiss on your cheek boldly, and holds his hand out to take your book bag. “Ready?” 

You nod, and let him take you to the place he’s found. He doesn’t specify where, just that he wants it to be a surprise… 

A couple times on the way you pass people you know and wave at each other. Mostly old classmates. Billy turns to you and when you smile and nod he waves back uneasily. 

Even though he knew you held him near and dear in your heart, Billy still felt a twinge of insecurity when he saw people you knew from school or work or well, anywhere that wasn’t the attic of the place you shared with friends during the school year. It was like they got to see another part of you, while he still had to be secret in some ways. Sure, that part of you didn’t include your whole sense of humor or what you looked like when you were desperate for a good fucking - that was all for Billy - he still felt he missed out.

You squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles, and he softens.

He takes you to an obscure part of the campus - not many people around, luckily, as the classrooms here are for a department that’s not as popular as it used to be. You can tell you’re probably really close, as he starts getting more fidgety, and the hand you were holding is now around your waist, bringing you closer to him. 

As you pass through another hallway, you see someone you know.

“Oh, hey! How was your break?” she asks. 

Billy turns to her, and then looks at you, waiting for your response. 

“Pretty good, thanks!” you answer her. You’re trying not to be rude, as you recognize her as a former classmate you’d wanted to hang out with more, but her name is on the tip of your tongue and your boyfriend is not so subtly trying to pull you with him. 

“And who’s this?” she asks. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” 

You know her tone is teasing but it still sets Billy on edge, so when he turns to you you smile and nod.

“I could introduce you?” you offer. He nods, grateful. “This is my boyfriend, Billy, and this is…”

“Robin,” she says, and puts her hand out to shake his. Thank god, you couldn’t remember her name for the life of you.

He fumbles with your bag and they switch hands, mirroring each other, before they realize they need to use their opposite hands to shake. She laughs and so does he, nervous but starting to warm up to her.

“I was just about to go to the cafe, if you wanted to come with me?” she says. “A lot of stuff happened over break for me, I have some good stories about directing my church’s Christmas pageant if you wanna hear? Not quite as good as your stories, of course, but I figured you’d have something juicy to share with me too. Speaking of, Billy can 100% join us if he wants.”

He giggles when he realizes what she just called him. Juicy. You could confirm that.

“Maybe not today,” you say finally. “I don’t have very long before my next class and we wanted to just chill, y’know? But I’ll text you and we can figure out a better time to meet?”

She looks a little disappointed but she’s pleased to be in touch. “Alright. Let me know what works for you! See you later then.”

You nod and say goodbye back, and watch her disappear down the hallway.

The coast is clear for him to take you to the spot - tucked in across from another building, there’s an entrance that opens into an area that’s completely obscured from view on all sides. Jackpot.

He sets your bag down on the floor gently, and turns to you, pinning you against the wall.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, pressing kisses up your jawline.

You check your watch. “About 21 minutes. But wait, it’ll probably be five to walk to my class, so…”

“Sixteen minutes, I can do that,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him, and set a timer on your phone just in case. He was never great at time management, and neither were you when it came to having Billy’s hands on you...

Billy peels away from you to kneel on the floor, undoing the front of your pants, and pulling them down with your underwear. 

“Billy!” you hiss softly. He was never one to wait around when it came to quickies, but still. The winter air is cold on your thighs.

“Keep watch for me, will you?” he asks as he looks up at you, rubbing your clit with one hand, while the other squeezes your ass.

You nod, the pleasure starting to set in. He’s facing towards you and the wall so you’d have to. People didn’t come by this area normally, but it was a good thing you had a long jacket on to cover up if anyone did. 

Besides, Billy’s head would block them from seeing you. Especially since he  moves closer, his tongue pressing against your clit as his fingers move down to tease your hole.

He licks and sucks your clit, as he uses two fingers to tease at opening you up for him. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to keep from letting out a moan.

He pulls back to look up at you, not letting up on you for a second as his skilled fingers rip more pleasure from you. 

“That’s right, keep quiet, sloppy little piggy,” he teases. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you. What would your little friends from church think if they saw you like this, hmm?”

It takes you a second to form a coherent response. “I - I don’t go to church with Robin, she’s just a classmate?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “But you wouldn’t want them to hear you, right? Getting all needy and fucking squirming for Billy to fuck your little hole?”

You nod frantically, proving him right. You want him so desperately you don’t realize that wasn’t what he asked. “Fuck yes, please.”

“Okay, but only because you said please,” he says with a smug smile. He stops his teasing and fills you up with one long finger, brushing against a spot in your walls that makes you nearly double over for him.

“You like that, huh?” He sees your reaction and finds that spot again, lavishing it with his attention. “Of course you do, listen to the noises your - your pretty cunt is making for me, hmm?”

You clap a hand over your mouth when you realize he’s right. You’re soaked for him, you can hear the wet squelching as he pumps his finger in and out of you, faster and faster. He continues his assault on your clit with his hot tongue, and you beg him for more.

He adds another finger to you, and the stretch makes you moan besides yourself. You think you see him look up at you, amused, as he continues licking and sucking on your clit.

You decide to tease him back, pulling your shirt up for a second to flash your chest to him - his eyes widen and he watches, his other hand still toying at your clit, as you play with your hard nipples to get yourself closer. A little moan tumbles from your lips and it’s just more encouragement for him. 

You must be such a sight like this - shirt pulled up above your chest, pants down below your knees as your boyfriend looks up at you with lust and adoration, knuckle deep in your warmth. In the haze of your pleasure you have just enough thought to check  to make sure no one is around - you can’t see or even hear anyone, luckily. 

It’s funny, Billy almost looks like he’s wearing lip gloss or something - but you don’t remember him putting any on later? And when you realize that must be his spit and your slick on his lips, it nearly does you in. 

He senses you’re close and brings his fingers down to rub at your g spot, as he leans in to lick and suck again. After a few seconds of this, he feels you clench down hard on his fingers and continues fucking you through your orgasm, until you’re whining from the overstimulation.

Finally he withdraws from your heat. He stands to his full height as your phone timer goes off, and he looks around to make sure no one is there, covering you while you make yourself decent. 

Well, first you turn the timer off - just in case anyone hears - and pull your shirt down again. Your underwear are next, and you fumble to put your pants back on when you see the tent in Billy’s pants. Once yours are on, you rub at his bulge through his clothes, cooing in his ear. 

“Sorry babe, I’ll help you with this when I get back from lab, okay?” you offer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He mutters something and kisses you back, a moan in the back of his throat.

“You - you have to get to class, right?” he says. “I can walk you there…”

You manage to get yourselves presentable and calm down enough to get to your lab. But not before you turn to him for a goodbye hug, and lean in so that only he can hear.

“Can’t wait till I’m done so I can pay you back.”

His eyes widen as he pulls away, squeezing your hand. 

“See you later?”

“Of course.”

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 1

The Case of the The Pernicious Party  

Hello, hello, hello! It’s been a hot second but your resident D20 recapper is back to tackle the newest season: Mice and Murder! Y’all had to know I wasn’t gonna sit out the murder mystery, are you kidding me???

I might be playing around with the format a bit in the coming weeks to make sure I have the best possible system for keeping track of possible clues, suspects, and theories as we untangle whatever web Brennan weaves for us this season so don’t be surprised if things change a little. 

Anyway, without further ado, onto our mystery!

Summary

In case you missed it, this season takes place in an alternate, Zootopia/Wind in the Willows-esque universe where all the characters are animals but history seems to have happened in more or less the same way--for example there was still a King Charles but he was a King Charles Spaniel (cute Brennan). Our story specifically takes place in the English village of Tufting Meadows.  

We start with Katie’s character--Gangie Green (Weasel/Thief Rogue) in the graveyard of the Anglican Chapel (Our Lady of Prayerful Paws). Gangie, we learn, is an orphan who was kicked out of the orphanage at some point for thievery. Obviously, he’s not reformed of the habit because he is here to do some graverobbing. On a nat 20 (that Katie hilariously doesn’t notice even though her total is like a 29) Gangie can see through the window of the rectory that there is a weeping window inside--Catherine McCabbage who is being (dubiously) tended to by Raph’s character, Vicar Ian Prescott (Owl/Bard, College of Eloquence). 

Ian comes from a line of men of the cloth but he’s not exactly the best speaker despite his subclass. He’s doing his best though! The widow’s husband (Conor McCabbage) died at the local mill in what has been declared an accident but she suspects foul play. She’s been hearing his voice on the wind and wants Ian’s professional opinion on whether this could be a sign from God or if her husband might be speaking to her from beyond the grave or something like that. Ian gives a very muddled and not very comforting answer but seems pretty sure that something sketchy did in fact happen. Then, he sees a crack of lightning outside which illuminates the graveyard where he gets a glimpse of Gangie. 

He goes to check it out (and Gangie fully has an elderly goat he’s dug up slung over his shoulder) but “gravedigger” is his legit job so Ian decides to assume whatever’s going on is legit and not ask too many questions. He goes back to the widow (who, before she leaves, says that maybe sometimes people need to work on God’s behalf) while Gangie takes the body Loam Hall (a massive manor, built into a hill).

We cut to the next day and our next two characters! 

At 22B Hamsted Street in a pretty well appointed home are Ally and Grant’s characters. First up, we have Lars Vandenchomp (Huge ass Doberman/Battlemaster Fighter) who is so tough looking but also so Swedish sounding--it’s A Lot (so, incredibly on brand for Ally). Lars is security for Grant’s character Sylvester Cross (Fox/Inquisitive Rogue) who is a kinda (to use Grant’s word) “foppish” Sherlock Holmes type. He was hired by Squire William Thornwall Brockhollow to figure out what happened with Conor McCabbage (and clear him of negligence in running the mill) but he couldn’t find any evidence of any funny business, making this the only case he’s never cracked. He’s not as young or popular as he once was so this is, understandably, bumming him out. He’s even more bummed out when he realizes that William has invited him to his 60th birthday party that’s happening that night (as kind of a prop to show that he did his part in trying to solve the mystery) and Lars has already RSVP’d yes. He grudgingly agrees to go as it’s one of those asks that’s really more of a veiled demand but decides to pull the money he was paid from the bank first so he can return it and really stick it to the guy.

Finally, we cut to our last set of PCs who are on their way to Tufting Meadows via a very luxurious train. Inside are Sam and Rekha’s characters! Sam is Buckster $ Boyd (Peccary which is like a small boar/Mastermind Rouge) a Texan Oil Tycoon who acts exactly how you’d expect a Texan Oil Pig to act. Yes, you pronounce the dollar sign as “dollar sign” (even though as we find out later his middle name is Cassius so it’s like Cash which I think is super cool). With him is Rekha’s character, Daisy D'umpstaire (Raccoon/Assassin (???) Rogue another American (from South Carolina) though it seems she’s My Fair Lady’d herself into an upper class socialite (her last name was previously Dumpster). They’re traveling with their accountant, an Armadillo named Armond who seems kinda skittish and concerned about their travel expenses but Buck tells him that to make money you gotta spend money and they’re gonna make a *ton* of money on this trip. They’re also so so mean to him for absolutely no reason. 

When the train stops, they’re greeted by Templeton Padhop (a frog, natch) who is the chauffeur of Loan Hall, sent to fetch them. A wheel on his car is broken so he joins in on the Armond abuse immediately and has Armond roll into an Armadillo ball and replace it. Poor guy. When they show up they're greeted by a footman--a pug in a bowler hat named Milo Snout.

Meanwhile, Lars and Sly (Oh, Sly fox, I see what you did there Grant) are similarly greeted by another footman--a lizard named Basil Baskins. On a 23 perception check, Lars sees that Jeremy “Jez” Brockhollow is inside (the son of William who is a badger btw) and also clocks Gangie (who they know as a career criminal who disappeared like a year ago). Gangie doesn’t notice Lars though. 

Ian, who is also invited, shows up at about the same time as Sly but very quickly, the conversation is taken over by Lucretia “Lucy” Brockhollow, William’s older, eccentric sister who immediately gets into it with Lars about astrology and the occult (she thinks bad stuff is happening because of a curse let loose when Sly’s old rival--a rabbit named Fletcher Cottonbottom who is the son of his former employer--opened an Egyptian tomb). They’re thick as thieves right away because Ally is a nonsense magnet. And not like a regular magnet, one of those big electromagnets. 

Daisy and Buck spot William’s kids--the aforementioned Jez and his older sister Constance--along with their husbands Dr. Corbin Magpie (Constance’s and obv a magpie and a doctor) and Osmond Sheffield (Jez’s who is a Ram and a lawyer). Daisy is too stuck in her conversation with a truly unhinged squirrel (Lady Eugenia Bristlebrush who clearly does not know she’s in a murder mystery because she just keeps talking about how much she hates and wants to kill everyone) to hear what’s going on but she indicates the conversation to Buck who is able to eavesdrop and hear that they’re lamenting that Catherine--the widow--RSVP’d no which is gonna look really bad, like they didn’t invite her (bad PR). 

Buck, introducing himself as a business partner of William, eases into a conversation with the husbands which their respective spouses also join into and we learn that Buck's dad was British and a friend of Willian’s. Buck bonds with Jez (who is a bit of a dilettante) really quickly since Buck is ready to go drinks-wise immediately (and there’s a stellar pun about the “American [Drinking] Constitution''). Through the window, Buck notices Gangie outside getting his attention. 

At the same time, Ian is going from party guest to party guest, giving out the penances he forgot to earlier at church (as one does). We see him talking to the Lord and Lady Bramble (a cow and hedgehog, respectively) and while she wants to pray her way out of situations without doing any legwork, he wants to buy his way out and gives Ian 250 pounds. A frustrating but financially lucrative conversation.  

Buck goes outside to talk to Gangie who has a list of names of the bodies he’s been collecting. We’re not told what Buck is doing but it seems that this list is extremely valuable to him in some way. Gangie (who Buck keeps calling Gangly, to his annoyance) pays him handsomely (like, with a 50% tip) for the list (and Gangie gives him the real list, despite Brennan saying he didn’t have to). We also learn that Gangie has allegedly been getting the orders from someone in Loa Hall and they flow from William himself.

Matilda Molesly (a mole and the head maid) invites Gangie to come in from the rain--she’s the only person who’s been consistently nice to him and he agrees to come in for tea and scones. 

Everyone is ushered together by the butler (because of course there’s a butler--he’s quite literally a fancy rat named Thomas Gilfoyle) and William gives a speech where he wishes Conor well and kinda highlights that he did hire Sly to solve the case in a “Hey, I did my bit don’t blame me” kind of way. He also makes a 150k pound donation to the church (and Ian thought 250 was good) and tells his daughter not to read the praise he got for it from the cardinal when she mentions it (I wonder if that was choreographed). Sly interrupts the speech to “magnanimously” give his money back, to William’s annoyance. Buck notices that Lawrence Longfoot (a nouveau rich, rabbit photographer) takes a pic of the scene but with Sly in the foreground and William in the background. 

Then, a few things happen at once (in a very cinematic way):

As the camera flashes, Mrs. Molesly drops her tray, eyes hurt by the light. Lady Calliope Fawnbrooke (Deer, Matron of the Arts) helps her up.

In the moment of dark, after the flash goes away, the butler disappears. 

Buck thinks he sees a shape through the window, out in the rain. 

A cheer goes up for Sly for returning the money but all Sly can focus on is one figure he recognizes in the back of the room. Daisy, who is downing her drink and not cheering for him. He downs his as well, and looks at her until she breaks the stare and leaves the room. 

And this episode doesn’t end with a dead body like I thought, but with a flashback to a younger Sylvester, 12 years ago when he first met Daisy.

PC INTERPERSONAL DRAMA Y’ALL!!! Get HYPED! 

Case Notes

Here is a compilation of all the characters (PCs and NPCs introduced in this episode). 

Sly mentions that Ignatius Cottonbottom faked his own death as a part of some scheme which seems like a backstory point that might come back later--we now know that there exists a way to convincingly fake your own death in this world. 

Sly walks with a walking stick because of some “mysterious accident” but we’re jumping into a flashback next week so it looks like we might find out about it pretty soon. 

Sly also mentions he used to be the personal physician to the elder Cottonbottom so those are skills he has. I wonder if that’ll be useful to this healer-less party. I wonder if cleric was even an option in this world which seems to be low to no magic. It would explain by Ian is a bad and not a cleric. 

Lars has a military background which I wanted to mention in case it becomes relevant later. 

And Dr. Magpie grew up poor and still acts it a bit even though he married a very rich woman. Brennan uses the very good line, “He forces his body into the shape of an apology”

This might be a really deep cut reference but did anyone else here was the old Britcom “Keeping Up Appearances”? Cause I was getting serious Bouquet/Bucket energy from Daisy. 

This is an all College Humor season and it shows. The energy of 6 (7 if you count Brennan) top notch comedians sparking off of each other, trying to one up each other is off the charts. Some of the best bits this episode:

“When God closes every door but one, you go through the door that is open.” followed by “I’m an owl by the way.”

“Time is money, here’s both” from Buck re his inscribed gold pocket watch--everyone at the table loved that so much and they’re right. 

Armond going from being a third to a fourth wheel. 

And the names--I already shouted out a ton on the main recap but also a rat butler (like Rhett Butler) and naming the mouse Cat(therine). Can’t forget Gangie Green/gangrene from Katie. Also points to Ally for the data stealing Eel Musk which broke Brennan a little. 

I know we just went through this with Crown of Candy but what are these animals eating? Like, in Zootopia there were only mammals so we can assume the carnivores are eating like birds and fish but there are sentient birds here. I know this isn’t important. I’m not trying to do a CinemaSins gotcha. I just wonder, you know?

Y’all were waiting for all the lights to go out during that speech and then come back on and there’d be a body too, right?

If Brennan makes the bad guy a chicken or a duck or something so he can make a “fowl play” joke, he is cordially invited to catch these hands. 

I have been waiting for Raph and Katie to do D20 forever. Their specific brand of nonsense on Rank Room was always amazing. 

I love love love that Grant and Rekha are the PCs that have ~a past~ because they are so funny together. If you haven’t seen their episode of Game Changers, you absolutely must (it’s also a murder mystery actually!). 

[nervousladytraveler]

The Alibi: Chapter 2

A continuation of the the wee fic inspired by the kiss prompt: A + B are in an argument, then they stop, just stare at each other, and then crash their lips together, because, like i said... fuck this shit Ross and Demelza (Requested by the lovely @veryflowerobservation)

______

Ross woke just a little after 9AM. He’d pulled the thick curtains the night before--it had been dark then so the gesture had been solely for privacy. The morning light was largely blocked, save one stubborn sliver that succeeded in illuminating a patch of carpet in front of the bed.

He looked over at the sleeping woman beside him. Demelza faced the wall and had failed at fully covering her body with the hotel bed sheets, and as a result her glorious back and the very top of her bum remained exposed. She might have been turned away from him but that didn’t mean she had given up on him. He knew he could sidle over and press himself close to her, and that she’d receive him warmly, eagerly. She’d made her feelings quite clear.

It had been a complicated night--and yet so easy. To finally be with her after so many years of constant companionship. Yes, they’d had years of steady loyalty to one another but he could see now that their friendship the last few months had been fraught with unresolved tension, overpowering attraction, and something deeper still. It hadn’t been one sided, only he’d somehow been blind to it all until the truth hit him like a cricket bat to the head as she yelled at him in the dark car park. Then he’d kissed her and it was as if he’d always known.

And as they lay together, in between feverish bouts of love making, they tried to make sense of what had just happened. They didn’t talk about the near-miss with the cops or Trencrom’s betrayal, just the sudden, seismic shift that occurred between them. And what it meant.

He was glad that she’d been able to say what he too felt, since he’d never be articulate enough to find the words or have the presence of mind to speak them.

She knows what I’m thinking before I even speak. No wonder she saved my neck last night, he thought to himself with a soft laugh. Yet somehow he knew not to take that for granted. She was her own person and he’d have to work harder to demonstrate his respect for her. No, respect sounded such a cold and clinical word and hardly sufficient. He revered her, he admired her, he was captivated by her, he desired her…

His thoughts never reached their logical conclusion of what all those separate emotions added up to because she exhaled a long sigh and he could resist touching her no more. He ran the backs of his fingers down her spine, then along the gentle curve of her hip, and up to her breast.

She turned to him with a smile, her eyes struggling to open.

“You tryin’ to wake me, Ross?” she asked. Her voice was sleepy, raspy in an innocently sexy sort of way.

He pulled her closer at once and kissed her eyelids, in a tender attempt to keep them closed. He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, not just butterflies but a whole swarm of wings fluttering up, perhaps to carry off his heart. His hands gripped her upper arms--the same arms that seemed destined to deck him yesterday seemed warm and reassuring now.

“No, stay asleep. It was an exhausting night--you earned a lie-in.” He kissed her lips now. Her eyes remained closed but her mouth opened wide to receive him.

How could he have ever considered himself alive before he knew that kiss?

He realised he’d sighed like a love-drunk school boy but he had no shame.

“Yes, it was exhaustin’,” she laughed, “but are you referrin’ to the events before or after we went to bed?” She put her hand to his rough cheek.

He laughed too, as though he’d caught the urge from her, like a yawn or a sneeze.

Ross had no business being so happy. His world was crumbling around him--he’d most likely lose his business and the police’s interest in him had not yet been resolved. And yet...

Yet those things mattered little. Was that really what his world consisted of? Because being with Demelza, loving her and being loved, that seemed a most significant triumph.

“Demelza, I meant everything I said last night.” He’d grown serious again.

“I seem to recall it was me doin’ all the talkin’ and you said a lot of ‘me too’...” she laughed.

“Okay, I meant everything you said,” he teased back.

“You sure about that Ross? Because I also called you stubborn and stupid…”

“And ‘an absolute arsehole’ don’t forget…” he added and rolled on his back with a chuckle.

“Oh Ross,” she said. “I didn’t mean those things…”

“Yes, you did--because I am. Maybe not ‘absolute’ but I can admit I’m ‘somewhat’ of an arsehole…”

She kissed his chest before resting her head lower on his belly. “Then you are my favourite somewhat arsehole, Ross,” she said.

“And you are the most meaningful person in my life…” he said, reaching out to touch her soft hair.

“Thank you for sayin’ that,” she said softly.

“Those were your words, Demelza. So thank you,” he said and pulled her up again so she was level with his head on the pillow. He stroked her cheek and looked into her eyes. They blazed with an intensity he’d come to know well over the last few hours together.

He wanted nothing more than to spend the day with her bare body wrapped around him, with inspired caresses, endless kisses. Even the ancients knew that nothing succeeded at keeping troubles at bay--or at least out of mind--like the pleasures of physical love.

But just then the telephone rang--a rapid string of jarring bleeps loud enough to be heard in the next room. The only person who knew they were there was Jinny Martin.

Good god, was her night shift not over yet? Shit hours for a single mum with two small children. Hoping he hadn’t made trouble for her, Ross switched on the lamp and picked up at once.

“Sorry, Ross. The police are here and want to ask some questions. I told them to wait and I’d call you down but they’re on their way up.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said and rang off.

“What is it?” Demelza sat up in alarm and watched Ross furiously pull on his trousers “Ross?”

“It’s the police, they’re here. Apparently they want to ask me some questions...” He tried to sound calm.

“But how did they know where you were? What can this mean?” she cried and reached for her knickers.

“I don’t know. It seems so unlikely they’d find me...but stay in bed, Demelza,” he said and switched the lamp off again. “Pretend you’re asleep and don’t get up unless I call to you.” His voice was firm but gentle. He wanted to reassure her, to convince her he had a plan--though he most certainly did not.

He hadn’t fully buttoned his shirt when the knock came. It hadn’t sounded aggressive or urgent--was that a good sign? Or was Ross just reading too much into this?

“Just a minute,” he called gruffly, trying his best to sound as though he’d only just been roused. He put his fingers to lips and at his signal Demelza rolled over on her side facing the wall again. This time she had the covers pulled snugly up to her chin.

Ross ran his hands through his hair so it stood even more on end, then exhaled before he opened the door. He blinked his eyes at the glare of the hall light. It hadn’t been an act but added a convincing touch.

“Sorry to bother you, sir. I’m PC Pendarves, and this is PC Bunt, ” the taller constable said then he looked at his notepad, “Mr. Ross Poldark, is it?” He still had youthful spots on his face that were barely concealed by the sparse beard he was trying to grow.

Ross was confused by the question--surely they knew his name--wasn’t that why they were there? The constable didn’t seem sharp enough to be putting him on. But Ross’s bewilderment worked in his own favour--he didn’t look like a man who, for the past seven hours, had been expecting the police to call.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” Ross asked then glanced over his shoulder at the supposedly sleeping form just visible in the dark room. He pulled the door behind him so it was only open a few inches, and stepped into the hallway. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want to wake my...friend.” His hesitation at what to call her publicly was genuine but again fit tidily into his ruse. If Demelza and Ross were to have had a secret rendezvous, he’d hardly have announced it readily to the first person who knocked.

“Right, Mr. Poldark. Erm...the clerk said the other guest in the room is Demelza Crane?” This time it was PC Bunt, the squat bespectacled constable who spoke, trying not so subtly to get a peek at the woman in the bed.

“Carne,” Ross corrected. “Demelza Carne.” Instinctively he shifted his position to fully block any further view. “Do you need me to wake her…?”

“No, no sir. I don’t think so.” The first constable said and cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed for his partner. Perhaps he wasn’t so young after all. “Yes, well, we’re making inquiries about a missing person.”

“A missing person?” Ross asked and hoped the relief wasn’t visible on his face.

“A Miss Rosina Hoblyn. Her father reported her missing day before last.”

“Oh?” Ross wondered why they were talking to him about this. “I’m not sure how I can help you…”

“We’re talking to all the guests with rooms facing the road,” Pendarves said as if reading Ross’s thoughts. “You see, a neighbour ‘cross the way, saw a young woman who fit Miss Hoblyn’s description last night right out in the street. A bit of a disturbance it was--she seemed to be having a row with someone. Then left in the same someone’s car.”

“On Church Road?” Ross twisted his brow as he took this in, an expression of questioning concern, which disguised his renewed panic at the presence of traffic cameras. No, he and Demelza had entered the hotel from the rear and were never even on Church Road.

“Yes, this happened right in front of the yoga studio,” Bunt offered, unable to hide his smirk that such an establishment had recently taken the place of a perfectly useful off-license.

“I’m afraid we heard nothing. We’ve…erm...” Ross paused. His sheepish expression was both genuine and well-played. “We’ve been in all night.”

“So you heard nothing? All night?” Bunt said. “This would have been around 11:30 PM?”

“Yes...I’m not sure what time we checked in. You can check at the front desk or I can wake Miss Carne…she might remember.” Ross took a chance here. It was better to be honest that they hadn’t even arrived until quite late.

“No bother, Mr. Poldark, if you didn’t see or hear anything of note outside the room,” Bunt said and laughed to himself, apparently amused by it all. He seemed to buy that Ross had other things on his mind the night before--perhaps he’d even been imagining the scene in his head.

“And the neighbours?” Ross took another chance here. “Did they observe…?” It would be good to know who was up last night and what they knew.

“Nah, they didn’t hear anything either. Okay, thanks for your time, Mr. Poldark. Here’s our cards if you or Miss Carne think of anything later…” PC Pendarves said and fumbled in his pocket before PC Bunt beat him to the punch and triumphantly handed over his own slightly crumpled business card.

“Of course,” Ross said and nodded politely. He waited until they began their retreat down the hallway before he slipped back into the room.

Even at the sound of the door closing, Demelza remained motionless, as though she was holding her breath. Without switching on the light, Ross snuggled next to her and buried his face in her hair.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “They’re gone.”

She turned to him, and in the dim room he could see her eyes were wide--and wet.

“Demelza,” he said and wrapped her in his strong arms. “Don’t be scared. I’m still here.”

“I know, Ross,” she said bravely. “Tell me everythin’, I only heard bits. Is it true? The police are askin’ after Rosina Hoblyn?”

“You heard most of it then. Seems she’s missing--or so her dad says. I’m surprised he even noticed, the drunken lout that he is,” Ross said.

“Ross, did you tell them that you know Mr. Hoblyn? And you know her?”

“They didn't ask, and to be fair, I don’t really know Rosina—I know of her. I don’t think I’ve ever exchanged a word with her.”

“But Ross, you know she’s datin’ Charlie Kempthorne, don’t you? Or at least she was until recently. I think I just heard she broke it off with him.”

“I’d forgotten that. And it’s a connection I’m not happy to make. Ugh! I wonder what she was doing here in Truro?”

“And whose car she got into…” Demelza added.

“You heard the police say that as well?”

“Yes...Oh Ross, you don’t think Rosina could be in trouble, do you?”

“Well, if she is, at least the police are looking for her.”

“And not for you?”

“So it would seem…for now anyway.”

“Ross, I’m knackered as hell but my heart is racin’...I think we should go home.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree.” He kissed her lips, lingering for as long as he could, and dreading to pull away. “If you’re still tired later, we can take a nap together back at Nampara,” he suggested.

“No, Ross,” she said quickly. ”Remember we can’t be seen together.”

“What? That’s ridiculous,” he laughed. “The police now know we’re together and the whole point of you being my alibi is that people know about it…”

“Only some people--the right people at the right time. And we have to make it look like we want to keep it a secret. Otherwise why would we be out in the cover of night and sneakin’ off to a hotel in another town when we could just shag at your place or mine? Think about it, I mean, we both live alone…”

“I don’t. I have a housekeeper, remember,” he reminded her.

“Hmm...we have to decide if we tell Prudie, don’t we? No, maybe just leave some hints and clues. Better let her think she’s put two and two together on her own. She’ll probably start squawkin’ and she’ll want everyone to know she figured out our secret…”

“I don’t like this, Demelza. You know you’re not just my alibi, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I know you don't really think I’m ridiculous,” she said with a smile, reminding him of one of the insults he’d hurled at her the previous night that he’d repeated just now.

“But it is ridiculous that we’re together now…” he began.

“What?” she laughed and pretended to hit him.

“Let me finish.” He caught her hand in his and kissed her fingers.“We’re finally together, after months of idiocy…”

“Years,” she corrected him.

“Okay, years...and it’s ridiculous that we have to pretend to not be.”

“Not all the time,” she added.

“But to see you, to do this again,” he said, running their joined hands down her naked body, ”has to be secret? Or planned enough to seem secret? In any event I can't be with you freely, when I want, when we want. I think that’s going to destroy me.”

“No, Ross. Don’t you understand? It’s worth it to keep you safe--so we can be together. And it won’t be for long. As soon as this Trencrom business blows over, we can let the cat out of the bag.”

“Just so we’re clear, as much as I love the cat, I hate the bag. I hate it very much,” he said and laid his head on her chest.

“I know, Ross. Believe me, I want the whole world to know I’m yours.” She put her free hand to his head to play with his curls. A small gesture but one that moved him more than he expected.

“Me too,” he sighed, then not unpossessively put his hand on her hip. “And hopefully it will be over soon.”

“And no more Trencrom?”

“No more. We might be homeless and unemployed but…”

“Ross?”

“Never again. I promise you.”

----

DS Vage threw down his bacon sandwich with disgust when he saw PCs Pendarves and Bunt return from their door to door inquiries. He already knew what they’d say: No one saw anything, sir.

Oh, they'd swear they’d been thorough, but if they truly had, would they be back so soon? The door knocking, the questioning of witnesses--some of whom didn't even know yet that they were witnesses--that was real police work. And these idiots...what did they think the job was going to entail? High speed police chases? Suspects coming in willingly?

He glanced up at the photo of Rosina Hoblyn he’d pinned to the wall. She wasn’t a resident of his town but he’d be damned if she’d become a victim on his turf.

“Okay...what did you find?” he asked with a sigh.

“That yoga bird, she’s something, isn’t she?” Bunt laughed then turned serious when he saw his boss’s expression. “No sir, I mean Miss Rebecca Ellery said the same thing to us in person that she’d reported over the phone.” He looked in his notebook to get the exact words. “A young woman, blonde curly hair--dye job but with good low lights, approximately 5’4…”

“Oh come on,” Vage said with a groan. “That’s a bit specific, isn’t it? Did you question her on that? Did she tell you what shade of hair dye was? Icy Platinum or Natural Ash Blonde #004? Could she tell you what salon she’d been to?” he asked sarcastically. “And really...five four exactly?”

Everyone these days thought they knew it all. It came from watching too many police procedurals on the telly.

“No sir, I mean yes, sir,” Pendarves quickly interrupted. “Miss Ellery explained that she’d been a hairdresser before she opened the yoga business and it was her...erm ‘stock and trade’, she said. And she says she’s five four herself and this other woman was standing next to the lamp post under that rude graffiti so she could get a sense of her height. She also said she’d complained about the graffiti but no one has responded to her…”

“Alright...go on,” Vage said reluctantly.

“Yes, so the young woman was shouting at a man...Miss Ellery thought he was a man but she wasn’t sure how she knew it--she said that herself…”

“So this other person ?”

“Miss Ellery didn’t get a good look so she couldn't even say hair colour but they-him or her-- remained in the driver’s seat of a lime green Vauxhall Astra GTC.” Bunt was apparently very proud of himself for keeping an open mind about the driver.

“She was specific about the make and model of the car?” Vage raised a brow.

“Yes, she was, sir,” Bunt nodded. “And the lime green colour--she said it looked ‘super douchey’.”

Maybe Ellery was a reliable witness after all, Vage thought to himself.

“Okay, then the girl shouted something to the driver that sounded like ‘You’re a dickhead and you deserve what’s coming for you…’ But he--sorry, the person--didn’t say anything back, least not loud enough that Miss Ellery could hear from her window above the studio. But this person must have said something because Rosina...erm I mean the blonde girl, stopped shouting and got into the car...”

“Just got in? Signs of any coercion?”

“No physical force according to Miss Ellery. Do you think she knew the driver?” Pendarves asked.

“It’s possible…” Vage said.

“Then the Astra drove away north on Church Road,” Pendarves added.

“We’re checking the CCTV,” Bunt said quickly.

Bloody idiot. Of course the CCTV would be checked--DS Vage had already put in a request himself.

“And the neighbours?” he asked. He wanted to hear about the rest of their morning’s work.

“Only three residential flats on the east side of the road,” Pendarves explained. “One just above Miss Ellery--and they’re in Spain for the month. Another, number 74--Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Stephens heard some noise around 11:30 but it had stopped by the time they went to the front window--their bedroom is in the rear, you see. They saw nothing, closed the window, and went back to bed. Number 78, was Mister Bart Maddock, who openly admitted he’d been high--he said that--to the police!--and he was painting so he was ‘oblivious’ to what was happening on the street.”

“Painting? Like walls?”

“Naw, he’s an artist,” Pendarves explained. “That place is sorta a loft, big flat for just the one person but mostly taken up by what he called a ‘studio’. Two studios on one street--never knew so many arty types had moved in.”

“Rents will rise as a result,” Vage grumbled. “Okay and the hotel, the Star and Garter?”

“Three guest rooms faced Church Road. Ground floor is the pub, closed at 11 of course…”

“Of course…”

“Proprietor and night desk clerk heard nothing but their offices are in the rear. The rooms are all on the next floor up. Older woman at the end of the hall took her hearing aids out so she heard nothing and the couple next to her put their baby down to sleep just after 8, then fell right asleep themselves after that.”

“Poor sods. That’s family life, isn’t it?” Vague sighed.

“The couple nearest the stairs though…” PC Bunt let out a chuckle.

“Well? Yes?”

“They were busy shagging all night…”

“Aw c’mon, Bunt…” Pendarves groaned.

“What?” Bunt objected to being called out. “The man said as much as said himself! According to him, they were in all night and were ‘otherwise occupied’ so they heard nothing.”

“Nothing? Great…” Vage sighed.

“Lucky bastard, that one. I got a glimpse of the friend waiting in his bed,” Bunt chuckled then he saw his boss was not amused by tales of him leering at sleeping women.

Dance of Life, Vage was thinking. All the stages of love and life on one hallway. First there’s early love and passion, then settling down and starting a family, finally you’re old and alone. And behind which door is my life lived these days?

He really didn’t consider himself old, though he knew his colleagues did, especially the newly minted constables like these two. At least he was still fit and had all his hair--and his hearing. Could he still be considered a family man though? His own children were grown and far from home. He missed them but not the sleepless nights of teething and ear infections, or even the teenage years when they proclaimed how much they hated him right before they asked him for the car keys and 20 quid.

And door #1? He could barely remember the days of needing that sort of urgent and exhausting sex, but he’d certainly been there in his younger days, with his Tina. What a looker, she’d been. Blonde, curvy, with those great legs. His Tina who was no longer his--she’d left him right after their youngest went off to the army. He should have known she was slipping away from him when she’d switched her hair colour from Natural Ash Blonde #004 to Icy Platinum.

“Okay, and you got names and contact information of all these witnesses--or ‘not-witnesses’ as the case may be?”

“Yes, we got names,” Pendarves said quickly. He had not in fact gotten contact information but assumed he could request it from the hotel at a later time if really necessary.

“Deaf bird was…” Bunt began reading from his notepad again.

PC Pendarves coughed and shot him a look.

“Hearing impaired guest,” Bunt started over, “was Elizabeth Triggs from St. Just, the family with the baby were the Tregeagles--Benjamin and Sarah, didn’t catch the baby’s name…”

“Also Ben...Benny they said,” Pendarves added. “From Falmouth.”

“Right,” Bunt said, “and our ‘sex’ couple was Demelza Carne--we didn't talk to her, she was asleep--and Ross Poldark.”

“Wait a minute,” Vage said, a bell ringing somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Sorry sir. Thought it was respectful to let her sleep. Should we have talked to her?” Pendarves asked.

“No, that’s quite alright. But did you say the man was called...Ross Poldark?”

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: talking too your co worker about the famous superman. Not knowing your friend / co worker was listening in.

You stretched out at your desk holding your head up in your head. It was a quite day at the daily planet. It’s been Six months since you changed from writing fluff pieces too taking over writing about the famous Superman. It shocked everyone in the Planet when he flew into the daily planet and talked too your boss and asked for another reporter too cover him. Which your boss gladly accepted. Superman left, and Lois Lane was asked inside too have a private meeting. Which ended up with her storming out and throwing cold Coffee all over you. Before quitting.

that was six months Ago. It’s been a wild exprience Reporting the hero. A Long and exhausting six months. You missed writing about Puppy day cares. And not being in danger. But you LOVED the view of superman’s behind!

“you think it’s a superpower?”

You asked casually as you were looking at the photo you took quickly of Superman holding a tanker trunk that was about too hit a church as he put it back onto the ground. A robot throw it at the church. It was a whole thing. But Superman saved the day like he always does.

“What? The super strength.. yea I do.” Rolling your eyes seeing Clark arriving late he sat down as you waved weakly to your friend as you turned too Sara your co worker. “No- the handsomeness.”

Sarah laughed at that thought as you spoke, ‘it’s possible.. the man can shoot laser out of his eyes”

“I dont think that’s a super power.. just really good generics.. you should ask him.”

chuckling hearing that you looked at your screen humming as she spoke, “you think the rumour is true?”

“What rumour?”

“that Superman And Lois were a thing.”

rolling your eyes as you whispered softly so Clark couldn’t hear. You knew he was still hurting over Lois and his break up. “Impossible she was with Clark.”

“farm boy- can’t compare too Superman.”

You chuckled as you spoke, “Clark is real- superman is just a great.- Great day dream you have when your bored and restless and feel tingly” Sarah laughed at that as Clark coughed loudly. Dropping half of his papers and pens over at his desks few desks away you looked at him puzzled asking if he was okay. He nodded his head as you spoke up, “besides I asked Superman. Why the change- he didn’t mention anything- unsavoury.”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she spoke, ‘Did you question him about the sex.” Rolling your eyes Sarah asked you a few days ago asking if you would ask Superman if he’s people have sex the same way as humans. You didn’t ask him. You didn’t think it was right. You also didn’t want too ruin your day dream about Superman if the answers was they had sex like they do in Avatar..that woudl Kill your bubbly day dreams.

“No- because that is inappropriate- Plus if the answer isn’t like humans.. i would be so bummed.” Sarah laughed as she spoke, “any chance you and SUperman will” you shook your head, “No that isn’t appropriate- but if i find out he has sex like in avatar.. my fantasy’s are ruined.” She laughed loudly hearing that as you looked at your screen seeing the last photo you got of Superman.

‘we need too find a fault in him.”

“why?’ Sarah asked as you sighed heavily. “Because Mr. Perfect is too perfect.. how can i get over this stupid crush if he’s perfect.. i need too see him like.. Liter or something.”

Sarah chuckled as she spoke, “you just need too focus on a relationship you can have.”

“BLAH!” You spat out as she chuckled as you spoke, “Lois really should of left a manual on him.”

“Of what he likes in bed?” You chuckled shaking your head at Sarah, “No- just general stuff. What questions are off limits- why he is the way he is.. tips anything.”

“Oh I’m sure she has a entire notebooks about tips and tricks too that man.” You shook your head, “there is No proof that she and him- did anything.”

“Minus the fact her career sky rocketed thru the roof once he appeared and she because a household name. And had everything handed too her.’

Sarah had a point but you refused too think that. For Clarks sake. He was still torned up about that. You weren’t friends with Lois when she worked at the daily planet. You started a few weeks after Clark and she had No interest in interacting with you or Sarah aOr half the reporters who she seemed, “unworthy of her time. And that meant you, Sarah, and half the staff. Clark got her attention and you couldn’t blame him for it. He was drop dead handsome, a klutz, Funny, incredibly kind. Polite the only fault you had with Clark was that Lois was with him.

“Lois is a amazing reporter- she went too Iraq hundreds of times reported in holes and during war. Her skills are amazing! She just-“ you tensd up trying too think of the right word too describe her lucky break with Superman. Everyone in the office assumed she was having a affair with Superman. It’s the only reason you could think of that he dumped her right after Clark did. You figured Superman found out about Clark and vis vers and they dumped her. When you asked he simply said that he needed a writer who had more “hope” vs Lois hard hitting facts.

“would you do it?”

You changed the subject as Sarah spoke, “sleep with superman? Hell yea.. plus Batman.- maybe the joker too spice things up.” You laughed as she spoke, “you?’

you nodded your head, “God yea.”

Clark dropped all his papers too that as you spoke “you alright Clark?” He simply nodded as he dashed off. As you spoke, “he’s such a adorable klutz”

[kashimos-hajime]

my heart went with you | b.b.

summary: a tale as old as time: the charming boy and the golden girl he could never get, and how they spent their last days together.

WARNINGS: fluff, love, angst, mentions: war and death, nudity, swearing pairing: 40s!bucky x fem!reader word count: 7.3k

a/n: written as a lil snapshot about some unspoken love and rivalry. for @ussgallifreyfics​​​​, my prompt was you’ll never know by vera lynn. i really love writing some soft tenderness so enjoy!!

“Buck.”

The man standing before the tombstone looks up, over his shoulder, to Steve.

“We need to get back before it gets dark.”

And then he smiles, hands shoved in his pockets and starts heading towards his friend. Slinging an arm around Steve’s skinny shoulders, he does nothing more than knuckle the blond’s head. Steve winches, punching him in the gut and Bucky laughs, stumbling away as they pass the iron-wrought gates of the cemetery. 

“Jus’ wanted to say my goodbyes,” Bucky says, adjusting his jacket as they head up the street back towards Steve’s place. His best friend sweeps his hair out of his face, cheeks already burning in the dusk and Bucky’s smile softens for him. “Y’know your ma was the best thing.”

“I know.” At that, Steve seems to stand a little straighter and Bucky’s grin grows. 

“C’mon. Let’s get something to eat before I’m stuck with chewin’ on boiled leather boots.” 

“Maybe Becca’ll make you a few sandwiches to take overseas,” Steve mutters. Bucky shakes his head, lifting his chin to the wind. It smells rich of summer, clean and light in the dying sun, and Bucky feels a bit empty as he turns his gaze to his best friend.

“Yeah, maybe.” 

The rest of the walk to the little diner by a construction site, and Bucky walks in to see a few tables full, and a few of the stools occupied.  

“Bucky!” 

His name catches his attention and he spots a redhead waving with a smile. Steve hides his grin as they head towards her, and Bucky can’t help but notice when Dot’s smile grows at the sight of Steve. 

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Dolores,” the blond man mumbles, sliding into a stool while Bucky sits down between them. “You here alone?”

“Oh, no. My friend’s just gotten some news so Joe let her out back. How are you, Bucky?” Dolores chews on her bottom lip, stirring her milkshake absently as her round eyes gaze at him. “I heard… you’re joining the boys in England.”

“Shipping off in a few days, actually,” he says with a slight smile just as a door swings open. 

“James.” 

Bucky’s eyes close.  

Oh, how much he utterly despises that voice. The sound of his old top rival at school, the girl with the infuriatingly cool smile, the clever glint in her eyes. Prettiest, smartest, nearly the most athletic. 

Almost perfect. 

It’s like a cold wind washes into the diner as he plants his hands on the counter and twists around with an arched eyebrow. 

You stand before him in a green dress, eyes effortlessly cool, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. You look gorgeous. 

Not that Bucky would ever admit that to your face. 

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

He doesn’t say you’re perfect because if there’s one thing he hates about you, it’s… you. 

“Hello, James.” You flash him a wry smile before turning to Steve. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Your smile softens, and Bucky feels a flare of irritation lick at his insides at the way your expression seems genuine, sitting on the opposite side of Dot with an envelope. Your best friend places a gentle hand on yours, and the corner of Bucky’s lips pinch when he notes the slight tremble of your hand reaching for your own milkshake.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, eyes narrowing at the envelope and you smile guiltily, placing a hand over a stamp.

“My forms,” you say quietly. “I’m being shipped off in a few days.” 

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes immediately dart to Bucky’s face but the blue-eyed soldier is too busy scrutinizing your face. You don’t say anything, simply sip on the straw between red-painted lips as Dot wedges the envelope out from underneath your elbow and pry it open.  

Dot purses her lips in a frown as she reads through the forms, her hand coming to your shoulder but you plaster a smile onto your face even though Bucky can see through the cracks of your mask. Your eyes flit to his as if you realize he’s staring and the smile melts away. 

Something cold slithers into his gut at the thought of you on the front lines beside him.

He notes that when you think no one’s looking, your mask seems to slip. You catch him staring more than once, but you don’t say anything besides point out that there’s ketchup at the corner of his mouth.

.

He notices you smile little.

He doesn’t mean to notice things about you, but as they sit on the edge of the pier, Bucky can’t help but notice that about you. Steve had offered to walk Dot back home (or she was walking him home, you had muttered under your breath) and that left the two of you to walk the wharf because really, neither of them wanted to go home yet.

Bucky didn’t want to miss a second of his city. He wants to stay out as long as he can, take it all in before it’s too late.

The water is calm, lapping at the wood, and it smells like sea-salt and adventure on the wind. It sneaks into his lungs, makes him light-headed with a kind of childish innocence he can’t recall feeling before. Your legs swing, barefoot against the breeze, and his sleeves are rolled up as he glances at the sinking sun.

It’s barely gone before a chillier gale sweeps through the pier and he sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye.

The silence that has fallen over the two of you for what feels like hours now doesn’t need to be broken. He doesn’t believe you’re keen on talking as he grabs his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly. 

You don’t protest, your eyes on the distant horizon. 

Instead, you reach up to tug the lapels close around your neck and when the pads of your digits brush against his, he feels something inside him twist. Stomach in knots, he looks down at the murky depths. 

This is how it has been for years now. He’ll catch you alone, and they’d sit together for hours. On the bus, in the park.

He doesn’t like you, but he knows it’s partially his fault, and your silence is honey to his bitter tea. 

“I think we’re going to die,” you say at last, voice startlingly quiet in the night. Your chin is lifted as he looks at you, and there’s a soft, bitter smile on your lips as a breeze plays against your cheek, with the strands of your hair. You don’t look at him, and lean into the wind.

Bucky has half the mind to bar you from leaning any further in case you fall into the chilling water.

You look at him, lips barely parted, and swallow the same hard knot in his throat. 

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

“My daddy was in the first war,” you remind him, and Bucky chews on the inside of his cheek as your gaze drifts again. You’re thinking about him, thinking hard enough he can hear the gears grinding in your head. “He’s never been—was never the same when he came back. .” 

It’s not that Bucky’s never thought about death.

It’s that he refuses to. 

He won’t think about an empty tomb until he has to. 

“Yeah, I know,” is his gentle reply.

The water crushes gently beneath their feet and the darkness falls slowly, a gentle cascade into midnight ink as the world around them begins to die. Warm, orange sunlight is replaced with gauzy yellow streetlight and there’s the sound of people yelling their goodnights as they close up shop. 

He leans back on his hands, lets his legs swing freely as he listens to some seagull call in the distance.

“I think I’m scared to die,” you say. Your words are nearly lost in the wind, but Bucky hears you clear as a church prayer. He pushes forward and gently places a hand atop yours along the wooden planks. You don’t react to his touch, and he closes his eyes, leaning tentatively until his forehead pushes against your cheek. 

“Me too.” He whispers it like a secret into your skin, and you turn to look at him at last, eyes glazed and distant, but present enough to see him. He lifts his chin to soak in your face, the silver light playing with the shadows on your face. Your eyes are enough to reflect the moon as he looks into your gaze, and he feels like he’s drowning in your depths before he blinks, inhaling sharply.

The bitter bite of cold wind in his chest snaps him out of his trance and he clears his throat, drawing his hand away from yours.

“It’s getting too late,” he says, ignoring the smallest of frowns pulling at your cheeks as you pull his jacket tighter around your shoulders. “I should get you back home.” Getting up, he brushes off his bum and turns to you, extending a hand. You don’t move, and his brow wrinkles as he steps closer to the edge. “Doll…”

“I don’t want to go home.” 

Falling into a crouch beside you, Bucky rests gentle hands on your shoulders and you seem to shiver underneath his palms as you turn to him, eyes glassy.

“She’ll hate me. My mom will hate me for enlisting, James,” you whisper as you twist to face him fully. “But we need the money. We need the money, and—”

“Your sister is just old enough to begin working,” he finishes. You nod shakily and he sighs, hand flitting around your face. He’s unsure of how to touch you, if you’d even let him, and he settles on tracing the curve of your cheek as he sighs. Mind churning, he simply watches as you close your eyes, diamond tears dripping against his fingers, and he wipes them away with gentle thumbs. Your cheeks are being to freeze in his palms, and he puts on a smile, a small one but one nonetheless as your eyes open again.

“I don’t want to go home, James,” you whisper, crushed and he chews on his bottom lip.

“Come on.” Pulling back, he grabs your hands and he’s surprised by how quickly your fingers wrap around his as he gets you to your feet. You let him drag you away from the waters, his coat swaying on your shoulders “I know where we can go.”

.

“Why here?” you ask, your hands wrapped around the chains as Bucky kicks off the dirt. He fights off the chill trying to sneak into his guts as you fiddle with his coat buttons. He’s managed to persuade you to actually put it on. “It’s actually kind of… strange to be here.”

“You’ve never been in a playground after dark?” he teases, getting off his swing and walking around you. You lean back to keep your eyes on him and he can’t help the fluttering smile playing on his cheek. 

“No, because this is trespassing.”

“Live a little.”

“I know you and your friends would always sneak in. Heard it from all my friends,” you comment with a roll of your eyes. “They thought you were all so cool.”

“It was always Steve’s idea. They were always welcome to join us. So were you.”

“Well, I was at home or at tennis practice, and Daddy always used to pick me up before…” You clear your throat. “Anyway, no. I wouldn’t have.” You swing your legs back, gaining a bit of momentum and he smiles. He remembers when all he would do was spend afternoons here, watching Steve swing beside you, fingers outstretched and barely brushing.

How envious he had been at your shrieking laughter. The nasty pout that’d settle on his lips.

To be a boy again.

“Well, we have a whole night to waste away,” he says, grabbing onto one of the swing chains and pulling you to a jerking halt. Your seat twists, twirling in half-circles as you lower your feet to the ground and lean forward, arms linked by the elbows on the chain. “And I thought we could bend the laws a little.”

“The whole night,” you repeat, bemused, and your eyebrow twitches up when he grins. “I have to get home at some point.”

“Don’t worry. There aren’t any big bad wolves out here.”

“What are you gonna do? Fight ‘em off?” you sneer and he huffs.

“I’ll protect you. Obviously.”

“I’m sure my mother will thank you,” you retort. “What do you have in mind?”

“So the good girl does have a trouble-making side.”

“Well, it seems my last few days on this side of the ocean are with you,” you reply, standing up suddenly and Bucky backs up when your face comes barely an inch from his. Eyebrows rising in surprise, his eyes widen as you dust off the back of your dress and adjust his jacket on your shoulders. It looks good on you. “What does Brooklyn’s Bad Boy know?”

“A lot more than you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Do you remember this playground?” 

“Well, I did just say you and Steve would trespass.”

“I mean, do you remember what it means for us,” he emphasizes and you brush past him, fingers wrapping around the pole as you walk around, soaking in the sight of the barren place. No laughing children, no berating teachers. Nothing but Bucky’s heart and your tiny sigh.

 “I saw you walk your sister home from here once,” you offer with half a shrug. “You saw me and crossed the road just so we wouldn’t cross paths. And there,” you say, pointing at the see-saw, “is where we sat together once in the rain. I think you were waiting out here in the cold. I felt pity so I sat beside you until Rebecca had finished school.” You grin, your features softening as you drag your gaze from the see-saw to Bucky himself, and he’s confused at the heat that floods his chest.

There is no indignant spark, no triumphant gleam in your gaze. Just you.

“That’s when I knew you were stubborn as they come. The ‘thank you’ you gave me sounded like someone pulled it outta you, but… you said thank you.” Then, your lips curl and you blink innocently at him. 

“I don’t recall that.”

“Yes, of course you don’t. You don’t remember a thing that paints you in a bad light.” Your eyes twinkle with mischief, eyebrows rising as you turn away and he walks after you, words nipping at his lips.

“Alright, and you. What about you?” Bucky taps his chin, pretending to ponder but one moment sticks out to him anyway. “As your chemistry partner, I remember saving you once or twice from nearly burning your skin off.”

“And as your biology partner, I remember dissecting the frog while you excused yourself to the bathroom.”

“Then, it’s good we’re not scientists.”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Silence.

This is why they bode better in silence.

Bucky doesn’t understand how they can argue, disagree, spat over the most mundane things, but they do.

You turn away, arms wrapped around your middle as you walk to the hopscotch square and walk the lines drawn into the pavement.

“Well.” There’s an odd pause when Bucky clamps his mouth shut because he doesn’t know what he is going to say next, and you turn around to stare at him oddly, waiting for what comes next. “Well.”

“Well,” you repeat expectantly, and his mouth opens and closes a few times.

“Well, maybe we oughta stop arguing if we’re spending the night together.”

“Do you have to word it like that?” Bucky shoots you a look, and your shoulders slump as you sigh. “I’m sorry. I agree. I’m done quarreling. And to be honest, it’s draining, though I never figured out why you hated me.”

“To be honest, doll,” he sighs, “I don’t know either. It’s just been that way for so long, hasn’t it?”

“I suppose so. Although I know what contributed to my end of this animosity was your proclivity to hover around me.”

“Well, I never could stay away. Seems everywhere you went, I was there somehow, too,” he mumbles and your face softens as you let your arms drop. Approaching him slowly, your eyes do not stray from his face as you flatten your palm against his shirt. You’re warm over his heart, and he wonders if you can feel his heart beat in his chest as you take care to make sure he looks into your eyes. 

“Maybe it was because of Steve,” you say curiously, your fingers playing with the button along the seam. “I know you’re protective over him and us being friends… I never set out to despise the school’s golden boy.”

He finds nothing sour in your gaze, nothing harsh, nothing trembling or bleeding. Maybe time heals all wounds. Maybe it just scars ‘em over. 

“And I remember the boys hating how much I hated you.” Placing his own hand atop of yours, he studies your expression, the way your eyebrows seem to twitch. He hasn’t been this close to you ever. Not on purpose.

Even in the silences before, they knew to keep their distance.

“I guess you were just so perfect and smart and Steve seemed to liked you more than he liked me sometimes.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Everyone liked you.”

“Everyone liked you, too,” you argue. “When you were elected prom king was the worst moment of my night.”

“Only because you were elected prom queen and hated being near me.” He grins when you laugh, your gaze falling to the small distance between them before your eyes find his again, bright with mirth, and his own smile flickers. “I dunno if I got jealous, but I knew I could count on you to challenge me, to distract me from whatever else is going on. You make me righteously angry, but you were also… my companion in a way.” His heart is hammering in his chest as you search his gaze and he wonders when he stopped finding the way you glare irritating and more… beautiful. “I dunno when you became more than that.”

“More?” The word falls gently from your lips and your hand slips from his as you back away. Gates rise before your heart, and he swallows as your gaze searches his. “As if.”

“I never once backed down from a fight for your honour,” he points out and you wrinkle your nose, the uneasiness in your gaze melting away as you turn to the hopscotch again.

“Oh, I know. You punched Barry Turner when you heard he kept touching me.”

“You heard about that?”

“News traveled fast at school.”

“Just like how I heard you slapped Macy Middleton in the gym.”

“She kept spreading rumours about you.” You shake your head. “Rumours Steve told me you hated.” Bucky scoffs and your voice rises in defense. “I tried to tell her to stop, and then she called me a gold digging bitch who only acted like I wasn’t sucking your cock every night.” Eyes widening, Bucky shakes out the feeling crawling down his spine at the mental image flashing in his head as you chuckle.

“Vulgar.” “You’d be surprised by how vulgar dames can be when we’re angry,” you reply easily, shoving your hands in the pockets of his jacket as you whirl around in the empty playground. You are so free like this, bathed in nothing but the faint streetlight and Bucky can’t help but follow, entranced. “Where’re we off to next, anyhow? The night is still young.”

 “Tomorrow we could see the fireworks on Coney Island, but for now, maybe some we could invade a cemetery to hunt ghosts, or go nude swimming at the beach…” he trails off intentionally, and laughs when he spots your expression. It’s almost stricken, definitely shocked. You turn your face away and his expression softens when you begin to walk away. Half-jogging to catch up to you, he falls into step beside you. “Unless you don’t wanna go swimming. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

You stop suddenly and he halts as well, jarringly and cheeks burning but he’s not sure if it’s from shame or from the cold.

And then you turn to him, and your eyes are dancing from glee, and his eyebrows knit together as you burst out laughing.

It’s so loud he’s sure it’ll wake those sleeping in the buildings nearby as you cover your face with your hands. You try to catch your breath, and Bucky runs a hand through his hair, confused.

“James Barnes, flustered. I thought I’d never see the day,” you finally wheeze, clapping him on the shoulder before continuing on the walkway. Bucky’s mouth drops open as he stares after you. “Let’s go. If we’re going swimming, we should grab some towels and head down to the beach.” Flicking your wrist, you gesture for him to follow.

And he does.

He realizes he’d go anywhere you’d ask him to.

.

Bucky sneaking into his house to grab some linen and even a bottle from his mother’s prized collection was not on his list for the night.

But it has made him a subject to your constant teasing, which he can’t complain about.

He hasn’t truly recognized what he’s doing until they’re on the beach already, shoes kicked off and toes sinking into the still-warm sand. 

Untucking his shirt, he begins to unbutton it as you walk to a spot along the shore, putting down the linen and the bottle of whiskey. Carefully undoing the buttons of his jacket, you glance back at him as he approaches, and the moonlight carves into your face elegantly.

There’s an intensity, a heat that fills the silence as he pulls open his shirt and begins to unbuckle his belt. You slowly shed his jacket and fold it over your arm, setting it beside the towels and there’s a fire that burns as your eyes trail up his chest, up to his eyes only to find him already staring.

His heart is melting in his chest, nothing more than an inferno that singes his lungs as you begin to unbutton the front of your dress.

Movements are slow as honey, sure, but purposeful. The way he slides the suspenders off his showers, the gentle flick of your wrist as you undo the button, and Bucky watches as your fingers slip through fabric. His throat is drier than the hottest day in Brooklyn, and his tongue flickers out to wet his lips as you tear your gaze away to focus on undressing.

Words bundle up in his throat, and he glances out to the ocean, ever moving and gleaming silver. The water ripples like silk, the foamy crush seeping into the pale sand.

“James.” Your voice is softer than thunder as he looks to you, and he swallows a thick knot in his throat when he sees the front of your dress wide open. His gaze stays on your face as he pulls his belt out from the loops.

“If you’re uncomfortable…”

“No. It’s okay.” I trust you. “And you?”

“I’m good.”

You let the dress fall in a crumpled heap around your legs. Gooseflesh begins to rise along his arms as he does the same with his shirt, and it’s almost intimate the way they undress underneath lunar glow.

He pulls off his pants, you unwind your girdle and unclasp your bra.

He steps out of his underwear and so do you, and it is breathless the way heat sucks into his lungs. His chest is cloudy, stuffed, and he cannot help but feel lightheaded as he struggles to take a breath. His hands curl into fists as he resists the urge to brush hair away from the slope of your shoulder.

He silently asks a question.

And then, you, with the tiniest dip of your chin, consent.

His eyes roam, as do yours, and it is almost like he is in another plane of existence as he trails past your breasts, down to your legs and up again. His stomach flips and his lips part as he watches your chest rise and fall with your breathing, admires the pouch of your stomach that’s so often hidden away.

Despite what you put on, you’re just as soft as anyone. Just as human.

When eyes meet again, it is like something clicks.

He sticks out your hand, silently asking you to take it.

Your palm slots against his like it is meant to be.

.

It is an awakening. A rebirth, almost.

A clean slate.

They wade in the ocean until their fingers prune and they are aching for something more than just salt water and cold waves.

The hours after the swim is just as quiet, just as reverent in its motion, as they lie on a towel. Another is draped over your body. Bucky, the same, salt water clinging to his hair and skin.

Somehow, they are sweating despite the frigid waters.

“I know I said I am afraid to die,” you say as they stare up at the stars. His whole body is humming with burning blood. “But more than that, I’m afraid of the fear. If that makes sense.”

Bucky turns his head to look at you, commit the profile of your face to his memory as you look at him as well. Salt water glimmers along your cheek as the corner of your mouth simply tugs up in a sad smile.

“I understand,” he whispers. “I feel like it’ll paralyze me. It does, just imagining it.”

“Exactly.” You turn your gaze to the stars again. The whiskey is half empty between the two of you, and it warms the blood in his veins as Bucky feels the back of your hand brush his. His whole body is strung out on electric wire, and his hand alights, every finger tingling. “Do you think we’ll be staring at the same stars?” you ask.

“I sure hope so,” he says. “Maybe we’ll be somewhere close.”

You exhale, long and heavy through your nose. “I hope so, too.” You adjust the towel on your chest as you drag your feet against the linen underneath your back. “Did you ever… I mean…”

“Hm?”

“I’ve never been naked with a man before,” you say, rolling onto your side, one hand clutching the towel to your chest and he glances at you, his blue gaze downy soft as he traces the slope of your nose with his eyes. “Much less go swimming nude with one.”

“Who would have thought?” he murmurs and your smile grows, eyes fluttering down, away from his face and then back again. “I’m glad you trust me, now.”

“Oh, I think I’ve always trusted you,” you whisper, breath tickling his lips. He can taste the liquor on your tongue as he gently inclines his head towards you. Noses nearly brush and he begins to smile. “Thank you… for this. For everything.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s done nothing except bring you nude swimming at the beach, but it feels wrong to say so, so he simply replies, “You’re welcome.” Then, more genuine: “Thank you for indulging me. It’s not every night I’m here with my supposed archenemy,” he teases and you chuckle deep in your chest. At least you’re not too somber to laugh.

“It was nice,” you assure him quietly. “It’s different when I’m with you.” Your hand goes from your chest to his shoulder, tracing invisible shapes and marking them into his skin. He nearly shivers at your touch, but maybe it’s the cold. “You’re not afraid of the quiet.”

 It’s like I can be myself.

Bucky wonders if the fire in his chest is from the alcohol or something else as your fingers slowly interlace with his.

.

The days pass by in glances, fleeting touches. In bright sparks, sunny days, movie theatres. 

You smile more with every waking moment Bucky spends with you.

If Steve notices anything, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom last minute before the movie starts, prompting you to sit beside Bucky in the dark for two hours.

It is that day he realizes you don’t like horror pictures, and the day after he learns you adore science films. More parts of you unveil themselves, just like how he discovers you enjoy hotdogs on Coney Island the night they watch fireworks together and how you can weave flower crowns with practiced fingers when they spend an afternoon with Ma and Becca.

It is almost like he’s known you his whole life.

.

He asks if you want to go to the Stark Expo. He doesn’t imply that it is a date, and by the innocent quirk of your eyebrows, you don’t think of it as such.

You say yes, and spend the whole night by his side.

.

“James.”

Your voice is lit with surprise, brilliant in its loudness and he turns to where you’re wading through the crowd. You’re darling in your nurse’s outfit and he almost blushes when your dancing eyes find his.

Matched with your morning smile, he can’t help but smile himself.

There’s a somberness to you, though, that he wonders if only he can see as Rebecca pushes past him and throws her arms around you.

“Y/N! Thank god you’re here on time,” his sister says and you smile, patting the girl’s back. “How was the Stark Expo? Was there really a flying car?”

“It was a nice night out. But, what are you doing here, Rebecca?” you ask, bemused, and his sister’s shoulders rise and fall innocently as she turns back to Bucky. Your eyes find his and he half-smiles as if to apologize, but you shake your head minutely. “I thought you said only your mother was seeing you off.”

“Well, Bucky said you wouldn’t have anyone throwing you a farewell party and I thought I ought to join,” Rebecca says, her lips curling into a smirk. “Bucky talks a lot about you.”

“Oh, do you?” you mutter warily, eyeing Bucky who is shooting daggers at his sister. “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or does he only complain?” The corner of your mouth quirks up as you look at Bucky and he rolls his eyes. 

“Well, before it used to be complaining. It’s much nicer now.”

“I assume it’s about our science classes together.” You’ll never let that go and Bucky snorts, trying to cover up his amusement. “Although, seeing as he’s going off a soldier, he seems to manage just fine without me, now.”

“No, I don’t.” The words fly out of his mouth before he can stop it, and a silence falls between them. You stare at him, trying to decipher what lays in his face, and he gazes, embarrassed, into the depths of your irises. Your lips part as if you want to say something, but the words seemed to have dissipated in the wake of his response, and his hands curl into fists in an attempt to stop himself from touching you somehow.

Make everything worse, anyhow.

“Can we have a moment alone?” you ask quickly, clearing your throat with raised eyebrows. Rebecca, tucking a curl behind her ear, glances from Bucky to you, before smirking and nodding emphatically.

Bucky internally sighs.

Can his sister make herself anymore obvious?

Turning to their mother who had watched the whole debacle just occur with amusement, Rebecca loops her arm around hers. “C’mon, Ma. We should… head over there. Look at the ships,” she suggests and Winnifred huffs a smile. Catching your eyes, his mother rises an incredulous eyebrow and your mouth drops open when his mother wraps you in a warm embrace,

“Stay safe on that side, dear. I would love to get to know you once you come home from the war,” she says. You seem to soften in his mother’s arms before she pulls back and then Rebecca throws herself at you. You catch her, of course, and your eyes flutter shut.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” Rebecca murmurs into your neck and you gently run a hand down her back, sweet smile upon your lips. “You better come back and marry Bucky,” she adds fiercely and Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to conceal the heat that flushes over his entire body as you open your eyes and look at him. Your face is set in stone, serious as a librarian during exams, and you study him, the blush pooling in his cheeks despite the cold wind.

“We’ll be back, and you will be our chief wedding planner,” you say, drawing back and the air in Bucky’s lungs disappears. “I promise.”

You’re magic, that way. You manage to make him feel these things he doesn’t understand are possible.

He can’t breathe, his heart beating in his head and throat and everywhere. You’ve captured him in your gaze and even when you look away, his body struggles to work. Unblinking, he watches your mouth move but he can’t hear a thing. Everything is white noise and he cannot see anything in this crowd except for you.

Throat dry, he feels the last bit of air left in his chest escape in the softest of sighs before a hand settles on his shoulder and he flinches to see his mother smirking at him.

“Ma,” he breathes, shoulders dropping. His heart is racing in his chest, bouncing on the walls of his ribs. “You scared me.”

“You let your guard down around her,” she says with a shrug as if to say she’s not to blame. 

“What are you talking about, Ma?” He struggles to keep his tone non-confrontational but he doesn't understand why he’s so defensive. Is he worse around you? Better? And has he just found you just to die battlefields apart?

“Oh, I’ve never seen a girl make you quite so flustered. Normally, it’s the other way around.”

“She just gets under my skin. I don’t like her that way,” he lies, shaking the feeling out of his jacket but it still lingers at the nape of his neck, a wriggling, tickling sensation.

“In my experience, it’s the ones who challenge you that are the ones you can’t let escape.” His mother cocks her head, eyes narrowed in an emotion Bucky can’t decipher before she turns to pry Rebecca off you. “Let’s go, Becca. We’ll see Bucky before he boards.”

“I’ll come find you,” he promises, and you wave to his family as they sink into the crowd, your eyes warm and empty with realization.

This is it.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he shuffles closer to you, catching your attention again.

“Marry me?” he repeats fondly, and you smirk, the hollowness abating you for just a moment. Bucky wonders if it’s the same for you. If he makes you forget the way you do for him. “And here I thought you hated me.”

“Well, we have to give her sister what she wants, don’t we?” He chuckles and your smile is a flimsy thing before your face turns serious again. “And I don’t hate you,” you whisper, your body stiff in the cold dawn, and he adjusts the nurse’s cap on your head before thumbing over your cheek. You melt into him, shoulders falling and eyebrows knitting together, and you don’t smile, but he can read it all in your eyes.

You surrender to his touch, let him tilt you forward so he can gently kiss your brow. The place is bustling and the crowd pushes them together as he wraps his arms around you, pouring all he cannot say into where his lips meet your skin. You do not speak, and simply snake your arms around his waist, pull him close.

There they stand, and Bucky thinks he can get used to this feeling.

This warmth, the strength of your body against his, the way you make his heart swell larger than life.

“Is it too late to tell the boys I get seasick?” he asks, and you laugh.

He loves the sound of your laugh.

“Might be, Sarge.”

He thinks he loves everything about you, really.

“I do have something for you, actually,” you say as his forehead presses against yours and you mumble it under your breath. Around the ruckus of the bustling port, your voice is all he focuses in on. “It’s just me being… I don’t know, superstitious, I suppose.”

“What is it?” He feels your hands shift between them as you pull something out of your pocket, and it is a simple ring, gleaming gold. “We’re not actually getting married, are we?” he asks breathlessly, eyes flickering up to yours and you lift your head as you take his hand and slide it onto his right middle finger.

It’s a bit too loose, but he watches it settle upon his hand anyway.

“It was my father’s,” you explain quietly and he knocks his head against yours. Your eyes flutter shut at the warmth of his brow against yours and he aches to kiss you, but he doesn’t. “It was supposed to give him good luck, and he always said it kept him alive during the war, and it worked, so…” Your hands cup his neck, and your thumbs brush against his jaw. His hand comes around your waist, the other settling in the small of your back. The ring is cool, a new tiny weight on his hand and something inside him collapses. “Stay safe on the other side, soldier.”

“Is that an order?”

“Doctor’s orders,” you affirm, your lips twisting into a grin. “You ought to follow them.”

“I will do my best,” he whispers and you chuckle. “And I’ll see you on the other side of the war.”

“It’ll be awful boring without you otherwise.”

“As it’ll be boring for me without you.”

Noses brush as you lean towards him, your fingers warm and cold and strong, desperately holding onto him. For a moment, he thinks you might kiss him, and your breath ghosts against his lips before you halt, just a whisper away from him. Everything zeroes in on you. He can hear nothing but your soft breaths, his heart in his ears. His stomach tugs him in every direction and he swallows, eyes cast on your lips, your eyes, every part of your face.

Then you turn your face away, your aching sigh against his cheek. His fingers dig into your flesh through your dress, and your hands slide down his shoulders.

His heart cracks.

Tilting your head, you swallow and he can hear his heart in his ears, as his hands draw to your waist. Then, you turn your head and your lips almost brush his. 

He can taste you, just barely, the smell of perfume clinging to your skin. How easy it would be, to simply close the distance, push his mouth against yours and feel you kiss him back, except it wouldn’t be easy at all.

He knows why you don’t kiss him. 

It’s the same reason why he doesn’t kiss you.

Kissing makes it real, makes it true, makes it too hard to leave and you need to go. If you kiss him, you will never leave his arms and if he kisses you, he will evade any force that will force him overseas just so he can stay with you.

No matter how much his heart yearns to reach yours, no matter how much he wants to taste you, feel you beneath his hands…

He doesn’t.

He can’t.

To kiss you would be to make it real. To manifest something between them left unsaid is a frightening thing when they stand in death’s palm.

It would be unfair. It would be cruel to love only to die, but he does. 

In the past few days, he has felt everything the stories always said about love: fulfillment, pure happiness, indescribable joy and a lightness to his chest he has never felt before.

Heartwrenching agony. Poisonous grief. A pain enough to shatter bones.

He loves you, and he is devastated.

“Goodbye, Sergeant Barnes.” You pull back, your hands sliding down his arms and he catches your fingers in his, desperate not to let you slip away. Only to prolong the inevitable. Your eyes are struggling not to shed their tears, your lips twisted in a bittersweet smile as you struggle to come up with a way… a way to say everything you cannot say aloud. He doesn’t want to see you cry, but he does not say so. He is barely breathing. “Goodbye… Bucky.”

It isn’t enough.

It never will be.

“Goodbye, doll,” he whispers. Your eyes flicker from his face to his hands, and he squeezes your palms gently before you tear yourself away, force yourself not to look back, slip into the crowd and disappear forever.

He does not chase after you even though he does not want your story to end.

.

“Buck.”

The man standing before the tombstone looks up, over his shoulder, to Steve.

“We need to get back before it gets dark.”

And then he smiles, solemn and sad before turning back towards the stone. Stepping closer, he crouches before the engraved stone and runs a hand carefully over its curve. 

“I’ll see you next weekend, doll,” he whispers, leaning forward and pressing numb lips to cold stone. The emptiness inside him seems to sew itself shut, just an inch at both ends, before he draws back. His metal hand flutters over the engraving, and his lips part in a silent sigh before digging through his jacket and setting the simple, golden ring in the dirt. It glimmers in the pale sunlight, and he smiles but it disappears before it can truly settle. “The ring worked. God, I only wish it was with you.”

He stands and turns back to Steve.

“I just wanted to say my goodbyes,” Bucky says, voice barely louder than the autumn wind. “Y’know, she was… She died so young. She was…”

He doesn’t want to say love of his life, because that means he missed it.

Missed his chance.

“It was quick,” is all Steve says. “A bombing. If she felt any pain, it was only for a second.”

“I think it would’ve been the fear that killed her,” Bucky replies softly, walking towards his old friend. “It’s getting late. We should start heading back.”

“We could get something to eat—” Steve tries, but Bucky merely shakes his head. 

“I’m not hungry tonight.”

When he gets back to the facility, he excuses himself to his room and puts on a record that was all the rage back in their day. He vaguely recalls it playing a few times when the Commandos were out late drinking in London.

Every time, he thought of you, somewhere out there, and the mandatory prom king and queen dance they had together.

What he wouldn’t give for another chance to dance with you again.

He collapses on the bed, lying down and letting the music lull him to sleep. Eyes slipping shut, he imagines a life where he had said something different, imagines a life where the dreams he dreams now are a reality.

He imagines a life where you knew he loved you.

Where it wasn’t too late.

“If there is some other way to prove that I love you I swear I don't know how You'll never know if you don't know now You'll never know if you don't know now…”

[breanime]

Last one!! This one is for my boy Billy ( also a challenge) bonus 3 “Why did you punch him/her?!” “Why does anyone do anything?” Smut 12 “Does he fuck you like this? Yeah, I didn’t think so.” ( you can probably change does to did) And bonus 5 “Let’s get married. Today. Now.”

warning: steamy; also, changed the smut quote a bit

*gif not mine*

You weren’t terribly familiar with bar culture

You were more of a drink at home kind of girl

But Frank wanted to have a get together at Curtis’ favorite bar to congratulate him on winning a (well-deserved) counselor’s achievement award

So you went

You made sure to dress up nice, throw on a little makeup, and do your hair

Partly because you didn’t want to look like a bum at Curtis’ party

And partly because Billy was going to be there

You and Billy were friends

And then you’s been friends with benefits

Then you were a couple

And then, after a year and a half of dating and living together, he called it off

And not even two months later, you were back to being friends with benefits again

It wasn’t what you wanted, but if it meant you could have Billy--

--even just for a small period of time--

Then you would take it

So you were hoping you’d hook up again tonight

But he was being kind of stand-offish

Not talking much, kind of just sipping his beer and hanging off to the side

And you weren’t going to push him, so you hung out with Frank, Curtis, and Karen

You ended up ordering drinks for everyone (save Billy) and started up a conversation with another guy at the bar who was ordering drinks

He was nice, and soon enough, you found yourself standing outside with him, just shooting the shit

You were a little buzzed, which was why you didn’t read his signals as clearly as you would have done sober

The smiling, the laughing, how he leaned in close to you whenever there was a lull in conversation

He was definitely trying to get lucky

But you didn’t catch that until he was leaning into your space

And kissing you

And just as quick as his mouth had descended on yours

Was how fast he was ripped away

You blinked your eyes open just as you heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh

The guy was on the ground and Billy, all dark eyes, was standing above him with a scowl

“Why did you punch him?!” You gasped out, watching as the guy, completely cowed, ran off

“Eh,” he rolled his shoulders, appearing completely unbothered, “Why does anyone do anything?”

Your jaw dropped “What--what does--are you out of your mind?”

Billy moved quickly, taking two big steps until he was right in front of you, staring down at you with those black eyes

You expected a challenge, or another shitty one liner, but instead he said

“I need to talk to you.”

Which somehow lead to the two of you making out behind the bar

Billy pulled your pants down so hard and so quick that he left scratches on your thighs

(Not that you minded)

He pulled you to him, his tongue in your mouth as he picked you up

You wrapped your legs around his waist

And then he was pulling his own pants down, one handed

You both groaned lowly when he pushed into you

“Fuck,” you gasped out, pulling at his carefully styled hair, “Billy...”

“This what you wanted?” He growled, his New York accent thick in your ear, “You think he could fuck you like this? Huh?”

 “No,” you answered honestly, “nobody can fuck me like you can, Billy!”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he kissed you again, and even though his hips were slamming into you, rougher than ever, his kiss was gentle, “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Missed me?” You pulled at his hair, giggling when he hissed. “I’m right here.”

“No,” he pulled back, eyes on you, “I miss you. Being with you,” he slowed his pace down, pushing into you deeply before pulling back, “I made a mistake, breaking up with you.”

You dropped your head down on his shoulder; you knew he was waiting for you to respond, but the slow, deep way he was fucking you had you speechless

He knew that, and he chuckled

“Okay,” he said, taking hold of your hips and pulling you into a rhythm with him, “okay... We’ll talk later...”

He moved, positioning himself on the brick wall, leaning back against it as he fucked you

You came with his name on your mouth, and Billy came right after

He set you down onto your feet, kissing your face slowly as you got your breathing back under control

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice low, “and I thought if I could just... let you go, let you be with someone good, someone who deserves you, I’d be okay with that, but I’m not.”

You sighed, looking up at him, pants still around your ankles. “I love you too, Billy, but I--”

“Let’s get married,” he blurted out, “Today. Now.”

And once again, he made your jaw drop

“What?!”

“I’m serious,” he went on, “I love you. I want to marry you,” he licked his lips, “Maybe not right this second,” he amended, smiling a bit, “I wanna be able to give you everything you want; the dress, the church, the ring...but I want this with you.”

You bit your lip; there were so many signs pointing to “no”, but your heart was screaming “yes”

You leaned up and kissed him, and you felt Billy relax against you

He was still smiling when you pulled back, and so were you

“How about you buy me a drink first?”

He kissed you

“A drink,” he agreed, “and then an engagement.”

You laughed into his mouth, at the very least, this would make a good story to tell at the wedding

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

This might be the only one for tonight, so I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip, I would greatly appreciate it!

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