#animal control was called. we stood outside for a solid hour waiting on them. we saw them drive past our house

[technovillain]

oh man. i am so......... i will vent in the tags

[worldsover]

Dal Segno ft. Chuu

length ✦ 3570

genres ✧ music making; oral fixation; facefuck; subby!Chuu

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Composition is only fifty percent of the process, you've heard, but it's closer to ten for you. For the importance of a solid melody and chord progression with the right instruments and singer, a song becomes less than the sum of its parts with bad mixing because all that effort goes to waste when you can’t hear something, or when something is too loud, or when a certain je ne sais quoi is wrong. But you do know. You don't have to be a chef to be a food critic but it certainly helps. Avoid muddling the lows as it waters down the soup. Carve space in the highs to prevent too much salt from killing the taste buds. Have at most five sounds at a time or else the flavors clash. Focus on these basic techniques to guide you as repetition wears down your mind. Funny. Repetition legitimizes especially in music yet here you are fatigued by repetition as though you weren't down four cups of black coffee. Repetition legitimizes. “From the sign,” the translation reads. Notation, simply instructing a musician to return to a certain point in a piece. You recognize it as an intro song you wrote years ago.

Glass and foam separate the undersized room. Cheap ramen and dampness in the hot air contribute to the odor. You would keep the fan on, if it were worth the extra time filtering out faint noise from recordings. The only scent that keeps you sane is a slight strawberry flavor lingering in the room. Jiwoo. Your muse. A large clock holds both of its hands near one with the lack of natural light muddling whether it’s AM or PM. Studios were always underground man-caves whether they were discount rooms or the signature workspace of the biggest producers. Here you are in the former. Look down at the Macbook and all the wires, sliders, and knobs. Deep breath. “Take 63,” you say into the cheap control room microphone.

“Not good enough.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Look up. Jiwoo sucks on a grape lollipop. You stare. Watching her fixated on getting all flavor out of the purple sweet derails your flow state. See, work had a rhythm. Listen, volume up, hotkey to copy this clip, volume down. The obvious innuendo sends you offbeat. That perky butt bending over to get a notebook filled with lyrics entrenches the folds of your brain. She didn’t have to wear that skirt. You’ve seen that skirt already and you wish she weren’t wearing it. Oh, you really wish she weren’t wearing that skirt. Guilt sets in. You’re a trusted coworker, she, a naive girl. It takes a while to find your groove again. Your stare has yet to cease until she finally returns the eye contact with candy still in mouth. Her pink tongue laps to secure all the sugar and red pillows engulf the ever-shrinking circle. Pop. Anyone else and it would be calculated action.

“Oppa." Her voice resounds in your monitor headphones. "I don’t know if these harmonies really make sense. Why did you write the second voice to cross down below the main line? Plus it goes so low."

“To be fair, you wrote both of those melodies and you said you wanted them in the same song. Tell me anywhere else they’d work.”

“Ugh, let’s figure this out later. Next song.“

Dozens of takes later and Jiwoo’s frustration causes her to make mistakes. Sometimes she even tries to start singing with the sucker in her mouth. For the character she plays, you know she’s a professional and that she can be better. Yet hours later, she still could not get the vocal runs right. Incomplete songs bloat your project folder: "Jiwoo - Mania", "Jiwoo - Look Closer", "Jiwoo - Untitled Idea 21". Just a small side project that the company approved during another ample period of break time between comebacks. That’s why the director didn’t even let you use the company’s facilities, instead opting to rent out this cheap closet of a studio. At least no one would be mad about the amount of time you spent recording together.

You shift seats from the leather office chair to the white lovechair, the only two pieces of furniture that fit comfortably in the room. Jiwoo follows suit and leaves the recording booth, really more of a phone booth in square footage, while she huffs and puffs on her candy.

“I’m tired, oppa,” she says.

“Me too, Jiwoo. May I remind you that I’m not getting paid extra for this. Are you gonna focus or what?” your voice just a few cents down, just a bit harsher.

“I, I’m sorry.” A lick anyway. Her meek tone disappears, “Ya! You know how good your royalties are gonna be. Sole producer and all that. Plus, here you are still doing all this work for me." Why were you working so hard on this? "You know, if you just taught me how to use Ableton-”

“Then I’d be out of a job.”

Jiwoo frowns, “Wow, selfish much? You could’ve joined me as a trainee.”

“Nah, no way. Fish dance better.”

“Shut up, oppa. You would’ve easily made it with your, um, musical talent.” She clamps down on the lollipop with her mouth.

“You good? What was that?”

“Let’s," she stands promptly, "get back to recording.”

Crack. Jiwoo bites down on the lollipop and throws the stick in the trash. In ten minutes, she nails the verse she spent hours trying to get right. It'd be really nice to know what catalyzed that rally. You'd ask but driving Jiwoo back to her dorm is quiet as usual.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Make a good impression on someone, anyone, on your first day as a mixing engineer. That’s why you returned to the Blockberry Creative building with an extra bar of Melona in hand. A simple bribery. Light beamed down between two skyscrapers on a short girl with long hair and strands of bangs adorning her forehead. She stood outside the lobby, introducing herself to every passerby. You had to pinch her cheeks, the intrusive thought screamed.

She scurried up to you. “Hi! I’m Kim Jiwoo and I’m going to become an idol!”

Ah, a trainee. You already knew she was destined to become one. Well, not literally, you weren’t in charge of that. But her overflowing charm was impossible to ignore. You had to tease her though, “Are you sure?”

“Hey! What would you know about that, mister?” she said.

You bit down on your mango. “Mister? First of all, I’m only a high school senior,” her lips rounded in surprise, “And second, I’m your new audio guy, and I know for a fact they’re debuting you girls in order of talent.”

“Woooow. Well, I’ll have you know, I have a great voice!” She certainly spoke lyrically.  “Wait a minute, I didn’t know they hired people that young.” You pointed at her. “Okay, I’m in high school too. But that’s different, idols start this age.”

“I guess. I’ve been making music ever since I was a kid, and they liked what I had,” you said and Jiwoo nodded in understanding.

She fluttered her eyebrows. “Sooo, is that mango ice cream for me? Oppa?” A little surprised she already called you that, but it sounded right.

“No, I have this unopened strawberry-” Jiwoo snatched the half-eaten cold treat from your hand, and started licking it. Trouble she would be.

You spent many recording sessions together, alone after all the other members left. She cozied up to you because her little musical snippets had to become full-fledged tracks and you helped her out every time.

Something changed over the years however. Your interactions became colder. It felt like you were the only one who she would respond to in a deeper voice. Jiwoo wouldn't pepper you with silly acts or mess around. Maybe she took you more seriously which is how you managed to make more songs together regardless. Then, you stood idly by and watched her debut. Who didn't love her? But when she was with you, you missed the playfulness, the ice cream and her riffing over your playful guitar strums. It turned less of a hobby and more of a job though you never regretted any second with Jiwoo regardless.

Under the Earth's largest natural satellite, you shared a simple meal in black bean noodles. She was still in her hippie outfit from the comeback, and you handed her your jacket since it was cold. You realized, there was something else there that you were too inexperienced to notice. Your bodies' radiation replace the chill in the air, a bubble with just the two of you eating on the grass in a park near your dorm. A cliche slurping on one noodle and Jiwoo pulled away. In embarrassment, like a damn anime character, she hiccuped. Good thing you didn't close your eyes when you leaned in.

“Wanna make an album together?” Jiwoo says.

“Sure.”

You threw away the noodles’ package and escorted her home. That was all you expected anyway. Fine.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“That’s enough!”

Three goddamn weeks. It's been three goddamn weeks and you've barely made any progress.

Barge into the booth, slam the door shut and raise your tone, just below a shout, “I've had it up to here! You know how many of my songs have been mashed together in some unholy quest for your perfection? Just one unknown something is missing and either you start complaining or we move on to the next."

She backs up from the mic to the insulated wall but you continue, paying no heed to her, as you spout your piece to the artificially cold air, "You know how much time I’ve spent outside working on these songs? These are songs I’ve saved up over years. And you trash them like they’re nothing. How do you even manage to record LOONA tracks?”

Regret sinks in. This was your passion project as much as hers. Was it frustration from the recordings? Weeks of the same routine and it took until now for you to give in to your temper.

"It wouldn't even be that bad! If you could just one time, you could be cute or cheerful again with me, or,” Fuck. So stupid. You don’t have to take your friendships for granted like this. You’re lucky enough she treats you as much. “Hold on. Wait, I'm-"

Examine her face. It’s not sour and she hasn’t stormed out or even slapped you.

“No, no. You don’t have to say it. I’m. I’m sorry oppa.” She looks down. “I'm the one messing up after all." Her heartbeat a harsh snare drum. "And you. You're. Different. Looking at you always made me feel some, something funny. Not funny but? Ugh. I wish I could explain it.”

You hold in your confusion.

She blabbers on, “Like, are. Are you mad? I promise you, I,” A nervous breath, ”I like you. Okay?"

Your confusion grows like the length of your silence.

"I’m just acting how I really am with you. Do you want to maybe, I don't know, like," her voice decrescendos, "Um. Punish me?”

Your heart, your brain are deprived of blood as it all rushes down. Did you hear that right? Not an apology, not retribution, but a call to punishment? Misinterpreting her, the consequences would be dire but that damned demure tone for such an erotic request. Was Jiwoo the exact type of slut constructed in your mind? The one that made you feel sinful for even imagining. No, no, there's no way.

Too late. Jiwoo must have noticed the absurd bulge now. It had to be these Adidas pants today. Fuck it. Life can’t be lived fully without risk. Hopefully, the same switch turned in her mind. You remove all ire from your face and say in earnest, “Do you like games?"

She lights up a little. You sigh relieved.

"Let’s try…”, you say, ”Strip recording.” She lights up a little more, so you go on, ”If I mess up anything, the mix, the composition, the arrangement, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Your choice. And every time you mess up-”

Jiwoo unbuttons her denim shorts and brings them down her tight legs.

“D- did I say now?”

However, with her resolve steeled, she continues pulling them. "So what? I did mess up, right?" she says coquettish. Deliberate the turn she makes when she bows down to remove the shorts from her legs, Jiwoo reveals a hint of her innie pussy on that same little ass that ran through your mind earlier. A small trace of her thighs glistens, the only thing reflecting the single lightbulb’s glow in the microphone’s abode. She turns back to face you. "Please. Punish me."

Step closer until Jiwoo backs up to the soundproofing. She’s an eighth note away from your face, flashing her beady eyes and a coy smile, ”Where's your underwear?" A little drop spills out onto the floor, "And why are you so wet, Jiwoo-ah?”

Red on her cheeks, like she only now realized her dishevelment in front of you. “You just… Something about you snapping at me. I don’t get it either. I knew you'd do it, some day, I wanted you to," she mumbles in her best efforts to answer you.

“Have you ever worn underwear to the recordings?”

Those efforts continue to fail.

"Oh, Kim Jiwoo. What do I do with you?" One of your hands grabs her cheek. The other crawls down her back to grab her cheek.

“Oppa… Do I have to say it?”

“I want to hear every." Smack. "Word." Smack. She slips a moan.

“Can you," she says, "can you use my mouth?”

You disguise your long pause as thought, teasing the bare skin of her ass with your exploratory fingers to bide time, but it's an expression of your shock. The interruption helps you come up with a more suitable punishment however.

“How about this then. Every time you mess up, you have to give me a blowjob. Call?”

“Call!” Once more, unprompted, she kneels down in front of you and claws away your track pants. You roll with the punches.

"Oppaa," with an pronounced pop and in a sing-songy rhythm, "I've always wanted to know, if your dick-" It certainly didn't need Jiwoo's dainty hands pulling on your boxers, as it would've sprang out on its own with how like diamond your cock is getting.

"Fuuuck," the first profanity you ever hear her utter, she lilts. "Please. Oppa. Fuck my face?"

After all she said, she could still surprise you. Bring your hips forward and just as you would've her pussy, tease Jiwoo’s lips with the head of your dick. She parts them open, starved, anxious.

Hold her by the chin. "Wait."

She freezes at the command. Again, like foreplay, rub her lips with that head making them turn redder and more plump. You sweep aside her bangs to see her begging eyes. More importantly, slide your dick up to her nude forehead to slap as a first act of retribution. “A-ah!” Jiwoo stutters as you slap her face with your manhood again and again. Bring your cock back down and she's already a mess without you even having entered her mouth. A little drool from her shut lips gently massages your balls while a bit of precum drools from your slit to meet those lips.

Jiwoo mumbles as best as she can with you holding her jaw shut and your dick on her lips, "Please. Please. Shove your dick in me. I need you in my mouth."

You squint your rough eyes to command her.

Muffled still, "Oppa. Please. I. I need to taste you. You just, you're so thick and you're so long and cock is perfect and please I just-"  Loosen the grip on her chin to let her envelop the entire tip with her warm lips. "Mmmmm..." the moan resonates a saw wave and your stern resolve fades away on your first entrance into her face but it returns as her teeth rub against you. She quickly readjusts her jaw but it takes multiple attempts of you pulling out and her sucking you back until only silken lips hold your cock's head. Finally. A focused glint in her eyes. She endeavours to keep your tip in her mouth as long as possible.

You were mad at her earlier, weren't you?

Recall this anger and press yourself into her with all your hips' strength, working against the force of her lip's airtight suction. Saliva leaks to betray the seal. Jiwoo's prying tongue explores the underside of your cock but you reach an impasse while she's not even halfway down the shaft. You shove your dick deeper but to no avail and tears roll down her eyes joining the fluids coating her lips. Thus you exit back out. And back in you go to repeat and repeat and slowly increase your rate, becoming rough sex with her diligent mouth. All the positions you’ve imagined fucking her little pussy, you picture using her throat instead. Even in this compact studio, the couch, chair and desk would provide ample support for you to use her in many ways. The dirty thoughts inspire your speed right now. She slurps and gulps at every quick plunge but you realize her moans and rumbles aren't just incoherent reactions. You decelerate.

“Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhh… Ah’ve ahways- Hmph.” She slurs as she tries her hardest to communicate while her airway is blocked.

She slides up your cock to catch some air, “Thought about it- Mmm.”

“Your dick in my mouth and it’s just so pew, fect- Ahhh.” Jiwoo's lips let go gently then her tongue sticks out to lick up your cock and she shows off a trail of spit leading to your tip. A less patient man would’ve jerked himself off right there to grant her eyes and open mouth's unison request to feed on your cum.

Instead you retort, “You think you’ve earned it? Not even halfway down. Going nowhere, just like our recording sessions, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Oof.” You’re already weak in the knees so Jiwoo's one handed shove sends your tailbone to the floor. Since you’re still dazed by her confounding strength, she takes initiative and kowtows her head into your lap to crawl down your cock with her tiny lips. Fondling your balls, Jiwoo starts from the furthest point she could muster on your shaft up to your cock head. Her tongue follows back and she starts playing under your tip to swirl that tongue around the most sensitive parts until it explores your slit. You buckle and groan. Jiwoo sucks and spits and sucks while she circles only the most minimal twisting motion of her lips on your head. This is the Jiwoo you know. Relentless. Only now your load is her magnus opus.

Her right hand strays downwards and her face on your dick blocks a full view but you can tell that hand is working as intensely as her mouth. As she strokes herself with more vigor, she starts humming a satisfied melody on your tip. In kind, your subtle grunts turn into full-bodied moans. You're a single measure away from your coda so you reach down and pull her off your cock by grabbing her neck.

You glare into her. “Desperate little girl, aren't you?”

Her breath is stilted and she's nearly shaking. “Please…” she sobs, ”You, you want it as bad as I do right?” Of course. “Won't you just cum for me?” Not now. Not when you have putty in your hands.

“You're making a mess. You can't take me all the way down. And I see that it’s not just your saliva coating the floor.” Point to the spot where she kneels, her drool joins a stain growing ever larger with a strand of juice from her pussy flowing as you continue to berate her. Then you point to her hand. Ha. “Were you playing with yourself using my pencil?”

“No… Wait!”

You back off. “Your top’s a mess too. Anyone can tell I just fucked your face.” You take off your black hoodie and give it to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our next session.”

“Wait, we didn’t book tomorrow, did we? Also, you can’t just leave me like this! Oppa!”

"I said, I'll see you tomorrow. I have to go,“ you remind her, ”Ha Rin’s picking you up. And give me back that pencil.”

She hands it to you, unable to meet your eyes despite hers lusting over your cock. You'll definitely use the alluring musk on it for later to save you from your self-induced blue balls. Exit the booth. Of course she barely waits to use your hoodie the same way since she doesn’t notice you lingering in the room. Instead of hiding the grey long sleeve that soaks her neck, your used sweatshirt covers Jiwoo’s face as her fingers make the mess on the floor larger.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Swear to god I’m not just writing the cutest idols to write for. I mean maybe I am but also this answer from @nsfwtwicecatcher​ and all the subsequent pictures that I found of Chuu pouting inspired me. Also, this was a longer piece but I kept spinning my tires on it and decided to split it up, so look out for more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fermata, the aforementioned sequel

[thorne93]

Long Lost Love (Part 2)

Prompt: Clint just lost everything. He turns to you – an old friend and an old flame – for comfort. Can you keep your old feelings at bay? Can he?

Word Count: 1304

Warnings: The Snap, grief, loss, mentions of abuse throughout series, angst will be the best friend in this fic

Note: This was written after IW, but before Endgame - so I have my own take on how certain things happened. Couldn’t have done this without @arrow-guy​ @carryonmyswansong @like-a-bag-of-potatoes (my amazing betttaa!) @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Aesthetic by @dontshootmespence​

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

“It’s okay, you’re all alright,” you cooed as you went around to the animals in the office. Another loud crash happened outside and instinctively, you ducked. You were in the back, avoiding the windows. “I hope they get this fixed soon,” you said to no one as you stayed crouching. 

Suddenly, you heard the front door open. You picked up a scalpel and slowly looked around the corner of the doorway, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw your blonde friend.

“Clint?” you breathed, putting the scalpel on the counter.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said with a sort of fondness. 

“What… uh, what’s up?” you asked tentatively, your heart trying to recover from seeing him. 

“We need some patching up, could you do us a solid?” he requested, gesturing to his teammates.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Everyone take a seat and I’ll get some supplies.” 

You tried to slow your breathing on your way back to the supply closet. Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest you thought everyone could hear it out in the waiting room. 

Finally, with shaking hands, you grabbed gauze, a needle and sutures, and some ointments. Then you made your way back out. 

“So what the hell is going on out there?” you asked in a quiet tone as you kneeled before the first person. Captain America, you believed it was.

“Alien invasion,” Natasha informed you. You’d met her twice before, with her and Clint being… close. 

“Sounds exciting,” you murmured.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Tony stated. 

“Thanks to Tony, we think the aliens are dead now,” Steve said with praise. 

“That’s good,” you agreed. It killed you that Clint wasn’t talking to you. Steve had a cut on his elbow and scraped knees that you tended to. Next was Natasha. She tried to wave you off but you just gave her a stern look and she showed you her lip, cheek, and side where she’d been cut. 

You went down the line, healing, stitching, applying bandages. This was your first time meeting all but Nat. They each thanked you kindly.

“Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you have evacuated?” Steve asked when they were about to leave.

“I can’t leave these animals,” you said.

“What’d I tell ya?” Clint said. “I knew she’d be here.” 

“Well we need to start damage control,” Tony stated. “First, shawarma. Then, damage control.” 

The team started to leave before you said, “Hey, Clint?”

He spun to look at you. 

“Yeah?”

“Could we talk a second?”

“I really gotta go, Y/N.” 

“I know but… just a minute.”

“I’m sorry. I need to go. Thank you for your help. It means a lot. I’ll have Tony send you some money for your troubles.” 

“Clint, I don’t want--”

But he moved quickly out the door, making you sigh heavily before going back to check on the animals one final time. Just like always, he just walked out of your life, leaving you bleeding. 

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

Finding Clint’s farm was hellish. He really did live off the grid. You drove up and got out of the car, taking in the beautiful land and home. It was stunning to you, you’d always wanted land and animals like this but your practice was in Manhattan so you lived just outside the city. But this, this right here was what you’d always dreamed of. 

You walked up to the door and knocked on a rickety green screen door, holding your breath. 

When the wooden interior door opened, you saw the man that was the broken version of Clint. 

You threw open the screen door and pulled him into your arms quickly. At first he didn’t move and you just held him, but within a few seconds, he grabbed you back, gripping you so tight it hurt. He began weeping into your shoulder and you just held him. 

This lasted only a few minutes, but you felt it was something he needed. 

“You, uh, wanna come in?” Clint asked, gesturing lazily to the inside of his home, trying to wipe his face off.

You nodded and stepped in beside him. 

“It looks like you’re keeping up with the house really well,” you noted appreciatively, looking around the house. 

“Thanks…” he murmured, his head hanging. 

You reached up and squeezed his arm. “Hey, you okay?”

“No, not really.” 

“Well you look like you need a shower, have you showered?” 

He shook his head. 

“Well… Go shower and I’ll start taking a look at some of the animals.” 

“Alright,” he said with a tired tone. 

With a sorrowful smile you sent him off upstairs and then you walked around the house, and noticed a dog bowl. You found a dog in the backyard playing. He looked a little thin so you brought him in, searched for the food, and gave him water and a bowl full of food. You made your way out to the stable and found a horse that had a cut on his leg, probably from barbed wire around the farm. 

After an hour, you were done bandaging the horse’s leg. You decided to go back to the house to see if there were any specific jobs Clint needed you to handle. You didn’t want to miss anything. 

As soon as you got inside, you called up the stairs. “Hey, Clint?” you shouted up the stairs. 

“Yeah?” he called back down.

“What animals did you want me to tend to?”

He made his way down the stairs and met you at the landing. “Uh,” he started, breathing out a heavy sigh, “well Wade’s heifer’s got a wound on her leg. I can take you over there if you’d like. My chickens are losing feathers. The cat has a cold in its eye. I’ve got a horse--”

You held up your hand. “Okay let’s get the cow taken care of first,” you said. “One animal at a time.” 

He nodded and led the way out the screen door to the truck where you two hopped in, drove down the road a minute or two, then pulled down a dirt road. This didn’t appear to be a driveway, but rather an access road farther back on his neighbor’s property. 

After a long drive, he finally parked and jumped out. He went to the barbed wire fence where he opened it enough for you to slide through without ruining your clothes or hurting yourself. You pulled your medical bag through and he showed you the cow. Her leg just had a wound on it. Looked like maybe she scrapped it on a rock in a creek or maybe tripping in some mud. 

He stood by while you calmed the cow, talked to it, put it at ease, then got to work. Often times calling out to Clint for this instrument or that tool. 

The rest of the day, you two went around to all of his animals and fixed them up as best you could. You’d cleaned out your entire veterinary supply closet for this. 

By nightfall, you returned to the house. 

“Care for some dinner?” you asked, heading to the kitchen. 

Clint made a noise, one you weren’t sure if it was approval or rejection of your idea. You went ahead and made some fried chicken and corn for the two of you. Clint picked at his food, not eating, until you said, “Hey, if I’m here to help you, it means you need your strength too. I can’t do this all on my own, so eat up.” 

Only half a second passed before he began to actually eat, making you feel relieved. You didn't like being stern with Clint, you never were. In fact, you were more nurturing than anything else, but right now, he needed tough love. 

You just wondered if you were the person for the job.

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

Forever Tag: 

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[shutupandshipit]

Friends in a Storm - Oneshot

Summary:  At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

.....

Or where Izuku is afraid of storms and Katsuki isn't.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Author’s Note: So, I recently went through the first hurricane of my life. Our good old Cat 2 Hurricane Sally. I'm wasn’t too far from where the eye hit, and we got a fair bit of damage done to us, but nothing too severe. It was really interesting. I don't normally get anxious during storm (I actually really love them, they make me feel alive), but there was a moment when I was anxiously staring out the window and just had the thought, "This would be a lot nicer if I had someone's hand to hold." That feeling is what spurned the birth of this fic.

I hope you guys like it even though it's just a piddly little one-shot. If not, I'll enjoy it enough for all of us.

Katsuki jumped as thunder rolled over the dorms. Immediately following, something slammed into the side, rattling the entire building. The first thought that sprang to mind was that someone wandering around outside had gotten thrown into their dorm, which he dismissed as ridiculous.

Snarling, he stalked to the balcony door, but simply glared at it. He couldn't see through the glass at the moment anyway.

The sky had been dark and threatening to crack apart for days before the wind finally kicked up. It had been more than a decade since Musutafu had gotten hit with a typhoon, not such a strong one at least. The city wasn't really prepared even though they had seen it brewing on the horizon. The city got hit regularly from May to October by tropical depressions and storms, but a Category 2 typhoon? Not so much. Most of their parents hadn't been through such a strong storm before.

Massive flooding and minor building damage had been predicted with possible power and water outages.

That Monday, they'd returned from lunch and immediately been dismissed back to the dorms with a blunt, “If there's something you can't live without for the next three days, get it now. You won't be able to go anywhere by tonight.” Then Aizawa left to go help the other teachers prepare the rest of the buildings and faculty living quarters.

No matter their differences, when class 3-A needed to come together, they did. All together, they fortified the dorm windows and doors with steel plates Yaoyorozu made. Those with more strength based quirks or with strength applications (Katsuki, Izuku, Kirishima, Sato, Shouji, and Tokoyami with Dark Shadow) heaved around the plates in teams of two. Uraraka and Sero worked together to lift the plates to the upper story windows and leverage them in place. Mineta made himself useful by plugging up any possible holes around the plates and helping them stick better. The others with bodies and quirks less suited to manual labor booked it to the store to stock up on water, candles, snacks and food that didn't have to be cooked or only needed hot water. When they returned, everyone created a line to stack sand bags around the first floor just in case they were unlucky enough to get flooded.

By the time they were done, the rain had begun to fall and wind ripped harshly at their clothing. Dorm 3-A had been transformed into a literal fortress. Nothing would be able to knock it down.

Except maybe a Cat 2 typhoon.

Again, something slammed into the dorms, right into the steel plate over his balcony door. Storms didn't make Katsuki nervous normally, but anxiety pooled in his stomach from the simple fact that he couldn't see what was going on outside. And if he was anxious, he knew there was a specific nerd probably pissing himself at the moment.

Huffing, Katsuki stalked to his door. Izuku had never liked storms as a kid, and still didn't like them now. He had walked in on Izuku with a blanket over his head, sobbing as he tried to lose himself in hero videos more times than he cared to remember. And those had been with minor storms. Something like this...

Another crash jolted him into action.

Ripping opening his bedroom door, he stalked through the halls. He wasn't sleeping anyway. He'd originally retired to his room because the rest of the class had insisted on having a storm party in the common room and they were bound to be loud as fuck. He'd been tired, but there was no reason to avoid them when he wouldn't be able to sleep with a stomach full of snakes. Or with the now blooming worry over how Izuku was handling it.

When he got to the common room, he had to take a moment to survey the absolute disaster scene that the space had become. Blankets were strung up from wall to wall, creating forts over the couches and tables. The center of the common room had become a tent city in just a few hours. Candles sat on every available surface, some already lit in anticipation of the power going out, some waiting patiently for their time to burn. Bowls of popcorn and cans of soda littered the area. Multiple rounds of Rummy, Poker and simpler card games were going on all at once. The television fizzed static, a beacon over them all.

Crouching beside Kirishima with a scowl, he cut his eyes over his classmates looking for green curls. There were none. There wasn't even a lump of blankets large enough to plausibly be the nerd.

“Where's Deku?” he growled, and Kirishima jerked towards him in surprise.

“Man, I didn't even realize you were there.” He sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. It took him a moment of steadying breaths to register the question. “Oh, Mido? I don't know. Said he was going to study or something. Right, Mina?” He elbowed Mina to get her attention.

The most annoying game of telephone ensued until, from across the fort, Ochako called, “He said he wasn't feeling well so he went upstairs to rest.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki scoffed and stood again. No one called after him as he walked back towards the stairs -no fucking way he was getting stuck in the elevators if the power went out-.

Izuku had no right to call Katsuki stubborn when his prideful ass couldn't even admit that he was scared to his friends. Not that Katsuki had any room to talk, but Izuku liked to pretend they weren't similar just as much as Katsuki did.

As soon as he stopped in front of Izuku's door, the lights flickered. A quiet whimper sounded in the room, and Katsuki huffed a sigh.

He and Izuku were what some would call friends now. Friends of a sort. Friends that sometimes did intimate things that 'just friends' weren't supposed to do. They still struggled every day with what had been happening between them for years. And they weren't the kind of friends who did the whole touchy feely comfort thing. Their form of comfort was argument, struggle, beating each other to a pulp. Still, Katsuki always found himself at Izuku's door when he knew the nerd was having a hard time, and vice versa. The only difference this time was that he couldn't just drag Izuku to the training fields for a sparring session.

Katsuki knocked lightly on the door so he wouldn't startle Izuku, but he heard a squeak anyway. “Deku, open the door.”

There was a scuffle from inside the room, and slowly, the door cracked for Izuku to peak out at him. Green eyes stared back, bloodshot and red rimmed. Nose just a cherry on his face. “Kacchan?”

“Let me in the room, nerd. You're just going to leave me out here?”

“N-no,” Izuku stammered before stepping back and opening the door enough for Katsuki to slip in. Rubbing at his arms through a hoodie that suspiciously looked like the one Katsuki thought he'd misplaced several weeks ago, he asked, “Do you need something?” He wouldn't lift his head, avoiding Katsuki's eyes as he shuffled back to his nest of a bed. The remnants of a cocoon was crumpled in the middle.

“No.” Katsuki leaned against Izuku's desk, watching as he clambered back onto his bed. “Came to check on you since you weren't downstairs.”

“I'm fine.” Mumbled absolutely unconvincingly under his breath.

“Sure you are, nerd. You're always peachy during a storm.” Overhead, the lights flickered as thunder rolled and the building shook. Off, on, off, on, off, on and off again. This time, they stayed off. A stifled whimper floated across the room towards Katsuki, only making his already clenching stomach clench harder. Rolling his eyes, he pushed away from the desk. “You're such a dirty liar, Deku.”

“Leave me alone, Kacchan,” Izuku sniffled.

Katsuki didn't move, but still said, “Fine. I'll just leave then.”

Thunder rolled. Wind howled. Something crashed against the steel plates outside on Deku's balcony, and then stayed to do it over and over again.

“Wait!” Deku shouted into the blackness around them. “I'm sorry. Don't leave. Please.”

Stepping to the bed, Katsuki sank a knee into the edge and grabbed the hand he could feel outstretched towards him. “I was only joking, dumbass, I'm not actually going anywhere. Chill.”

“How am I supposed to 'chill' when we could die tonight?” Izuku's breath was a rapid staccato of pants, fingers forming fists in the front of Katsuki's shirt. “Did you know that a typhoon is essentially just another name for a hurricane? They all do the same thing and are made the same way, but just develop in a different part of the world. They can dump more than twenty inches of rain. Storm serge can rise up to six feet. Not to mention the wind strength just for a Category 1. A Cat 2 can be upwards of-”

Katsuki gently placed his palm over Izuku's mouth, silencing him. He could see Izuku now, his eyes having adjusted to darkness. He could see the wideness of his eyes, whites more visible than usual and tears spilling over his lashes. An animal terrified. “Izuku,” he said sternly, but soft around the edges, “You're freaking out. You're going to pass out if you don't get your breathing under control. We're going to be fine. The dorms are made of pure concrete with a solid structure, and the typhoon isn't strong enough to even rip the roof off. Do you understand? This is just your fear talking. Are you going to let your fear control you?”

Prying Katsuki's fingers from his mouth, Izuku whispered, “Fear is a good thing. It keeps you alive.”

“Not right now. Fear is good in a battle. On the job as a hero. Right now, it's just driving you up a fucking wall.”

Katsuki equally was and wasn't expecting when Izuku pressed their mouths together. Izuku was breathless before the kiss, and he was only more breathless during the kiss as he tried to suck away Katsuki's breath instead. Their tongues moved slowly against each other, scorching hot and slick.

When Izuku pulled away again, he was still panting, but slower this time.

“What was that for?” Katsuki asked softly, carding his fingers through Izuku's messy curls with one hand and cupping the side of his neck with another. He'd been pulled further onto the bed while they kissed, and Izuku had found a home in his lap. He kissed several stray tears from Izuku's cheeks.

This was the intimate stuff Katsuki was talking about. The kisses. The softness of voices. Hands in hair and hands on skin. Falling into each other over and over again because they didn't know any better. Or maybe they did know better, and just didn't care to heed the warning.

“I needed to stop thinking.” Izuku's eyes were closed, his breathing slowing to something more normal. With legs on either side of Katsuki's waist, he cupped the hand on his neck with his own and leaned his forehead against Katsuki's collarbone. “And the only thing that makes me stop thinking better than fighting you is kissing you.”

“So you're just using me then, nerd?”

Izuku hummed a non-reply, leaning into Katsuki's warm hand.

“Well, that's fine.” Pressing his mouth into the top of Izuku's head, he whispered, “You can use me all you want, as much as you want. Anytime. Any place.”

“Pinky promise?”

“We're not five anymore. I'm not making a shitty pinky promise with you.”

Izuku laughed, and turned his lips back up for another kiss.

They fell into each other just like they always did, letting that all encompassing fire consume them from the inside out. Their classmates didn't understand them which was fine because they didn't understand themselves most of the time. They were the rise and fall of a stormy sea. The hungry flames of a forest fire. The raging winds and cutting rain of a typhoon.

But what people always forgot -and sometimes they forgot too- was that seas always calmed and rain dried up and wind slowed and fires ran out of kindling.

At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

…..

Katsuki hadn't expected them to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, with the typhoon outside and what he would later come to find out was a piece of the gutter slapping against the steel plate. So, he definitely wasn't expecting to wake up to shuffling footsteps and weak candle light and giggling whispers.

With an arm over his eyes, he couldn't tell how many of his and Izuku's dumbass friends were in the room, but he knew it was too many. Just one of them would have been too many.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled lowly.

“Don't be like that, Kacchan,” Kaminari whispered jovially, “We just wanted to come check on you.”

“Well, you've done that. Now get the fuck out. Don't you have something better to do?”

“No, the storm is still going, power is still out and we got bored of games. You and Izuku weren't back, so we figured this would be a good alternative.” Mina's voice was chipper and far too loud for the bundle sleeping on Katsuki's arm.

He moved his arm just barely out of the way to glare at the assembled group; Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Ochako, Iida and lastly Todoroki. Half the fucking class was currently standing in Izuku's room like a bunch of dodos with a death wish.

Suddenly, Katsuki was very aware of his state of undress, and thankful Izuku hadn't hogged all of the sheets like he normally would. “Well, it was a terrible alternative. Find something else to go do before I blast every single one of you out into that storm to get thrown around.”

“Like a roller coaster. Sounds like fun,” Kirishima said, shit-eating grin plastered to his face. When Katsuki groaned, he laughed. Best friend that he was, he turned to herd the others out. “Okay, I think that's enough. Let them sleep or whatever it was they were doing. Who has whiteboard markers? Let's go play tic-tac-toe on the fridge.”

“We will absolutely not-”

Kirishima closed the door, silencing both the bereft groans of their classmates and Iida's reprimand.

Breath fluttered across the side of Katsuki's neck, closer than before, and he startled.

“Thanks for staying with me,” Izuku mumbled into his skin, closing the small distance between them. His eyes were still closed, voice soft with sleep. “You didn't have to. Storms are easier with another person though. I don't think they were meant to be gone through alone. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely not.” Katsuki was lying, and Izuku knew as he huffed out a laugh.

“Can we go on a hike after this is done? The sky is always bluer after a storm.”

A butterfly fluttered against Katsuki's breastbone, just the lightest brush of wings, at his thoughts in Izuku's mouth. He hummed, an agreement to both the question and statement, and pulled Izuku flush against his body.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses-Chapter 10

                 Special thanks to @statell​ for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Ten- Remember Me (NSFW)

We all watched the snow fall, each in our own thoughts. Jamie put his arms around me and said something remarkable.

“We should make haste to build a fire pit for the barn, remember startin yer wee fire for the freezing animals Sassenach?”

I whirled on him with a smile and shook my head yes. “There’s nothing like a snowstorm to be outside. I will use the rest of the light to search for rocks, Glavia will help me if Misses Crook will take Faith.”

My sweet little girl reached her arms up to Misses Crook who would be her slave for the next hour. We all bundled up and went to our task. It wasn’t easy finding the rocks under a layer of snow, but we kept bringing them into the barn and Murtagh would send those back that were too big or too small.

On the next trip back, Jamie was laying on the roof cutting a section out to vent the fire. The string was tied, then he dropped it down into the barn before he gasped and grabbed the side of the hole to keep from sliding off the roof.

“Murtagh, I’ll be needin yer assistance to keep from fallin off the roof. If I let go, I’ll slide straight off.”

It took Murtagh about ten minutes to secure a rope around one of the supporting structures and toss it to Jamie who used it to control his descent on to the ladder. My heart was pounding in my chest and I stood at the ladder until Jamie was on solid ground again. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him, so relieved he wasn’t hurt. His eyes were so blue against the white snow he took my breath away.

The pit was ready and Murtagh called us inside to carry out wood once we warmed up. I put my cheek against Faith’s and made her squeal from the cold. Glavia stayed to help Misses Crook get dinner ready and we went out to finish the pit and light the first fire.

I admired the tight-knit stones that were even and level at the top. Baritone came in hunched over from the cold and asked about the pit. Jamie explained what we had done and told him we still need to find a cover to keep the embers in.

“Why not put a heater in here? It’s safer and warmer I’m sure.”

I smacked my forehead feeling like an idiot. Jamie looked at the column of snow coming through the vent hole and half smiled declaring it one of the drawbacks of the vent. I hustled everyone inside because I was freezing.

I slipped away after dinner to look for a hardware store in Edinburgh. I got there with ten minutes to spare and explained the barn interior to the salesman. As they were locking the store for the day I was paying for the heater and an industrial power cord. I raced back to Lallybroch.

It was dark when I pulled in and I ran around to the back of the jeep to pull the heater out. It was far too heavy, so I spun around running smack into Jamie’s chest. I kissed him and told him not to worry about the firepit, I may have solved the problem. I asked him to pull the heater to the inside of the barn while I ran the power cord to the exterior sockets.

Jamie’s eyes were huge as he felt the radiating heat almost immediately. He checked the heater for stability and safety and was satisfied. He pulled me to him and I could feel his ardor building as we kissed. He pulled me against his erection and I felt ice go through my veins from fear.

“Come Sassenach, I need ye lass.”

I tried to linger in the shower, calming my nerves and bracing for the pain, but Jamie reached in and pulled me out. He could hardly wait for me to brush my teeth and dry my hair. Instead, I was flat on my back feeling him invade my body, made worse from my tense muscles. It was painful and quick leaving me alone and violated once again. It took forever to fall asleep and my sobbing did not disturb the giant Scot. What has changed you so much I wailed in my head.

I saw Jamie’s face loom above me and panicked. I tried to stop it, but Jamie was holding me down, pinning me to the bed. He moved over me and I was thrashing, trying to break free of the oncoming assault. I kept pleading, no, no, no Jamie, please don’t hurt me.

Jamie was startled awake by Claire’s thrashing body, locked in her nightmare. He heard her pleading cries not to hurt her. When she said his name his heart nearly stopped. He reached to shake her awake and heard enough of her begging to know she was terrified of him. He grabbed her and held her close until her shaking stopped. When she was deep in her dreams again, he laid in the dark trying to understand what she was afraid of. He recognized the pattern of pleading like she was trying to hold off an attack on her person. It didn’t take much time to piece together the only scenario. When he had sex with her. To him, it was a woman’s duty, like putting supper on the table, washing clothes, and laboring through childbirth. It was the woman’s role his father told him, and everyone knew that. How could she be so loving to him and so terrified of that?

He didn’t sleep much the rest of the night. He felt protective of the Sassenach but could not see an alternative to meeting his needs. He was torn and tried to remember sex before he was taken. Try as he might, he could not bring a single memory to mind which troubled him further. He wanted to put his arm around her to ease her discomfort but when he did, she jerked away from him and pulled the quilt around her.

Jamie checked on the horses at dawn and the barn was comfortable and warm. He sat on hay bales and continued his deliberation about his fearful wife. Claire bounded in fearing the heater had malfunctioned and was burning the barn down. She was five feet inside before she saw Jamie sitting there in his misery. Their eyes met and she saw all his questions on his pained face. Do ye still love me? Why do ye fear me? How have I hurt ye? He saw her wide eyes struggle to rally and get right with his presence and that broke his heart.

“Ye’ve been pretending to love me Sassenach?”

“What? No of course not. Why do you say such a thing, Jamie?”

“I can see ye puttin yer mask on, hiding some truth from me. I know yer terrified of me because ye dream of this fear and plead with me to stop.”

Jamie’s brutal honesty was disarming. I could not pull it together quickly enough and he would not look away from me. I was caught, as it were, and my heart pounded in my chest. I gave up trying to rescue the ruse of happy, untroubled wife and hung my head still standing in the middle of the barn.

“Come here, lass. Yer my reason for livin and I promise we will find an answer so ye dinna live in fear anymore.”

That sounded so ominous I couldn’t move a muscle until he came to me and walked me back to the hay bale. I tried to breathe and slow my ramming heart, but it wasn’t working, and I fell further into my surrender. This was the exact opposite of what Joe told me he needed but I couldn’t stop it now. I took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Have ye lied about loving me lass?”

“No.”

“Do ye love me less because I was taken?”

“No.”

“Do ye want to live separately?”

“No, no, no Jamie! I love you more than the day we wed, and I was ready to die with you rather than live with the pain. I bartered to die to make the pain stop, wanting to follow you to the next realm, wherever that is.”

“I’m certain of yer love for Faith. You would leave her to Glavia to follow me?”

“My pain would have killed me anyway.”

“Why do you plead with me to stop hurtin ye when ye dream?”

My tears were falling, and I felt myself surrender to telling him the truth. “Do you remember the night I found you in the barn, the first time we made love?”

He struggled with that and I could tell he didn’t remember.

“What about our wedding?”

“A grand affair it was.”

“What did my dress look like?”

He sputtered and moved his hands through the air and finally gave up. “I dinna ken.”

Here we go I thought. “Jamie you suffered terrible injuries at Culloden and untold emotional injuries before and after. You have lost part of your memory because of it. Joe says it will come back if you live in a healing, stress-free environment. I have been trying to provide that.”

“Go on Sassenach.”

“You have forgotten how we used to touch each other and how generous you were when we made love. You have forgotten it would take hours sometimes because you touched me and kissed me everywhere. You used your hands, your mouth, and your body to arouse me and then push my release before finding your own.”

I was sobbing with my truth and clinging to him. The greatest threat from revealing the truth is it would change nothing, meaning Jamie was suddenly heartless, a product of his time when women did not matter during sex. It was hugely important to me and once was to Jamie as well. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with a heartless man so how could I love him now? A cold calm came over me chasing my fear and broken heart away. When I realized that Jamie had the power to restore us or ruin us, I took a breath and waited.

“Ye have mentioned meeting me in a barn, late at night, the first time I touched ye. Would you tell me about that, every minute of that meeting? Please Sassenach.”

I told him the story, burned forever in my mind as a turning point in my life. The night I fell in love. I described every moment, every touch, every truth we whispered to each other and how we made love so sweetly.

His eyes were burning into me when I looked at him and feared I had piqued his arousal with my recounting. He held my hands and told me to relax, he had no intention of throwing me to the floor and pushing into me.

“I know ye were orphaned at five years old, that ye took money from me to help Jenny, that ye left yer life in this time to risk walkin through the stones to be with me. How can I remember all that and not the times I loved ye as ye described?”

“I don’t know Jamie. It sounds ridiculous but loving each other in that manner was our cornerstone. We craved each other, taught each other, and never had enough. Somehow, it was in every look, every touch, every greeting, and farewell. It was like breathing to us. It must have been a crippling memory as you prepared for battle at Culloden. Maybe you put me away in your mind so you could fight, I don’t know.”

“But I remember you from before Culloden and I loved ye dearly Sassenach.”

“Do you remember the intruder that tried to rape Glavia? I hit him…”

“on the head with an iron pan and tied him up!” Jamie looked triumphant.

“After all that we went to wash with new soap.”

“I remember that too Sassenach. I carried ye to the water and rode ye home on my back.”

I encouraged him to remember being in the water with me when my body wouldn’t open for him and later seduced him into a particularly erotic night of sex. The intimate moments when our hearts were open and we could see the other’s soul by looking in their eyes. The most extraordinary joining of two hearts had all been forgotten.

I exhaled and stared at nothing while Jamie sat mute beside me.

“Sassenach, without the events you describe would yer path have taken a different turn?”

“Yes,” was my exhausted whisper. I stood and walked slowly out of the barn and into the house.

Jamie came in eventually and I sat everyone in the living room to watch a documentary about the two queens, Mary of Scots, and Queen Elizabeth of England. It was fascinating and a good starting point to bring them through history.

I tried to relax but felt Jamie’s eyes on me the whole time. I was emotionally exhausted and when the second movie started, I climbed the steps with effort and collapsed on the bed. I slept deeply, rousing slightly when Jamie laid down. I felt myself sinking into peaceful blackness and the relief I would not have to speak to anyone.

Large warm hands wrapped around me and then softly found each button of my shirt and pulled it away. I moaned my complaint, not wanting to wake up and when the warm cocoon came back, I slept.

Jamie was aching to touch her the way she described but too afraid she would storm out of the room leaving him alone. She pushed back when he removed her shirt, so he just cuddled her and fell asleep beside her.

There is a hand running down my leg, coming up the backs, and caressing my butt. It moves up my stomach to cup my breast before I feel a warm mouth with the tongue flicking across my nipple. I heard myself moan and turned toward the hand as Jamie’s mouth came down on mine. His kiss was soft at first but when my arms encircled his neck the kiss became demanding. His hands were on my breast and he went from mouth to breast stirring my passion. I knew I was dreaming and felt no fear from him even when he pulled my jeans off and rolled me onto my stomach.

His warm hand moved down my back and over my butt and then dropped lower between my legs. My heat was throbbing, and I moaned when a finger found my bud and caressed it. The mouth kissed down my back as the finger brought my release.

My eyes shot open as he turned me over, kissing my abdomen and moving lower. When he pushed my legs open, I could feel a hot tear squeeze out the corner of my eye. He was doing everything I told him about and he was the king of men again and I a slave to his pleasure. My back arched as he drove his tongue into me. I pulled on his shoulders begging him to take me. He kissed me deeply as he moved into me with a moan. He made it last until I was pushing on his butt to deepen his strokes. My legs came up at his sides and I told him deeper, faster. He was making my head spin and I felt ready to tear him apart.

“I love ye, Claire, I love ye. Tell me ye love me lass.”

“I love you, Jamie, with all my heart.”

He drove himself into me and stiffened for several seconds. He was panting, telling me he loved me while I kissed his neck and face a dozen times. When he fell next to me, he reached out and pulled me closer.

“Was that more like it Sassenach?”

I could see his hopeful eyes; I smiled nodding my head yes. His moves were different, a bit clumsy, but he was trying and I loved him so much at that moment. I napped in Jamie’s embrace and felt his love like I used to. I hoped this was an end to the torture.

The following day I woke up smiling at the world and couldn’t wait to kiss Jamie and Faith. When I breezed into the kitchen Jamie and Baritone were seated with Faith on Jamie’s lap. I smiled at him and he did a double-take, looking into my eyes, he smiled and blushed. I kissed Misses Crook, I kissed Glavia and Faith, and I kissed Jamie on the mouth. I moved toward Baritone and dropped into my chair.

“Ew, not you.”

Baritone laughed at me and mentioned I get more like the old Claire every day. That brought a cheery laugh from everybody, but it made me wonder, was I so different since I left them two years ago?

Whenever I met Jamie’s eyes, I saw them sparkle. He was exuding that boy charm that made me weak in the knees. After morning chores, we played with Faith until she yawned and rubbed her eyes. I nursed her, knowing I should get serious about weaning her. Jamie was pulling me to him, I could feel it. When I handed a sleeping Faith to Glavia I went to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

Jamie came and leaned against the counter. I asked him about the barn temperature this morning and he said it was fine.

“I need to check the feed and place an order today.”

“I’ll help ye Sassenach.”

We bundled up and he put his arm around me as we walked to the barn. His happiness was unbridled this morning and it made me giggle when he threw me over his shoulder and bounced me to the barn. Once inside he let me slide down the front of his body and I caught my breath when I looked at his face. Our kiss was one for the record books and I panted when I could tear away from his mouth.

“Let’s count the bales, shall we lass?”

I struggled not to fall over when he let me go and cleared my throat hoping to clear my head. I followed him as he counted and then he turned quickly and asked how many that was. My eyes shot to his face, wide-eyed, not understanding what he asked me.

“Hmm?”

“Now Sassenach, this is a team effort so ye must pay attention.”

I heard him counting and then he turned to me again. “How many bales do we have.”

His eyes were extraordinary, and I wanted to fall into them so I never had to look away.

“Hmm?”

“Yer makin this hard on me lass. I want to see ye naked in my arms makin yer wee noises and beggin me to love ye.”

He crushed his mouth to mine and I felt him pick me up. He chose the back stairs to the second floor and lowered me to our bed locked in a sensuous kiss. He laid next to me and pushed the hair off my face and ran his hand from my neck to my ankles.

“Forgive me lass, but can I see what is under yer shirt?”

He held my collar out and tried to see inside my shirt making me quake with laughter.

“That didna work so well.” He unbuttoned the top of my shirt and looked at me. “I might be fine to see with just one more button?”

He was so disarming with his charm and I was feeling my heat as he played with me. I smiled encouragingly and ran my hand down his arm.

“I know ye will give me a peek if I take my shirt off, no one wants to be left out, Aye? Give me two, sweet lass, they are so small.”

He took a peek inside my shirt and got three more buttons open, looking very proud of himself. He moved the fabric away from my breast and sucked my nipple, quickly letting go to caress it. Having just been drained by Faith I didn’t worry about drowning him in breast milk.

He ran his tongue from my collar bone to my ear and watched me pant from his efforts.

“I could do exactly what I did to ye yesterday, or ye could show me other things ye like. It would be a poor lesson if you had all these clothes on.”

I felt him pull my jeans off and lift my upper body to pull my shirt away. I inclined my head toward his jeans and they did a disappearing act. The smile had not left my face and I pushed him back on his pillow and ran my hand down his stomach coming dangerously close to his erection. I could see his chest expanding with each breath.

“Would you like to see what you loved the most?”

“Aye, I would.”

He watched every move I made and when my mouth came down on him, he sucked air and pushed me away as he tried to get some distance from me. “Lass, what are ye doing?”

I laid on his thigh and touched him. “Let me, Jamie. I’ll show you what you loved.”

I moved toward him again and put him in my mouth. When I heard him growl, I released him and was flipped under him in an instant. He looked at me closely, like a starved man and brought his mouth down on my fold. His movements were more experimental today and he was fascinated by my anatomy. He would touch my bud and watch my reaction, smiling confidently that he found the sacred place. He was lost in my body, moving my legs, touching my core, licking my bud until I was losing my mind.

“Jamie, I can’t take it anymore, please come here and love me.”

He watched my face as he pushed carefully into me. Three strokes watching me and he suddenly froze. “Wait, ye havena… ah …ye havena…”

“Not yet sweetheart.” With that, he dropped to my core and licked me until I saw the fourth of July going off behind my eyelids. I moaned his name for what seemed a full minute and my body shook with it.

“Come back to me Sassenach, I need ye and I dinna want to hurt ye.”

I pulled him to me and lifted my legs at his sides pressing his butt, driving him into me. I felt out of control and told him deeper, faster. When he rammed into me with his release, I followed him with another earth-shattering orgasm.

I felt him all around me. Arms, legs, hands pulling me to him, mouth kissing my face and neck. We seemed suspended in time, alone in our world, so close, so utterly happy. He held me and told me he loved me.

“Yer a rare woman Sassenach. If there were more like ye I would have heard of this. Ye love like a man, chasin yer release. I did not know it was possible for a woman…”

I kissed him quiet and cuddled him for a mid-day nap. I smiled thinking I was reliving our earlier lovemaking when Jamie was curious and experimental, so intent on pleasing me, so terrified of the overwhelming pleasure I could give him. I vowed to show him the promised land of oral sex although I might have to handcuff him to the bed so he couldn’t stop me.

We were back in our sacred place where touches throughout the day were a memory and an invitation, and I was so happy. Jamie started leaving with Murtagh, just like they used to. When there was nothing to mend or build at Lallybroch they would often lend a hand to a neighbor working on his fence or building a barn. They would come home for dinner and Jamie would look at me like I was the only woman on earth.

Joe came back to Lallybroch during the holidays and we had four glorious days with him and Baritone. He surprised me one morning with his plan to take the whole group to see an animated Christmas movie and then treats afterward.

“It’s my Christmas present to our visitors and to you and Jamie, four hours alone Pet.”

I kissed his cheek and ran for a bath where I would make a plan to spin Jamie’s head in a house to ourselves.

We waved to everyone piled into the jeep and watched them disappear down the road. My heart was already pounding and I looked at an unsuspecting Jamie, and wanted to purr.

We laid on the couch in front of a roaring fire. Jamie kissed me sweetly and moved me to lay on top of him so he could knead my butt. His hands found their way under my sweater and I was about to lose it, so I pushed up and left the couch. He laid there watching me with hungry eyes.

“Come back Sassenach.”

“If I do, you will probably remove my sweater?” I pulled it over my head and heard Jamie gasp at my lace push-up bra. A treat I acquired tagging along on Baritone’s shopping trip. He stared at my breast pouring out of the lace.

“Come lass.”

“So you can pull off my pants Jamie?” I rocked my hips and pulled my jeans away to reveal a matching thong that was next to nothing.

“Now, lass.”

I got on my knees and unbuttoned his jeans asking him to remove his shirt. When I pulled his jeans and boxers away I almost swooned at his beautiful body taking up the whole couch. His eyes were drilling into mine and he reached for me. I put his hands to the couch and told him to watch me as I licked his balls and held his erection toward my mouth. He stiffened when I put him in my mouth, and it was so erotic I had to struggle to breathe. Jamie was moaning and pushing himself to my throat and suddenly I was lifted off my knees and dropped onto the couch with Jamie inspecting my bra and thong.

“No fair, you are stronger than me.”

“Aye, a good bit stronger lass and I intend to leave the earth with ye today, not by myself.”

He took his time pulling me up to the begging stratosphere. When he pulled my panties and bra off, I thought I might expire from a lack of oxygen because my heart was ramming in my chest. I could see Jamie was struggling by starting something then changing his mind. It almost looked like he was fighting himself and I wondered if my little strip tease got him too hot for control.

“Jamie,” I panted, when I’m like this it’s okay to be forceful, I like that. “I’m going to come the next time you touch me and then you can let it go, and I will like it. Please let it go.”

He pushed me over the edge and sent me careening into the erotic wind. Before I opened my eyes I heard him apologize, he didn’t want to hurt me. I promised, he wouldn’t hurt me and in the next minute the beast was with us, bending me into positions that threatened my sanity as he devoured me. My second orgasm was more than Jamie could handle as he was held tightly by undulating muscles.

“Jesus, lass!”

He held me to him as he pumped himself into me, panting and watching where we joined. I held my arms open for him to drop into. With his head on my chest, I stroked his back and kissed his forehead. He asked if I was alright and I purred, “never better.”

I was preparing dinner when the jeep pulled up and everybody piled out with huge smiles on their faces. Joe saw me through the window, and I smiled my thanks as they all came through the door talking about the miracle they had witnessed. I couldn’t help laughing at the description of multicolored people who were one-hundred feet tall, but nice, and funny. I hugged Joe and Baritone and announced dinner was ready.

Misses Crook dropped into a chair and looked a bit green with beads of sweat on her forehead. She launched herself toward the bathroom and forcefully expelled the four boxes of candy she had eaten. Poor Misses Crook. People in this time learn that painful lesson before the age of ten. It would be harder for her. I put her to bed with a cool cloth for her face and said goodnight.

It was after Hogmanay I noticed Jamie getting restless and looking for things to do during the day. His mood would swing from cheerful to depressed in a matter of minutes and he would go into the barn just to stay away from us. I felt terrible because I couldn’t help him. By the end of February, he was locked in his head most of the day. Alone in our room at night and he would lavish his love on me a brief escape from the depression.

When the house was dark and quiet, Jamie laid on his back, suffering like never before. He was disciplined, he was a warrior, and he laid perfectly still as the images tormented him. He saw his men cut down right in front of him. Their bodies nearly cut in half by a British blade. He saw three men hit by cannonballs flying through the air, already dead from the impact. And then he saw Claire, asking to see him and the hungry look on her face when he was naked. He saw her laying on a bearskin rug and new it was their wedding day.

The images of the battle and making love to Claire were intermingled in some tragic way and he felt a tear slide down the side of his face. He held a young soldier, no more than fifteen or sixteen. He was dying and cried for his mother. He was back on Culloden Moore as that boy slipped away and he lost it. His body shook with his sobs that he tried to quell. It was terrifying. He heard the voice of his superiors taunting him with their place on the list to rape Claire describing how she screamed his name when they dragged her from Lallybroch.

He saw her face in front of him, begging him to love her. A fancy carriage on her knees pushing him deep against her throat, taunting and defying him until he ripped the clothes from her body then gorged himself.

He couldn’t take anymore; it was killing him to remember and he would do anything to make it stop. He started to get up when he felt Claire’s warm hand on his stomach. She looked up at him and asked to be held and warmed up. His heart melted at her innocence and love, so he eased his body down next to her and wrapped her in his arms. Holding her like this he relaxed and sleep mercifully came for him.

Jamie was locked in his torturous head in the morning. He felt a strong urge to get away from everyone, to hide from them. There was enough snow melt for him to wander in the woods for the day, so he got up and dressed. Claire was already up making him feel even more off. When he walked into the kitchen Misses Crook was handing Claire bags of food that she put into the jeep. She kissed Faith and hugged Glavia and Misses Crook before taking Jamie’s hand and leading him outside.

“What is this then,” Jamie almost looked afraid to ask.

“We are going on holiday. We are getting some alone time and might be back tomorrow or maybe the next day. Who knows. Faith is fine with my stored breastmilk and juice in her sippy-cup, so we can relax.”

I handed him a steaming mug full of oatmeal, we buckled up and headed for town. Jamie complained a bit but when I didn’t entertain his complaints he went back to his oatmeal.

“Stay right here, please. This is a surprise.”

I jumped back in the jeep and drove around to the back of the hotel before pulling him inside the room and closing the door.

“I want to hear all about it. No one is around, no one can hear you. I will not leave this room until you have let me into your ravaged mind. Look at this Jamie.”

I pulled my sweater sleeve up high on my arm and flexed the muscles I had been building. He put his warm hand around my bicep and looked so sad.

“If only it were enough to keep me safe from my own head.”

“Your mouth will save you, love. When you share the horrors that are crippling you the healing will begin. I watched you last night, grapple with your thoughts and tears, memories that are too hard to bear. I will hear them all before we leave and I have enough food for a week, just sayin.”

Claire was talking softly telling him everything was fine, they were alright. Jamie put his hand up to cover hers and struggled not to leap off the bed and run to a safe place where he could hide from the dawning memory of his life after he was taken. He grabbed her and held her close to him as he sobbed with the memories flooding into his consciousness.

I held onto him as tightly as I could. Something was happening to him that was locked in his head and scared me to the bone. It broke my heart to hear the gut-wrenching sobs and feel him shake with it. Little by little his shaking stopped, and I kept telling him all was right in our world. He turned the light on low and looked around the room and then at me. I pulled him down to lay his head on my chest while I stroked his hair and scratched his scalp. He was relaxing, slowly, and his breathing returned to normal. I hummed a relaxing melody and held him close. When his grip on my arms let up, I knew he was asleep. I didn’t move for the next hour, standing guard against his nightmares in case they returned.

I felt his heartbeat ramming in his chest. He had not moved or spoken but something was driving his racing heart.

“Tell me what you see, Jamie.”

“Almost home, I was almost to Lallybroch, to you and Faith. I had been runnin for two days, not sleepin. When the bullwhip wound around my legs I fell forward. I was caught and tied to a horse, forced to walk behind or be dragged. I was helpless and exhausted and the worst was yet to come.”

“What was that sweetheart?”

“Forty lashes, double the first time I escaped. They posted men to guard me day and night and my hope of gettin to you had vanished. I worked the lads hard for the next week, they werna ready and I felt my guilt about that.”

“Why guilt?”

“I had no intention to fight and my mind was busy with a plan to escape, not train men for battle. I tried to make up for what I hadna taught them and I prayed for their safety.” He raked his hand through his hair. “That wasna the worst of it,” he whispered, “the captains taunted me with what they would do to ye if I refused to fight.”

Jamie's tears came down and I held him close to me. “They never had me, sweetheart.”

“If I had kent that I coulda won the battle single-handedly, with my relief alone. But it tortured me and on the night before the battle, I saw but one road ahead. To save yer life by fightin as best I could. I put my sweet memory of ye away, locked it away so I could fight and fight I did, for ye Claire.”

“I understand you forced my memory away so you could fight, and save my life.”

“I took several cuts deep into my muscle and watched the blood poor out but it wasna enough to save ye and I kept goin, wonderin if I was dead already and didna ken it yet. My men were cut down like babes before the British blades. If I saved one from an advancing attack another would come to cut the lad in half.”

He wept at the memory of mere children sacrificed for a lunatic prince Charles and his lust for glory. Jamie cried and gripped me to him. He couldn’t speak so I just held onto him. I was horrified at what he went through wondering how he was able to keep breathing until we found him.

The description of his men dying went on through the afternoon. I cried with him at the suffering, fear, and waste of life. He tried so hard to save me by fighting fiercely, to save his men by killing those who were advancing on them, all with multiple wounds that would have finished a lesser man.

By nightfall, he was exhausted. I got as much food into him as possible before he laid down and passed out. I laid next to him and stroked his back lightly so he would know I was there. By midnight I was homicidal wanting the blood of those who would torture a man to such a degree. At one point I jumped out of bed and paced the room, fists clenched at my sides. I was breathing hard visualizing what I would do to those who hurt him like this. Not realizing my own exhaustion, I had worked myself into a murderous rage. When Jamie touched my back, mid-pace, I whirled around with my fist in the air to strike the enemy.

Jamie caught my hand easily and looked at it curiously.

“What did ye have in mind for this, Sassenach?”

“I will kill them Jamie! All of them, as soon as we go back. I will not stop until they are all dead,” I shouted. “I have fancy rocks. I can pop in, slice their throat, and pop out.” My feet were moving toward the door as visions of murder danced in my head.

Jamie was chuckling and picked me up to hold me in his lap. I fought him, willing to gamble everything on my revenge. He said nothing, just waited for me to empty myself of energy and rage. I laid in his lap panting and crying. He pushed the hair off my sweaty face and looked at me with such love it made my heart hurt.

“I must tell ye Sassenach. I fought hard to get back to ye and ye’ll no be popping anywhere away from me. Is that understood lass? I see yer no convinced and still want the blood of my tormentors. Easy lass. They are all dead. Those who survived the battle were shot, or hung, as traitors. I imagine their families also went to the gallows. There is no one to fight, love. Promise me Sassenach, if I let ye go ye stay here with me, forever.”

I heard my own gasp realizing how crazy I sounded. I could feel my chin quivering as my resolve to hurt and maim faded. When Jamie let me go, I scrambled up and pressed into him holding him fiercely and sobbing. I couldn’t get close enough to him but felt his hands stroke up and down my back as his beautiful Gaelic filled my ears.

He dropped to the bed and pulled me away so he could look at my face. He spoke slowly while pushing my hair behind my ear.

“I feel lighter lass. Empty of my thoughts of the battle. Ye did this for me and I am grateful. I hope I can learn to live with the memories, and they won’t choke the life out of me. I need to forgive myself and move on.”

Jamie kissed my face over and over as I gripped his arms. It had been seven or eight hours of horrific memories pulled out and described in bloody detail. He looked different somehow or maybe it was my fatigue.

“Yer dress was black velvet with pure white lace underneath. It was flared from yer wee circles of wood tied to ye. Yer hair was up at yer temples with two or three big curls down yer back and wee curls around yer face. Ye were breathtakin Claire. When I came to the house ye laid on a bearskin given by Letisha. Yer dress was off and ye wore a shiny corset and magic stockins. I felt like the luckiest lad in Scotland at that moment and when I loved ye, yers was the sweetest surrender.”

He remembered our wedding! I was so happy and dared to hope the rest of our lives came back to him. Our intimate lives.

“I have a vivid memory of a fancy carriage rolling through the crowded streets of Paris and the most beautiful lass on her knees in front of me. And holding ye close, slowly pushing deep into yer body while ye gasp. So much love between us, physical and emotional and I remember it all Sassenach.”

I pushed back on my tears, so sick of crying all the time. I thought about how much we had overcome. The pain, the wounds, the fear, and death itself. Our future might be unknown, but now I knew we would live it together, like the warriors we were.

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

/firstly thank you for mandreil content it's precious/ So Matt strike me more as a dog person, how's he doing with Andrew's and Neil's cats?

AAAA! Thank you! Of course, my Mandreil content would be nothing without you guys. I seriously thought this would flop and I'd just be sitting around screaming into the void but no! You guys have been so great. It's so validating to know I'm not the only one who sees their potential and I love getting asks bc they give me so many new ideas and help me flesh their relationship out. Thank you all so much for supporting me :')

And now my kinda long answer to this prompt!

"Why do you even need this? Your apartment is a mess anyway." Matt grunted, struggling with his half of the file cabinet. When no answer came, Matt assumed Wymack was having his own fair share of trouble. Would it have been wiser to empty the cabinet out before they'd brought it up seven flights of stairs? Yes but that meant making several trips back and forth to lug the contents up and neither of them were willing to do that. It has also taken climbing three flights of stairs before the thought had even occurred to them and neither was ready to admit it. 

"Useless fucking elevator," Wymack gasped between breaths. To be fair, it was the first time in a long time that the elevator had been out. For the most part, the staff kept a good eye on things. They had contingency plans for almost every imaginable situation. Almost. It wasn't really their fault that they hadn't anticipated a kid setting several parrots loose in the shaft. From down the hall, Matt could hear the distressed cries of the poor birds. He hoped Animal Control would get them out soon. 

Making it up the final flight, they dropped the cabinet to catch their breaths. Matt’s fingers had gone numb from the pain of being wrapped around the sharp metal edges. If he was in such bad shape right now, then how was Wymack holding up? Casting a glance at him, Matt saw the sweat that had beaded up along his brow. His dark skin was flushed red from exertion too. 

“Almost there, Coach. We can do it.” Wymack grunted noncommittally but got to his feet. “Three, two, up!” They hefted the cabinet up and shuffled their way along the corridor towards Wymack’s apartment. A sliver of light escaped the already open door. Quiet voices drifted out from within. 

“Looks like your monsters are here. Little fucker better not have taken my good whiskey,” Wymack grumbled. Just the thought of Andrew and Neil waiting for him was enough to give Matt the strength to make it through the end. Shoving the door wide open, they brought the cabinet into the apartment. As soon as they’d dropped it, Matt turned his attention to the boys curled up on the couch. There was a lump beneath Andrew’s shirt. 

“What is that?” he asked. The two of them shared a look as Neil brought a hand to rest on Andrew’s stomach.  

“Our baby?” Neil offered, sheepishly. 

For a solid thirty seconds, Matt believed him. He wasn’t ready to be a father! Of course, that decision wasn’t his to make. If Andrew wanted to keep the child then that was entirely his prerogative and Matt would support him no matter what. Only a few weeks ago, Matt had signed with the Virginia Black Bears. There was no way he could ask Andrew to move to Virginia with him. Was it too late to beg the South Carolina Blue Jays for a place on their team?

“Cut the crap, Minyard. I know there’s a dick in your pants and I’m not just referring to Boyd and Josten’s,” Wymack snapped. “There’s no way in Hell you’re pregnant.” 

“Who said I was?” he countered easily. “That doesn’t mean I’m not having a baby.” Right at that moment, the lump moved. Matt screamed when he saw the little pink nose poking out from the hem of Andrew’s shirt. Andrew finally moved then, pulling out the scrawniest little kitten Matt had ever seen. 

“Andy, what the fuck?” Matt whispered, crossing the room. He knelt down in front of them and watched as the tiny thing clawed their way down Andrew’s thighs and into Neil’s lap. 

“We found her outside,” Neil said, smiling down at her. “She’s too little to be all by herself. Can we keep her, Matty?” The eager look on his face was too much for him to take. 

“Okay.” Neil caught Matt by the collar of his shirt and kissed him hard. It wasn’t a very good kiss seeing as Neil was smiling too hard but Matt didn’t really mind. Turning to look at Andrew, Matt saw the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“If you get caught, I’m not defending any of you,” Wymack told them tersely as they stood. “Now get out.” 

“What about the cabinet?” 

“Go take care of your kid,” Wymack said, ushering the lot of them towards the door. Matt smiled wide at that. He followed Neil and Andrew down the stairs and out to the Maserati. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Matt asked, settling into the back seat.  

“Queenie,” Andrew said, taking the tiny kitten from Neil’s arms. He set her in Matt’s lap before shutting the door. 

“Wait, you want me to hold her?”

“She’s your daughter too,” Neil said from the front seat. “Relax, Matt. You’re going to be a great dad.” Matt really hoped so.

He’s an amazing dad!.

Queenie is too young to be without a mom so the three of them have to take turns bottle-feeding their her and end up recruiting the help of the rest of the Monsters so that she doesn’t have to be by herself for more than an hour

They take her to the vet only to find out that she’s a boy. The name sticks anyway

Queenie is an absolute piece of shit. He will look you in the eye as he knocks things off the counter bc fuck you

When he does both Neil and Matt will yell at Andrew for being a bad influence on their son. 

Andrew will knock things off the counter in retaliation for their scoldings

Everyone on their floor knows about Queenie and adore him. People will swing by with treats and toys for the baby boi. He’s such a spoiled little shit. 

Matt graduates a little over a month after Queenie becomes a part of their lives. He has another month before he has to start playing for his new team so he spends summer in Columbia with the boys and their son. 

Andrew and Neil make Matt take Queenie when he moves.

They call Matt every few days and video chat with their son once a week. 

Now that Matt lives in Richmond, he’s incredibly lonely. He’s like 6 hours away from Andrew and Neil and 12 hours from Dan. Having Queenie makes him feel a lot better.

When Dan finally moves in, Matt does end up getting dogs and he does not play favorites

That was a lie

Matt plays favorites all the time 

Queenie is his favorite and he always will be 

When Andrew and Neil get King and Sir, Matt feels a bit betrayed now that they have kids without him. It doesn’t last long tho. He and Dan have dogs which are technically kids he had without Andy and Neil. 

Every time he goes to visit the boys, Matt brings Queenie along too. 

When Andrew and Neil come to visit, they bring Sir and King to meet the dogs. They all get along surprisingly well. 

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

The Fast and Furious: Stripe Drift || Jane and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s apartment and then some fun travel PARTIES: @jane-the-zombie and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: FOLLOW THAT MIME! CONTENT WARNING: Reckless driving (motorcycle)

Kaden was running out of sick leave, but he couldn’t possibly go to the station or the shelter covered in black and white stripes. The field would be just as bad. But somehow work had to get done. He could do desk duty from home, right? Only, uh, well, he needed his files. Or anything. There was no way in hell he was calling Gary. He already felt like shit, the last thing he needed in his life was Gary. He sure as shit wasn’t calling Stryder and he had a feeling Sarge was going to have more questions than was worth his time. Which left Wu. He just had to figure out how to get the files without her seeing him. At all. Not even a little. He asked her to leave them at the door. So why was his phone ringing? “Hello? Wu? Are you bringing the files? You can just leave them at the doorstep. I’m very sick, super contagious. Really best if you just drop them off.” he said, adding in a few coughs for extra effect.

“I’m outside, Paw Patrol,” Jane replied, leaning against her bike, files tucked under her arm. Last thing she expected to do today was pick up desk duty for animal control. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Those coughs sounded as real as could be, and she didn’t really feel like walking all the way up to Kaden’s apartment building. “Come on Langley, come and get’em, I don’t really give a shit if you give me cooties or whatever?” If she didn’t know any better, Jane would have accused him of playing hooky. And if she didn’t know that Kavanagh would rather cheerfully throw herself out a second story window rather than miss work, she’d tease him about wanting to spend more time with his girlfriend by pretending to be sick.

“Outside?” Kaden said, his heart dropping to his stomach. He couldn’t have her see him like this. Leaving the apartment hadn’t gone well before, but at least he hadn’t run into anyone he knew. This, Wu? She’d never let him live it down. “Can’t you just stop being an asshole and drop them off? I’m not feeling w--” A chill ran down his spine. The one that meant a werewolf was nearby. Or maybe… “Hold on.” He grabbed his scarf, gloves, and jacket despite the heat, trying to cover up what he could, and peeked out of the door. There was a scuttle, a familiar inhuman movement. A small creature on all fours. The mime that had emerged from the cookies. It was at least ten inches tall now. And it was booking it. “Putain!” He reached inside to grab a knife, but when he looked back, the creature was gone. “Get back here!” he yelled, forgetting the phone was still in hand as he ran down the stairs to try and find the thing. He saw it stretch and morph, pulling itself through the underside of the door. Fast. Far too fast. He ran after it, watching it crawl past Wu and her motorcycle. “Not this time, connard! Not this fucking time!”

Jane was about to mock Kaden for being a big baby when something distracted him… And then he was yelling. “Langley? Langley!” She snapped into the phone, and started striding right to the front door, only for a cat to slip out, followed by Kaden. A striped Kaden. She hung up the phone. “Are you striped?!” Jane asked in amused disbelief, except then she got a good look at what she originally called a cat. “What is that! What is that! Argh!” This was the bad place. The thing stretched and skittered across the pavement way too quickly for it to ever be possible. “WHat the hell is that!” It seemed to grow just a bit bigger, it’s black and white body a stark contrast against the pavement. Jane was moving after it before she even realized what happened, and next thing she knew she was at her bike, chucking the helmet she didn’t wear at Kaden. “Hop on, let’s go.”

Oh fuck, Kaden almost forgot he was striped and covered in the stupid face paint. Almost. Either way, Wu sure reminded him. “Maybe. It’s not by choice, alright! We gotta follow that--” Before he could finish his sentence, he found himself catching a helmet. A helmet? For what? He looked down at it, then back up at her. And her motorcycle. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Wu. There’s no way I’m getting on that thing with y--” Out of the corner of his eye, Kaden saw the creature scurrying away, further and further, about to be just out of vision. A string of French curse words flew out of his mouth as he shoved the stupid fucking helmet on his head and climbed onto the stupid fucking bike behind Wu. “You better drive saAAAAAAAAFE,” he screamed as she took off speeding, his arms barely locked around her before she started.

“You said the same thing about the rollercoaster!” Jane laughed - yes, laughed. She wanted to figure out what that thing was, despite everything. She just barely waited for Kaden to grab onto her before she revved the bikes engine and was off like a shot. The damn thing only seemed to go faster and faster and faster. Jane was known for speeding - in fact, she frequently pushed the bike up to 90-100 miles per hour at night with no helmet on. She caught up easily, gaining on the stupid little mime thing. “What is that!” Jane didn’t know if he could hear her scream over the sound of the bike, the adrenaline and - oh crap, was he screaming too? - Jane wove around a large pickup truck, hardly paying attention as the driver laid on the horn. Come on, come on, come on! And then they took a sharp turn down another large stretch of road. “Will this thing ever stop running?!”

Kaden felt his stomach rolling and reeling as the motorcycle darted through traffic. Putain de fucking merde, was that a truck? That truck almost cut them off. He was going to die. This is how he died. Not by werewolf, mime, or even by banshee, but a fucking motorcycle driven by an almost zombie adrenaline junkie cop. “Slow down, what the fuck! THAT’S A CAR, THAT’S A-- STOP!” he shouted while she clearly ignored him and sped around with no cares in the world. Meanwhile, he was pretty sure he was one fucking swerve away from a heart attack. “And where the fuck is your helMEEETTT.” The sharp angle of the turn nearly sent him spilling off the edge and his arms wrapped around her tighter. He was likely using entirely too much hunter strength but right now he didn’t give a fuck if he bruised one of her ribs or two, he wanted to live. “I don’t fucking know but try not to kill us!”

“My helmet’s on your head!” Jane called back. But it wasn’t like she wore it anyway. She really only carried it around because Marley bought it for it and gave her a look every time she saw her not wearing the damn thing. The only reason she slowed down a little was because Kaden had a death grip on her torso. “Ow - ow - ow! Can you stop! Loosen up!” This wasn’t at all like when she rode with Marley. Except she didn’t have time to think about the pain in her ribs because the fucking mime thing burst off the road and into the field. And, automatically, Jane followed. She surged the bike off the road and down onto the dirt bellow, careening after the fucking thing like it was some really fast rabid dog. “Hold on tight! We’re off roading!”

“I loosen up when you slow the fuck down!” Kaden screamed in her ear. It surely didn’t hurt as much as any time Regan screamed ever, but he hoped it hurt a fucking little after the sheer amount of fucking panic he was experiencing. “We’re what?” Kaden asked as his eyes went wide. Was she really turning onto the dirt. Off the road? Off the-- They were going off of the road. Away from the road. “No,” was all he said at first. And then the ride got bumpier and it was clear she wasn’t turning around. “No, no, no. Wu, no. WU, NO!” All Kaden could do was scream more as they flew through the dirt and grass, his voice breaking up and bouncing with every jostle of the motorcycle. At this point, he was almost okay with letting the fucking thing live. It was fine. He could be a mime forever so long as he never had to do this again.

Dirt, grass, and small rocks kicked off behind them as she sped through the field abd after the mime fiend. Jane watched in some horror as the mime stopped, stood upright…. And then melted into what looked like a black sticky substance. “Uh-oh.” Jane was going too fast to stop, and next thing she knew, they were flying through the sauce on the bike. The bike slid, and for 10 solid seconds, Jane was certain they were going to crash. At least Kaden’s wearing the helmet. But Jane steadied them, swinging the bike around as dirt and mud sprayed back behind them before forcing the bike to jerk to a stop. Jane cut the engine just as she spotted the black, sticky sauce moving across the ground, before disappearing down into a nearby drain. Jane pressed her lips together in a thin line, before wincing. Her ribs? Bruised. But maybe she deserved it. Her thoughts sobered a little when Daniel’s voice echoed in her head -- you’re out of control, Wu. She looked behind her, a little guiltily. “How you doing, Paw Patrol?”

Kaden was pretty sure his screams reached a new decibel as the bike spun out of control. It was nearly impossible to remember that he had to be conscious not to break Wu’s ribs as he clung onto her. It slowed and he thought it might have stopped, but he couldn’t tell because his world was still spinning. Was he seeing this right? Did the mime monster turn to ooze? And, yaah, pretty sure it slithered away. “What the fuck?” he said at the sight of the sauce disappearing into the drain. Then he remembered. They were stopped. He let go of Wu, scrambled off the bike as quickly as possible and considered heaving right then and there. “What the fuck, Wu?!” she said back to her, shouting once again. “Were you trying to get us killed?! Do you normally do this?! Why?! WHY?! I know you’re going to bounce the fuck back but I’m not! And why aren’t you wearing a helmet, if your head gets damaged you won’t come back at all! If you end up as a fucking pancake on the side of the road, no amount of zombie anything is going to let you live!” Kaden screamed again and turned to let a new slew of curse words in multiple languages fly while he tried to get his pulse back down to a respectable fucking level.

Jane winced as Kaden started screaming at her, talking about pancakes and zombies and helmets as well as a multitude of colorful things in multiple languages that she only half-understood. Crap. “Hey, hey! You said follow the mime!” Jane said, hands raised in slight defense. Of course, he was right, but she wasn’t about to easily admit that. “I only own one helmet, I thought it would be better for you to wear it instead of me.” Jane prodded at her ribs, wincing again, before glancing back at him. “Sorry, though. I would have gone myself if I knew you weren’t going to like it. I do normally drive like that - hey.” Jane squinted, leaning forward. Something was off about his face - wait. Wait. “The stripes are gone. Off your face.” She leaned against the seat of her bike, pointing. “You’re clean.”

“I know what I said but I didn’t think you would drive like th-- Wait, what?” Kaden looked down and took the gloves off his hands. His hands. That were flesh colored. And not striped. No black, no white. Pink fleshy skin tone and blue veins. He squished it a bit to make sure. He pulled up his sleeves to check and still, no sign of stripes. “I’m clean? Putain, I’m clean! No more stripes. What about my face? Is my face okay, too?” He pulled out his phone and fumbled with the screen until he opened the front facing camera. There was his face. No paint. No dumb black triangles or silly eyebrows painted on. “The screaming worked, holy shit!” Regan was right! Again! Somehow! He ran over to Wu and picked her up into a hug. “No more stripes!” he said, beaming. And recalling pretty quickly that he bruised her ribs. And that she was his colleague. “Right, sorry. Just excited,” he said as he quickly put her down. “It didn’t go away for a few days, so yeah. Uh, ride back? Slower? Much, much slower.”

“Your face is fine too - oh.” Jane watched in amusement as he pulled out his phone to look at his face. “The screaming? What do you me - Whoa!” And Kaden has seized her, picking her up in a big hug that hurt her ribs. Laughing loudly, Jane shook her head. “Hey! Ow! Put me down!” But her words mixed with laughter as he seemed to sheepishly put her down. She snorted. “No kidding, huh? I guess what they say about Hunters having a killer grip is true.” She poked at her ribs again, feeling the pain shoot through them. Ouch. That was going to hurt for a bit. Well, she certainly had worse. Jane grinned at him when said she could drive back, bending to pick up the helmet off the ground and held it out to him. “Don't worry, I promise I'll only speed a little.”

[rainbowserenity]

uhhh so this is @comeonlight and @lightning4ever‘s faults 8))) I didn’t expect to write anything else this year due to massive amounts of stress, but....this happened. it’s silly but also kind of nsfw?? idk but HAPPY HOLIDAYS, here is some OTP ridiculousness and here’s to hopefully more in 2020! I love you guys, thank you all for the support you’ve given me and keep giving me <3333333333

--

The thing about having game night at Fang and Vanille’s place was that the size of the place was immediately obvious when they all gathered. It was fine for two of them, but nine people? It was a wonder the floor didn’t cave in.

They all usually got around this by having Snow sit on the floor, while everyone else crammed onto the loveseat and couch. Sure, there were extra chairs, but they were at an awkward height for the coffee table - not to mention that Fang and Vanille had an ever-changing roster of foster animals that like to use the chairs as beds.

So whenever game night happened at Fang and Vanille’s place, Lightning swallowed her pride and would do something she never thought she would ever do:

She sat on Hope’s lap.

It worked out, for the most part. After all, they were a couple, and stuff like this wasn’t out of the ordinary. It just....well, had a massive PDA vibe to it, and Lightning wasn’t one for that kind of stuff.

But these were their friends and it was better than sitting on the floor. The others teased them for a bit, but after the first few times, Lightning started looking more and more forward to those nights they’d drink and play cards at Fang and Vanille’s, because she’d have a dumb excuse to stay close to Hope without it being weird and obvious.

Sappy? Yeah. But Hope seemed to love those nights as well. She got used to having his arm slide around her waist, or his chin on her shoulder. It was comforting.

"Comfy?”

Lightning nodded. “Are you?”

He grinned. “Always.”

They were two hours into a card game and they were all relaxed and happy (and in Sazh and Fang’s cases, pleasantly buzzed). Lightning had even found herself huffing with laughter at one of Snow’s stupid jokes, which was quite a feat.

However, at one point, she was aware that there was something growing a bit uncomfortable. She kept moving around on Hope’s lap, struggling to find the best way to sit without making his legs go numb.

It wasn’t until she heard Hope suck in a quiet breath that she realized what was happening.

Oh.

Oh.

Lightning turned to face him a bit. Hope was gripping the back of the couch like a lifeline. She could tell that he was calling on every possible ounce of concentration to keep a neutral expression on his face, but there was no hiding the fire in his eyes when their gazes met.

She glanced away and swallowed heavily, struggling to keep her own expression level. It didn’t help when Fang took once look at them and started snickering, though luckily everybody ignored her.

There were, of course, a bunch of ways this could turn out:

One, they would ignore this like adults and keep hanging out with their friends. A plausible option, Lightning thought, although she had a feeling Hope would vehemently disagree.

Two, they could duck out early and leave, knowing Fang would probably laugh and spill the beans, but who cared? Maybe Hope had a teenage fantasy of having a quickie in the car. Lightning never had, but then again, she never thought she’d be in any sort of romantic relationship, so anything was possible.

Three - and this was by far the worst option - they could be totally obvious and sneak off into the bathroom. Or maybe Hope could sneak off in there alone, although his slack were very loose and comfortable and left pretty much nothing to the imagination.

Lightning was trying to think of a fourth option where she just sat here all night until Hope, uh, calmed down, when Fang suddenly got up from her spot on the couch.

“Yo, Sunshine! C’mon, you and me and Serah should go for a beer run, yeah? We’ve gotta restock, anyway.”

“Uh.” Lightning stared at her, knowing exactly what she was doing. However, the not-so-little predicament under Lightning’s lap was having an extremely curious effect of turning her mind to mush. If they hadn’t been surrounded by their friends, there was no doubt in her mind that she’d been moving her hips juuuust right...

“Store’s just around the corner. We’ll be back in plenty of time.” Fang smirked.

Everyone else was staring at them now. Clearly Noel and Serah had figured out what was going on, because Noel looked extremely awkward and Serah seemed about to burst with giggles. It was only a matter of time before the others caught on.

Would Lightning let herself be embarrassed this way? Hell no!

“Sounds good. I could use the walk,” she replied.

Then, in a move only befitting of a former solider, she swiftly stood - ignoring the quiet noise of protest Hope made - and slammed a pillow in his lap in the span of about half a second. Obvious, yeah, but if no one saw anything....

Fang’s shoulders shook. Now even Sazh was trying not to laugh. Maybe the pillow really had been too obvious.

Hope cleared his throat, sitting up a bit and hugging the pillow to himself. “We’ll just hold down the fort here. No big deal.”

Now Fang barked out a laugh. “You should come too, Hope.”

Bad, bad, baaaad choice of words, Lightning thought. She was about to retort when Hope suddenly stood, still holding the pillow casually at waist-level, if one could even do such a thing causally. “I, um - I need to use the restroom.”

“You need the pillow for that?”

For some reason, that was what made Hope finally blush. “I need it for....back support.”

The Goddess had no mercy on them, because Snow joined in the conversation. “Is that what they’re calling it?” He snickered. “I thought Light was you ‘back support’.” He made air quotes, like anyone could possibly not understand.

“Yeah.” Fang laughed again. “You gonna leave her hanging?”

There was a pause where things were nearly quiet - or would have been, without everybody snickering or trying not to laugh.

Then, to Lightning’s absolute shock, Hope suddenly grabbed her hand and yanked her across the room, shoving them both into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door behind them.

The catcalls and whoops were just barely muffled by the closed door. Lightning knew she probably should have been embarrassed and annoyed and whatnot, but Hope was staring at her with that fire in his eyes and that was all she cared to focus on.

“Hope - ”

“I can handle you sitting on my lap, Light. I’m not some kid who can’t control himself.” He leaned in close and caged her between his arms, her back against the wall. Her traitorous hands went to his waist, skimming the waistband of his pants, to which he leaned in and let out a low groan next to her ear. The noise shot heat between her legs so quickly that she lost her breath for a second. “But for some reason, tonight...I just couldn’t focus on anything but you. And then you kept moving and all I wanted to do was bring you home and keep us in bed for the next week.”

Even before they’d started their relationship, Lightning had been very aware that Hope was an adult. She did occasionally have fleeting thoughts of when he was a shy but determined teenager who knew nothing about the world, and those thoughts were always met fondly.

It was times like now, however, that she was very aware that he was very much an adult....and she was very much attracted to him.

“You still could,” she replied in a low, breathless voice. Her hands were trembling to unbutton his pants. “They’ll already know what we’re doing in here.”

Hope flicked his tongue against her ear and she moaned, trying to keep it down. The sound apparently made something in Hope snap and he grabbed her legs, lifting them up so she could hook them around his waist. She let out a sharp gasp, their heads instinctively turning to seek each other’s mouths in a desperate kiss.

“I can’t wait another second,” he growled against her lips, and there was something about him manhandling her that just left her gone. They shoved aside just enough of their clothes and it was all she could do just to hold on, not caring about the muffled sound of their friends right outside the door. All it did was remind her to try and stay quiet.

“Later,” Hope murmured against her ear, gripping her thighs tightly like that was the only thing keeping him upright. “Later, when we get home, I’m gonna drag you to bed and do things with you so that you can’t help but scream.” He moaned, not doing as well to hide the noise as she was....not that she was being all that quiet. “Do you want that, Light?”

“Yes,” she gasped, one of her hands gripping his hair. Her fingers twisted in the strands and her head fell back, knocking against the wall, but it felt like nothing compared to what he was doing to her. “Yes, please - !”

They needed to keep kissing in order to stay quiet, but it was impossible when her breath was continuously taken away. It was ridiculous - they were in a tiny bathroom, their friends were right on the other side of the door, and they were both in for the most embarrassing moment of their lives when they came out.

But god was it worth it.

When they’d finally come down from the high and she was able to stand without her legs feeling like jelly, they rearranged their clothes and Hope fixed his hair somewhat. The bathroom door creeeeeeeaked open.

Seven pairs of eyes instantly swiveled towards them.

Hope cleared his throat. “I, uh - ” Cough. “I have an extremely complicated series of buckles on this pair of pants. It requires three hands and a lot of effort.” Lightning thought of how easily she’d undone the zipper and wisely said nothing.

“Sure.” It was Fang who replied after an incredulous pause. “And I’m bettin’ those buckles were very entertaining.”

Serah was the first one to start cracking up. It wasn’t long before everyone - even Hope and Light - followed. Sure, she was embarrassed and they would never hear the end of it. Maybe she’d regret letting hormones, of all the crazy things, get the best of her.

But that repeat performance she’d been promised?

Worth it.

[justanotherloveaffair]

Somewhere Secret (T’Challa x Reader)

Word Count: 2,677

Warnings: Smut, remote controlled vibrator, public sex, NSFW

Tell me when it’s in.

You grunted, pushing the smooth round toy into its tight new home, where a pleasant pressure made you shiver as your fingers withdrew from your panties to send a response back to T’Challa.

It’s in.

Your sharp gasp carried through the small office as Bast knows how many volts of vibranium-charged energy turned your pussy into ground zero of a catastrophic earthquake, sending shockwaves out to each extremity. It ended almost as soon as it began, leaving you breathless, with one hand on the desk to prop up your weight.

Once stable, you let out a short laugh.

T’Challa could be such an asshole sometimes.

Your heartbeat sounds like a herd of elephants. Did it work? Are you okay?

In the interest of anticipating a future emergency, like an attack on the Queen’s life, the King’s genius sister Shuri had figured out how to tweak your bracelet to download your diagnostics real-time into T’Challa’s.

It wasn’t too long after that the idea for this little sex game was born.

Your legs were still shivering a little, almost a queasiness in your stomach as you mentally evaluated your day full of meetings. The world’s most powerful bullet vibrator was in your pussy and the remote control was in the hands of a man who could be ruthless.

It worked. Go easy on me, Kumkani. Please.

You sent the message and involuntarily clenched, expecting a playful retaliation that never came. 

Your hand rested against the door while you counted to five, using each second to mentally center yourself before rejoining the Dora Milaje dutifully awaiting you in the hall. 

~ ~ ~

Not once during your morning and afternoon of polite visits did you forget that a horny King had control of your pussy. And not once did he use it.

It was almost worse that he didn’t. You nearly hoped for it, the way people living in a seismically active region hope for little earthquakes to avoid The Big One. Every hour he didn’t use it, the desire to was building, under the surface. You knew it, just like you knew he was paying attention right now, tuned in to his favorite radio frequency. You.

You were distracted all morning. All it took was an innocent shift of the body to rediscover the invading shape inside. As you went from meeting to meeting, you constantly imagined what would happen if he flipped that switch. You thought about it as you outstretched your hands to receive a plate of food at your lunch meeting. You thought about it as you discussed the health of the economy with the merchant tribe leader. You thought about it whenever you entered a new room, immediately looking for wherever you could make a hasty exit, should you need.  

Just before 2:00, your guards were accompanying you down a sun-drenched hallway towards your next meeting when the sight of T’Challa turning the corner with Okoye gave you an unexpected shock. 

Your steps faltered at the sight of his intense eyes, lit up with pleasure at having caught you off guard. 

While he closed the distance, you felt the presence of his soulful brown orbs sliding all up and down your body, with the slightest smirk on his face.

Your enthusiasm to see him bubbled out of you in a string of words, as your animated hands moved about. “My King! What are you doing here? I’m supposed to meet Tayo about the exhibition.” 

You and Tayo, the royal art collector, were about to finalize the details on a grand exhibition in a few weeks.

A business-like tone met you, but the warmth in his eyes was intimate, and the amused smirk made your stomach start to twist. 

“The schedule has changed, Tayo had to suddenly cancel. Will you join me for a walk, my Queen?”

A walk? What was he planning?

“Uh… yes. Sure.”

After dismissing your guards, you accepted his arm with a dubious glance his way, one he didn’t reciprocate as he was too busy looking proud as a panther who just caught his prey. 

As you began to stroll, you had to slow your usual walking pace to match with his more deliberate one. The two of you were constantly bumping into each other’s side, sometimes by accident but mostly on purpose. You gathered he was taking out outside and sure enough, you emerged from the cool palace into the punishing afternoon heat. 

“T’Challa,” you stated, finally sick of being led around with no explanation, “are we walking somewhere in particular?”

Nobody had mastered the expression of playful secrecy quite like T’Challa could. His eyebrows lifted in a wouldn’t you like to know twitch and his shapely lips pursed together with a restrained smile, but he did not answer your question.

You returned to walking together, this time with the frenetic sounds of the city surrounding you instead of the echoing corridors of the palace. It was a gorgeous day and Wakanda’s citizens was clearly enjoying it, based on the smiling faces you noticed everywhere. They were, of course, also smiling at the sight of their King and Queen, arm-in-arm, taking in the city just like everyone else. 

The visit to the city seemed perfectly mundane until a shocking vibration of unimaginable levels struck your insides. 

Your fingers gripped the solid muscle of T’Challa’s upper arm and you let out a squeal, loud enough to startle the Dora Milaje at your sides. 

“My love,” T’Challa’s honey soft voice called out to you as he examined you with mock concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

Meanwhile, the vibrations were still going. 

“Uh... I feel a little.. uh...”

As you spoke, you noticed his fingers partially hidden by the cuff of his wrist, lightly twisting a Kimoyo bead. As he did, what felt like a couple thousand volts of energy shot up to a million. 

The four of you had stopped right in the middle of a busy alley, where crowds were clustered around food stands. Knowing how public the area was, you clenched your teeth and resumed walking, even while the juices of your arousal began to make your thighs slick, originating from the throbbing heartbeat in your pussy. 

T’Challa never let up on you. He raised the vibrations, then lowered them, made them disappear entirely only to reintroduce them in full. 

His tinkering with your pleasure senses made you ache, and your heart beat faster. The colors around you were vivid and bright, your eyes picking out banana yellow, forest green, bright orange in textiles and clothes. You felt the fabric around your legs gather and caress your skin as the relaxing breeze made it swirl. Rich scents of spices and smoking, sizzling meat made your taste buds salivate.

Your every neuron was wide open to receive the sensations around you, and no sensation was more intense than your desire for T’Challa.

His presence seemed to engulf yours, like his huge palm and long fingers that had yours clasped tight, where sweat, warmth and tingling pleasure thrived within his touch. 

The vibrations continued to climb, and when your grip weakened, his got stronger, pulling you along. 

Surely, if not from the Kimoyo bead, then his enhanced senses could tell your heart was beating abnormally fast. He must have noticed how you pressed your thighs together whenever you could, or when nobody was looking, brushed the back of your hand across your crotch, just to reel from the fireworks of your aching nerve endings responding to the contact.

Sweat gathered at your forehead and made you feel damp and hot everywhere else. If the heat didn’t kill you, then T’Challa’s teasing would.

A tug at your hand made you turn and take a sudden left. T’Challa led you at an urgent, self-assured pace down a narrow street empty of people, while his guards followed, glancing at each other. 

He turned suddenly, stopping Okoye and Ayo a few feet away as they blinked impassively.

“Please, wait here. The Queen is not feeling well, and needs a moment to rest. We will return when she is feeling better.”

His earnest sincerity was no match for the sharp intelligence of his top general, who wisely hid her smirk.

“Kumkani, we will ensure your privacy. My Queen, I hope you feel better soon.”

You nearly disintegrated at her knowing smile and patronizing tone. It wasn’t the first time Okoye had stood guard while the King pounded you silly, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Thank you, Okoye.”

Strong fingertips guided your body around and you were intrigued, excited, shaky and nervous about wherever you were going. Your gaze swung side to side, finding solid building walls on both sides and in front of you, a T shaped alley. The faster you both walked, the more all the friction between your thighs made you bite your lip. 

With a simple yank of your hand and twirl of your body, you spun and then caught yourself with your hands, clutching the wall in an abandoned and empty, yet clean, alley. Before you knew what was happening, T’Challa was clawing at your panties under your dress, with one hand lifting your skirt while the other twisted and tugged, ripping your panties with a loud tearing sound.

“I think I have tortured you long enough.”

“Please,” you begged.

His fingers danced up your thighs that he pushed apart with his knee, and sank inside you to draw out the pulsating vibranium globe. He regarded it, turning it aside to see every bit of your cream left behind, before it disappeared in his pocket.

You braced against the wall but couldn’t stop your noisy gasp when T’Challa’s fingers began to explore you under your dress, while grinding his solid front all along you from head to toe. Your touch-starved body trembled like an overloaded circuit. You felt his power, his breath, his heat all around you. He had turned you into a greedy, weak, starving little thing, intoxicated on his touch. 

T’Challa’s hand slid up and gripped your throat, pulling you back towards him with gentle pressure until his lips were at your ear. 

“I cancelled your meeting with Tayo,” he whispered. “Do you know why?” 

You swallowed. The answer immediately left your lips. “So you could fuck me?”

An amused smile came to T’Challa’s face, softening his eyes for only a moment. He continued to hold your neck, while his other hand was busily handling the barriers of your clothes. “That’s right Y/N,” he purred. “So I could bury myself in you.”

You felt his cock sliding along your lubricated pussy, and you clenched up with surprise and anticipation, jerking upwards in his arms. 

“Relax,” he soothingly rubbed the palm of his hand over your clit until you grinded back into him, sighing. “Relax for your King,” he murmured, his voice thick with seduction. He knew this kind of talk made you melt, and used it against you.

You were turned away from him, facing a moss-covered wall with your legs being urged further apart, your dress a heap of fabric piled on your ass so his eyes could have access to your pussy. You leaned your chest down and braced your hands on the wall, creating an irresistible angle and telling him, in your way, that you were ready. 

Your act of submission was the ultimate turn on and he groaned, studying your glistening pussy. His hand pumped along his length a few times before he held himself against you, each breath from his lips coming strained and heavy. You closed your eyes, seeing starbursts as you were pulled back on him, taking half his length at once. 

You instinctively pulled forward and away, but the Panther side of T’Challa, wildly animal and possessive, wasn’t having it. He gripped your hips with both hands and pulled you back, burying every inch of himself deep in you with a groan of deep satisfaction. 

The pleasure of finally having him was tinged with nervous excitement of knowing you were outdoors, with people just minutes away in every direction, unknowingly walking past an alley where their King was currently pounding their Queen from behind. You couldn’t shake the thought as you were ass-up, thighs spread, stifling your moans with your hand, bent in half and taking Wakanda’s most astonishing dick like you were born to do it.

The first orgasm came so quickly you weren’t even aware of it until it started. “I’m coming!” You exclaimed with surprise, alerting your lover who began to slam into you with excitement. Nothing escalated his lust more than hearing and watching you come. He could become addicted, making you do it so many times you’d be exhausted for hours after.

“More,” he demanded, just as the initial rush was tapering off. His palms gripped your ass so hard you felt them pinching, as he pulled your cheeks apart to watch himself slowly thrust in and out, zoning in on your juices gathering around the base. 

Hearing his demand, you knew it would be easy enough with a bit of extra help. You reached up with your fingers to find your clit, only to feel them being pushed away.

His hips paused, and his voice took on an authoritative tone, grumbly and deep. “You will not touch yourself. Your pleasure is mine to give, you understand?”

“Ah, yes,” you gently retrieved your hand, placing it back against the wall.

T’Challa shifted you, pulling you upright to a standing position, but still behind you. He thrust into you again, both of you sucking in your breath. 

You felt a metallic coolness and looked down to see the vibranium bullet, cupped in T’Challa’s palm, held against you. 

When he turned the vibration on low, the rush of stimulation had you almost crawling out of his arms. He countered you with his strength and rocked his hips up into you, now with the urgency of wanting to race you to your second orgasm. 

“Oh Bast… I am….” you choked, “T’Challa… please…” 

The vibrations went to just the right setting and his hands and cock were in just the right spot to trigger something powerful enough to trap you in electric cage of pure pulsating pleasure for nearly a minute. The waves kept coming and coming, and you clenched and screamed, having not only beat T’Challa to orgasm but outlasting his. By the time his came and went, you were still riding the unbelievable high as the powerful bullet remained lodged against your clit by T’Challa, addicted to your pleasure.

“Please stop,” you begged with tears rolling down your cheeks. He finally relented and you slumped down, your body parts held together with nothing but willpower.

He took over your needs, dressing you and holding you upright while you hung there, dazed and weak. 

As he tucked, zipped and tied himself back into his formal clothes, you tracked his movements with the kind of goofy, starry eyed smile that made him laugh at the attention. You were both glowing, and it was going to impossible to disguise what you’d just done.

Sure enough, you rejoined Okoye and Ayo, who gave each other subtle eye rolls when their beaming King and Queen strolled up behind them. 

Okoye gave you a prim and proper smile, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you feeling better, my Queen?”

“General,” T’Challa said with a warning growl. 

You bit back a laugh, Okoye’s prickliness not bothering you in the slightest. 

The crowd soon enveloped you as you retraced your steps back to the palace, both you and T’Challa off to your next meetings with matching smiles and a shared secret.

Taglist: 

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[kelyon]

Golden Cuffs 26: The Guests

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

The party gets started and Belle meets some of Rumpelstiltskin’s friends

Hope you guys like new characters!

Read on AO3

On the night of the party, Belle sat at Rumpelstiltskin’s feet by the fireplace and tried to breathe. She always hated this interminable period before an event began--when all was in readiness and there was nothing to do. In the hours before her betrothal feast, Belle had spent a quarter of an hour moving every spoon in the great hall a hair’s breadth closer to the knives set out on the tables. Big events like this always led to that sort of fidgeting.  

There was nothing for her to fidget with now. Rumple had made sure everything was perfect. The food was set out on the table, chairs were arranged in conversational clusters, and enchanted instruments played soft music. He had even left the curtains open, and pinpricks of starlight shone from the black sky outside. There was nothing Belle could do to add to this night, not until the guests arrived. With nothing to occupy her, Belle’s thoughts kept drifting back to useless worries. 

What sort of people would be coming tonight? What would they think of her? How would they treat her? Belle had been trained to be a lady, to be charming and pretty and make polite small talk. But now she was playing the role of a servant, a walking object reduced to near-silence. 

Could she do it? Could she demean herself like that in front of Rumple’s friends? Or would some part of her rebel? She wanted to be good, wanted to make Rumple proud. If she disobeyed him--if she even tried to--would he discipline her in front of his guests? Would he be angry with her? Disappointed? That thought, the thought of letting him down, was the most worrisome of all. 

She was wearing her costume--the ruby collar, the terrible shoes, the gold threads hanging from gold wax on her breasts. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, exposing her back. Rumple had given her a hundred lashes and her flesh was a mess of slowly healing scabs. He hadn’t sewn her up this time--he had said that he made the cuts to be only skin deep, more for show than to inflict real injury. Belle’s long red skirt flowed onto the ground as she knelt at Rumple’s feet and dug her fingernails into her palms. 

“You don’t have to stay down there, you know.”

Belle looked up at him. “Excuse me?” Her voice sounded different when she spoke the only words this collar allowed her. It was higher-pitched, and meeker. She sounded like a small animal, squeaking in the face of a predator. 

Rumple set aside the book he had been reading. “You may come up here and kiss me, if you want to.”

“Right away!” 

Belle scrambled to her feet as best she could in her high-heeled shoes. Rumpelstiltskin pushed the fabric of her skirt to the side and helped her straddle him so that she sat on his lap. He had taken her last night and then again this morning, but they kissed as though they hadn’t seen each other in months.

He let her control the kiss, let her put her arms around his neck and suck his tongue into her mouth. Belle devoured him, hungry and needful and shameless about getting what she wanted. 

Rumple held her by the golden belt at her hips. He steadied her, grounded her. He kept his hands there even when their mouths broke apart. Belle gasped out the first deep breaths she had been able to take all evening.

“Thank you,” she said. It was the first time the collar’s words had matched what she really felt.

 Rumpelstiltskin grinned at her. “Do I detect a hint of nerves, my sweet?”

“Excuse me,” Belle nodded, her shoulders slumping. Rumpelstiltskin rubbed her flesh with his thumbs.

“You’re going to be alright, you know. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you already for going along with this silliness.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t think it was silly to meet Rumple’s friends, to know the sort of people he would invite into his home as guests. But there was no way to tell him that while she was wearing his collar. 

“Almost everyone said they would come,” he said as he trailed his hands up Belle’s body. “But I’d like it just as well if they didn’t.” He fingered the threads that hung from her nipples.

It was the lightest touch, but it pulled Belle into a haze of desire. She whimpered and jerked her hips toward him without even meaning to.

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her, his eyes black. “I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself while you’re wearing these.”

“Right away,” Belle whispered. Her body ached for him, for his touch, for his embrace, for the moment of satisfaction that would come after the party and put an end to this insufferable waiting.  

Rumple licked his lips and pulled her close--but then abruptly cocked his head to the side. “Someone’s here,” he said. He set her to her feet and stood up. “Are you ready, my dear?”

Belle gathered herself and straightened her shoulders. “Right away, thank you.” 

Rumple took that for the ‘yes’ that she meant it to be. “Perfect!”

He opened the doors that led into the foyer and they walked through together. This had been the first room that Belle had ever seen of the castle. She remembered his words that night, when he pointed at the other set of doors: That’s the way out, you won’t be using it. She had been so bewildered then, so unsure of what the horrible Dark One would want from her. 

 How could she have imagined that she would come to want things from him?

Tonight the front doors were opened and Belle could see out into the walled courtyard. Lanterns hung along the avenue from the front gates and a waxing moon hung low and yellow in the sky. Snow on the ground reflected all the light, giving the courtyard a dim glow. Belle shivered and crossed her arms over her naked chest, not ready to leave the warmth of the foyer. 

Rumpelstiltskin stood outside on a middle landing, unaffected by the weather. He had his eyes in the air, at a swirl of orange magic that was changing shape in front of them. It looked like a tube, with a line across the top, but the outline of the thing was faint and sketchy. As the shape came into focus, it became smaller, the orange more vivid. It spun, as it traveled downwards, rotating like a flying toy. By the time the shape reached the ground, it had become a solid object. Belle was so mystified by the magic that she didn’t realize the shape was a hat until a young man reached down and put it on top of his head.  

“Jefferson!” Rumpelstiltskin called down, in a tone that Belle could only describe as happy.

“Dark One!” the young man shouted up to answer. He had a woman with him, and he took her by the hand as they ran up the stairs to meet Rumple.

To Belle’s amazement, the two men embraced each other like brothers. No, more than brothers. Rumple and Jefferson lingered over each other, both of them seeming hesitant to pull away. Jefferson kept his hand on Rumpelstiltskin’s shoulder for far longer than was necessary and Rumple didn’t seem to mind at all. 

“It’s been too long, old friend,” Rumple said.

The young man squeezed Rumpelstiltskin’s shoulder. “We invited you to the wedding! And the baby’s christening! You’re always welcome in our home, I hope you know that.”

Rumple patted Jefferson’s hand fondly and gently pushed him away. “I did you a favor by staying away. But I thank you for not doing the same for me. And it’s so good to finally meet your bride!”

The woman was not tall, but she carried herself with complete confidence. Her copper-colored gown was cut to emphasize her large bosom and hips--the figure of a very wide hourglass. She was fair-haired, with a face so round and pink it could have been a peach. Her dark eyes sparkled brightly enough that Belle could see them glinting from where she stood.

“Dark One,” Jefferson said with an air of formality that Belle thought might have been affected, “this is my wife, Leona Ogg of Lancre.”

“Lancre,” Rumple said thoughtfully. “That isn’t around here, is it?”

“Not hardly!” Leona Ogg laughed, her body shaking and her round cheeks flushing red.

“And let me introduce you to Belle.” Rumple turned and called up to her. “Will you come down, my sweet?”

“Right away,” she answered, grateful that he hadn’t ordered her. Her terrible shoes and the long skirt made the stone steps particularly perilous. This was no time to be under the control of the cuffs. She walked, as quickly as she could manage, down to Rumple and his friends.

As she approached, she could see Jefferson and Leona’s faces shift from genial to startled. Not shocked, as far as Belle could tell. Perhaps they had seen pleasure-slaves before. But still, it was clear that they hadn’t expected to see one tonight.

It was the first time anyone but Rumple had seen her in this costume. It was, Belle realized, the first time anyone but Ariel had seen her since she had become Rumpelstiltskin’s thing. Her body trembled a little, and she tried to convince herself that it was only the cold, but she knew it was her racing thoughts.

Who were these people, really? What kind of people were they? Had they ever seen a woman displayed as Belle was now? What did they think of her? Did they judge her? Admire her? 

Belle squared her shoulders and held her head up proudly. Whatever they thought of her wasn’t important. She wasn’t there for them, she belonged to Rumple. She was his thing and he was proud of her. That was, she told herself, all she needed.

The three of them were silent while they all looked at each other. Belle saw that Jefferson and his wife were both wearing collars. They were simple things of brown leather, with an iron ring in the center. Belle had never seen that sort of thing before and she tried to puzzle out what it meant. Did they belong to someone too? Had either of them ever been what she was now? Or were collars just the fashion where they came from? 

The couple was still staring at her, taking in her costume and her body underneath it. 

Jefferson broke the silence. “Huh!” he said, adjusting his hat. “So I guess it’s that kind of a party?”

“Not today,” Rumple said. “For now the girl is just for show. Do you like her?”

“Coo, yes I do!” Leona sighed. She reached out to Belle, but then hesitated, her hand still halfway in the air. It looked like she was waiting for something, waiting for permission.

Belle gave the permission. She joined her hand to the other woman’s, greeting her like a friend. 

Leona squeezed her hand and then released it. “You’re gorgeous!”

Belle blushed and smiled. “Thank you.”

She didn’t need their approval. But it was still a relief to find acceptance from the first of Rumple’s friends she’d ever met.

“You must be freezing!” Jefferson almost looked ready to take off his russet-colored coat and put it around Belle’s bare shoulders. He turned around to Rumple. “Can we go inside?”

“Yes, of course.” Rumple dismissed them with a wave. “Belle will get you some refreshments and then come back to greet the rest of my guests as they arrive.”

Obedient to the unspoken order, Belle turned around to lead them to the dining room. As soon as she turned her back, she heard both Jefferson and Leona suck in breath at the sight of her. 

She turned her head and tried to give them a reassuring smile. “Thank you,” she said. It was all she could say. 

Leona waited until they were in the foyer to bustle up to her and talk somewhat privately. “So is all of this fun for both of you or just for him?”

None of Belle’s phrases could answer that question, so she just smiled and shrugged.

Jefferson caught up with his wife. “In my experience, the Dark One doesn’t treat sex as casually as he probably could. I bet you either really like this or you’re getting paid really well.” 

Belle gave an enthusiastic nod. “Thank you!”

“So both? Well that’s good luck. You’re living the dream!” He laughed and wrapped his arm around Leona’s ample waist. 

Belle led the couple into the dining room and showed them the food. Earlier that day, Belle had spent an hour taking heaping trays out of the cupboard and placing them on the table until it groaned under all the weight. Rumple had watched, keeping a careful eye that she didn’t wobble in her golden shoes. It was agreed that she would serve drinks from the cupboard, but the guests could feed themselves.

When Jefferson saw the food spread out, he rubbed his hands together greedily. “Leo, do you remember when we went down to Genua to celebrate Fat Lunchtime?”

“Of course, love.” With one hand, Leona picked up three of the tiny sausages on skewers. “We had a grand time, but you said the food was disappointing.”

“It was,” her husband agreed. “Because it was just a pale reflection of these!” He held up a handled glass bowl that was full of pastries covered in white powder. “The Dark One and I first discovered these delights while we were running an errand for the Chef-Queen of Maldonia.” 

Belle went over to the cupboard in the cabinet to get pull out the drink tray. Behind her, she could hear Jefferson making exaggerated moans as he ate half the pastry in one bite.

“Leo, you have to try this!” he said with his mouth full. The white powder had dusted over his printed orange shirt. Leona batted at the powder while Jefferson pushed the other half of the pastry toward her. “Try it!”

“What is it?” Leona laughed. “What’s it called?”

“A beignet. It’s like nothing in this world or most others.”

As Belle approached them with the tray, Leona took a dainty bite out of her husband’s hands. 

Immediately, the woman’s eyes went wide. “It’s hot!” she said. “It’s sweet!” She chewed. “It’s amazing!” Leona’s face melted into pure bliss.

“I know!” Jefferson beamed at his wife. “It’s just fried dough in powdered sugar, but it’s so easy to get wrong that it will change your life when you have it done right!”

“Let me have another one.”

“Excuse me?” Belle came between them with the tray.  

  She offered two cups to the two guests. One was made of clay and was no bigger than a thimble. The dark amber liquid inside smelled faintly of apples and intensely of alcohol. The other cup was a lavender porcelain teacup and saucer. The drink was steaming, but the aroma wafting out smelled much earthier than any tea Belle had ever known.

“Oh, thanks very much.” Jefferson smiled broadly at the teacup, as if he knew exactly what was inside it. 

Leona took the thimble cup and quaffed the contents in a single swig. Her eyes watered but her expression was that of pained delight. She pounded the flat of her palm against the wooden tabletop as she swallowed.  

“Jefferson,” Leona gripped her husband by the arm. “I need you to promise me something.”

Jefferson held his cup and saucer in his free hand and carefully blew on it. “Anything, my love.”

“Promise me, you’ll never let Mum know that her scumble is now only the second best I’ve ever had in my life.”

Jefferson threw his head back and laughed. “You should see if that cupboard makes brandy better than your mother’s too.”

“I would never!” Leona cried. “To be bested by a little wooden box at scumble and brandy? It would break her heart!”

The couple laughed together and Belle went out to see Rumple again. They seemed like lovely people, not monsters at all. 

It did make her heart heavy to see a man and a woman so obviously in love with each other, to see them delight in each other’s company and be utterly comfortable together. She would never have that, not so explicitly. 

No one would ever call her “my love.”

Rumpelstiltskin was still standing on the landing outside the foyer, his hands behind his back. He looked over at her as she approached. 

“Are they settled in?”

Belle nodded. If she had a voice, she would have told him how impressed they both had been with his refreshments. She would have to remember to tell him when he took her collar off after the party. 

“Jefferson is an old friend,” Rumple said softly. “We’ve been on dozens of adventures together, off and on, over the years. But he has a family now, so I’ve seen less and less of him.”

From what Jefferson had said, that had been Rumple’s choice, not his. But perhaps that wasn’t for her to mention. Either way, she couldn’t now. All Belle could do was stand close to him and rub her hand along his golden brocade coat. The next time she was permitted a question, she would ask about Jefferson. She wanted to know about the adventures they had gone on, and how they had become so close, and what, exactly, that closeness involved.

A shadow appeared over the moon and Rumpelstiltskin stepped away from Belle. As the shadow came closer, it appeared to be the shape of a man. He was tall and wearing dark robes, holding a staff and standing on a--Belle squinted--a carpet? 

The carpet flew over the gates, through the courtyard, and stopped in front of Rumpelstiltskin on the landing. The man disembarked and the carpet rolled itself up and placed itself into a corner in the foyer. 

This new guest stood like someone of great importance. The staff in his hand was made of bronze, shaped like the head of a hissing snake. He wore a black turban on his head and had a large red and blue bird perched on his shoulder. 

“Belle, may I present Jafar, Grand Vizier to the Sultan of Agrabah.”

“Soon to be the sultan’s son-in-law,” Jafar bowed with an oily smile. “And shortly after that, the sultan.”      

Rumple cocked his head to the side. “So you are to wed the little princess then? I’m sure she’s happy to hear that.”

“What does it matter how that shrew feels about it? When her father issues a command, she must obey.” His eyes roved over Belle while he kept talking to Rumpelstiltskin. “Women are only ever truly happy when they’re being obedient to their men, don’t you find?”

“In my experience, it depends on the woman,” Rumple said evenly. “And on the man.”

“Aw-waak!” Suddenly, the bird on Jafar’s shoulder made a noise that sounded like human speech. “Too cold!”

Belle blinked, and felt her mouth open. Did that animal just speak? How was that possible? Was it magical? Had it been a person at one time, transformed into a bird? Were such creatures common in Jafar’s kingdom?

Rumple saw her expression. “So you still have that parrot, then?” He emphasized the word slightly, just enough that Belle knew he was doing it on purpose. So that creature was called a parrot. She would have to ask Rumple about that too, when she got her voice back.

“Oh, yes,” Jafar said with a throaty chuckle. “Iago can be a dreadful nuisance at times, but no one else in my confidence has more cunning and devious ideas.” 

“Feed me!” the parrot said, as if participating in the conversation. 

Belle couldn’t stop staring at this animal, and she couldn’t help the feeling that it was looking back at her with understanding. Its eyes were yellow, the black pupils moving and regarding her in a manner unlike any other bird she’d ever seen. 

It had an intelligence, she thought. It looked at her like it knew she was a whore, and knew what whoring meant. Belle’s stomach roiled as the parrot looked at her. She was an object of lust to this animal as much as she was to any of the people here tonight.

“Belle,” Rumple’s voice cut through her thoughts, “why don’t you take Jafar and his companion inside with the other guests?”

“Thank you,” she nodded, blinking. This was silly, she thought. She had known what it would mean to be presented as Rumpelstiltskin’s thing, his whore, his pleasure-slave. That was the whole point of this party, for him to show her off and drive all of his friends wild with jealousy. Of course they would want her. It should be a compliment that anything with eyes looked at her with desire. 

But knowing the logic of it was entirely different from feeling those strange and lustful eyes upon her as she moved. 

When she turned around the parrot whistled. “Tailfeathers!” it said. Then it whistled again and made chirping sounds all the way into the foyer. Somehow, by some creeping feeling at the base of her neck, Belle knew that the noises the animal was making were obscene.

“Hush, Iago,” Jafar snapped the creature’s beak shut between his thin fingers. He stopped her before she could take them from the foyer to the dining room. He wrapped a bony hand around her bare arm and held her still. His fingers rubbed at her skin, slowly sliding down her arm and stopping at the cuff on her wrist. 

With surprising strength, Jafar pulled her hand up to him so that he might examine the cuff more closely. Belle’s body followed her wrist, and she almost tripped over her heels and her long skirt. She almost fell into the arms of this man, this towering stranger who smiled like poison.

“My apologies for the insult to your lovely ears. Iago is a vile animal with base instincts. But clearly you are a creature of more refinement.”

“Thank you?” Belle took a step backwards, gently pulling her hand out of his grasp. 

“In my kingdom,” he went on, “a jewel such as yourself would adorn a sultan’s crown. Perhaps not as a queen, but you would certainly be the favorite in a harem.”

“Excuse me,” Belle made herself smile and nearly bolted for the dining room.

Jafar stalked behind her, unruffled. “And with your obvious aptitude for punishment… Well, I know many men in Agrabah who would give me everything  they possessed just to spend an hour with you in a dungeon.”

“Right away!” Belle loudly announced her presence and her intention as soon as she opened the doors.

But Jafar didn’t let her take another step into the dining room. He grabbed her wrist again, snaking his gnarled fingers around one of her cuffs.

“It’s these, isn’t it?” he hissed. “These are what bind you to the Dark One, what make you his slave instead of mine.”

“Hey there!” Jefferson bounded over to them, almost forcing his body directly between Belle and Jafar. “You look like an interesting person! My name is Jefferson, pleasure to meet you!” He stuck out his hand in greeting.

Jafar shook Jefferson’s hand like he had been offered a dead fish. “Ecstatic to make your acquaintance.” 

Jefferson stayed where he was and Belle snuck away to the cupboard. On her way, she passed Leona, who was standing beside the enchanted instruments. 

“You alright?” she spoke softly enough that the men couldn’t hear.

Belle took a deep breath, and then she nodded. “Thank you,” she said. 

Leona winked at her. “Didn’t look like old bird-and-bedsheets there knew this wasn’t that kind of a party.”

Belle snickered and the laughter felt like a cool breeze on a stifling day. 

The cupboard yielded a bowl of fresh fruit cut up into small pieces, and a small cup full of something steaming and black. Belle took another breath before she went back to Jafar.

Jefferson was still pulling the vizier into conversation. “Just where did you say you were from?”

“Oh, much farther than you’ve travelled, I’m sure.” He reached out to Belle as she served, but Jefferson interrupted the motion by clapping the other man on the back.

“Try me!” he laughed. “I promise you, I’ve been almost everywhere!”

Jefferson knew what he was doing, Belle thought. He was protecting her, with Leona as his partner. When she got the chance, she would have to tell Rumple what very good friends they had.

She slipped away from the dining room and back outside to wait with Rumple.

When he saw her face, his brow furrowed. “Something happened. Are you alright?”

Belle nodded and stood beside him. “Thank you,” she said. She didn’t care about the cold anymore. If she froze to death it would be fine, as long as she could do it at his side.  

Rumple pressed her close to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to stop?”

Belle shook her head against his high collar, relishing the warmth of him. 

He rubbed her shoulder. “Perhaps this was a foolish notion. But I still say you can handle it. Just kiss my boots if you need it all to go away.”

Belle nodded into his coat, wanting to nod into his skin, wanting them to be naked together in a bed, warm and happy and alone. She wanted to talk to him, to use her own words instead of smiles and gestures and meaningless phrases. He was right next to her and she missed him so much. 

But she didn’t want the party to stop. She didn’t want to give up so easily, to put an end to everybody’s good time. She was stronger than that, she knew she was. There was nothing she couldn’t handle tonight, so long as everything ended with her in Rumpelstiltskin’s arms.

Presently, there was a strange rumbling sound coming from the avenue leading to the castle. Through the darkness, Belle saw two lights, brighter than the rising moon. The lights were above the ground and at the same level, like the eyes of a giant animal, and they were getting closer. 

“Oh.” Rumple said flatly. “Well, there’s no way to explain what you’re about to see, so just think of it as a white metal monster, or a giant horse with no true life in it.”

It certainly sounded like a monster. The rumbling grew louder as the lights grew brighter and there were a few other sounds that almost sounded like the honking of a goose, but longer and angrier.

Abruptly, the noises stopped and the lights dimmed. A door opened in the side of the white metal and a woman stepped out. In the near-darkness, Belle could only make out hair that was black on one side and white on the other.

“Hello, darling!” the woman called up from the avenue. “We’ll be right up!”

“‘We’ she says,” Rumple muttered. “I wonder which paramour she brought with her this time.”

Two women came up the steps. The one who had greeted them raced up the stairs, lifting the hem of her skirt up to reveal shoes very much like the ones Belle wore. Her shoes were colored the bright red to match her gloves and the inside of her white fur coat. The woman moved with impressive speed. How could she run in such shoes?

The other woman walked more slowly, as though she had to ponder each step before she took it. She kept her eyes on the ground but didn’t lift up her green dress.

“Darling!” The pale woman greeted Rumpelstiltskin with a kissing motion over each of his shoulders. “It has been ages! Where the hell have you been hiding?”

“Here, mostly,” he said flatly. “Cruella, let me introduce you to Belle.”

The woman’s face was heavy with cosmetics. Her painted lips made a perfect scarlett O when she looked at Belle. She held up a long pipe in a red-gloved hand and brought it to her mouth. 

“Well!” the woman said as she exhaled smoke. “Yes, I can see why anyone would want to stay sequestered with a little morsel like this.”

Rumple didn’t respond to that. “Belle, this is Cruella de Vil, of the House of de Vil.”   

Belle gave Cruella de Vil a polite smile. She seemed such a volatile person, it was hard to know how to react to her.

Cruella grinned and called down to her companion. “Ursula, come get a look at this gel! She’s so beautiful I’m about to be sick!” It took Belle a moment to understand the odd way this woman said the word girl.

The other woman reached the top of the stairs and Belle saw why she’d had so much trouble. She had thought that the woman was wearing a green dress, but now she saw that only the bodice was made of green cloth. The woman wore no skirt, because she had no legs. Her lower half was a bright green cluster of wriggling tentacles. She had to propel herself on them to move forward. 

“This is Ursula,” Rumple said, “the Sea-Witch. Ursula, this is Belle.”

Belle tried not to stare at the Sea-Witch, even as her mind reeled. So she was a water creature! How agonizing must it be for her to live on land! Did she do it all the time or had she only come out of the ocean for this party? Belle was so engrossed in her thoughts, she almost didn’t feel something cold and wet slide across her cheek. 

It was a tentacle, caressing her face as dextrously as a hand. Belle gulped, but refused to let herself scream or fight against the bizarre sensation.

Ursula had brown skin and yellow hair. She wore a green crown that held her hair back, but still let it cascade down her shoulders. Her smile was wide and knowing, with very white teeth. 

“She is exquisite,” her voice was deep and musical. She turned her gaze to the other woman. “But I’d rather go home with you.”

Cruella preened, wrapping her white fur coat closely around her body. “Darling!”

“So the two of you are back together,” Rumple said. “Is it for good this time?”

The Sea-Witch answered with a laugh, “Never for good, but it will be forever.” She took Cruella by the hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. “At least, I want it to be.”

With her free hand, Cruella caressed Ursula’s cheek. “You just need to stop leaving me alone for days at a time. I get terribly lonely, and bored and I… seek out company. It’s only because I miss you!”

Ursula chuckled and wrapped her arm around the other woman’s waist. “If you say so, love.”

Love again, Belle thought. So many people had love tonight. Even people Rumpelstiltskin called monsters. These women stood together, their foreheads touching, each of them smiling a smile meant only for the other. Looking at them hurt Belle in a way she couldn’t describe.

“But look at this creature!” Cruella broke away to gesture at Belle. “Isn’t she the perfect little pet! Look at her collar!” She looked at Rumple. “Oh, but she is a good girl, isn’t she? I’m sure you like to make her roll over and beg!” The last word was almost a growl, playful and suggestive.

Rumple only smiled politely. “Why don’t you ladies go inside for some refreshment?”

In the dining room, the other three guests were over by the enchanted instruments. It seemed that Jefferson and Leona had gotten the instruments to change their tune, and now the couple was trying to teach Jafar and his parrot a song about hedgehogs. Their attention kept Jafar too occupied to give Belle any trouble. 

Belle served Cruella de Vil a clear liquid in a glass shaped like an upside-down cone on a very long stem. At the bottom of the glass, there was an olive on a skewer. 

“Oh my God!” Cruella’s eyes were teary as she took the glass by the stem. She held it up and looked at the clear fluid as though it were the elixir of life. “Gin!”

Ursula was given a two-handled bowl that was covered with seashells. She didn’t drink the contents, but slowly poured them over her body like she was rinsing off after a bath. The Sea-Witch sighed contentedly, her tentacles reaching out to catch any errant drops of moisture.

“Coo-ee!” Leona called over to the newcomers. “Come and join us! We’ll all be singing after another round or three and it’s better if you know some of the words ahead of time.”

Cruella and Ursula exchanged a look. Belle imagined a silent conversation between them, debating the merits of joining in on the revelry or staying outside the circle of merriment. After a moment, the two women walked hand in hand over to the others.

“I have been known to enjoy a pretty voice,” Ursula said. 

“And when we’ve all learned your song, I’ve got one to teach you all.” Cruella de Vil grinned saucily. “It’s got my name in it.”

“Mind serving us another round, Belle?” Jefferson asked.

“Right away,” Belle said, her smile not so false as usual. Jefferson had become a balm to her, a life raft while she swam through a treacherous ocean. 

Belle served them all. As she walked among Rumple’s friends, there were subtle touches placed on her body, from everyone but Jefferson and Leona. Belle tried to ignore the sensations. The touches were nothing galling, no assault on her body. If she asked any of the guests, they would say that it was an accident--a brush across her back, a finger against her palm, a soft press of a body against her body. It was nothing, she told herself. Nothing worse than she had expected.

She went outside.   

Rumple had his eyes on the night sky, scanning it across the horizon. He stopped when he heard the clacking of Belle’s shoes. “How are you holding up, little one?”

“Excuse me,” Belle said, beleaguered. The party had only begun and already she would have happily said good night to every new person she had met today. 

“You know how to end it if you need to.” His face was sympathetic. Belle wondered if he knew what she felt. She wanted the party to be over, but had no desire to be the one to end it. “Is everyone alright in there?” 

“Right away,” she nodded. The phrases made no sense, but Rumple understood.

“Good. We can lock them all in and go traveling.”

Belle snorted out a giggle and for a moment everything felt normal again. 

Rumple held her by her arms. “I know this is a trial, my sweet. But you are doing so well! Everything we set out to accomplish by planning this party is already done! I promise you, it will be smooth sailing from here on out.”

Belle nodded. “Right away.”

“I think everyone who is coming is here. Are you ready to go in?”

She didn’t speak, but held up one finger as an answer. 

“One thing first? What is it?”

Belle threw her arms around him and pressed her body into his. Of all the touches she had received that night, this was the only one she craved. 

Rumple stumbled back a little, but quickly returned the embrace. He held her and for a moment they breathed the same air and there was no one else in the world except for them. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Thank you,” she answered. 

Slowly, they broke apart and Rumpelstiltskin led her into the dining room, closing the doors behind them. She brought him a goblet of gold-colored wine from the cupboard--and another round for everyone else--and they allowed the chatter and revelry to keep them separated. He sat on the table and struck up a conversation with Leona. Belle stood by the cabinet, ready to serve. 

The company had broken away from the enchanted instruments and fractured into hubs of conversation. Jafar and Ursula seemed to be comparing types of magic. Leona and Rumple were talking about Jefferson. And Jefferson was talking to Cruella. She was describing a very specific leather item that was far beyond the skill of any leatherworkers she could commission.

“No, I know where to procure something like that,” Jefferson said between bites of a beignet. They were standing by the glass cabinets, close enough that Belle could hear the entirety of their conversation. “There’s a man by the name of Tuttle Scrope in Ankh-Morpork who specializes in such items. If you have your measurements handy, we’ll actually be going that way after the party. I could bring you back a quote, including my finder’s fee.”   

“Darling, that would be simply divine!” Cruella smiled. “My sweet Ursula seems to think she has cause to doubt me and I want to show her that I’m faithful as dog to her!”

“Understandable. Why do you think my wife and I wear these?” He flicked at his leather collar with his thumb. “Now, if you happen to have gold on you, I can--”

The doors slammed open and everyone went silent. 

Two women entered the room, both of them beautiful and magnificent. One was tall and sleek, robed in black and purple with a horned headdress over curly blonde hair. The other was shorter, but no less grand. Her black gown was wide and adorned with jewels--blood red rubies and onyx and diamonds. When she spoke, her voice was low and mocking:

“Sorry we’re late.”

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Letting Go

This is a collaboration with @thebiganvil. I am picking up the story that I started back in February.

This piece comes in directly after Long Night

If you enjoy my writing, please come check out our website! Silverthorn

The early morning sun was just beginning to break through the window. Ælithil dozed on his pillow, despite all attempts to remain awake. It had been hours upon hours since he brought her home. From beneath the blankets, Silannah began to stir, mumbling incoherently at first. Ælithil twitched an ear, and looked up. 

Silannah voice broke the silence again, barely intelligible. “I will keep my word....”

Ælithil brow furrowed as he moved towards her. “Sil,” he asked softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to sit up, surprised. “Hey, hey, slow...” he gently instructed. 

The ancient Kaldorei woman gasped in pain. “Shit!” She dropped back down with a thump, her brow knitting. “Æl?” She managed the question weakly.

“I'm here,” he responded softly. 

“How did I...how am I back here?”

“Here, take this first,” he coaxed. He handed her a mug and a hunk of crusted bread. “The ale will warm you up, but you need to eat. I'll make tea for after that’s finished.” Silannah looked at the bread in her hand and sighed heavily. The younger elf snatched the kettle from the table and placed it on the runestone. Silannah sat up very slightly and sipped a little. She winced as the alcohol hit her busted lip. He watched her carefully, concerned. 

Silannah looks down at herself, frowning at her state of undress. She pulled the blanket up and covered herself. Shivering a little, she took another sip of the ale, attempting to avoid the cut, but was not entirely successful. 

“Your clothes were wet and frozen, I had to take you out of them,” he explained. 

Silannah picked the bread back up, her hands shaking as she tried to tear it. “No..I understand,” was all she quietly managed. She made another attempt at pulling off a bite of the bread, but the crust would not cooperate. 

“Do you need help?” He didn’t expect her to even acknowledge the offer. Instead, Silannah started to argue but restrained herself. She held it out to him, trembling. Ælithil’s  eyes went wide in disbelief. He sat next to her, taking the bread and started to tear it into bite-sized pieces. “I got out some night clothes for you. When you feel up to it.”

Silannah picked up a piece of bread, chewing it very slowly and deliberately. “I would appreciate that,” she responded quietly. 

He set them next to her head. “Can you do it, or do you need me to dress you?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she lay there looking completely ashamed “I...I....” She bit it back, afraid to meet his eyes. 

He adjusted his postition and put the clothes on his lap. “It's ok, I'll do it. You were damn near dead, Aunt Sil.” Ælithil lifted her gently to a seated position, slowly pulling a shirt on for her. She whimpered uncomfortably. 

Silannah took a shuddering breath. “It would have been best...”

Ælithil grimaced. “Please don’t talk like that.”

Silannah sighed heavily. “I am sorry you have to see this.” She took another bite of the bread, again chewing it with care. 

“Aunt Sil, what happened?” He laid her back down with care, his face pulled tight in concern. 

She looked at the mug in her hand. “I wanted to go, Ælithil.”

Ælithil looked confused. “Go?”

“To her. Kajeda.”

He looked confused for a moment, then his eyes went wide. “Shan'do, no....”

Silannah sipped again slowly, pulling air in with a wince. She shook her head. “Æl...I am hardly a Shan'do right now.

“You are my Shan'do, no matter what.”

Silannah chuckled softly. “Gods but you are stubborn.”

“I get it from you. And don’t tell me that is impossible, I don’t care. What were you doing out there? Did you do this to yourself?”

She took a slow breath and tried to sit up again. “I was...” She grunted with the exertion. “I was trying to get to Everlook.”

“You were nowhere near Everlook...” he retorted, not buying her story. 

Silannah started to take another bite and put it down. “All right...let me...let me try to explain...it's fuzzy.” He nodded slowly, waiting to see what she had to say. “I sent you away after you started asking questions. And I...Ælithil, I have tried to keep walls up inside, but you asked and they crumbled.” Ælithil furrowed his brow. She lifted her mug, sipping it again. “And I haven't eaten since.”

Ælithil  sighed heavily. “And you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”

Silannah nodded, “Whatever was here.”

He scowled. “I saw the broken bottles.” He snatched the mug of ale from her hand. “That's enough of that.” Silannah nodded wordlessly. Æl grabbed the boiling kettle from atop the runestone. 

“Just some water would be fine.”

Ælithil took a moment to tidy up the table and prepare the teapot. “You're getting tea, you need the warmth.”

Silannah frowned. “I was going to let go, Ælithil. If you wish the truth of it.” Ælithil clenched his jaw and poured the water into the pot. “I only needed a couple of days,” she continued quietly. “And then Este decided to show up instead of just reading the letter I had sent.”

“Estelæth?  She was here?”

She nodded, “Came to check on me.” Ælithil poured a cup of tea and walked over to the bed. He held out the mug to her. Silannah reached out gingerly, her voice going tight. “Oh gods…”

Ælithil scowled at her. “What?”

She shook her head. “It's not your fault...it's just…” breaking off, she bit back the rest.

Growing annoyed with her, Ælithil snapped. “Oh, no, I just saved your damn life. You are talking to me.”

Silannah lip quivered as she fought to speak. “Ælithil...this is something I shared with her...It is no easy thing for me to…” She closed her eyes, fighting against the tightening in her chest. “To drink this.”

“Right now it is something to help make you well.  Drink.” He stood over her, his arms crossed, indicating no arguments would be entertained. Silannah nodded and sipped it. A tear ran down her cheek as she swallowed. “So why were you going to Everlook?”

“Este figured out what I was doing,” she sighed. “She forced me to give my word I would take care of myself.” Gesturing around the cottage, “There's nothing left to eat.”

“I’ve got some rations for the road. I can go get more later.” Silannah picked up a small piece of bread and placed it in her mouth. She started to chew, her face going a little green. So she pushed it into her cheek and let it sit. “So how does sitting out near the Hidden Grove a mile off the road count as taking care of yourself?”

She sipped her tea again. “I called Helin to me and I was going to go get some food. A tree fell? Maybe?” She shook her head, unable to recall. “Something frightened him... He took off.”

“That’s why he left the road?”

“I was taking the cut off between the path and the road. To shorten the trip,” she explained. “We were almost to the road when it happened. And he just zipped through, no commands obeyed.”

“I saw the tracks.  Lucky for you it wasn’t snowing the yesterday.”

Nodding her agreement, “He threw me, not on purpose. And went to hide.” Ælithil muttered under his breath. Silannah continued quietly. “I couldn't hold on. I tried to get up but…” Looking down, she attempted to move her leg. A short yelp escaped her lips before she could bite it back. Ælithil scowled at her. “I am fairly certain it is broken in more than one place.”

Ælithil nodded. “One is a compound fracture. I'll put a splint on it. Finish your tea then lay down on your back.”

Silannah nodded. “I am afraid I am of no use to you now.”

“Your wounds will heal.”

She shook her head. “Some don't, Ban’du.” Ælithil scowled at her again. Silannah quickly downed the last of the tea, holding the cup out to him, refusing to look at it. Ælithil took the cup and set it aside. She worked to get herself onto her back as Æl stepped towards the door.

“Be right back,” he told he and walked outside. The sharp crack of wood breaking could be heard, followed by the stomping of his boots as he knocked off the snow. He set several large branches on the floor and moved to his side of the space. He dug around in his pack before revealing several rolls of bandages. Carefully straightening the injured leg, he finally spoke again. “I came back....found the house trashed.” Silannah took a sharp breath, but said nothing. Very gently, he reminded her, “This is going to hurt…ready?” She nodded and gripped the bedclothes. Ælithil pulled down in a sharp, single motion, setting the bones. 

Silannah screamed for a moment before nearly passing out. She gulped air, tears coming unbidden. Ælithil sighed, setting a couple of stripped branches along each side of the leg.”Tea set had been left out unwashed, ripped up dress or something on the floor. I thought you got raided.” He began to wind bandages around the leg, binding it to the sticks. “I looked around, found your tracks.”

Silannah choked out through gritted teeth. “I am sorry...I...I allowed myself to lose control.” She looked about the cottage. “You cleaned up.”

“Yeah. You were out for a while.” He continued his efforts, focused on his work. Silannah swallowed the soggy bread in her mouth and placed another in her cheek. “Your cat had just crashed through the woods, not trying to be stealthy or anything, so his path off the road was pretty easy to follow.” The woman chuckled mirthlessly. “Found you up by the grove, damn near frozen solid and more dead than alive.”

“I do not know why I keep the animal.” She winced, “Too tight, Ban’du!”

“It has to be tight, stop bitching. You taught me to do it when you broke my arm, and you didn’t listen to me when I complained either.”

“That's because you were being a baby,” she snapped back, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” 

“Trying to keep you from jamming that splint into my leg too far,” she grumbled. Silannah arched her back, trying to hold herself steady.

“Just let me do it, ok?” Silannah sighed, but nodded. “You taught me well, just trust me.”

“All right.”

“Was anyone out there with you?” She shook her head at him. “Hmm…”

“Este left and I went straight away.”

“There was another set of tracks out there, it came up to you and then went away,” he told her. He tied off the first bandage and started on the second.

“I…” her face twisted for a moment, “I thought I dreamt that.”

“Dreamt what?”

“Someone walking up to me,” she replied. She tried to sit up a little to watch him. He reached over and pushed her back down.

“And they didn’t help?”

“I asked for help...but I..I couldn’t open my eyes.” Silannah reached down, touching her hip. “My coin pouch,” she stopped, concentrating on the memory. “They took my coin pouch.”

“What?” The word came out with a growl. “Gods damned goblins.”

“I heard it move…” She made a face. “It could have been anyone, Æl.”

“Around here?” He grunted. “Goblins is the best bet, especially for thieving. Little bastards.”

She sighed, “You are probably right.” Ælithil finished tying off the bindings. Silannah  shifted and tried to move her toes. She managed some jerky twitches. “Well, that's something, I suppose.”

Ælithil muttered, “Should just clean this continent of anyone not kaldorei….” Silannah swallowed the bread and lay back down. Ælithil blinked. His voice dropped to a whisper. suddenly. “Or other elves….” He began to clean up the tea service.

“I was supposed to go to Este's place,” Silannah told him. 

“Was she coming back for you?”

“She told me...what was it?” She rubbed her face. “Something about getting me away from here? I cannot recall it.”

“Well, I can't get you that far.”

“She's gonna be pissed off then,” she grunted, an odd smile on her face. “Good. That's what she gets.” She muttered to herself about people staying out of her business.

“What I am going to do is sit you on my panther and walk your ass to Everlook,” he stated, matter-of-factly. Silannah blinked at him. “I will write my father, he can come get us we can port to his place.”

“Oh for fel's sake…”

“What?”

“Why would I need to go there?”

“Min'da will take care of you. And you can get looked after,” he scowled at her, adding, “and watched to make sure you don’t do anything else stupid.”

“I'm nearly twelve thousand years old. If I want to do something stupid, that's my choice.” Ælithil glared at her. 

“You know, months and months ago, you showed up when I was sitting minding my own business at that great tavern in Stormwind. I heard a lot of shit about being ready and doing my duty and crap like that.”

“You're 25! You haven't yet done your duty!”

“And I came here, and got my ass kicked and my gods damned bones broken for months on end.”

“Sounds like I did my job then,” she retorted.

“And I didn’t complain, I took it. I did anything you asked of me.” His voice had an edge to it that she didn’t quite recognize at first.

“That's what you are supposed to do.”

“And because of you I learned how to be me after everything I'd lost…” 

“My job was to get you to this point! So you don't need me. I've done it. Someone throw me a damned parade,” she mocked.

He turned to her, tears in his eyes. “And you are the most important gods damned person in my life and you are not going to quit on me now! And if you make one more gods damn smart remark I swear I am going to re-break that fucking leg.”

“Don’t…don't..." she begged. “You take me off that fucking pedestal right now!”

Ælithil was shaking with anger. “SHUT UP,” he bellowed at her. “Just shut the fel up and accept what you are, gods damnit!” Silannah shuddered, tears forming despite her every effort to stop them. He softened and continued quietly. “You're my family….”

“I cannot be Æl...I do not have that within me,” she whispered.

“Don't talk shit. You already are.” He sounded truly hurt. “My father is distant by nature, my mother is wounded.  You are the family I got in this life after all the others got erased.” Silannah pushed herself up, trying to stand. “Get off that fucking leg you twit,” he barked at her.

She shook her head. "You listen to me, Ban'du. You hear me, whether you want to or not. You want to call me family? Fine. But I am not special. I am just a broken soldier who follows orders. Your uncle told me to train you. And I did. But you don't dare put me before your mother. Not ever. Because I promise you that no one one this planet, or any other loves you the way she does. You got it?”

“I didn’t say you are before her,” he glared.

“Damned fucking straight.”

“But you are here, and when you look at me you don’t just see what you missed.”

“No. I see a man who is finally figuring himself out,” Silannah grabbed his shoulder, holding herself steady. Ælithil scowled. “Now. I will sit back down, if only to get that stupid look off your face.”

Ælithil sighed. “Gods you are a pain in the ass.”

She lowered herself, shaking. “Don't tell me you just figured that part out. I thought you were smarter than that.” 

“Pretty sure I got that on day one,” he replied bitterly. “When you had me bare knuckle fighting in the snow wearing only my undergarments and kicked me in the balls and then broke my arm.” Silannah’s eyes go somewhat blank suddenly and she started to pitch forward. Ælithil lurched forward to catch her. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her back into the bed gently. “For fel's sake, just lay down.” 

Silannah shakes as she lowers herself onto the pillow. “Dammit,” she mumbles. 

You are the toughest thing in all the land, now lay down and shut up.”

“Mocking me now?”

“No. Anyone else would be dead.” He watched her carefully. Silannah nodded.

“Is that water still warm,” she asked.

“I can heat it back up, what do you need?”

“Just something to drink, but warm would be nice...it's so cold in here.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin, shivering a little.

Ælithil furrowed his brow. “I'll make more tea.” He rose and moved to gather up the kettle. He set it back on the runestone to bring it back to a boil. 

“No…no…" she pleaded.

“Well it’s that or hot water….” 

“Is there…um…" she cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice even. “Is there any honey in Kajeda's little pot?”

Ælithil rummaged around the little containers on the table. Finally finding the one she meant, he looked inside. “Yeah.” The kettle started to whistle and he lifted it up, returning it to the table. 

“Some of that in water will be fine.”

“All right.” 

“The tea will make me need to use the out house. And I would prefer to limit the trips out there.”

Ælithil prepared a cup for her. “You're dehydrated, I doubt your body will give up fluids right now.”

“Perhaps. But please...just...just the water.” She shivered again, her hands visibly shaking. 

Ælithil held out the cup, looking very worried. “Here...” She reached for it. She wrapped her fingers around and tried to pull it away. Unsure of her grip, she brought her other hand up to support to. Ælithil knelt down, helping her guide the cup to her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered before taking a drink. “You are rather good at this...”

Ælithil shrugged. “I was a healer once...sort of.” He guided the cup for her to drink again. “In another life,” he whispered. 

“Hmmm,” she said, sighing. “Thank you for..well everything today, nephew.” He nodded curtly. “Sit, please.” She pointed to the bed. “Wherever you wish.” He sat quietly at the edge of the bed. She continued in a gentle way that was unlike her usual demeanor.  “I want you to understand something. It may seem like very little to you, for all you have been through. But I gave my word that I would take care of myself. And once I am able to, I will keep that word.” She shifted, wincing a moment before settling into a less uncomfortable position. “Este knows that it binds me, no matter what my own desires may be. It's why she forced it from me.” Ælithil listened, nodding slowly. “So no, I will not be leaving you. But I am,” She started shivering again. “I am going to need....” She grit her teeth and forced herself to be still. He watched her, his fear written across his features. “I will need your help.”

“I'll do anything you need,” he whispered, his eyes filled with tears. 

“Oh stop crying, Ban'du.” 

He sighed. “I have every right to be afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Losing you,” he answered sullenly. 

Silannah sighed. “I told you, I will keep my word.”

“You are badly injured,” he countered. “I wasn't kidding when I said most people would be dead.”

“Then you better find someone to fix me up,” she instructed. 

“That’s the plan, as soon as I can move you.” He nodded. 

“Ælithil...I cannot go anywhere for some time. It would be better if you rode to Everlook and sent for someone.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone,” he stated flatly. He stood and fussed over the blanket, making sure she was completely covered 

“I will survive the short time it would take you,” she chided him with a smirk. 

“Get some sleep.  I will go later after you wake again.”

Silannah nodded, conceding the point. “All right. Just...can you get another blanket? Or my coat? It's cold...”

“Yeah...” He crossed to the trunk near the far wall and opened it up. Pulling a heavy wool blanket out, he returned to her. He unfolded it and threw it over the bed.  Ælithil gestured over the runestone, instructing it to put out more heat. “Better?”

Silannah has softened down to a whisper.  “Yes...thank you.” He started to turn away when she called out to him again. “Æl?”

“Yeah?” He faces her again, concerned. 

“You smell like perfume,” she pointed out. Ælithil colored slightly. “You back to your old habits?”

Ælithil shook his head emphatically. “No, Shan'do.”

She nodded. “Because I would have to kick you in the balls again if you are.”

He smiled faintly. “I did meet someone....but...it wasn't like that. She's...nice”

“Oh?”

Ælithil flushed, “Yeah.” He smiled slightly. “I only just met her....we'll see what happens.”

Silannah shuddered a little. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” He looked confused at first. 

“You know what,” she prodded. He looked down, nodding quickly. Silannah chuckled. Her voice started to fade. “About time....” Ælithil blushed deep purple. “It's nice to see you blushing, instead of the other way around.”

“To be fair, she was doing it too.”

“Hmmmm,” she responded. “Well...you're a goner.” He glanced at her, looking sheepish. Silannah’s eyes close. “She's a Silverthorn...isn't she?” Her voice grows quieter with each word. 

“Maybe...it’s a little complicated,” he whispered. 

Silannah sighed and her breath grew more deep and even. “Tell me about.....” she drifted off to sleep mid sentence. 

Ælithil sighed, relieved. He gently squeezed her shoulder before finding his way to his corner of the cottage to rest. 

[the-roanoke-society]

Agent Succubus Origins

Coordinates Loading…

S.O.S signal Agent Whiskey code Roanoke…

“Whiskey?  What’s wrong?”  Ginger’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Get!---fucking---”

“Agent, your connection is breaking up I can’t access your feed.”

“I said we need Roanoke!  Are you fucking dumb and deaf?!  Roanoke!  They sent us into a fuckin’ den of bullshit that we aren’t qualified to handle!  I have a goddamn trainee with me, this was supposed to be a raid mission!”

“Understood.  Agent Seraphim and Lycan are on their way.” 

What was supposed to be a simple raid mission of an underground organization selling international intelligence and illegal/exotic goods had taken a nose dive.  Agent Whiskey and his trainee, Jason Bradshaw, who had taken the spot of Agent Tequila were now cornered in the dark compound and didn’t know if their fellow agents were alive or dead after the shit that had gone down.  The only upside being that the only suspect left and who was sending this demonic shit out to them was also trapped in the adjoining room.  The stand-off had lasted hours, both parties exhausted and just as there was a lull in the hell hounds and nightmarish visions the Roanoke agents finally made it in carrying supplies. 

“Sorry we’re late!  I had to bless all of this on the way here and you would not BELIEVE the way Phoenix flies that chopper when it was supposed to be his night off and he gets called in whooo, thought I was gonna die for sure, sweet lord.  But! I have some salt rounds and rope, wasn’t sure what to prepare for!”  Seraphim grinned at the two like they weren’t on the verge of a complete breakdown.

“Thank God y’all are here.  Fuckin’ get us outta here I cain’t-”  Tequila began but was cut off with Whiskey grabbing his shirt collar and giving him a solid punch to the jaw.   

“You gon’ let those fuckin’ weirdos come in here and do YOUR mission, boy?  Stop bein’ a pussy and get in there and fuckin’ take down whatever’s been causing us grief.  You were a rodeo clown, right?  Go get em” Whiskey shoved what Agent Seraphim had called Binding Rope into his hands.

With a shotgun loaded with blessed rock salt rounds the trainee pushed through the grimy door to come face to face with… a girl?  Dark clothing ripped and soiled from the confrontation that had taken place for the past 3 hours, buzzed hair giving off an intimidating vibe.  As she pointed a hand at him and opened her mouth to shout what he figured was another curse, he took the shot.  It caught her square in the chest, sending her to the floor with a strained gasp.  Tequila kicked her over and kneeled down to begin tying her hands together, but as soon as the witch felt her power decrease with the rope she hissed and jerked.

“Unless you want another buckshot of fucking rock salt in the back a your thighs you best stop fidgeting.”  Tequila panted, his knee pressed into the girls neck as she stared at him with wide eyes filled pure rage.

“Fuck you, hunter” She weezed, movements ceasing.

Hunter? “Ya, that’s what I thought.  Fucking witches, this was supposed to be my first goddamn mission, ya know?  And I get stuck rustlin’ a fuckin’ witch.”

He sat back on his heels to catch his breath and gave her ass a tired slap as if she were some fucking pig he had finally caught.  So, really when she was able to twist around and kick him in the face, he deserved it, but that didn’t stop his anger from boiling up again.

“Alright, I was gon’ just let ya walk on outta here with me with some dignity, but fuck that.”  The blood running down his chin from the broken nose dotted the white rope as he bent her legs back and looped the rest of the rope around her ankles, hog tying her.

Even with her chest wound the witch began a raw, ear splitting scream that shook him to his core, like a wild animal at its last few minutes of life.  The bandana from his pocket silenced that after he was finally able to get it around her head.  She had never felt more infuriated or humiliated in her entire life, this fucking cowboy was going to pay when she got out of this rope, she was going to ruin his fucking life.

“Now, I can either carry ya out… or you can keep on bein’ a fuckin’ bitch and I can drag ya.  So, which is, it gonna be sugar?”

 A few moments later Tequila emerged from the room with a witch thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes looking pretty smug despite the blood drying on his face and soaking into his shirt from her rock salt wound.  Whiskey bent down to get a good look at her and whistled.

“Oh, boy she is fuckin’ furious, ain’t she?  I can’t wait to see what Roanoke comes up with ta get rid of you.”

If being carried out of the compound wasn’t embarrassing enough now she found herself being paraded through an agency.  The one everyone referred to as Tequila and or Jason, was getting slaps on the back and congratulations on his first completed mission, usually followed by a comment about what a good “catch” she was.

“Boy, what the hell are you doin?  Put that girl down now.”

The rope was cut and replaced with rune inscribed cuffs as she stood in front of an older gentleman in a cowboy hat and a flawless woman that practically oozed power.  These guys were not hunters, something was going on here.  Monitors behind the two were filled with videos and information about her, including live feed of what had happened during his mission.  The woman spoke to her first.

“My name is Lilith.  You’re in Kentucky at the Statesman Head Quarters and Distillery, also home to the Roanoke Society, have you heard of us?”

She nodded slowly, “Roanoke stopped a pack of weres from getting executed last month in New York.  We couldn’t get there in time so we were thankful.”

“So, you know we aren’t here to hurt you?  Really I’m very impressed with how well your group covered up an underground Cryptid Protection facility by selling Russian secrets and pretending to be a Black Market.  However, I am even more impressed with you…”  She turned to the monitors now.

“Rae Clementine.  Clean record.  Good marks in school.  And these videos, well I must say it does take quite the sorcerer to perform Necromancy.  How did such a small town witch like you end up in a mess like this, hm?”

The witch had only been half listening because her eyes were glued to a corner of the screen where a video that she thought had been scrubbed from the internet was playing on a loop.  Rae, first year of college drenched in kerosene and tied to a tree outside of campus as a frat boy ex-boyfriend kneeled in front of her with a match in her face and his friends stood around watching.  There was no sound, but she could still hear the taunting laughter, feel the thick liquid dripping down her face and suffocating her as she screamed. 

“I wanted to make a difference, protect people no one else thinks of protecting.”

Lilith followed her eyes to the video just as the boy snuffed out the match and left her tied to the tree where she would remain for another five hours until a jogger found her, “It is a pity what men do to things they can’t control…Of course, for your illegal actions we would have to send you to prison, our Siberian location most likely, but Champ and I know potential when we see it.”

Champ gave her a grandfather like smile, “turns out Roanoke could use an agent with your skills.  We’d be happy to offer you a position instead of prison, you’d still need to go through the trainin’ a ‘course, but Lilith says you got a good heart and that’s all I need ta hear.”

“So, what’s it going to be poppet?”

Rae anticipated either a laugh or that they were joking, but as they stayed silent and waited for her to reply she finally realized it was real, this was a chance of a lifetime, a chance to actually make a difference and help the world.

“Yes.  Thank you, yes.  I’ll work off everything I may have caused damage to, I’ll uncurse all the agents I thought were hunters.  Oh shit I broke someone’s fucking nose I need to apologize-”

Needless to say several Statesman agents were none too pleased when they found out that the one who had cursed them all with nightmares and bedwetting was being made an agent.  Tequila in particular felt like he had been cheated out of a trophy for his first mission, but the warm smile and apology she gave sure did help to soothe it.

Two months later Roanoke inducted their newest member, Agent Succubus.  Specializing in gritty, old school Witchcraft with an emphasis on mind manipulation, great for interrogations was what Champ had said. 

Two weeks after that she was getting tied up by Tequila again, only this time it was mutual.   

[imagine-loki]

Title- Abandoned

Title : Abandoned

Chapter no/One-shot- Part 3 

Author: StarryNight35/StarryNightFantasies 

Original Imagine: Imagine Loki witness a person abandoning a pet, he pays little heed at first, humans, of course, are fickle creatures, but on hearing the human use words like “runt” and “worthless” something in him stirs. Looking into the box human has dumped the animal in, he realises it is a small black furball. 

Rating: G (Some Language) 

Notes/Warnings: Some languages- A few F-bombs 

You can read it on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12152160/chapters/27743847

As soon as they were outside the store, Steve called Tony to beg for a ride back to the tower. There was just no way the three of them were going to make it back with all of their purchases and a kitten in tow. Tony hadn’t wanted to let a critter inside any of his vehicles, and neither had Fury, but when their situation compromised the team, they relented, deciding prejudices weren’t as important as security. 

When Tony arrived, he parked Fury’s SUV in the fire lane and opened his window to find Loki and Bucky standing on the sidewalk playing with Fennie. The two of them each had a different toy- both covered in ridiculous feathers and bells- and were teasing her until she batted at either. Whichever toy she chose was considered the “winner." 

"Oh hells bells, Steve. Don’t tell me they're both in love with her.”

Steve simply smiled and called for them to load up. 

“Okay, before we leave- Did you get a litter box?” Tony asked Loki. 

“Of course we did, Stark. Isn’t that why we came here?" 

"It’s an automatic!” Bucky said, excitedly. 

  When they reached the tower, Loki began assembling the feces collector, as he called it, as Tony stood over his shoulder. Tony’s constant stream of comments about Loki’s mechanical abilities was starting to wear on the god, but he kept his mouth shut for Fennie’s sake. He knew that one wrong word would be enough reason in Tony’s eyes to make him change his mind. 

“I could make this better. I could make this so much better,” Tony remarked. 

Loki rolled his eyes and turned to look at the metal man. 

“And why would you bother making a ‘shit box,’ as you so eloquently referred to it, better Stark?" 

"Because I can,” Stark replied haughtily.

  Two hours later, Fennie’s litter box not only automatically rid itself of soiled litter, it also refilled itself with state-of-the-art, biodegradable litter that had been reprocessed through a filter that Tony had added himself. 

“Sheesh Tony, were you that bored?" 

Loki looked up to see the archer standing in the doorway of Stark’s laboratory. He wasn’t too comfortable with Clint, not only because of the way he’d reacted when Loki had first arrived, but because of the way he continued to badger Loki.

Loki had made a solid effort to apologize to the archer after using his scepter to control him during the battle, even going so far as to offer to do his bidding for several days- basically what Clint had done for him. Even though the things Clint had done were a far cry from what Loki would have to do.

It was completely against Loki’s nature to do anything of the sort, but Banner had suggested the offer as a way to 'heal relations with those he hurt.’ However in the end, the archer hadn’t accepted, and Loki now realized he would simply have to put up with whatever verbal abuse Clint could throw at him. 

"I am simply offended by inferior technology, Barton,” Stark replied. 

“I’m offended by the fact that the prisoner gets to have a pet.” The archer glared at Loki. 

Loki rolled his eyes.

Bucky had been standing in the corner watching Tony in awe, but now wore a scowl. 

“Wait. This is inferior technology?! I had to scoop cat shit by hand! This is a masterpiece!" 

"It is now,” Stark said without humor. 

  Loki hadn’t been joking when he said he would turn himself into a cat for Fennie’s sake. In fact, later that night, he ended up doing just that. But it wasn’t because she wanted to play and had exhausted all of her options for toys. They had bought loads of cat toys.

Loki had given her a dish of milk in hopes that she would calm down enough to allow him to rest. However, as soon as he tried to turn the lights off, she began to whine. 

“What’s wrong darling? Is your bed not comfortable?" 

Steve had laughed at Loki for choosing ’the single most ostentatious cat bed in the store,’ but Fennie was his baby now, so he could do what he wanted. Besides, prisoner or no, Loki had money. He was a prince after all. 

Lifting Fennie from her bed, Loki cradled her in his arms and noticed that she shivered. It broke his heart. He knew she wasn’t cold- her body was as warm as a tiny heater. So she must be frightened. 

"What can I do, love? You’re so tiny…and you must miss your mother. To be quite honest, and only because I know you can’t tell anyone, I miss mine too." 

A bit of Loki’s hair hung down close enough for Fennie to reach, and she rubbed her face against it. It was then that Loki realized how he would calm her nerves. 

"I may not smell like your mother, but perhaps I can feel like her?" 

Loki set Fennie down on the duvet, made sure his bedroom door was locked, and concentrated all of his Seidr inward. Seconds later, Fennie had a very different sleep mate; a black long-haired cat with piercing green eyes. Laying down next to her, he gently brushed his newly formed paw over her back and she curled into his side and fell fast asleep; purring the entire time. 

  "Loki!” 

Someone was banging on his bedroom door. 

“Come ON, man…let me in. I want to play with Fennie too!”

Bucky. 

Bucky was banging on his door, and he was still in cat form. And Fennie was already at the door, scratching to be let out.

“He shouldn’t have his door locked in the first place,” Stark muttered. “I can fix this." 

Oh Hel.

The lock tumbled, the doorknob turned, and the door was open. 

Loki was on his feet, but that was all he could do. Evidently, cats were very sleepy creatures. He hadn’t counted on that. His eyes were glued shut, his back was arched, and he stretched involutarily. Yawning as wide as his mouth would open, he forced himself to focus on the scene around him…

"Why the fuck are there two cats in here? And where the hell is Loki?” Stark yelled. 

Suddenly, there were Avengers everywhere. In a panic, Loki tried to answer, but all that came out was a low hiss, so he leapt off of the bed and did his best to concentrate on returning to normal. 

“Is he missing? How the hell did he get out?!" 

”FUCK! I knew this would happen!“ 

Natasha…Clint…Bruce…Steve… Some of them were kinder than others- realizing that there must be something else going on; something besides the immediate conclusion that the 'supervillain’ had escaped. Loki idly wondered how long that reputation would last… or if it would last forever. Would he ever shake it here on Midgard? 

Focus. 

The voices all ran together while Loki gathered the magical energy he needed, and a few seconds later, he was standing on two feet again and fully capable of answering them himself. 

”Norns. Calm down. Why would I try to escape without her? I fell asleep trying to comfort her…“ 

  In the relative silence that followed, it was Bucky that finally spoke- through a fit of laughter. 

"You- you… You really did turn yourself into a— a cat!”

He howled and doubled over in the doorway. No one else was amused, the least of all Tony, who was glaring at Loki as if he had insulted his mother just before bragging about sleeping with Pepper. 

“You’re damn lucky I didn’t push the fucking panic button, Loki. If I had, we would have the Air Force swarming the tower right now, and I can’t promise they would let you live afterwards,” Stark shouted.

Loki merely rolled his eyes, knowing Stark would rather saw off his own dick than not be the hero when something bad happens- like his escape from the tower. Tony wouldn’t call the military unless it was the absolute last option. 

“Sure, Stark. We all know you’d never call them. You would rather risk your life and everyone else’s to play the hero,” Natasha muttered. 

Loki was certain Stark didn’t hear her because he didn’t react, but Loki had, and he could definitely use more leverage in this place. He cocked his eyebrow at her, subtly letting her know that she had been heard. 

  “Now that the panic is over, can you all just back out of my room? This has all been a bit of a shock for poor Fennie,” Loki said; rolling his eyes yet again on the word panic. 

Stark stepped closer to him. “Wait just a damn minute. Are you telling me that I’m going to have to put up with two of you running around here destroying property?" 

Loki looked confused for a moment, so Bucky interrupted. "Oh, I don’t think Fennie will destroy anything.”

When Loki looked up at the soldier, he felt a stab of jealousy as he realized that Fennie was curled up in Bucky’s arms. Bucky stroked her fur as she lay against his metal arm.

Then he had a completely different thought… at least if the Air Force did gun him down, someone at the tower cared about Fennie almost as much as he did. Although the likelihood of any Midgardian weapon having that kind of firepower was slim. 

  Hours later, after Loki had played with nearly every toy Fennie possessed; and Bucky had decided that the laser pointer was definitely the best one, they sat in the common room watching the tiny kitten eat her weight in cat food.

Loki had wanted to buy her the best he could find, even asking the sales people if they had anything better than Fancy Feast or 'this Midgardian gruel you feed your varmints.’ In the end, he’d only managed to piss off everyone he came in contact with, so Steve and Bucky made the final decision; painstakingly explaining every ingredient listed on each brand so Loki knew he was giving Fennie the best possible nutrition. 

“So James, may I ask you a question?”

Bucky knew that Loki only used his first name when he was about to ask him a very serious question, or piss him off royally. He braced himself for impact. 

“Uh, yeah… I guess.” He closed his eyes and waited, knowing Loki had a tendency to say things in the worst possible way.

“You said you had a cat, and it…passed a long time ago, correct?” Loki muttered.

“Yeah, man. Why?”

“How long… I mean, did it live a good, long life?”

Loki was almost stumbling over his words, which was completely out of character for him. He was always sharp as a tack, and Bucky didn’t know where this line of questioning was going.

“Well, if I remember correctly- I mean it was a long time ago, Loki- she was around fourteen years old when she died. Old age. Nothing too terrible. She just… didn’t wake up one morning. But I knew it was going to happen soon. She was having a hard time walking… her joints were achy… sometimes I had to help her up…" 

"That’s enough,” Loki interrupted. He wasn’t being harsh, but Bucky could tell he was upset. 

“What did I say? I don’t… oh. Oh, I get it. That’s such a short time for you. I guess I shouldn’t have told you." 

Loki looked down at Fennie, who was still slurping up wet food. Why did everything on this planet have to be so fleeting? Human lives were so short, but he had never considered feline lives would be even shorter. He smiled sadly for a moment, but decided if she only had fourteen years, he would make them the best fourteen years ever.

"No, I’m glad you did. It just means I have to make the most of my time with her. Or find a way to stop her aging. I doubt Idunn’s apples work on felines though.”

  Suddenly, something hit the countertop in between them. It was one of Fennie’s fluffy kitten toys. Loki looked up and scowled at Stark, who was standing in the kitchen; a tall glass in one hand and Fennie’s laser pointer in the other. 

“Hey, you know I can make every one of these toys better, right?” Stark yelled from the kitchen. 

Loki rolled his eyes at Bucky. Stark was always completely oblivious to serious conversations happening around him. He just barreled through the area like a rolling cannon. 

“Let’s let him do it. Fennie deserves the best,” Bucky grinned. 

[godpool]

Rainfall and Sparks

A story following two partners on the last few legs of their mission.

“Laet, I’m going to the gas station,” Evan said as she walked out of the bathroom.

The room was brightly illuminated by the lamps sitting on both sides of the bedside table. Their soft yellow glow casting warmth into the drab grey interior of the hotel room, forming shadows on her companion’s face.

“It’s going to rain soon. Here,” Laet procured a small black umbrella from her travel bag, “take this.”

Evan accepted the umbrella with a small kiss, her long pale body hidden within her oversized sweatpants and jumper. She stood in the centre of the room, overlooking Laet. Her keys and trinkets jingling as she fiddled around in her pocket. “I’ll be on the intercom,” she said as she moved her reddy-brown hair out of her eyes, exposing her thick unkempt eyebrows.

Laet rolled her eyes as she continued to ruffle through her bag. “Could you stop using my underwear? You have your own,” she complained.

“Buy your own,” she shouted as Evan stepped out into the hallway, the sound of her footsteps lessening as the door clicked behind her. The corners of Laet’s mouth twitched upwards.

The room was quiet for only a second before it was awash with the rampant sounds of the daily life of eastern Verde. The sounds of cars aching on past through the peak hour traffic, the abrupt beeping of impatient drivers in the distance and the chirping and cawing of birds milling about in the trees brushing against the open windows.

Laet inhaled deeply as the fresh, earthy air outside seeped into the room. The breeze was cool and kind against her flushed skin. Twisting her mouth, Laet picked up the intercom lying beside her thigh and played with the buttons until came forth the familiar mix of different ringing tones meshed together.

Biiiiiiip… Briiiiiiing…

“Routing your call,” a mechanical voice intoned. Then silence.

“Uhhh, Agent Jugshit in the clear, over,” somebody staggered out. It was an impressive imitation of their coworker back home, Agent Dennis.

A husky voice could be heard on the other side of the intercom, his voice accompanied by the repeated clicking of a keyboard. “Oh shut up, Evan. You couldn’t be me even if you wanted,” Dennis snarked.

A different man snorted and soon, conversation was booming as her coworkers mercilessly teased each other. The two men on the line, Agents Dennis and Isaiah, were monitoring their target’s location all the way back from their home base in Lokaus.

The bickering of her companions faded into background noise as Laet continued to organise her garb for the night ahead. For when they would be called to approach and subdue Simon Kousch, a government operative that went rogue. Paid the Lokaus government's benevolence back with theft.

Laet spent hours on her flight over to Verde imagining what the Golden Eagle could be, and why its retrieval was so vital. Potentially a hard drive containing undisclosed files and unsanctioned cases, Laet mused. Cases like this one, perhaps?

She stood up and sat on the bed, bringing a small audio recorder onto her lap as she untangled its wires. Then again, does it even matter? “Evan, are you there y-?” She was interrupted by the ringing of a store entrance.

“Yeah, I’ve just entered the servo now, actually,” Evan replied distractedly.

There was a lull in the conversation. Laet itched the base of her scalp as she picked up a minuscule brown brick lying beside her clothes. It felt solid and heavy in her grasp, the ridges on its side helping her grip the device with ease. Laet lifted it higher and looked at its curved tip, the rounded glossy edge reflecting her brown face.

She methodically tightened her fingers around the device. A strong buzzing sound erupted from it, causing sparks of brown light to come from within its glossy black tip. Her hand shook from the vibration. She put it down, satisfied. “Just testing the brick,” Laet murmured.

Isaiah hummed in response.

Soon, the crinkling of plastic rang through the intercom. Dennis and Isaiah collectively sighed.

Evan clicked her tongue. “Listen, you signed up for this,” she said. The crinkling intensified. “You knew that working at The Warehouse meant that you could no longer have deliciously sour and savoury junk,” she drawled out, her grin practically transparent through the call.

“Sucks,” Laet said. “How about you get me some sour cream and chives and,” she said dragging the last word, “some Starbursts.”

“The big packet?” said Evan.

Laet scoffed. “When is it not?”

Dennis sighed once more. “Must be nice,” he said glumly.

Laet smiled, able to perfectly envision the sad, gloomy look in Dennis’ eyes as he said that. His elbow resting on the black bench with his palm smooshed into his cheek, his youthful brown skin making the sight all the more pitiful. They could hear Isaiah patting Dennis on the back and Laet rolled her eyes.

The clicking of a mouse rang through as Isaiah spoke up. “We have new intel for you.”

“Our overlords bless us,” Laet deadpanned.

Isaiah continued, “Simon’s at —and make sure you write this down—”

“Give me a second,” Evan muttered. “Alright, shoot.”

“The Hilltop Marquee up in Lower East, room 22 on the fourth floor. You got that down?”

Evan hummed.

Laet frowned. “Marquee?”

“It's a historical thing, I guess,” Dennis said.

“Why now?” Evan’s voice was faint, overshadowed by the tittering and chatter of women near her. They waited as Evan exchanged a few words with somebody before continuing on her way, the ringing of the store door behind her as she stepped back onto the roadside pavement towards their hotel.

“He's in contact with another high-level target,” Isaiah said.

“And that's a bad thing,” Dennis interjected. “You need to subdue Simon this nightfall, as planned.”

Laet picked up a light brown knife and rested it on her forearm, the blade tip near the crook of her elbow. The knife blended in well with her caramel skin, with only the serrated edge glinting.

“I'll send you the digitised perimeter of the area,” Isaiah said.

Laet removed the knife from her arm and leant over the bed, her fingers searching for a thin laptop just underneath. She grasped it and positioned herself back on the bed, the laptop already logged in.

The cursor began to move across the screen without her control and opened an application. It was an animated live feed of outside of the Hotel Marquee. The graphics were limited, comprising primarily of black line drawings and small red circles indicating civilians and hotel staff.

Laet zoomed into the hotel and clicked onto the entrance door of the hotel. The application adjusted itself so that the entirety of the first floor was in frame on the screen. Laet leaned towards the monitor as she scanned the screen. “Would I be foolish to assume that Simon’s indicator is distinct from the non-targets?”

“Yes,” Isaiah affirmed. “His is a yellow star one-point-seven times larger than the other indicators.”

“He's not currently there, but we have eyes on him,” Dennis said. “We expect him to be back later this evening.”

Laet clicked the toolbar up top of the application and the live feed changed to focus onto that of the second floor. Her mouth was pursed as she watched two small red circles walking down a hallway and into what she assumed to be a closet, their indicators coming so close together they almost appeared to merge into one. “He's in for a world of hurt tonight,” Laet muttered.

“That he definitely is,” Evan said softly.

Silence fell once more on the intercom.

The rain was not ideal. The sun had long gone past the horizon, leaving only dark blue skies blanketing above them. Harsh winds pelted raindrops against the sides of their face, the seeping chill of the rain distracting the women. But this was what they’d been working towards for months. They were tougher than smack of the raindrops, or the biting sting of the wind against their fingers and eyes.

The gravel below them gleamed with water and mud, their footsteps creating small splashes as Evan and Laet slunk towards the rear of the Hilltop Marquee. They inched towards the back, warily eyeing the small cliff adjacent to the hotel that leads down to a murky abyss.

This side of the hotel was empty. There were a few lights embedded in the wall barely illuminating the small stone steps underneath various grey doors. There were dozens of small balconies peering towards the sea overhead. Their intricate spiral design almost lost in the darkness.

Laet adjusted the cuffs on her glove before walking towards the building, raising her head as she regarded the balcony above her. They were fairly high above ground, almost double the height of Evan. “Anybody in there?” Laet asked. “We’re looking at the second floor, room 4.”

There was a brief pause of static on the intercom before Isaiah responded. His voice was clipped. “All clear.”

Evan cracked and released the pressure in her knuckles before bending her knees, jumping high into the air before grabbing the railing. Her arms were pressed flush against her body as she held herself up with only her hands, her feet finding anchorage on the balcony floor before throwing a leg and manoeuvring herself over it onto both feet.

Laet followed suit and jumped after her, her right hand slipping on the slick metal railing. She immediately grabbed at the horizontal bar underneath the top railing, gritting her teeth as her hand began slipping once more. Her left hand tightened in place as she swung her feet beneath her, using the momentum to heave her feet right at the edge of the balcony. Tightening her grip once more, Laet hauled herself upright until both hands were clutching the rail and threw herself over.

Evan simply tilted her head as Laet faced, causing Laet to flush. Those farting gloves.

Laet opened her mouth to speak before coming to a halt as Evan pulled down the lip of her scarf and wiped away at the trickle of snot slinking down and pooling into her philtrum. “You’re disgusting,” Laet grimaced before looking inside the room through the glass balcony door.

As she moved away from the direct wind and rainfall, Laet noticed the slight static in the intercom. “Isaiah? Can you still hear me?”

The time it took until Isaiah next spoke was uncomfortably long. “Yeah, I can. The system is getting a bit garbled, so bear with me.”

“Is the third floor clear, either room 10 or 11?” Evan asked as she played with the straps of her backpack crisscrossing over her stomach.

The static continued as Isaiah’s voice peeked through, unusually small. “All clear.”

The two followed each other upwards, angling their body over the edge of the hotel as they stood atop the balcony. They climbed onto the third floor, using the horizontal rails to inch upwards, their feet dangling freely in the air.

The two were grinning as they twisted themselves over the railing and onto solid ground. “That was some straight up spy shit,” Evan laughed.

Laet playfully nudged at her before resting her backside on the railing, asking once more: “Fourth floor, room 25?”

“Negative. Go to room 24,” Isaiah replied, his voice warbling in and out.

The static then went out, along with sound completely on the intercom. Evan and Laet looked at each other, their eyes wide at the silence in their ear. Laet lifted up the edge of her beanie and tapped at the intercom, half expecting it to turn back on.

Evan knelt down and unclasped the buckles of her backpack and placed it on a section of dry pavement. She opened the smallest zipper in the front and withdrew a small mobile-like device, then stuck her intercom into a small output parallel to the screen. The screen came alit, displaying various numbers and symbols.

“What’s wrong with it?” Laet asked as she peered towards the ground, keeping guard. She whipped her head as light shone through the curtains of the room to their left, room 26.

Evan’s fingers continued sliding on the screen, her gaze briefly flickering to the room now alive with people. “I don’t know,” Evan said slowly.

The hair on Laet’s arms stood up at that. Technology was not an area she excelled at or had any desire to, preferring to leave that to the others while she focused on the more physical nature of her job. But it was during times like this that Laet wished she’d bit the bullet and learnt all she could about the equipment she would be using. This time I swear I’ll actually do it, Laet promised.

Evan soon retracted the intercom from the device and placed it snugly back into her ear. She returned the device and took out a small tablet in its place, quickly readjusting the backpack around her body. “It’s out for good,” Evan said. “I can’t connect back to the base.”

“We don’t even know what we’re looking for!” Laet said in a hushed whisper. “Shit!” She pictured herself kicking her foot in frustration, imagining the painful vibration reverberating up her leg and into her hip, hearing the sole of her boot grating against pavement. She kept still.

“We’re going to have to go on without them.” Evan fiddled around with the tablet until the live feed of the hotel was on the display. “Gotta jump the next two balconies to get to Simon.” Evan strode to the end of the balcony and gestured forward. “We’ll capture him and transport him to a safe location until we can contact  The Warehouse.”

Laet wrapped a hand above Evan’s elbow as she started making her way over the railing. “This is not a good idea, we can’t just go off script-” Laet hesitated as Evan gave her a look, her hand slowly sliding off, “-not to this degree. The extraneous variables are off the charts.”

Evan lowered her scarf and sighed, a small cloud of warm air rising between them. She stepped closer, her eyes beseeching for Laet to reason. “We’ve had to abort missions so many times, Laet, this will get us fucking nixed. We can’t let him escape again, they’ll ruin us.”

“So what are we going to do once we’ve gotten him? What then?”

“We’ll improvise, just like we’ve been taught to.”

Laet remained silent, her eyes trained heavily on the other woman’s. She could hear the sound of an emergency vehicle wailing past the hotel and down the street, along with the crashing of the waves nearby. She pressed her lips together, rolling it before stepping back. “Okay,” she murmured.

Nodding, Evan lowered her scarf further and placed the tablet between her lips, stepping over the fence and onto to the edge of the balcony. The balcony of room 24 was about five meters away, not absurdly far at all, giving Evan all the more assurance to leap over with Laet following behind. The rushing of the wind masked their presence.

The doors of this balcony were closed yet the transparent curtains revealed the happenings inside. Laet spared them a glance, finding an older man and woman dancing together at the foot of their bed, the soft hum of instrumentals wafting out from the room. Evan and Laet didn’t bother crouching as they passed the wide doors, knowing that the intensity of the light inside the room would conceal them against the darkness of the night.

They were soon huddled at the balcony door of room 22, the gritty wall flush against their backs. Evan held the tablet as she glanced at the screen once more, her brows coming together at the star indicator’s sporadic movement on the live feed.

The blinds were closed, but again this meant little as the light from Simon’s quarters spilt out across the balcony, leaving two triangular slivers of darkness. Evan peeked into the room and saw a man, Simon, hunched over at the side of his bed. “He’s got his back turned,” she whispered. Evan gestured her head towards the other side of the door and waited as Laet got into position.

She looked once more inside to make sure Simon was not facing them, and when clear, stood up from her crouch to reach for the handle, opening the door just a fraction. The two women stared inside as he got up off the floor and shoved a vintage mobile phone into the backpack he was clutching. This continued for many minutes, with Evan and Laet readying to enter the room only for Simon to face the balcony.

Finally, as Simon’s bag was filling up and the room became emptier, Simon ducked down underneath the computer desk and started meticulously rooting around in the rubbish can.

Evan swung the door open, the hinges of the door easing along, allowing Laet slip in unnoticed. Evan kept silent as the static on the intercom suddenly returned, albeit almost mute, watching as Laet stalked up to Simon. She closed the door behind herself, the soft thudding of the door causing him to turn and fall onto his backside in alarm.

Laet kicked the underside of his jaw before he could register, sending him to the floor clutching his face. “Argh!” he groaned, before twisting left of Laet’s lunge, quickly getting onto his feet.

A smiling Evan greeted him with a sweep of the legs, causing him to stumble back onto the bed. As Evan approached him, he kicked out his legs and slammed into her torso before rolling over to the other side of the bed, only to find himself flanked. Laet was scowling as she faced him, her fingers twitching on the grip of her small brown brick.

Simon felt Laet kick his groin, leaving him to clutch at the metal cup between his thighs for only a second. So much for being prepared, he berated himself. He could see her eyebrows raising in surprise before she smacked the side of his head, leaving him disoriented.

Fingers gripped at his loose turquoise t-shirt from behind, digging painfully into the soft flesh of his neck as he was pushed back on the bed. Laet quickly straddles his thighs, restraining his movement, a stony expression on her face.

Simon gazed wretchedly into her eyes as Laet forcefully pressed the brick into his chest and squeezed the grip, watching detachedly as the glossy tip came to life, sending powerful sparks into his body. His body twitched violently underneath her but Laet kept the sparks going, stopping only when Simon fell unconscious.

Laet retracted her grip and glanced up at Evan. “Live feed?” As she was sliding off his limp body, the intercom in both their ears ringing static at a lower pitch.

They both whipped their gazes to each other as the volume of the static descended and eventually Isaiah’s voice penetrated through. “-....Agents, come in. Can you hear me?”

“Yes! Yes, we can hear you,” Evan responded immediately, relief plastered over her face.

Laet pulled off her scarf and parka, the heat of the room slowly suffocating her. “We’ve subdued Simon, and we’re in the clear,” she said. “We need to know what we’re looking for, buddy.”

Isaiah was furiously clicking away on his keyboard, “you’re looking for three small gold balls.”

“Real small,” a foreign voice piped in.

Laet and Evan exchanged a confused look.

“They’re identical, golden balls that have irregular spiralled edges,” Isaiah said.

Evan began digging through his backpack, gingerly taking out Simon’s clothing and inspecting it. Laet focused her attention on Simon, patting him down before removing his clothing.

“Who would’ve guessed,” Laet said softly.

Evan’s eyes flickered to Laet, keeping silent.

The two continued on for a while, with Evan filling in Isaiah and the foreign voice, a lady called Maria, on the happenings during their disconnect, watching as Laet grew frustrated as she finished her search on Simon. Laet eventually moved onto checking the bathroom for the Golde- balls, when Evan looked over Simon’s body once more. His t-shirt was bunched into a ball nesting in the crook of his neck along with his mismatching socks, his belt buckle not yet re-clasped.

The pads of Evan’s fingers ghosted across Simon’s torso, searching for any irregular protrusions. Her fingers inched up his pectoral muscle, her index finger ghosting over the indent of his armpit. A slight bump.

Evan kept her finger still as she marked the area with a waterproof marker from her backpack. She could hear the hollow thud of the toilet seat falling down and its following clink as Laet repositioned it back up. Didn’t think it’d play out like this, she thought grimly as she bent over and unsheathed a syringe on her calf.

She breathed in deeply, drowning her thoughts out with white noise as she turned around and stalked towards Laet.

It was early morning by the time Laet came to, judging by the pale blue sunlight streaming into the room. She tried to turn around but was stopped by a sharp, stinging pain on the side of her neck. Laet lifted her head and tentatively touched the source of the pain, surprised when her fingers come back free of blood.

Every muscle in her body was cramping as Laet blearily threw her legs over the side of the bed, and groggily took in the cold tray of food before her. Beside her feet lay her weapons and a busted recorder rested upon her parka and scarf. That’s when it all came rushing back to her.  

Simon. The Golden Eagle. Evan.

Evan.

Laet jumped up and grabbed her serrated knife, cautiously surveying the hotel room. Empty. Just… cold empty rooms. The tiles were cold underfoot as Laet stepped into the bathroom, noticing the lack of toiletries or mess near the sink. All the cupboards were empty. The floor was clean and nothing was left underneath the bed.

She swallowed painfully as her fingertips eased around the sliding door of the wardrobe. Her heart was in her throat for a single second at the brief glimpse of something in the wardrobe. Yet that something turned out to simply be coat racks and their corresponding plastic jackets.

It was then that it really sunk in. Laet kicked the door in frustration, refusing to acknowledge the hurt encompassing her.

She could feel her skin itching underneath her sweaty clothes, eager to tear apart her own skin. Despairing thoughts desperately trying to squeeze out of her tear ducts and onto the mess she was stuck in. Instead, Laet untied the messy bun holding her permed hair, ignoring her sick desire to pull at the strands until they fall loose, and pulled it into a taut ponytail. Don’t lose it.

Laet turned around to eye the meal on the table. The adrenaline she initially felt was waning so all she could do was stare at the tray of food before her. It was was a small dish of fūl - Evan’s favourite food. Said it reminded her of home, of better days- paired with Lebanese bread and small saucers of dips, one of which she knew was hummus.

What stole her attention, however, was a small piece of paper isolated on the far side of the tray. She would recognise that scrawny writing even on her deathbed. That brought her pause.

Laetti,

I’m sorry. 

446 350 846 090

Growling, Laet scrunched up the paper and rocketed it towards the bin. Her lip curled as the sheet twirled around above the bin before gliding to the floor, meters away from the bin.

She fell onto the bed, her hands covering her face. Betrayal radiated from her chest and coursed through her body, turning hurt into anger, anger back into hurt, and hurt into numbness.

She lay like that for some time. The light outside intensifying and casting a golden glow into the room, memories of the last few months playing unbidden in her mind. Looking for signs that she missed.

Laet eventually roused from her detached state with an old familiarity, halfheartedly grasping at her bundle of stuff on the floor. After righting the equipment and concealing it underneath her clothes, Laet placed the intercom into her ear and dialled for The Warehouse.

Briiiiiiing…

Weird not hearing two dial tones.

“Routing your-,”

The Warehouse immediately connected to the call, cutting off the automated robot. “Agent Laet, please update us on the current events,” Dennis demanded.

Laet steeled her back but could not control the wavering of her brows, desperate to furrow. “Agent Evan is a threat. She incapacitated me last night as we were searching Simon’s hotel quarters. Both Simon and Agent Evan are unaccounted for, along with all his belongings and the Golden Eagle.”

She could hear Dennis, along with other members of their team cursing in the background.

“I’ll need an extraction team. I don’t know what she’s playing at, or if she’s working for somebody, what they’re working at. I’ll discuss things further when I get back. Just make sure I can see The Doctors as soon as possible,” Laet finished. She rubbed a hand over her face, the crusts in her eyes scraping at her skin and causing her to wince.

“Done,” Dennis said. His voice took on an odd lilt, laced heavily with concern, “what damage did you sustain?”

“She injected me with something that induced sleep extremely quickly. My neck is absolutely sore and I feel like I’ve fallen off a cliff onto a very unreceptive rock,” Laet said tiredly.

“Just get back to the airport, we’ll deal with everything else,” an unfamiliar young voice said. He sounded young, his both friendly and confident.

Laet frowned at the young man, unable to shake the feeling that nothing good awaited her back home at Lokaus. “Okay,” she said keeping her voice steady. “I’ll see you guys later.” Click.

With nothing left to do, Laet simply stared at the front door before moving to the side. She grabbed the scrunched up piece of paper lying on the floor and hid it inside the pocket of her parka, refusing to acknowledge the implications of what she was doing.

She quickly descended to the first floor, hiding her face from the lobby cameras as she left the hotel. The sun was high in the air and there was laughter and chattering amongst the small crowd. Laet prayed her heart would turn to stone as she walked alongside families, grieving a life she had lost before she could even experience it.

[otakugirlkrod]

Three years have passed

A/N: Hey everyone! I just wants to say that I’m so grateful that I received a lot of support. Thank you very much. Here is the second chapter I hope you liked it. Also, special thanks to @silvermidnightprincess @acaigawrites and @whereisthefood123 for helping me with grammar. Thank you so much!!

Anime: Fairy Tail

Couple: Gajevy

Rated: T (Language)

Genres: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Status: On going

Summary: Tired of being “the damsel in distress”, Levy left the guild without telling anyone except Master Makarov. She spent three years far away from Magnolia learning new spells to improve her skills. But finally, is time to return home. What’s that strange magic she learn?

Chapter One:https://otakugirlkrod.tumblr.com/post/158442724445/three-years-have-passed

Chapter two: The mistery begins Footsteps sounded from the entrance of the guildhall.

“Jet! Droy! It’s time to go. The client is waiting for us,” Levy said cheerfully. “It’s been a while since I got up early to catch the first train.” She confessed to her teammates.

“Hey Levy!” She turned her head towards the voice. “Are you sure about this job?” Jet asked, sounding somewhat worried. “Beating a small dark guild is not an easy task.”

Levy smiled reassuringly. “Of course! I want to show you just how much I’ve improved in a hand-to-hand combat. I’ve grown in magic power, and…” Levy leaned forward. Curious, Jet and Droy leaned closer to her, eager to hear what she had to say. “I have a card under my sleeve,” she revealed quietly to them.

Jet and Droy glanced towards each other with confusion invading their facial features. “Why don’t you pick a translation job or something more… you know, peaceful?” Droy suggested.

The blue-haired girl sighed. “Guys! It’s time to show everyone what we’re made of!” She stretched her arms and held them close to her. “Shadow Gear will come back at full force!” She exclaimed positively.

Levy extended her arm towards her two teammates. Jet and Droy followed suit, each placing their hands on top of hers. “Shadow Gear is back! We will never break apart!” The team said in unison.

Magnolia’s most cheerful guild was making their everyday destruction, drinking and singing routine. Keeping his distance from the calamity, our favorite dragon slayer couldn’t take his eyes off a certain someone.

Shadow Gear came back from that job four days ago and I’ve noticed a few things… Gajeel thought, “He looks so pathetic.” He let his hand rest on his right cheek, still contemplating his comrade’s condition.

“Are you staring at Jet again?” Pantherlily asked.

“How am I not supposed to stare if he looks like hell! Just look at him Lil’” Gajeel replied irritated.

“Both of them sure seemed terrified.” Lily replied referring to Shadow Gears male members. “What happened on that job?” A tone of concern was now heard in Lily’s voice.

“I don’t know. Something smells fishy and it ain’t Salamander’s cat food.” Gajeel replied. Why are Shrimp’s lapdogs acting so different? Every time someone says Levy’s name they change the subject. They didn’t even answer Demon girl’s questions. His eyes turned to the blank space that is the blue haired girl favorite spot. And Levy…she hasn’t shown up in the guild either. He thought. “All this shit is confusing!” He thought out loud.

“Indeed” The exceed answered as he crossed its paws in front of him.

Gajeel got up abruptly and walked to the brown haired Shadow Gear member. He slammed his fist to the table to catch his attention. “Oi! What the fuck happened? All the guild is feeling worried for your sorry asses.”

Panicked, Droy looked around and attempted to explain. “Things got… out of control, ok?!” He yelled. A few guild members turned their looks away and continued with what they were doing. “We were getting our a**es kicked for Levy’s sake but something happened.” Droy continued in a low voice. “I’m not going to say anything more, so back off.”

Droy’s answer caused a bunch of “what if” scenarios to cross the iron dragon slayer’s mind. “What do you mean for Levy’s sake?”

“Droy, is not his fault either.” Another voice entered the conversation. “If we had done the plan the way we were supposed to, we wouldn’t appreciate what happened with our own eyes.” Jet said sarcastically, causing Lily and Gajeel to give him a confused look.

“You’re still not answering my fucking question, you scumbags! What happened to Shorty?” Gajeel was furious, tired of this word game they were playing.

“Her magic power is divided. It’s different somehow.” Droy replied.

“Kinda dark in my opinion.” Natsu’s voice interrupted as he walked in the circle.

“What the-” Gajeel turned over.

“How do you know?” The orange haired mage asked confused.

“I sensed it before. I noticed since I saw her.” Natsu replied.

“Now that you mention it. I did sense something strange.” Gajeel replied. Natsu’s statement made Gajeel even more confused. Dark magic? Why would Levy want that?I don’t know if that’s true but I’m sure as hell that something bad happened and THAT is going to have consequences. He thought.

Meanwhile, darkness and silence took over Fairy Hills except for some tears hitting the floor of a specific room.

Jet…Droy…I’m so sorry guys. I didn’t want you guys to get killed because of me. Levy tightened her fist. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t do anything about it. I told you I could do it, but you wouldn’t believe me. She thought as tears fell from her face like waterfalls.

“Oi! Crying doesn’t suit your personality.“ a voice commented from the direction of the window.

Huh? Levy’s hazel eyes widened. "G-Gajeel…What are you doing here?” She asked, not daring to look at his red eyes.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice you haven’t showed up at the guild.”

“I-I haven’t been feeling very well. I have a fever and-” She tried to lie nervously.

Gajeel interrupted. “You should know by now that you’re a really bad liar. Gee hee”

“What do you want?” Levy sniffed, wiping away the fresh tears but still refusing to look at him.

“I got us a job.” She raised her head at Gajeel’s comment. “We’re leaving in two hours. Don’t keep me waiting.” He looked at her over his shoulder as he walked away, smirking before leaping out of the window and down to the ground below.

Team Gajeel arrived at the train station and hopped on the last available train. Levy sat in the opposite from Gajeel and Lily. As soon as the train started moving, a green color took over the dragon slayer’s face. He shut his eyes as his gut began to twitch, forcing him to drop to the edge of the seat. He slightly opened one eye.

I don’t know what’s worse? This crumbling in my stomach or the weird feeling in my chest because of her eyes filled with sadness. Levy was watching her reflection in the train’s window as they passed a town near Magnolia.

“What’s wrong?” Lily interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head towards him.

Trying not to worry him, she faked a smile. “Oh Lily, it’s nothing. I’m just a little bit tired, that’s all.”

“I hope that’s the truth.” Lily replied, slightly doubtful as he positioning himself in her lap to get some rest.

Patting the exceed’s head, Levy let out a small sigh. “Of course,” she lied.

Somewhere near Magnolia, there was a small luxurious valley in Onibus Town. A few mansions on both sides. Each of them had gigantic well sculpted gold gates. Levy’s eyes brightened.

“They are so beautiful” she breathed, admiring every detail.

“It looks so damn fancy that makes me want to puke.” Gajeel’s irritated tone didn’t go unheard. People outside their residences frowned at the dragon slayer’s comment.

“Bunch of morons” He murmured, giving them a death glare.

“Now I know why the reward is high.” The small feline replied.

Gajeel looked at the request paper and recognized the house. “This is it” He opened the gates and the trio climbed the stone steps to stand in front of the marble-sculpted door. Raising his left hand, Gajeel hit the door a couple of times, the thudding sound resounding within the mansion.

From within the house, a young woman stood in the library, respectfully clasping her hands behind her back. “Master.” The red-headed maid bowed her head as she interrupted a young man’s reading. He looked up from the book he was engrossed in to the woman standing before him. “The mages of Fairy Tail are here.”

His mouth turned to a smirk. “Let them in”

Outside, the trio waited patiently. “Hey Gajeel,” Levy’s voice caught Gajeel’s attention. “How do you think the client is?” She asked.

“Probably an asshole” Gajeel grumbled and turned his sight to the fancy white door before them.

“You may come in. Master is waiting for all of you in the meeting room. Please follow me.”

As team Gajeel walked into the stunning mansion, a pair of brown eyes focused on the blue-haired mage. She is so cute and beautiful. His glasses slipped down a little.

Levy’s hazel eyes widened. Why is he staring at me like that? She looked at the brown haired man’s expression. The object he was holding in his left hand caught her attention. A Solid Script Magic book? Does that mean he is a mage? A puzzled look formed on her face.

Gajeel looked at Levy. “Oi! What’s wrong?” He asked, perplexed. “You’re all red.”

“It is an honor to meet such a beautiful mage like you” The tall man walked directly to Levy, took her hand and kissed it. “May I know your name?”

“I’m L-Levy…Levy McGarden. And y-yours?” She stuttered.

The man replied. “Call me Yasu.” still holding Levy’s hand in his.

“WHAT THE HELL!? HE DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE THAT I’M HERE AND NOW HE’S FLIRTING WITH LEV!” Gajeel said, infuriated.

Lily looked at him. “Are you jealous?”

“Fuck no! ‘Course not,” Gajeel replied instantly.

“It looks like you’re upset about him giving her all this attention.” Lily stated.

Am I? Gajeel thought, confused.

Maybe I feel this way because no one has treated me like this, besides Jet and Droy…Such delicacy, elegance… Levy sighed. He is a gentleman. But her thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar raspy voice.

“OI FANCY PANTS! CAN WE GET TO BUSINESS AND TALK ABOUT THIS STUPID JOB.” Gajeel grew impatient. His eyes turned to Levy. “Could you drop that face?! It’s annoying me.”

Why does he have to be so rude? I won’t forgive him for interrupting this moment. Levy thought.

“Who is this guy?” Yasu said noting the dragon slayer’s presence. His face looked confused as his gaze drifted to the floor. “What is a cat doing here?”

“I’m an exceed, to be more specific, Sir.” Lily clarified politely.

“Don’t mess with my cat, sugar boy.” Gajeel growled, sending Yasu a threatening glare.

“Let’s get down to business.” Yasu led them to the meeting room, seating himself at a detailed, gold-engraved table. “Tonight, I will have a formal party to celebrate my engagement.” Levy sat beside him.

Too good to be truth, I knew it. Levy sighed, forcing yet another fake smile onto her face. “Congratulations!” She smiled. “Who is she?” She asked curiously.

“You, of course.” Yasu said blatantly, as if it was obvious.

“Wait-what?!” Levy’s blushed, her entire face turning scarlet.

“That’s the reason I asked for a woman to get take this job.” Yasu winked at her. “Don’t worry; it’s fake. Think of it as… a play.” He said almost seductively.

“Play, my ass” Gajeel grumbled, furious. Of course, Yasu ignored his outburst.

Yasu regained his posture and donned a serious demeanor. “In this house, I have a very valuable book. Which is the one you saw me reading.” He looked at Levy. “This Solid Script Magic book is not an ordinary one. It contains the most powerful spells of this type of magic. Including the dark and forbidden type.” He leaned forward putting his arms on the edge of the table. “I’m pretty sure a skilled mage will try to sneak in tonight during the celebration to get this book in her hands. The small dark guild she belongs to are after every type of spell that eradicates one’s life force. Their beliefs and motto is to 'cleanse’ this world of the people who try to maintain any semblance of order. In this book is a simple yet powerful spell called 'Instans Mortem’.”

“…Instant death…” Levy murmured a little terrified.

“Correct.” Yasu confirmed, looking directly into Levy’s hazel eyes. “From what I’ve heard, two members of that guild have already mastered it, which is why we have to be very careful.”

Levy gave him a confident smile. “Don’t worry, the job will be done in a blink of an eye. Gajeel, Lily and I will take care of it. I won’t disappoint you.” She smiled.

Yasu got up from the meeting table and headed straight to the door. He stopped and turned around. “About the clothes for tonight, don’t worry, I’ll get them.” He gave her a smile. “Good luck, Levy-chan. I can’t wait until tonight to see you looking even more beautiful and stunning.” Levy’s eyes widened and a crimson hue formed on Levy’s cheeks.

“As for you,” Yasu looked directly to Gajeel, “please behave.”

Gajeel growled, walked up to him and seized the collar of his shirt with one hand. “I can behave how I want! Who are you to give me orders, Fancy Pants?!”

“Well, I am your client after all. I’m the one who will pay you if you succeed in this job.” Yasu replied dryly. He sighed. “What I mean to say was that you need to act as calm as possible to avoid suspicions.” The tension was so thick, Levy fancied she could cut it with a knife.

“Hey guys, could you please calm down?” She hissed. “The party is in a few hours and I don’t want any of you to do something you might regret now.” She turned to Gajeel. “Gajeel, stand down. We need to save our energy for when we confront the mages.” She looked the other way. “And Mister Yasu, could you please let me borrow that book?” She asked with her hands clasped together in front of her chest as if praying.

Yasu smiled. “Of course my dear.” He offered her the book. “Here, take it.” Yasu’s face coloured a little when their hands brushed one another.

“DEAR?!” Gajeel repeated, dumbfounded.

Levy blushed and smiled cheerfully. “Thank you so much.”

Later on in the mansion, Pantherlily and Gajeel were alone, making their way through all the grand house’s magnificence. They were looking for possible entries where bandits could sneak in and sealed them with Gajeel’s iron.

“Can you believe that asshole? First, he flirts with Levy, then he wants her to pretend to be his fiancée ! And don’t get me started with how he tried to give us orders and make us wear some fancy, stupid suits.” Gajeel’s voice echoed in the long hallway.

Lily’s ear twitched. “DEAR MAVIS, GAJEEL! GET OVER IT!” He snapped, annoyed at the repetitive statement. “That happened over an hour ago and you’re still dwelling on the same thing. I can’t focus when you keep whining.”

Gajeel huffed and looked forward. A familiar scent was getting closer with every step they took. That’s her scent, I guess she really is reading that stupid book. His studded eyebrows narrowed, sharpening his facial features, but relaxed quickly. What does she think of that bastard? He sure looks like a bookworm. Gajeel stood still in the middle of the hallway, forcing Lily stop in his tracks as well. Could it be that she liked him? He fell silent for a long moment.

“Hell no!” He said aloud and continued his path following Levy’s scent. “Ughh!” Gajeel released a frustrated breath. What am I thinking? Gajeel placed his hands on either side of his head.

When Gajeel and Lily found Levy, they kept their distance. Gajeel stood by the doorframe, watching her read. Some day she will find someone. A breeze came through the window and brushed against Levy’s blue hair. But not today, I don’t want her to be with this jerk.

“Ahh” Gajeel complained quietly. Why did I feel that strange sensation when I saw her blushing because of him? Suddenly, a particular smell hit Gajeel’s nose. Wait a minute, I can sense his scent…That jackass doesn’t give her a minute to breathe.

“I finally found you.” Yasu said happily.

“Huh?” Levy looked back over her shoulder and saw Yasu coming out of a door that connected the relaxing room with his bedroom.

“How’s the book?” He asked, getting closer to her before stopping behind her and leaning over to see the book. “Pretty interesting, right?” Levy looked away nervously, most likely due to his close proximity.

“This book is the pure definition of perfection!” Levy agreed, adjusting her reading glasses as she closed the book. Stretching her petite body, she got up off the sofa, sighed and held the book closely to her chest. “I can’t believe it. I’d love to learn all of this.” She turned and gave Yasu a bright smile. “Thank you for being so kind to me.” Yasu blushed.

“Something wrong, Gajeel?” Pantherlily asked curiously while watching the scene before them.

The iron dragon slayer practically bristled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He tightened his fist and walked away with a dark aura surrounding him.

TBC

Characters belong to Hiro Mashima.

[theloveablesociopath]

Silver Silence Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x shy enhanced reader

Summary: Bucky finally finds himself able to live at the compound with the team, but finds it difficult to repress his feelings for his new very shy and gentle teammate.

Word count: 2,066

Warnings: Fluff and slight anst, Very shy reader, swearing mentions of social anxiety.

You woke up, blinking rapidly at the hovering lights above you and letting out a groan from the sting in your head. The surface you where lying on was cold, and stiff, but there was an obvious softness propping your head up. As you turned your head to the side you noticed you where in the med bay, and naturally you assumed it was because you passed out and Bucky had brought you in. As slowly as possible you sat up, causing light whimpers to cascade from your mouth. No one was around, and the room carried with it, an eerie silence that you honestly felt the need to get away from.  So with that to motivate you, you pulled yourself off the table and began to head to the door. In the hall you where met with that same silence that you found in the lab, not a single drop of noise was forming in the air, all except your delicate footsteps.

Feeling slightly out of breath, even with the fact that you had only walked to the living room, you propped yourself up on the door frame.  There was no one in the site, not even in the kitchen, just scattered papers and game controllers on the coffee table and abandoned boxes of protein bars and plates strewn about the kitchen. Taking all this in you knew exactly where everyone had gone, they were out on a mission, and judging by your surroundings, a urgent one.

You slid your hand into the back pocket of your jeans to grab your phone and noticed it wasn’t there. Figuring it was most likely in your room you began to walk towards the elevators and pressed your floor button.

It felt weird being in your room for some reason, like you had been out of it so long that it was almost less appealing then it normally is, but none the less it was a strange sort of safety from the rest of the compound.  

You searched all around your room but there was no sign of your phone, and even more unusual no sign of its charger either. After retaining this information, and redressing yourself for the day, you ventured back into the elevator, and found your finger hovering over the button for the upper floor.

You hadn’t been out of the compound since you arrived there and it felt like you where just pretending to be a caged animal that could just as easily break if outside your padded cell. With one quick thought you pushed the button for the lobby and walked out the front doors.

____________________

Buckys POV

A commotion in the front of the helicarrier snapped me out of my exhausted daze and caused me to rise to my feet.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Steve as he made his way back to where I stood, his face slightly panicked but trying to remain calm.

“That was Helen, she can’t find (y/n)” he took a deep breath before answering the obvious question etched on my face. “She went to the lab to check on her after moving her from the bed to the table to run tests and she’s not there, she isn’t even in the compound.”

I took a long slow breath and glanced around at the faces behind him, “how long until we land?”

“About an hour” he replied, sighing as he took a seat next to me.  I could feel his eyes on me as I slowly sat next to him, carding my hands through my hair, then feeling his hand on my shoulder.

“She’ll be okay Bucky, she may have just went for a walk.” He reassured me.

I turned my head to look at him, stress already radiating from my chest. “But what if she’s not Steve, what if something bad happened? She’s the most venerable person on this team, she’s the easiest target.” I swallowed.

Steve smiled at me softly ready to reassure me even though he himself was freaking out inside. “She’s tougher then you think.”

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

“HEY! Watch where you’re going asshole!” You shouted as a bicyclist nearly ran you over on a cross walk.  It almost surprised you how vocal and outgoing you felt all of a sudden, but then you remembered you where always less shy when it came to the city, and especially when the people around you weren’t world renowned super heroes.

Yes, you do suppose maybe sneaking out of the compound after being hospitalized from over exertion was a bit of a risk, but on the other hand you had previously been on your own for almost 7 years.

It had been roughly 2 hours since you left the safety of the compound and so far you had walked around the park, got ice cream from a vender and even stroke up a conversation with a complete stranger on a park bench, all with only one near death experience. And by near death, of course you meant the skinny prick on his bicycle that almost broke about 5 of your bones if he had hit you.

Luckily though, everything was going according to plan, well a plan you didn’t really have but let’s call it a strategy, as in don’t break yourself.

As you rounded a corner you saw a little movie store tucked in between a boutique and a coffee shop. You didn’t necessary need any more movies, but there was someone who you knew would enjoy some of their own copies. You made your way through the plethora of bodies and pulled yourself into the store, hearing a ring of bells as the door opened and closed.  The shop keeper greeted you with a friendly smile and an almost animated “Good evening!” which he followed with the usual “Can I help you find anything?”

You thought for a moment before asking him where you could find older movies.

He pointed his finger in the direction left of you. “All the way down second to last shelf” he said.

You nodded curtly at him and made your way down the rows of shelves until you stood in front of one labeled “vintage”. You scanned the tittles until you found a copy of ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ along with ‘The Maltese Falcon” and ‘How Green Was My Valley’. Two of which you didn’t own, but were sure even if you gave them to Bucky that he would let you borrow them when ever.

After checking out you left the shop and glanced at the horizon. Noticing it was beginning to approach night fall, which meant you probably woke up in the lab around late afternoon.  Deciding it was most likely a better idea to head back to the compound now, rather than wait another hour in line for coffee and pastries like originally planned. You found where you parked the car you had conveniently borrowed from tony and began to drive back home.

You felt your bones ache with sleep as you took the last couple of steps through the doors and into the elevator. You’re sure you had a content smile on your face the whole way up that is until it was metaphorically smacked right off as the elevators doors opened to reveal all your team mates standing around the living room with their arms crossed.

“I see you had fun” tony was the first one to speak, making his way over to you. “And really? My Havana?” he asked.

You shrugged sheepishly, shrinking down and mumbling “I like vintage things”

“Where have you been all day?” you heard a voice from behind tony and glanced around him as Bucky began to walk towards you. You felt his gaze wonder down your body, checking for any sign of injury.

“i-I I just wanted some air...” he looked at you with hurt eyes and then shook his head as he passed you and walked into the elevator.  Steve pushed past tony and stood in front of you.

“You should have told us, we were all worried sick, all we had was footage of you walking out of the building.”  He said softly.

You sighed softly. “I didn’t have my phone, and you all were gone I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Anything can happen to you out there.” He replied more sternly.

That caused your blood to heat up. “Yeah well ‘out there’ is where I spent seven years of my life alone.” You seethed as you started to back up to the elevator again. “I can handle myself, just because I have you all here to help me does not suddenly make me any more fragile then I was before.”

And with that you went back to your room.  When you laid you bags down on your bed you felt an overwhelming tight sensation in your chest. They were all disappointed. They were worried about you, and as much as that filled you with warmth, it also filled you with guilt.

You knew what hurt you possibly the most was Bucky’s face when he approached you. You couldn’t really explain it, but the handsome solider admitted a feeling in you. Maybe because he didn’t treat you like glass all the time, or the fact that he made the effort to get you out of your room but he was definitely growing on you.

Taking all the courage you could muster up you grabbed the movies you had gotten for him from the bed and headed down to his room.

It took you about 10 minutes of standing at his door to finally gather enough adrenaline to actually knock and when you did all you heard was a soft “come in” from the other side.

You entered, finding Bucky sitting up against his beds headboard, with one foot draped aimlessly off the bed and a book in his hands.  His face held slight confusion but still looked at you almost disappointingly. You clutched the movies tighter to your chest, looking down to the floor in short glances.

“I’m sorry” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “I just... I’m sorry”

He sighed, looking down at the book then closing it and laying it on the bedside table, before nodding and patting the spot beside him on the bed.  You shuffled over to him, sitting on the side near his legs carefully, facing him instead of where he pointed at.

“I was worried you know” he spoke, causing you to nod. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You nodded again and then looked down at your lap. “You have reason to worry...” you started. “I know I’m the equivalent of a china doll, but I’m honestly capable of a lot more then you think.” You shifted your gaze to his eyes. “Don’t forget I was on my own for seven years before I came here.”

He let his eyes linger on you as he softened his features. “I know, I know I just have this primitive need to protect you... And I’m not even sure why, I don’t even know you all that well but...” he trailed off.

“You’re broken in mind, and I’m broken in body.” You finished for him. “We are both a little fragile. And maybe you are to me, as Steve is to you. Someone to lean on.”

He sat there with you in the silence that seemed to drag on for centuries, but it was the kind of silence you felt content in, and honestly it felt all the more peaceful knowing his energy resided in it.

“I uh... Got you something” you felt your voice become nervous as you handed him the three movies, with shaking hands.  He took them from you and looked down, reading the tittles and letting a warm smile rest on his face.

“Thank you.” He replied, looking up into your eyes in sincerity.

“I just thought you’d like to have a few movies of your own since you enjoy mine so much.” You smiled back at him.

As you made your way to leave you felt butterflies form in your stomach.

“Oh and (y/n)” he called, making you turn around. “The mission today... We went to a hydra facility for a couple of files.”

You nodded, your eyes fixed in confusion at what he was getting at.

“We know how to cure you.”

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