#distinct feminine squealing

[katykatyykaty]

PEDRO IN PURPLE!! IVE ALWAYS WANTED PEDRO IN PURPLE!!!

[miss-celestia13]

Mastermind

Jake x MC Silly Fluffy One Shot

Words: 4.3k

Inspired by old memes! I've added one to the end.

Jake has planned their trip to IKEA down to the last second. He forgot to account for MC and her ability to turn a simple shopping trip into a day-long adventure. He's a mastermind, but he might have met his match.

Thank you so much to the lovely @julesisreading for all her help and insights with IKEA and the things that could happen to Jake there 🤭 I have only been once or twice myself and needed some help with it. Anything that is wrong, call it artistic liberty and I have no budget to stick to when writing, so I can do what I want🤣❤️

Jake

He was armed to the teeth. Nothing could surprise him or knock him off track. The map was crystal in his mind, and he was confident every challenge, problem, and panic attack had been accounted for and neutralized before they could infringe upon his ability to complete this mission. It was one he took seriously and would accept nothing but success. They’d eaten a decent breakfast, and he packed bottles of water and snacks in case she got hungry. All avenues had been considered. He knew every entrance and exit and mapped out multiple escape routes for every turn and pitfall they might fall into. He was ready. He was prepared. Or so he thought. He’d forgotten to account for the human elements, and a sinking sensation in his stomach already warned him all might not be well.

Jake eyed the mammoth building with a gimlet eye and smothered his groan as they approached the entrance. They were about to face the most arduous struggle many couples grapple with… a trip to IKEA. The challenge? Walk in, get what they need, and walk back out without breaking up. He was confident he could hold his own and not give in to the pressures being faced with so many options could place on a person. A strange notion swept over him as the automatic doors parted to allow them inside. Should he be laying a trail of breadcrumbs to ensure they found their way out? He was almost intimidated by the size of the place and doubted his own ability to remember everything he’d planned. The woman beside him insisted on pushing the cart so he could grab things she pointed at, and there was a distinct frenetic energy around her small form that made her bounce as she walked.

The list he created the night before was on his phone, and he knew exactly where everything was to the last inch. Reassured by the website that all was in stock, he warned her on the way there that they would not be distracted by anything shiny and they would avoid the food hall. He couldn’t remember if she actually agreed to his terms or if she made him forget them by using her feminine ways to distract him. If she had, he knew he enjoyed every moment of it and wouldn’t hold it against her. She laughed at his intense research, but he was determined to make it out alive and mostly intact. He felt more like he was gearing up for a fight than furniture shopping, and her delighted squeal as they approached the pile of reusable blue and yellow bags only solidified that feeling. She was grabbing one after another and smiling as she turned to him.

“Do you think four will suffice?”

He opened his mouth to affirm, but she shook her head and muttered, “No, better get a few more just in case. I think… yep! Seven will do!”

“We don’t need that much...” He said as she bounced back to his side and tossed the bags in the cart.

“We might see something we didn’t know we needed, Jake!” She laughed, eyes alight with mischief as they ambled into the market hall.

A subtle but noticeable scent hung in the air: sawdust, maybe something with cinnamon, and a bunch of other things he didn’t have a name for hit him as they walked in, and it was pleasant, but he did not trust it. He knew it was only there to lure one in, get them lost, and keep them trapped inside this horror store forever. His credit card burned a hole in his pocket as she approached a row of finger-smeared computers and began pointlessly searching for all they needed. He stifled a chuckle as the first two she tried would not work, and she growled at the screen, huffed, and glared at him when his worked on the first try. His touch screen was faulty, though, and when it failed to show him where he could find the coffee table she so desperately wanted, he sighed through his nose and prayed this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

“Come on, Hackerman, we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way!” She chirped, guiding the cart away and over to a display of kitchen utensils.

“I have everything we need marked down. We just have to go there, and...we don’t need a lemon juicer.” He arched a brow as she demonstrated how to use it and winked at him.

“You never know! It’s only -”

“Yeah, it’s only $2.49. That’s how they get you.” He said, and she scoffed but put it down after remembering she didn’t like lemons.

There were too many shiny, cheap, and silly things to grab her attention. Like a magpie, anything that glittered under the fluorescent lights caught her eye. She flitted from shelf to shelf like some demented fairy while he watched on and felt his hope of getting out before dark dwindle and drain away to nothing. They successfully found both the nightstands and dresser, but as he failed to find the shelves she specified, his frown deepened, and he pulled out his phone to double-check the website. It said they had it, but he stood before the empty space where his shelves should be and wanted to beat his head off a wall. Rechecking the site, he didn’t notice her approaching and jumped a foot in the air as her bright voice cut through the angry murmurs in his head.

“We can just choose another set. It’s fine. The ones down there look alright.”

“If it isn’t in stock, the website shouldn’t say it is! It should be here, where it’s stupid tag is. Or what’s the point in it?” He grumbled, glaring at the empty space one last time before following her as she skipped to another set that fit their budget.

She grinned as she pointed at it and posed like a hostess on an old game show.

“See, it’ll do. Crisis averted. I bet if you checked the website it would be out of stock! Help me get it in the cart!” She demanded with a cheeky grin. He couldn’t help but return it as he did as she asked.

The other shoppers reminded him of those old zombie movies. Glazed eyes and faces frozen in thinly veiled discontent as they blindly tossed mass-produced artwork and lampshades into their carts. Somehow, the millionth print of a black squiggle was something many felt completed the décor of their homes. He didn’t understand it and was glad when his overexcited partner completely bypassed that section to drag him to another display, making him want to dig in his heels to avoid it. His eyes could barely keep track she moved so fast, just a blur of hair and freckles jumping from aisle to aisle. Bedding, shower curtains, and decorative pillows somehow made it into their cart, and he could sense his finely tuned plans falling apart like wet paper under his hands. This was his Great War. He’d brought a knife to a gunfight and lost the battle before they’d arrived.

He kept his mouth shut until she let out a thrilled noise and made a beeline for the mirrors.

“The stuff we need is over there. It says there's only one in stock. We need to hurry.” He tried as she waved a hand at him and examined the many mirrors.

He could see himself glowering as she paced along the aisle, a finger tapping her chin. And practically heard the cogs turning in her head as she pondered how to convince him they needed another mirror to give the illusion of space.

“I think another won’t go amiss, that one!” She clapped her hands and gestured toward one that would require another cart.

“We can order it online once we know we have space for it.” He smiled, and hoped it looked genuine.

“Have you seen the delivery charge?! It’s more than the mirror. I’ll grab another cart while you get the things on your list. I know you can find me anyway.” She teased, making him bark a shocked laugh, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Fine, but we’ll meet back here in an hour, deal?” He held out his pinky as she sidled closer and looked up at him through a fan of dark lashes.

She hooked her pinky around his and shook, “Deal. Now, off you go! Let me have my fun.” She sang and left him blinking after her. Gods, he loved her.

He knew it was futile, but he clung to his plan and moved away to track down what they needed. The store wifi kept dipping out as he walked deeper into the maze of shelves and displays, getting turned around and making the same journey twice to find his way out. It didn’t feel like a win whenever he found something they needed. It felt like a payment that cost him blood and tears. His nerves were frayed, and his skin felt too tight as he tried and failed to double-check their stock. Again, it said everything was available, but as he came across yet another empty shelf, he wanted to throw his phone away in frustration. He had half a mind to update the stock counts online himself after this shit show, and he just might make that his new mission if he couldn’t get what they needed.

“There are three in stock. Where? Why... where the hell are they?” He was whispering as he crouched to check underneath, and seeing nothing, he straightened and looked around for an employee.

It took a few more minutes before he tracked down a worker bearing the store’s famous coloring and swallowed his anxiety to question him.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, your website says these are in stock, but there are none. Do you have any?”

The man sighed heavily, glanced at Jake’s phone, and shook his head, “I don’t think so. If none are on the shelves, you’ll have to try online or at another store.”

Jake bit down on his disgruntled groan and asked the question he knew all retail workers despised, but he had to be sure. He couldn’t give up yet.

“Could you maybe check in the back? I hate to ask, but my girlfriend-”

The man’s face morphed into an expression of supreme understanding, “Ahh, sure, man. I’ll do it. Wait here.”

Jake clung to his fading hopes as the minutes ticked away and other shoppers moved around his still form. It couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Jake before the employee strode for him empty-handed.

“Sorry, man. We haven’t got any in. We’ll get more soon and can email you once it’s here?” He offered, but Jake shook his head.

“No, we’ll pick something else. Thank you, though.”

That sinking sensation spiraled lower in his gut as he eyed the available units and chose the one most similar to what she wanted. Soon, the hour was up, and he returned to the agreed meeting spot. She wasn’t there. Of course, she wasn’t. His phone signal was better there, and the wifi worked, so he pulled up his tracker and waited for it to find her. She was on the opposite side of the gigantic building and was moving farther away as he cursed and hurried to chase her down. Half-dazed shoppers jumped out of his way as he vaulted down aisles, and the cart almost went sideways as he took every corner at a run. The rattling of the boxes and items against their metal chariot drowned out the beat of his heart as he rounded another corner and saw her. Her arms were full of assorted office supplies and décor, which she dumped in her overflowing cart that also contained a multitude of items they didn’t have on his list.

She spied him and grinned, waving him over, and he approached with an almost nervous air as she explained her thoughts.

“You have an office to fill, and I think these will work perfectly. I also saw some little work lamps, but I thought you’d like to choose that. Ooh! We should have lunch! Meatballs! I’m starving, and we haven’t eaten since this morning.”

He didn’t know where to start with that, and he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn’t sink in while she was surrounded by the sights and smells of everything she wanted.

“I have some snacks with me; we can eat those and just get everything done so we can leave.”

“But... meatballs, Jake! And cake, I can’t pronounce the cake’s name, but you have to try it! Do you want a tiny lamp? Or an even tinier fake cactus? They’re quite cute.”

“We can make meatballs at home...”

Her hands were on her hips as she pinned him with an unimpressed stare, “It’s. Not. The. Same.”

Sighing, his lips twitched with the urge to laugh at her adorable face, but he tamped it down as he replied, “We’re already behind schedule, and you wanted to get some of this built before everyone comes over tomorrow.”

She didn't respond but nodded as she turned and walked over to her cart. He was not distracted by the many pens, notepads, and stationery holders. No, he wasn’t. And he certainly didn’t toss a few packs in with his half of their shopping when she wasn’t looking. He wasn’t as sly as he thought, and her arched brow when she saw him covering the pens with a pillow told him she missed nothing when it came to him. As the checkout came into view, his chest loosened, and victory hovered at the edges of his mind as they were quickly rung up and charged a small fortune. He felt safe to internally celebrate making it out alive as they headed for the exit. But she uttered some words that delayed it instantly.

“I need the bathroom! I’ll meet you at the car.”

“I can wait for you here?” He offered.

“No, it’s fine. I know where you parked.”

Seeing no way to argue, and he was blocking the exit, he nodded and took control of her cart along with his. It was risky business navigating the busy parking lot, and he was sweating by the time he reached his. He opened the large trunk and methodically began to pack everything inside, using the backseats for everything that didn’t fit in the trunk. Silently, Jake swore he would never again darken the Swedish megastore’s doorstep. It would be a cold day in hell before he subjected himself to that place again. He was returning the empty carts to the store when his phone buzzed. He waited until his hands were free to check it and didn’t know whether to bemoan her tenacity or delight in it.

MC: I’ve got your meatballs and kladdkaka! Come get them before I finish mine and eat yours.

His traitorous stomach rumbled as he read, and the smile flirting with the corners of his mouth soon overtook his face. He couldn’t complain; they finished shopping and had nowhere else to be. She was only playing by his rules and twisting them to get him out of his rigidness. And he was hungry... pocketing his phone with an exasperated curse, Jake once more entered the hell of IKEA and set off to find the insistent woman who held his heart of glass in her steady hands. The food hall teemed with frazzled shoppers, overexcited kids, and elderly folks who eyed the mayhem with narrowed eyes. He scanned the bustling tables for a familiar head of hair and spotted her off in the back corner, dancing as she ate. As he rounded the table, he saw his own plate waiting for him and plopped into the hard chair across from her as she forked up the last piece of her cake and stuffed it in her mouth. He found it oddly endearing that she always ate her dessert first in places like this.

“You found me! That’s your reward.” She chuckled and pointed at the food on his side after she cleared her mouth with a sip of cold water.

“Mmhmm.” Was all he said as he tucked into his fast-cooling meal and caught her staring at his slice of cake.

He didn’t get the hype, but the meatballs were edible, and the mashed potatoes were silky smooth with no hidden horrible lumps, so he was happy to munch away. She did the same and kept dancing with every mouthful she took, though her eyes would stick to his dessert every now and again. They chatted between bites, and he wondered if she realized just how deep a hold she had on him, how far he’d go to see her smile like she was then. He didn’t think so and thought it was part of her charm. She could make a trip to the DMV an adventure, and he admired her warm, romantic view of the world despite his learned knowledge that it was often cold, hurtful, and dark. Her ability to make him feel the same way was a form of magic he’d never heard anyone discuss, but he thought it should be treasured more than the big things. The mundane made up the majority of their daily lives. It was a special kind of magic and person that could make even the dull seem extraordinary.

The freckles on her nose scrunched up as she caught him watching her, and he ducked his head to hide his grin as a blush sparked in her cheeks. He was content to observe her squirm and pretend she didn’t want to ask him for his slice. Pulling it towards him after he finished the bland meatballs, he used his fork to cut off a small piece. She was barely breathing and leaning closer, eyes locked on his hands. He popped it in his mouth, ignoring the rush of saliva as the flavor exploded on his tongue to push the rest of it over to her. Her eyes lit up, a coy smile on her pretty mouth as she tried to be considerate despite the feral nature of her love of all things sweet. 

“Are you sure? We can split it?” She said even as she shoveled it into her mouth, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her when she looked confused at her now empty plate. 

“I think it’s too late for that,” he joked before going on, “Do you want more? We can get more.” 

She considered it, and he was getting ready to do it when she shook her head and said, “No, if we buy more, I’ll eat it all before we get home and feel sick all night. We should go before I forget that!”

He knew it was true and let her lead the way to the car, her swinging gaze catching on every table until they were on the way downstairs and approaching the double doors to freedom. They were soon back in the car, stomachs full and warmed through as he pulled out of his spot and followed the traffic to the main road. The journey home was short, filled with her singing along to whatever radio station she found and asking him questions he thought she might already know the answers to but just wanted to hear his voice. Still rusty from years of disuse, his answers sometimes meandered off the correct path, but she hung on his every word like he was revealing the secrets of the universe. And it never stopped. No matter where they were, if he spoke, she focused intently on him until he was done. It was oddly heartwarming and touching. He hoped he made her feel the same way whenever she was telling one of her stories that had a thousand offshoots and side quests. Their home soon came into view, and the last vestiges of stress fluttered away as he parked on their driveway. 

The truth was, they didn’t need anything they bought today. But her only condition for him moving in was that they make it feel like his place, too, and it must look like he lived there. She wanted him to put his mark on their home so he knew he could always find safety there. He’d been happy to move in and use her things, used to having nothing, and everything he did have could fit inside a backpack. Material goods didn’t really matter to him, but it wasn’t the furniture she cared about. She wanted him to feel like he counted, and he needed to have a hand in how their home came together. His mind buzzed as they swiftly unloaded the car and carried everything inside. It didn’t take too long before they were seated on the couch with mugs of hot coffee as they studied the many boxes they’d have to assemble.

As soon as he’d downed the last of his drink, she slapped her hands to her thighs and declared, “I’ll build the coffee table if you can handle your desk! Then we’ll just build them one by one.”

Jake agreed, and they got down on the carpet to begin. She tore at the packaging, practically gnawing on it like a squirrel to get the tape off as he found a packing knife and unsealed it neatly. Her brute force approach worked well for building the furniture. He was still setting all his pieces out in order of use before he picked up the first piece of wood he had to join with another while she was battering in the last leg of the table. Music played quietly as they worked, and she lit some scented candles when night drew in, turning on the lights once it was too dark to see. His frustration mounted as the last piece refused to slide in, making a queer rattling noise when he tried to force it. She was halfway through a nightstand when she noticed and came over to see if she could help. 

“You know, when it doesn’t fit right, I just… make it fit.” 

Jake snorted, “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t want to catch the slider.” 

“Want me to hit it?” She asked with a wicked grin. 

“No, I think that’ll make it worse.”

“Okay, let me know! I have some rage I’d like to get out.” She said as she crawled back to her side. 

He couldn’t help the silly chuckle that slipped free of his clenched teeth as the drawer finally gave into his pressuring shove, and his frustration bled away as it smoothly rolled open again at his urging. 

“What rage do you have?” He wondered aloud as she slammed her fist down on the top of the nightstand to test its strength. She was more akin to a hissing kitten when mad. It was difficult to imagine her acting truly angry.

“Stupid things. Marge next door telling me not to feed the birds. Janet at work, who keeps forgetting what days I work, and the man in Starbucks who always misspells my name!” 

He was grateful her grievances were so frivolous and hoped they always remained so. She should never know how it felt to be completely alone and lost in the world. Whatever life handed him, even the good parts were often accompanied by soul-destroying despair. Even now, he was the happiest he’d ever been, free of his self-made chains and financially secure. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and often was paranoid that it hadn’t. He’d do everything in his power to ensure she never knew such darkness. If she ever lost that glint in her eye and the rose-colored glasses that made her world seem so gentle and lovely, he would never forgive himself. All he wanted was peace and happiness for her and for him. He knew life came with dips and often destruction, but he would feel complete if he could make this house their private little oasis from the world. The place they could retreat to and rebuild from the rubble whenever life’s hammer fist crushed them.

Long into the night, they playfully bickered and talked as they put together their new joint life and saved the rest for another day when their eyes turned gritty, and their yawns lasted longer than their conversation. Her soft hands were the sweetest medication as she ruffled his hair and suggested they got ready for bed. Side by side in the bathroom, they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, changing out of their clothes and putting on something lighter to sleep in. He knew his way around the house blind, and they didn’t turn on any lights as they entered their bedroom and crawled into bed. He curled around her body, his arm wrapping around her waist as she snuggled closer and hummed contentedly. Her soft breathing deepened, and he assumed she’d fallen asleep until her fatigue-roughened voice broke the silence.

“IKEA wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

He huffed a laugh, kissing the crown of her head before answering, “It wasn’t too terrible. But will you promise me something?” 

There was a smile in her voice as she said, “Sure, anything for you.” 

“Next time, we order online, and I’ll make you an entire chocolate cake you can eat by yourself.” 

There was a pause, a giggle, and finally, “Okay. Deal. I promise. I’ll even let you have a small sliver of cake.” 

“Deal.” He said and closed his eyes on the long day, certain in knowing he had many more good days ahead of him.

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

Thank you for reading! And if you reblog or comment, thank you for that too. It was a daft idea I had that wouldn’t leave me alone to write other things🤭 I hope you enjoyed it!

[starrysnowdrop]

FFXIVWrite 2023 #26: Last

Idiom: at last; after a lengthy pause or delay.

In ancient times, before the Final Days and the Sundering; Hermes arrives in Amaurot in order to take over the Seat of Fandaniel, and is given a very warm welcome from Azem herself.

As Hermes admired the morning sunlight dancing on the windows, illuminating the towering heights and highlighting the sheer magnificence that was Amaurot’s capital building exterior, Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus held the doors to the building open for Hermes to walk through first. A moment later, the three men, who were now wearing their masks and full robes with the hoods over their heads, stood in the lobby with about a dozen Amaurotines going about their business, Hythlodaeus was the first to speak.

“Now that we have fully recovered from the incident with the Kairos, missing memories aside, allow me to show you around the Capital building, and you can see where the Convocation offices are. I shall be happy to introduce you to everyone along the way.” Hythlodaeus gestured with his hands in an open and welcoming manner, ready to play tour guide for the future Fandaniel.

Before Hermes could answer properly, Emet-Selch replied with a shake of his head and a touch of sleepiness in his voice, “If you both don’t mind, I shall take my leave. I need to speak with Fandaniel and inform him of Hermes’ arrival.”

Hythlodaeus nodded with a gentle smile. “Of course! We will be along in a little while.”

Hermes was prepared to follow Hythlodaeus when suddenly a rather loud yet feminine voice rang out, which caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity. “Hyth! Emet! Wait!”

With a chuckle, Hythlodaeus turned around and confirmed where the voice was coming from, a familiar figure who had just walked through the same doors that they had moments ago. “Ah! Right on time.”

“Huh?” Hermes also spun around towards the source of the voice, but his confusion soon melted away once he realized who it was that called out.

Hermes’ heart leapt out of his chest and his breath caught in his throat as he stared at the woman in front of him, the woman that had stolen his heart and that he could never forget, no matter how much he tried.

She was much shorter than average, more than a fulm shorter than himself, and she wore a distinctive black mask. Though he could not see her eyes, he instantly spotted strands of pink hair peaking out from underneath her hood, and she had the most stunningly beautiful smile he had ever seen.

He had let slip her personal nickname, but quickly caught himself. “Rani… I-I mean, Azem?”

With a squeal and a hop on the balls of her feet, she exclaimed in reply, “Hermes! You’re here at last!”

Hermes could not stop himself as he smiled brightly and opened his arms, anticipating that he would be met with a hug.

As he held his arms out, Azem ran forward at full speed, which surprised the curious onlookers.

Emet-Selch went back to stand at Hythlodaeus’ side, his finger wagging furiously as he reprimanded his friend and colleague in vain, “Azem! How many times have I told you to stop running in the lobby!”

Completely ignoring Emet-Selch’s scolding and everyone else around her, Azem leapt into Hermes’ arms and the two embraced each other, both filled with joy. Azem then reached up and planted her lips onto Hermes’, which surprised him, but he quickly melted into the kiss.

The onlookers gasped and began whispering to one another. Surely the news of Azem kissing the man who is to become Fandaniel would spread like wildfire, but Azem nor Hermes didn’t seem to worry about that fact now.

Emet-Selch sighed and held his head as Hythlodaeus laughed with glee.

“Now that’s a warm welcome,” Hythlodaeus said as he struggled to maintain composure from laughing much harder than he already was.

As he turned to make his retreat, Emet-Selch sighed even deeper. “I’m too tired for this…”

[art-lover-genderhater]

I bought sensible clothes

I wear boots or sneaker shoes

I no longer wear makeup or hijab

It’s a lot more freeing and I feel so much happier

but I just can’t knock of the feeling that I look masculine 🥲. I feel out of place kinda. Any advice??

Oh, my sweet love. Alright, my response will be long. Because I wish I could give you a hug and because I think know what you're feeling and I think its something that all women feel at some point: I have failed in my femininity. But you MUST keep reminding yourself that you cannot fail what is inherent. You are a female and thus all the things you do are feminine. All that every woman on earth has ever done is feminine and it takes a while to shift your own internal ideas of what make a woman…womanly. It is definitely difficult because we've contorted this idea of “femininity” to be one of a meek, selfless, hairless, thin, sexy, gentle object for men's benefit. ( “Femininity pleases men because it makes them appear more masculine by contrast; and, in truth, conferring an extra portion of unearned gender distinction on men, an unchallenged space in which to breathe freely and feel stronger, wiser, more competent, is femininity’s special gift. A major purpose of femininity is to mystify or minimize the functional aspects of a woman’s mind and body that are indistinguishable from a man’s.- Femininity, Susan Brownmiller ”). We in are actively encouraged to be nothing but meek and sexually viable habitually by all of those around us and are rewarded for compliance or made pariahs for ‘disobedience’. (Sonia Johnson so aptly said in ‘Losing our Minds ’ "Women are strong adult human beings. There must be daily reminders, daily terrors to keep us in our place.”)

But. You must do something very difficult for a while now – you must just exist. This is difficult because it is not something girls and woman are taught to do (“Women learn to exhibit, rather than inhabit their bodies” said Carol J. Adams, in The Pornography of Meat).  You need to make a daily practice of being at the very least NEUTRAL about your body. Your body is really just trying to do its job of keeping you, sweetest lovely, functioning day after day and has never done anything out of malice, ever. That deserves even a little bit of tenderness, no? For the soft collection that is there for absolutely every moment you have ever had?

When I need a reminder I do a body check-in, thank it, and touch it and take a deep breath. These breasts amazingly store fat and make you more likely to survive starvation. Your arms can lift wood or carry a squealing niece or nephew. The hair around your lips, nose, arms, armpits, and between your labia all are working hard - catching pollen and bacteria and dust, regulating your body temperature, and alerting you when a little bug lands on you. On the sickest day of your life your heart was beating extra fast to get more oxygen to your lungs. When you had the happiest, most joyous belly-aching laughs with friends your belly was there jiggling along, your vocal cords let them know you enjoy their company so much you have to holler, and your tear ducts released tears to keep your hormone equilibrium in check because there was so much dopamine running through your body. Your lips and mouth gathered the most delicious, luxurious and abundant meals you have ever had, and your skin was extra sensitive to the sensations of the blanket on the coldest, most lonely days when you felt like dirt. Hands switched on the stove and stirred the pot and put a hand on a friend’s shoulder in assurance and examined the dirt and bugs when you were a baby and glorious thighs help you climb trees and jump over streams and they even slump and fall into relaxation on grass when you do.

The woman around me remind me I exist to be more than the adjective feminine. My aunt is fat and confident and takes up space and has a laugh so loud it fills the room. Its commanding and so fucking glorious when she laughs that I can’t help but feel her palpable joy. My sister lets her gray hairs curl just fall around her face with such ease and grace its almost comforting to see. She loves that she’s survived this long. My mother has arms that are sun-freckled and a little flabby but make for hugs are so soft because her body is soft and her face has wrinkles around her mouth where she’s smiled for years and her cheeks have a little bit of fuzz like a peach and and I love love love rubbing my cheeks against hers because it makes me feel like a child again and it feels extra lovely and it smells just like mom. And she has a mole on her forehead EXACTLY where my grandmother has it and exactly where I have it! Mole triplets! And I think that’s just so amazing? Her body makes me happy because she’s in it, around it, full of it, its just her and I love that lady. She’s a woman who is grown and loving and practical and she’s engaged with the world flab and lip moustache and all and it makes me see myself, my body, as my loyal companion in experience. We’ll grow more comfortable and generous and forgiving with ourselves with time, I think. In the mean time I promise, like practice, it gets better.. There will be off days, but gradually you feel whole and full and joyous like a cat that stretches or a dog rolling in grass on its back with its tongue out. Who cares about leg hair when you are enjoying the feel of sand and sun on your bum and salty ocean air in your nostrils at the beach? You are just here,  experiencing. And you will give the other woman around you permission to do the same. You will even attract like-minded women into your life who laugh and sweat and argue and play and exist freely. Good luck on your journey, you lovely womanly woman , you :)

As a more practical extra:

I’ve been more purposeful of consuming content by woman focused on cool projects, not just makeup reviews or some shit e.g. this creator HannahLeeDuggan: who lives off-grid and take you along as she lives by herself, in a cabin and soemtimes in her van,  but she also shows you how to make paper, how she builds shelving, cabinets, and fixes up her entire off-grid cabin by hand! There are also other cool creators like Haphazard Homestead: who teaches one to forage and identity plants that are edible or medicinal! So freaking amazing.

Remind yourself modern rituals of femininity are harmful & you deserve better: Corsets are dangerous, makeup contains shit so chemically dense and horrible for your most precious organ and protector against diseases (the skin), heels are TERRIBLE for your feet and stretch and hurt bone and muscle, shaving and waxing irritate the skin and put you at a higher risk of vaginal infection and diseases or overall cold-related illnesses,  

Indulge and surround yourself with some art of women just existing, or doing normal like exercise or thinking  (See one of my favourites  Jenna Gribbon “Wrestlers” Series, Oil on Linen, 2019)

Maybe come back to some poems to help from women who came before:) My favourites are Mary Oliver- Wild Geese with that famous reminder that “you do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only need to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves”, Sandra Cisernos ‘At Fifty I am Startled to Find I Am in My Splendor’ (which makes me smile every time with how joyously she finds her lovely plump body "Solid, stout, bottom planted, firmly and without a doubt, filled to the brim I am.”) and Sara Kaye- The Type  which has one f my favourite lines ever- “you are a woman. Skin and bones. Veins and nerves. Hair and sweat, you are not made of metaphors”)

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Dress Codes,Nooky And  Cock Blocks

Masterlist

Henry tries to be a white knight and realizes Kal is to smart for his own good.

Request/Prompt: Henry and Kal meets you from work after having a bad day. Playing with Kal to make Henry jealous. Shutting kal out for some nooky but Kal sits outside the door barking and howling.

Warnings: Smutty Almost Smut! Fluff, Swearing

A/N: so this has combined two ideas one of which is from the lovely @being-worthy This was going to be a Pooh bear chapter two but hasn't quite fit the bill. Anyway I hope you all enjoy.  P.S I 100% belive Kal would be a little shit!!!

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​ @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen​ @sofiebstar​ @thefangirlsblog​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @loserrlauraa​ @tumblrnewby​ @isitmine​ @tinabean37​

This was a fucking piss take your manager was an asshole! You huffed about the office still trying to process the stupidity he just fucking spouted at you. You moved to the ladies room phone in hand ready to vent locking yourself in a stall fingers poised to rant in a long ass text message but you froze. Henry was home well at the gym to be more specific. He was over the moon having just snagged the role of Geralt of Rivia and had been working tirelessly on bulking up for the role especially now that he was getting the dates for shooting. You paused taking a deep breath. No. You cant vent to him and ruined his day to. You growled and moved leaving the bathroom slamming the door thankful that you only had another hour, at least the prick had the decency to wait until the end of the day.

You through your phone down into the bag sitting at your desk for a few moments. You cast your eyes over the computer screen seeing the little bimbo...His little bimbo Stacey there was an office romance between your asshat of a manager and this little blonde. She ran about the office in small tight skirts hair immaculate and thick makeup smeared across her face and fuck me glasses that were an accessory not prescription like yours. She had a snug fitted blouse and pencil skirt on flitting about the office in some dangerous looking heels. More feminine? Was you supposed to jump up and say 'yes sir of course Sir, anything to keep this job sir' then flutter your lashes at him?.

Fuck that, and fuck this be more feminine bullshit, there was no written dress code and as far as things had gone you were doing your job pretty damn well and you didn't need heels to do it!

You scowled seeing the blonde slip out followed by your manager it mus be time fore their discrete get away a make out in the copier room...How original. You sighed clicking your mouse scanning through the next lot of appointments...No more today but there was a shit tonne tomorrow. You sighed getting down...Was your job really on the line over skirts,  makeup and heels? Sure you were on probation but they couldn't sack you for breaking a non existent dress code...Could they.honestly you wouldn't put it past Dave he seemed to have some fucked up traditional views.

Your attention was quickly drawn down to your phone buzzing you smiled seeing it was Henry quickly tapping the notification.

'Bbe you still at the office?? Miss you! 😘😘' You smiled softly heaving a deep breath then began typing.

'Yep still here not for long though finish in 1hr thank god 😘😘 u 2 at the gym still??' You sent the text and got a reply pretty quick you smiled he must have left the gym to reply so quick. Your thoughts wandered a daydream of the huge glorious man puffed out and sweaty ugh yes that's what you needed right now your man to just ruin you fuck the stress and doubt right out of you!. Your eyes scanned the new text he had sent pulljng you out of your raunchy thoughts.

'No just left walking Kal around the park he got a bit excited need to wear him out, so have a good day?'

'😂 good luck with that. And its been okay...G2g shopping after apparently I need to dress more feminine😒😒 so will be home late' You frowned hearing the two love birds enter the office again wrapped up around one another professionally you rolled your eyes as the blonde pulled away from your manager giggling and made her way to the computer opposite you instantly reaching for her compact mirror trying to correct the smeared lipstick across her face. Your phone pinged and you looked down face lighting up a little seeing the anger emojis. Henry felt the same ass you.

'😡😡🤬WTF? wats tht sppsd 2 mean?' you cringed maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut but it was too late now you sighed trying to placate him.

'I need to wear skirts and shit...be an office bimbo no big deal🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just get a few skirts thts all' you typed back his reply was immediate almost as if he'd been typing the same time as you. Wincing you prepared yourself for the worse, Henry was a very protective man and you knew he hated the whole gender roles thing.

'😡😡You dnt need makeup and shit!! ur gorgeous dnt u listen to that wanker!! Can't u leave early?? Say ur going shopping?? Just get out of there! please love dnt let this get 2 u!!🥺🥺 I love u, ur perfect!!😍😘😘😍' You grinned got flushing rereading the words a warmth in your chest. You knew that he meant every word. Stacey looked over with a smirk snapping the compact shut and pointed a false nail in your direction.

"Oh? Is that a blush? Who are you texting? Someone cute?" You flicked your eyes up to her you didn't have anything against her per say but you were different people, she was all Instagram, kardashians and trending and you were all gaming, books and cosy pajamas. You never really spoke to her if you could help it.

"Err yeah...My boyfriend" you admitted looking down seeing another text from him. Another round of compliments and reassuring words lit up your screen.

'I mean it bbe I know u! dnt beat urself up over it! Dont u let him get 2 u!😘😘' you smiled softly yes he did know you and he knew this had not only made you angry but also insecure. You thought you looked good at work you always made a point to look 'put together' but it wasn't enough?

"Ooo was that him again? You never told me you had a boyfriend! Is he new? How long have you been together? What does he do? Whats he saying!?" You gulped as she got up quickly scuttling around the desk as fast as she could in her heels and skirt.

"We've been together a few years...He's just asking me to leave early and catch diner with him but I don't think Dave would like that..." Stacey's face lit up and she beamed at you. She was happy to have something else to gossip about.

"Oh! that’s so sweet~ he wants to steal you away for dinner! You know I wish Dave would do that but he only really pays attention to me at work....So does this sweet mystery man have a name?" You looked up at her tilting your phone away a little so she didn't see Henry's on going threats of 'coming down there and teaching Dave some manners by ripping his tongue out his ass' you shook your head as you caught the ass end of a long text full of emojis...You sort of regret teaching him the meanings of them....Was that an eggplant in the middle?.

"Henry...His name is Henry and he's an actor" Stacey squealed cupping her face completely excited for some reason.

"Oh that's so cute! You know its always you shy ones that nab yourselves the boho guys...You know I always wanted to date the 'boho' type myself but never did, they were all to....Just not my type I like clean cut guys, you know ones who fill out a suit" You squinted what the fuck was she getting at? You schooled your features standing taller quickly and made your own little dig.

"Like Dave?" she flushed and nodded excitedly missing the whole sarcastic droll over your words. She clapped her hands completely missing the fact you were poking fun at the scrawny 'stud' sleazeball who Henry could easily snap over his thigh if he wanted to.

"Yes just like my Dave~! Ugh anyway do you have a pic...Come ooon! Let me see your man~" you sighed tilting your head to her...She was pretty harmless...And dippy so it shouldn't do any harm she didn't strike you as the type of person to watch Henry's movies so shouldn't recognize him. You nodded sweetly it was actually a little fun you rarely got to show off your man,  most people who knew him knew you were dating. You twisted the phone eying the screen and froze seeing the last texts he sent you whilst you spoke to Stacey.

'Have you got out early??🧐🧐'

'Babe don't ignore me!😤😤 Is he still there!?😡'

'Woman you better answer me! Stop ignoring me bbe it wont help😤😤'

'Im serious y/n do I need to chat with him? Do you want me to help?🧐🧐'

'Look out the window'

"Oh hell no!" you huffed out under your breath then stood up scrabbling to the large office window Stacey followed you alarmed. You freaked and quickly opened the window poking your head out to scream at your sweet but very dappy boyfriend. As irritated as the texts were he didn't look it, well until you really looked he was tense and it wasn't just because Kal was puling excitedly.

"Oh my god?! HENRY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!....GET OUT OF THE GOD DAMNED ROAD!!" lone behold when you looked down you saw Henry standing there with a huge bouquet of Roses and a bag you suspected held a box of chocolates, Kal was barking up at you spinning in circles and jumping up super excited almost dragging the huge man over in all the excitement. It would seem the walk was not enough to wear out the bear. Henry grinned up at you you heard Stacey from beside you gasp.

"Holy shit is that your boyfriend??" you turned to her and smiled smugly to her nodding then glanced back down to him seeing him quickly navigate the people bustling around the car park heading for the doors. You froze. You can't let him up here he sounded angry earlier...He'd kill Dave. You ran back to your desk quickly logging off the pc and snatching up your bag.

"Where do you think your going y/n?" Dave called after you you stopped seeing him there arms crossed giving you the filthiest look he could muster seeing your bag slung over your arm then there was the distinct buzzing of someone Henry at the door trying to be buzzed in. You pointed to the door opening our mouth to fake sickness or something but was interrupted.

"Oh Dave leave her alone...All the times she's here early let her go early for once, we don't need her anymore today and it means we get the office to ourselves for an hour~" your eyes bugged out as Stacey came to your aid fluttering her lashes to your manager. He heaved a sigh and nodded to the door in a 'get out of here' motion.

You smiled quickly darting out down the stairs to the ground floor seeing Henry standing there unimpressed finger holding the button down in one long irritating ring. You shook your head at him through the glass as he held the button.

You slapped the exit button opening the door and Henry tried darting past you into the building chest puffed shoulders ready to give your boss a piece of his mind but you caught the frightening man by his ridiculous bulging bicep. You spun with him digging your heels into the worn carpet.

"No no no! Henry no!" he carried on to the stairs dragging you with him passing you the roses and Kal's lead as the dog bounced around you both yipping like the over excited pup he was. Henry had hoped filling your hands would give him time to jump up a few steps out of your reach so he could have a chat with Dave about this whole misogynistic bullshit. Henry swore when you scampered behind him hooking your arms around his forearm and leant back, if he moved you'd drop like a rock and up the few steps as you both were, you'd hurt yourself. He stopped heaving a deep sigh looking to you.

"Just five minuet's babe is all I need! fucking feminine my ass he just wants to oogle your peach of an ass!! And that's not- that ass is mine!! fucking no one NO ONE fucking upsets my baby!" Your body flushed skin prickling at the shear alpha tone the possessive growl that seeped into his words made you tremble swallowing dryly you managed to shake it off and focused on the task at hand fucking could come later for now you needed to stop him from ripping your manager a new one. You moved crouching down bearing your weight down giggling at him as he still tried to thunder up the stairs. Kal helped to pulling at his lead it was a joint effort.

"Henn love?! I'll be sacked if you go up there and make Dave piss himself! Please lets just go home it's Friday I can find a few things over the week end for now can we please leave" he stopped and looked up to the brown ceiling and flickering light sigh he clicked his tongue then looked to you slowly with a heavy breath.

"....Fine, but next time I'm having him!" you smiled finding his protective side arousing your tummy clenching just knowing you big strong man could rinse the little twat upstairs made your pussy clench you always had a thing about strong men and Henry was the most physically fit you'd ever met. You somehow managed to coax him out of the door in the direction of home taking a detour picking up a Chinese on the way.

You giggled rolling around the floor with Kal. after a quiet dinner and snuggle with Henry you had been ushered away so he could do his nightly reading of his new script.You didn't mind at all you loved seeing him so invested in his roles. you caught a glimpse of the red roses sitting proudly in a glass vase on the fireplace almost blocking the view of the tv but not quite. You loved this, just being home with your favorite boys enjoy a nice quiet night in. you scoffed mocking kal who was pulling hard on the black rope trying to out witt you with quick flicks of his head, playing tug with Kal was a workout huge as he was he had the weight and strength to out match even Henry. You did not stand a chance just holding onto the black rope hoping to slow him down but he was full of energy today.

Henry was sitting on the sofa feet up reading his witcher script pen in hand as he read his page, one a night was the deal. But honestly trying to pull him away from this particular script was a hell of a job fair enough he was trying to memorize lines and scribble down alternatives in the margins. It was sweet how excited he got, he already knew the character in and out so could already tweak things around so it felt like Geralt. He was happy had been chasing the role for a while so you didn't mind that preparing for it was taking up most of his time. but you were still horny from earlier and wouldn't complain to a night of nooky. But alas Henry was drawn in by the script and you were trying to find other ways to distract yourself from the bubbling arousal in your loins, like playing with Kal. But that’s not to say you wasn't going to tease your man, there were ways to get his attention~

You smirked putting a plan into action bending lower wriggling your ass, craning back so your shorts rode up just that little bit more. Then once in place you squealed loud gaining the mans attention as Kal tugged dragging you across the floor growling playfully bouncing his weight back jerking you around, it was only then that Henry grunted in annoyance, your voice had been high he loved you keeping Kal entertained he really did, but sometimes he needed a little quiet. Especially when he was trying to concentrate.

"You know if I keep this up I'll have bigger muscles then you~" you giggled out a you tried to hold your own against the mighty bear. Henry smiled and watched shaking his head as Kal dragged you under his legs to the free space on the side of the coffee table. As much as he was trying to concentrate you could never get on his nerves for long, he just loved you to damn much. Henry frowned as you were pulled again wincing anticipating an accident as Kal was definitely getting to invested in the game.

"Or a dislocated shoulder" he commented as Kal did another particularly painful looking shunt and shook his head side to side still growling loud around the toy. It was then that he looked at you properly and what he saw made the man pause and suck in a breath air getting trapped in his throat at the innocently erotic sight. Seeing you bent over any time was a pleasure but here and now? Bouncing deliciously on your knees being half dragged about the living room added another dimension to the whole thing. Your arms and back stretched out low on the floor spine arched slightly, sitting with your knees tucked under you, the bouncing making your ass jump deliciously.

Two full ass cheeks peeking out of you short shorts as Kal carried on his jerky movements. You bit your lip grunting and tugged back pulling with all your might successfully gaining a few inches which Kal stole back and more making you yelp and moan as you were sprawled out on the carpet again. This time dragged up on your knees into a position he he spent many nights enjoying to his fullest. were you doing this on purpose? he wouldn't put it past you...Maybe you needed a fuck, a proper fuck.

Henry couldn't help the twitching in his groin, the first tremors as he got a front row seat to the two perfect globes of your ass seemingly clapping against one another with the shorts acting like a thong shucked up your ass. Fuck you wasn't wearing Knickers again. Little fucking minx. He lowered his feet to the floor now far to invested in watching you roll around in the tiny shorts. swept up in the way your body swayed taunting him. you turned to him with a sly smile and sent him a quick wink that he almost missed.

He gaped at you, you were doing it on purpose!! His script laid completely forgotten on his lap as he watched you turn back to Kal innocently dipping down low again shoulders to the floor stretched out taught in front of you face tucked into your arm as Kal fought you for the coveted rope. God...It had been a while since he fucked you like that. He licked his lips. Too long in the busy days since snagging the witcher role he had only had time for a two quickies. Two fumbled quickies in three weeks and they wasn't even that good. Well not his usual hour long foreplay teasing and touching then good few rounds. They were just a flurry of fast rutting motion's, less fucking more jerking trying to finish as quickly as you could just wanting that high. he bit his lip watching you watch him out of the corner of your eye definitely teasing him.

"Babe come here~" You froze and twisted your head back you knew that tone.Grinning knowing you'd got your way you looked seeing Henry eyeing you hungrily biting his lip tilting his head, legs spread wide making his thighs bulge in what should be a loose set of black shorts but actually became skin tight on this Goliath of a man. You flushed under the gaze but managed to hold into the rope not giving the still pulling pup an inch. His eyes were a dark ocean blue pupils nearly swallowing the color completely, you wondered how far you could push him. you pouted at him before teasing him further opening your legs wider letting the material of your shorts almost completely disappear.

"Henry...I'm playing with Kal-" he squinted at you then quirked a brow before shaking his head snapping shut the folder holding the script and let it drop to the floor by his foot with a decisive thump. You gulped. But didn't move instead you heaved back pulling the Akita across the floor.

"Babe...Come here Kal's had his playtime..." you rolled your eyes hearing the silent 'now I want mine' sometimes he was a man child. You twisted your head to him with a flutter of your lashes and cheeky grin.

"Well I'm playing with Kal you have to wait your turn-HEY? HENRY THAT’S CHEATING!?" You yelped as Henry quickly bolted up right and stomped on the rope whilst using his considerable size and strength to pull you up off the floor making you release the toy.

"Well that’s enough playing with Kal, time to play with me. I wont be cock blocked in my own house by the dog~" you giggled as Henry quickly began climbing the stairs laughing kicking your feet, watching as Kal stayed two steps behind rope in his mouth excitedly following his parents, you were all going to play!. It was only when the dog found himself shut out of the bedroom did he realize you were in fact not going to be playing with him anymore tonight. you could hear the indignant huff through the door.

You wriggled as Henry fell onto the bed with you wrapped around him slowly devouring each other with deep kisses tongues and teeth roaming each other. It had been a good few weeks since you both explored one another properly. Henry pulled away chuckling at the soft scratches at the door. Kal was not impressed.

"Kal go lie down! We will be finished soon" Henry called out and ignored the high whines and more insistent scratching at the door and leaned over you sucking at your neck decorating it as he saw fit leaving marks of red and purple biting his mark into the crook of your neck then lower tracing a warm wet train over your thin shirt. You moaned clutching his waist trapping him between your thighs using the grip you had to rock up onto him trying to ease the burning in your core.

"Oh whats this? Someone is impatient considering she wanted to keep playing with Kal?" His voice came out as a deep rasp making you gasp cupping his face.

"You treating me with your Geralt babe?" He smiled latching onto your ear rocking down onto you drawing out soft mewls. You vaguely heard Kals whines become louder barks out side the door hearing the dog jump up pawing at the handle of the door trying to break in.

"Oh you like?~" You sighed quickly trying to rid your tshirt panting feeling just how wet your slit had got, you were embarrassingly wet considering you hadn't even done anything yet.

"Fuck yes~ oh god its so-ah fuck its so hot Henry~" he pulled back growling in the new low tone you hadn't known he was capable of, his large hands helped remove the tshirt throwing it across the room and latched onto your tits biting and sucking slow flicking his tongue across a pebbled nipple as his hands stripped you of your shorts. he chuckled seeing the damp patch, your arousal sticking to the material in one neat line.

"Oh you really do need me don't you love~" you nodded to him whining when he pulled back grunting a growl biting your boob and sucking harshly. You both moved in tandem rolling around the sheets grinding ,rocking ,biting and grunting both intent on ignoring the pup crying outside the door. He would wear himself out and get bored. Well that was the plan anyway.

Henry finally pinned you and descended on your core like a starving man given the sweetest fruit. You cried out fingers in his hair unsure what spurred on this heated frenzie but would happily indulge him. One thing you loved about him is he was always up for eating you out, the man thrived on it! He seemed to get a massive kick out of feasting on you until you came all over him. You grunted as he suckled on your bud teasing and twisting his supple lips across it Nipping you began to loose yourself panting and jerking up into his mouth chasing a sweet release you hadn't known you needed and then you heard it.

A deep loud echoing mournful howl. Even Henry stopped frowning up at you from between your legs. That was new, Kal wasn't a howly dog, he barked and yipped giving off the weirdest groans and moans. But never howled. You both burst out laughing unable to stop it as the howls were all over the place, loud and quiet raspy and uneven like Kal was an apprentice learning on the job.they were less 'howls' and more 'how-wo-wow-wo-wow' It was clear this was his first time but bless him he was trying to be the wolf of the house. You panicked as he began to get the hang of it and patted Henry's shoulder. he was still chuckling finding Kals new found voice hilarious.

"Quick stop him! If he learns that we'll never hear the end of it!" You chuckled pulling the thin sheet over you as Henry swore and quickly slinked off the bed racing to the door opening it stopping Kal in his tracks. The Akita smiled panted a few breaths thumped his tail on the floor then collected his rope entering, jumping on the bed without a care in the world.

"Babe?" You asked biting the inside of your cheek trying to stop the giggles as Henry began to scowl at the fluffy bear sprawling out on his side of the bed a flush building up his chest settling over his face. He cleared his throat.

You and Henry watched as Kal moved dropping the rope by your hand waiting for you to continue your game of tug. You flopped back in peels of laughter at Henry's face. The man looked amused and livid at the same time as realization struck. Kal, lovable cute baby boi Kal had just played Henry like a fiddle. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact your boyfriend, your chosen mate had just been outsmarted by a dog.

"Yes love?" He said none to happy with how things had turned out, here he was standing at the foot of his bed painful hard on and there you were naked and willing...In his bed...With Kal. This was not the plan.

"I hate to break it to you...But you've just been cock blocked in your own house by your dog....For a game of tug!" You giggled as you threw Henry's previous words back at him petting Kal who was still fiddling with the rope trying to make you grab it.

"No shit...Can we still fuck? I mean he can have my side! I'm gonna be on top of you anyway?" You gaped at him as he rounded the bed fulling intent on rolling on top of you sliding home. You held up your hand to him.

"Nope! No way am I fucking you next to Kal!" Henry ignored you crouching over you trying to lay you back down to finish what he started before being rudely interrupted by the Akita now in bed with his girlfriend.

"Oh babe why not? this is painful, look I'm going purple...Besides you started it its your responsibility~" he whined trying to bat away your pushing hands leaning in to capture you with a burning kiss. You dodged anticipating his next move, his kisses were always a sure fire way to make you completely melt and give in to him. you quickly twisted away throwing your legs over the side of the bed placing your hands either side of his naked hips, pressing him back as he still tried to gain on you. you swallowed looking up at him meeting his lopsided grin, trying to ignore the proud cock swaying in front of you almost tapping your heaving breasts.

"How about the shower? He's scared of the bathroom since his last bath?" Henry snapped his fingers and clapped face lighting up as he patted your hands slowly easing them off of him.

"Fuck yes! Babe you are a genius!" He moved over and kissed your face making you bat him away and then he turned to Kal wagging a finger at him.

"And you my four legged son are a pain in the ass!" You shook your head patting Kal as he tilted his head  he looked offended with his dads statement. You looked to the bathroom door as Henry's pert ass vanished around the door frame.

"Daddy didn't mean it baby boy~ you know how he is when he doesn't get his way...Just a spoiled man child~ he loves you really" Kal whined ears flattening  as he heard the shower switch on. You patted the dog with a sigh and got up padding across the bedroom to the en suit.

"Don't worry baby you stay there and daddy wont get you in the mean old shower~" you giggled scratching his ears as he huffed  in defeat. His daddy had got the better of him and the Akita wasn't pleased. He grumbled as Henry poked his head around the door frame wriggling his brows at you as you passed him getting a playful smack on the rear. then he faced the dog and stuck his tongue out childishly to the dog who huffed and turned around choosing to give you both a clear view of his ass.

[faintingheroine]

Wuthering Heights Reread - Chapter 2

And here is Chapter 2, the funniest chapter of Wuthering Heights. I really chuckled a couple of times in this reread.

“Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to Wuthering Heights.”

Good idea Lockwood. I wish that you had stuck with this decision.

In these first lines of the chapter the conflict of the chapter is pretty much laid out, Lockwood unwisely going to Wuthering Heights and being trapped there because of the snowstorm.

“On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.—I dine between twelve and one o’clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request that I might be served at five)—“

Here is our first introduction to Nelly’s character. The critic James Hafley who came up with the villainous Nelly theory pointed to this first introduction as an evidence that Nelly is supposed to be a negatively portrayed character. Personally I think that it is instead revealing of how Lockwood views Nelly and the culture clash between them. Lockwood views Nelly as “a fixture”, almost as an item in the house. Lockwood’s patronizing and classist perception of Nelly will be present throughout their interactions.

The culture clash is also interesting. Nelly is someone who believes that you must have done half of your day’s work before ten in the morning and therefore she believes that lunch should be eaten in the afternoon, whereas Lockwood is a young urbanite who lives a life of idleness and wakes up late. It is fitting that this is our first introduction to their relationship since this discussion about when to go to bed will be featured later in the novel. This difference between their attitudes is not just about class but also about the general culture of the place. The inhabitants of the Heights go to bed at nine and wake up at four in the morning according to Heathcliff. These are practical, no-nonsense people despite all their other emotional turmoil and they can’t understand Lockwood’s decision to visit the Heights during a snowstorm, this is definitely a factor in the clash between them and Lockwood throughout the chapter.

Nelly is described as a “matronly lady”; Lockwood likes categorizing people, especially women, into different archetypes as will later be shown in the chapter.

“On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged causeway bordered with straggling gooseberry-bushes, knocked vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled.”

Joseph’s gooseberry bushes make their first appearance. In Lockwood’s second coming to the region in late 1802 the door of Wuthering Heights will be unbarred and Cathy and Hareton will have cleared the ground from some of the gooseberry bushes intending to replace them with plants from the Grange, indicating the difference that took place between Lockwood’s visits to the region.

“The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the ‘missis’, an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.”

Our first introduction to Hareton immediately highlights his status as a worker in the farm and his seemingly lower status. He brings Lockwood to the house through another gate that presumably farm workers were supposed to use rather than a genteel visitor like Lockwood. We also get our first introduction to Cathy in this same paragraph which is fitting.

The description of the Heights is rather cozy, this isn’t a Gothic castle but rather a comfortable domestic setting. What makes it Gothic is the people and the happenings, not so much the actual place.

“She never opened her mouth. I stared—she stared also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.

‘Sit down,’ said the young man, gruffly. ‘He’ll be in soon.’

I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.”

Cathy defiantly gazes back at Lockwood without a hint of feminine shyness or even any sort of friendliness. This is indicative of her defiant personality. No matter how dire her circumstances are her will to stand her ground and not obey others is strong, which, despite her rudeness and depressive spirit, is admirable.

The “ruffianly bitch” is revealed to be named Juno, which is fitting considering her swarm of squealing puppies.

“‘A beautiful animal!’ I commenced again. ‘Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?’

‘They are not mine,’ said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.”

Here we have yet another indication of Cathy’s unhappy state and an indication that she does not exactly function as the mistress of the house, the dogs are not hers.

“‘Ah, your favourites are among these?’ I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats.

‘A strange choice of favourites!’ she observed scornfully.

Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits.”

Needless to say, I really like this passage. It is the perfect example of the dark humor of Wuthering Heights. It is also the most concise illustration of the failure of Lockwood and by extension the reader trying to impose their preconceived notions of the world and fiction on Wuthering Heights. (People who were disappointed by the book not being a romance were probably expecting something like cats). It is also a good example of the aforementioned culture clash between Lockwood and the inhabitants of these houses, these dead rabbits are probably for farm work whereas Lockwood comes from the urban world where animals only exist to be pets or as a means of transportation. (Though admittedly Lockwood will later come to Yorkshire to “devastate the moors”, but knowing Lockwood this is also probably a passing interest and he does not know that much about hunting).

“Her position before was sheltered from the light; now, I had a distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was slender, and apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form, and the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the pleasure of beholding; small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets, or rather golden, hanging loose on her delicate neck; and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression, that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart, the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation, singularly unnatural to be detected there. The canisters were almost out of her reach; I made a motion to aid her; she turned upon me as a miser might turn if any one attempted to assist him in counting his gold.”

Unlike her mother who is scarcely described in the text, Cathy is described in admiring detail by Lockwood. It is quite male gazey.

Cathy Linton is the character who is most frequently described as beautiful and this might be a factor in how healthy she comes off, both mentally and physically, and how positive a character she is. These things are explained in more detail here and here.

Lockwood’s description of her eyes foreshadows how important a role those eyes will play in the narrative later and brings to my mind Isabella’s comment to Heathcliff about how Hindley and Catherine have the same eyes: “Hindley has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and made them black and red; and her—”

Cathy not wanting Lockwood’s help shows how distrusting she is of everyone in this period of her life (and can we really blame her?) and how she tries to be strong on her own. This makes how she later retains her strength via her comradery with Hareton all the more moving.

“‘Were you asked to tea?’ she demanded, tying an apron over her neat black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised over the pot.

‘I shall be glad to have a cup,’ I answered.

‘Were you asked?’ she repeated.

‘No,’ I said, half smiling. ‘You are the proper person to ask me.’

She flung the tea back, spoon and all, and resumed her chair in a pet; her forehead corrugated, and her red under-lip pushed out, like a child’s ready to cry.”

This shows how little authority Cathy has in the Heights. It also shows how unwilling she is to do anything that she doesn’t absolutely have to. “Her neat black frock” is a clue to her being recently widowed, of course Lockwood doesn’t put two and two together.

The description of her childish expression brings to mind how she is still a teenager and quite young, of course she is moody and rude after such an awful experience and under such dire circumstances.

“Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us.”

I think this is Hareton being jealous of another man having the attention of Cathy.

“I began to doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and uncultivated, his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were embrowned like those of a common labourer: still his bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic’s assiduity in attending on the lady of the house.”

Hareton’s ambiguous class position is another classic foreshadowing of the revenge plot to come and was probably a sign of how something went really wrong here to the book’s original Victorian readers who believed in clear-cut class binaries.

“Are you going to mak’ the tea?’ demanded he of the shabby coat, shifting his ferocious gaze from me to the young lady.

‘Is he to have any?’ she asked, appealing to Heathcliff.

‘Get it ready, will you?’ was the answer, uttered so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a capital fellow.”

Hareton seems to be angry at Cathy as well. This is the first important sign that Heathcliff might be a generally “bad” person, not just a bit misanthropic and sarcastic.

“When the preparations were finished, he invited me with ‘Now, sir, bring forward your chair.’ And we all, including the rustic youth, drew round the table: an austere silence prevailing while we discussed our meal.

I have always found it interesting how Heathcliff sat at the same table with Cathy and Hareton, as @dahlia-coccinea also pointed out in their post on Chapter 2. Cathy and Hareton are not complete Cinderellas. In some twisted way Heathcliff does see them as family. In a way his revenge is making them his family, more than making them into servants.

“‘It is strange,’ I began, in the interval of swallowing one cup of tea and receiving another ‘it is strange how custom can mould our tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I’ll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over your home and heart—’”

As several critics pointed out over the years, in this passage Lockwood is trying to fit Cathy into the archetype of the “angel in the house” (which is especially ironic after Cathy offended him with her rudeness) and is trying to make sense of this strange family circle through his own cliched ideas about domestic bliss. This rather admiring description of marriage and family also belies Lockwood’s assertion in Chapter 1 about how misanthropic he is.

‘“My amiable lady!’ he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer on his face. ‘Where is she—my amiable lady?’”

I love Heathcliff. This exchange is one of my favorite parts of the book.

“‘Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.’

‘Well, yes—oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?’

This is ironic since Mrs. Heathcliff that is referred to here was Isabella but Heathcliff does indeed desire to be haunted by the spirit of another woman.

Notice how Heathcliff parodies Lockwood’s sentimental language. His entire revenge is partially parodying the actions of the people who hurt him.

“Then it flashed on me— ‘The clown at my elbow, who is drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his broad with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is the consequence of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from sheer ignorance that better individuals existed! A sad pity—I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice.’ The last reflection may seem conceited; it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through experience, that I was tolerably attractive.”

So, living here is being buried alive according to Lockwood. Much misanthropy.

The last sentence is just hilarious. He would sound much less conceited if he didn’t need to clarify himself. People who think that Wuthering Heights is devoid of humor or that Emily Bronte was incapable of getting the subtleties of human interactions clearly forgot about this chapter.

“‘Ah, certainly—I see now: you are the favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy,’ I remarked, turning to my neighbour.

This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice.”

“Beneficent fairy” lol.

Hareton being so offended at the thought of being married to Cathy is clearly an early sign that they will end up together. He would care less if he were indifferent.

“‘Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,’ observed my host; ‘we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married my son.’

‘And this young man is—’

‘Not my son, assuredly.’

Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him.”

“We neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy” I love Heathcliff.

Heathcliff doesn’t take pride in ignorance or brutishness, he sees Hareton’s ignorance and brutishness as things to be ashamed of and is proud of himself for bringing his enemy’s son so low. He does love Hareton on some level, but he wouldn’t want to be mistaken for his father. He doesn’t think that ignorance and brutishness are good traits and he doesn’t want to to be associated with these traits, contrary to popular belief.

“‘My name is Hareton Earnshaw,’ growled the other; ‘and I’d counsel you to respect it!’

‘I’ve shown no disrespect,’ was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself.”

Lockwood doesn’t seem to remember having read Hareton’s name on the door, perhaps because he didn’t enter through that door this time.

“ The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious how I ventured under those rafters a third time.”

Wuthering Heights has “glowing physical comforts”, it is the spiritual atmosphere that makes it a bleak place, not necessarily its physical presence.

“A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow.”

A very good and concise description of the situation. Wuthering Heights is really good at setting the atmosphere through brief natural descriptions.

“There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the tea-canister to its place.”

Our first porridge!

I like the little details of daily life here. Wuthering Heights is remembered for its dramatic and explosive scenes, but it is also good at conveying character through little details like these.

To my surprise I have found that I could get into these characters in this reread independently of my knowledge of the later happenings in the novel, despite me knowing the novel so well. The misanthropic grumpy landlord, moody teenage girl, the ridiculously delusional tenant, rude young man of uncertain class status, religious old servant... These characters are well-drawn and interesting independently of their backstory that we will later learn about, a novel that is more of this chapter could also be fun and interesting.

“The former, when he had deposited his burden, took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out ‘Aw wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i’ idleness un war, when all on ’ems goan out! Bud yah’re a nowt, and it’s no use talking—yah’ll niver mend o’yer ill ways, but goa raight to t’ divil, like yer mother afore ye!’”

The first mention of Cathy’s mother.

“‘You scandalous old hypocrite!’ she replied. ‘Are you not afraid of being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil’s name? I warn you to refrain from provoking me, or I’ll ask your abduction as a special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph,’ she continued, taking a long, dark book from a shelf; ‘I’ll show you how far I’ve progressed in the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it. The red cow didn’t die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be reckoned among providential visitations!’”

Cathy derives her power from her clever words and her love of books.

“Mrs. Heathcliff,’ I said earnestly, ‘you must excuse me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I’m sure you cannot help being good-hearted.”

The belief that Cathy must be good because she is beautiful is related to physiognomy. It is interesting that Emily Bronte has Lockwood say this since Lockwood’s assertions about women tend to be obviously ridiculous, yet she seems to make use of physiognomy in her characterizations. She is probably making fun of physiognomy as something to believe in real life but makes use of it to characterize her characters.

“‘How so? I cannot escort you. They wouldn’t let me go to the end of the garden wall.’”

Cathy is literally trapped at the Heights.

“‘As to staying here, I don’t keep accommodations for visitors: you must share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you do.’

‘I can sleep on a chair in this room,’ I replied.

‘No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or poor: it will not suit me to permit any one the range of the place while I am off guard!’ said the unmannerly wretch.”

Heathcliff has really become a miserly and grumpy man which again runs completely counter to the popular perception of him.

His completely reasonable assertion that Lockwood can spend a night sharing a room with Joseph or Hareton is forgotten by Lockwood because of his rudeness.

“At first the young man appeared about to befriend me.

‘I’ll go with him as far as the park,’ he said.”

‘You’ll go with him to hell!’ exclaimed his master, or whatever relation he bore. ‘And who is to look after the horses, eh?’

‘A man’s life is of more consequence than one evening’s neglect of the horses: somebody must go,’ murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more kindly than I expected.

‘Not at your command!’ retorted Hareton. ‘If you set store on him, you’d better be quiet.’

‘Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin,’ she answered, sharply.”

A sign of Hareton’s goodness and conscience and a sign of Cathy’s goodness as well.

Hareton is jealous of Cathy’s concern for another man. (@dahlia-coccinea also pointed this out in their post.)

Cathy and Hareton’s bickering is an early clue to them ending up together, which is why I am always surprised when people say that their relationship came out of nowhere. Like it or not, in fiction when a young man and a young woman share a quotidian and irrelevant enmity or a spar of words this is usually a sign that they will end up together. Yes it is not the least toxic of tropes and went out of fashion in the last few years, but this is the way it usually goes in fiction.

“He sat within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I would send it back on the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern.”

I like the little details of the farm life that are going on in the background like Joseph milking the cows. Bronte never lets us forget that this is a working farm where things are getting done and she always retains the vraisemblance of her setting.

“I ordered the miscreants to let me out—on their peril to keep me one minute longer—with several incoherent threats of retaliation that, in their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King Lear.”

The famous reference to King Lear. It is a rather humorous reference, referring to Lockwood’s threats being moot, which is what I have been feeling throughout the chapter whenever Lockwood mentions that he is on the verge of beating up someone.

“I don’t know what would have concluded the scene, had there not been one person at hand rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than my entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel.”

Zillah is positioned as Lockwood’s benevolent savior so far in the narrative, but her hesitation in going against her master is a clue to her pragmatic nature.

“‘Well, Mr. Earnshaw,’ she cried, ‘I wonder what you’ll have agait next? Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I see this house will never do for me—look at t’ poor lad, he’s fair choking! Wisht, wisht; you mun’n’t go on so. Come in, and I’ll cure that: there now, hold ye still.’”

Zillah calls Lockwood “poor lad”, I think Lockwood is supposed to be young and certainly younger than Zillah. I imagine him as someone in his mid to late twenties.

“He told Zillah to give me a glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while she condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his orders, whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed.”

Dun dun dunn...

@dahlia-coccinea

[misterbitches]

what i like abt muren and li chen

i’m sorta burned out and my vagina is bleeding so lemme see if i can type this. probably can lmao. my brain is going ten miles a minute.

1. the fact that they were friends first.

 someone on here said this and idk who but i don’t want to seem like it was my idea. 

the fact that they are friends and didn’t have like a connection previously and it developed. most times friends-to-lovers has a basis of some sort of romantic interest from another person so they were not truly ever friends, you know? and many relationships people aren’t friends first but that’s the best kind. and they are the truest form in that (i wouldnt say truest means good but just i think a representation of) they were truly friends, no attraction at least consciously, and were lead into it. 

2. bc they know each other well and are friends they know each other and LAUGH and if you can’t laugh with your love then there is no point. 0. lmao. i love it

idk they fell easily in2 the luvy duvy part and u can actually believe they are into each other like outside of kissing. gee. also hello! when lichen like threw the heart in the office and muren caught it? bitch! i woulda been like ew!!!!! and blushed but muren was like that’s right that’s my bitch

3. bouncing off 2 um uhhhhh the way they interact so i guess this is 2 but whatver i like lists now

muren is >:O but super sweet and receptive to others. so he responds to people and it isn’t just stoic for stoic sake or with not much substance. idk how to say this but oftentimes sometimes i feel like characters will be too oppositional to offset their partner and it can be extremely annoying to watch because it’s part of the dynamic but sometimes there’s a lack of reciprocation. i like that even if muren is quiet he smiles a lot and lets people know through his actions and shit. esp his mans. and when he needs to talk, he will. 

lichen is perfect for this because of reasons. what do you even say about this dude holy shit. first of all he really is a fucking himbo. he’s not even dumb he’s just a fucking himbo. it’s great to say the way they express their excitement and the best thing to hear, “i can be myself around you”

4. u cannnot tell me that this top/bottom discourse is actually not ridiculous esp for them bc there is no way that my eyes are seeing what i see yet there’s some struggle when they’re trying to constantly grapple with the masculine/feminine aspects (this is a good thing)

with the way that they hang off each other. esp bc lichen is shorter than him and stockier and he can attach himself like a barnacle. the way he expresses glee and love is very “feminine” at times IE reliance, support, putting your head on his etc but then there are times when he is the one to hold muren too. so it’s like they are clearly on the same  level in how they exchange love and stuff and exploring the dynamics but it clearly isnt as structured as the usual ones and it shouldnt be so they should just stop talking about this shit cos ur both getting fucked god shut up

lichen squeals like a girl and is obsessed with him. he is clingy and also says “what do you want to do to me.” if this show is gonna sit us through the agony of this stupid discourse and they tell me they arent gonna sw*tch or whatever (not that they cant have other forms of sex bc that is not that difficultand as adults w eknow this but anywaaay) then they simply are wrong

5. the ~gay 4 u~ thing is dumb and i cannot believe it tbqh cos it’s like sir....but i am glad that lichen like expresses attraction to his physique and personhood as a man and acknowledging that that is something and a part of the attraction.

 it was probably a happy accident but it’s still a good one. there’s sometimes an idea of like sexual attraction being sorta nebulous when someone is like getting into a rship with the same gender but not being sure about their sexuality or whatever or still liking another gender explicitly where they cant admit they find things attractive or enticing even when they are in a same sex relationship and it is so fucking confusing and doesn’t make sense. i wish instead of trying to make it cut and dry they just went honestly mabye they dont know but theyre both men and thats a factor. ok lets move on now. :) 

6. they make u feel nice

especially in comparison to the show being messy and also there’s some crazy stalker man running around you know they temper that 

they’re just really fun to watch. it’s an interesting dynamic and particularly with xing si in their lives it’s nice and i’m so glad there’s no one else to ruin it like say a brother who is a waste of space. but it’s mostly good feelings for them and you can see why they like each other, that they can stay together, and how helpful a relationship can be as you grow as an individual

7. while i am sure there will be further misunderstandings...comm...unic...ation?

literally boys are dumb as hell but idk if my reading is correct on this one but SO FAR TO MOI im like wow u guys like actually talk. woah. and i think that’s nice. yest i had a breakdown in front of my fam bc i am sometimes emotionally stunted when faced with distress so it’s nice to see people talking that out in particularly with like jealousy and stuff

AND their interactions in public and the understanding. knowing it takes time and stuff for them to adjust and allowing them the time. they are extremely different to other people and they want to be distinct and they can be and arre to each other they dont need to follow anyone else’s rules (except the costume department sometimes needs to get better pants for muren like that’s my rule tbh but that’s neither here nor there)

did some1 call them emotional support himbos? i think so cos word. 

oh one more thing idk the name of the actor playing li chen and im too tired to look it up but i like him a lot i think he does a good job of going seamlessly between like a jubilant person and an actual human being. he plays well at being oblivious but not outright stupid and emotionally stunted or not picking up certain signals. i think at times it seems like he doesn’t always have a sense of self  like trying to be something else for other people but then he realizes like he can’t do that so all he can do is be himself which leads him 2 his mans but yea. the actor does a decent job! it’s a fun character to wathc

[jbbuckybarnes]

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnant!Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close  to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy / labor, fluff, helmetless Din, canon divergent, not proofread, probably inaccurate pregnancy and labor stuff, the force, emotional Din, just Din having feelings.

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 7 - Brown Eyes

„Princess? You will be ready soon.“ Your favorite elder in the Sorgan village smiled at you. You sighed deeply, „Finally.“ You back had been killing you for the last 6 weeks of pregnancy and you were starting to get really cranky towards your adoptive son and husband. „I‘ll start preparing a couple things that will ease the pain.“ She nodded before she slowly left the hut. Din was sitting next to you by the head end of the bed, his legs bouncing nervously. „Stop that.“ You mumbled and he stilled in an instant. Too terrified of an angry pregnant wife. You had developed the strength of a mother recently and he felt like you could crush him with your bare hands if you wanted to. „Sorry, don‘t wanna stress you out.“ He murmured and leaned above you to place a kiss on your forehead. „Dank ferrik!“ You inhaled fast and he stilled again, „Breathe, darling.“ „What do I look like I‘m doing.“ You grumbled beneath him and saw him smile wider. „Why the smile, huh?“ „You‘re hot when you‘re mad. I‘m just trying my best to...help?“ He didn‘t quite help. How could he? You were about to just bring life into the world. „I know and I love you but I just want it to be over with,“ you whined and felt his hand run over your cheek. „It‘ll be worth it, cyar‘ika.“ He placed a gentle kiss onto your lips.

You heard a fuzzing child coming closer before Omera entered with Grogu on her arm. „He made it very clear that he won‘t stop until he‘s here.“ She frowned apologetically. „It‘s alright. He can stay until I‘m actually delivering.“ You smiled at her exhausted. Din took the green little bean onto his lap and heard him babble. „Yes, your baby sister is almost here.“ His little ears rose and he squealed and looked over to you. His little hands landed on your cheek and forehead where he continued making his typical Grogu noises. „I think he wants to comfort you.“ Din chuckled and scratched his little head. „You‘re doing a great job, little one.“ You chuckled and watched him smile wide. After a while he laid down next to your face and nuzzled his head against the side of your face. „Thank the maker for you two.“ An exhale escaped from your chest.

Not too many hours later your contractions became more and more frequent and sweat started forming on your face. The uncomfortable noises made Grogu perk up and put his hands on you again, but this time he closed his eyes. You felt relaxation wash over you, a feeling of being one with nature. It was powerful and replenished your energy in weird ways. „Mama.“ You heard his tiny and cute voice when you came out of this little trance. „You‘re such a good boy.“ You whispered and went over his right ear. You noticed wetness around your legs and your eyes widened, the little boy smiling with such a genuine calmness that you knew that he knew. Must be something with the force. „Din, can you get the nurse. I think I‘ll need her help soon.“ You mumbled while looking at your calming son. The man hurried out of the hut, „Thank you, Grogu.“ „Ba.“ You scrunched your nose smiling at him holding his arms up before another wave of pain hit you. It didn‘t really hurt as much as it was all consuming in a weird sense. It felt less daunting and more purposeful. Definitely something your little boy did with the force. You felt more connected to your body. „You sure that you want to stay for this?“ You asked him once you calmed down. He sat down next to your head with a calm and soft smile. You believed that he was 50 now. A 3-year-old 50-year-old. Din and the elder nurse came in, your husband picking up Grogu, „Let‘s get you to Om-“ He was interrupted by what sounded like a protective growl, „He wants to be here and I need his mental support. My delivery room, my decisions.“ A slightly terrified Din set his son back down and watched your harmonious smile form on your lips again. Yes, probably better to keep Grogu there.

„I‘ll give you about an hour, princess.“ The woman spoke after checking up on you. Now Din‘s heart rate definitely picked up. He wasn‘t ready, he was everything but not ready. Sure, he had parented Grogu, but Grogu could walk, communicate, even defend himself. But you were about to give him the most precious and delicate thing in the world. How was he supposed to protect his princess? How was he supposed to not get scared for her at night and every waking hour? How was he supposed to hold her? He felt a hand grab his and snapped out of it, seeing your smile and a calm Grogu next to you. „We‘re gonna be okay. Just a couple minutes of crushing your hands and maybe even screaming at you, but then we‘re gonna be okay.“ He huffed at that and brought your hand to his lips for a kiss. The elder nurse had prepared several medical mixtures for you. One to drink, one to put on your lower back and one to put on your belly. You didn‘t quite know what these did, but you trusted her decades of experience.

You felt another contraction not too long after she finished with the eternally long but calming procedure to apply all of the mixtures, but it felt different this time. The elder looked at your body and behavior and smiled gently, „You‘re ready.“ Your brain short circuited for a second at those words. Now? NOW? She checked up on you again, Grogu becoming more cheerful next to you. „You can start with the next one. Your body will naturally tell you. Close your eyes if it helps you.“ She smiled up at you happily. You nervously grabbed for your husband's hand and felt your son‘s hand on your cheek. It took a couple minutes for you to feel what she meant, but your body automatically told you what you needed to do and it was a different level of overwhelm, but it was also filled with those weird hormones making your pain more bearable. You pushed, sweat building on your whole body, squishing Din‘s hand. „Good.“ You faintly heard through the pain and felt your body wanting you to do it one more time. C‘mon, just how you learned it from Omera and her. Breathe out and push. Your body gave you a pause for a moment and you tried to stay calm, feeling your son climb to the side where Din wasn‘t holding your hand and pushed one of his plushies the kids had made him into your hand. You gave him a motherly smile before this all encompassing feeling hit you again. „You better make this worth it, Din.“ You grumbled and heard a nervous huff as you pushed again with a whimpering deep sound escaping you. He didn‘t really register your hand crushing his, too mesmerized by the absolute calmness in the room while you did one of the most powerful and feminine things in the world. This is why you were more warrior than him. You looked ethereal to him, even with the deep frown and the pain written all over your face. He only noticed the pure power you were emitting. He would pray to his new goddess soon.

A loud cry cut through the room, snapping both him and you out of your trances. „Good job, darling.“ She checked her up for a second before getting up with her. You both were in awe, you made that tiny fleshy, cutely proportioned, crying being. She laid the baby onto your chest, the crying calming down and turning into whimpering. Your hand wandered to your little girl‘s back, „Welcome, baby girl.“ Deep brown eyes looked back at you, like her dad‘s. „Well, aren‘t you pretty.“ You cooed and booped her nose. „My princess and my queen.“ He whispered and kissed your forehead and then his daughter's head for the first time. His daughter! „Dodie!“ You heard a very distinct Grogu sound and saw him waddle over to gently touch her tiny little arm. „That sounds like a name.“ Grogu looked up at you and raised his ears. „Dodie. Dodie Djarin. Princess of Mandalore, Lady of Karaku...well, what‘s left of it.“ You smiled at her and then at Din. „Sounds good to me.“ He grinned before he was interrupted by the elder nurse to cut the cord and help her clean the baby and your chest up.

You had fallen asleep in exhaustion while he had put Dodie on his chest, gently going through the little bit of brown fluffy hair she already had on her head. The big brown eyes were directed at him and he wanted to cry at how innocent they were. How this little human depended on him for safety and trusted and loved him without any restrictions. „Princess Djarin.“ He chuckled, still not believing it. „I‘m gonna do the best job in the world at protecting you and making you into a fierce little girl.“ He whispered and kissed the crown of her head. He put his finger under her hand, feeling like a giant all of a sudden. Her hand grasped onto it as her eyes became heavy. In a soft voice he hummed a little Mandalorian melody to help her fall asleep until he could watch her tiny chest rise and sink on his. That was his tiny wonder and his future. „You‘re the best thing to ever happen to me.“ You heard waking up across the room and smiled to yourself in overwhelm, thinking back to how this all started.

___

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[baby-grayson]

Grayson was the one to take nessas v card? why’s that really sweet🥺

They had been dating for two and a half months when Grayson deflowered Vanessa. In the weeks leading up to it, Grayson could tell she was slowly becoming ready: growing more comfortable being naked with him and relaxing more when he would give her oral. Grayson never pushed the issue, never wanting to pressure her or hasten her personal journey. Vanessa wordlessly recognized this, knowing that it was entirely her decision.

tw: smut

//

It was a Saturday night in early December, the kind of the night where the warm, cinnamon scented air of Grayson’s apartment provided a cozy shelter from the brisk winds and light snow flurries dancing around the night sky. The kind of day that Gray and Ness spent practicing, doing homework, and watching a movie before eventually melting into Grayson’s sheet with hot kisses and gentle moans.

Vanessa’s fingertips teased Grayson’s hips when they started to gently tug the edge of his shirt. He smirked into their kisses, sliding his tongue against her bottom lip before pulling back. He adored the wanton look in her eyes when he asked, “Something the matter?”

Vanessa pressed the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek, squinting her eyes slightly. She grabbed handfuls of Grayson’s shirt and tugged again, more forcefully that time. “Can you take it off?” she mewed. Her squinted eyes softened into an innocent look, “For me?”

Grayson chuckled, bringing his hands around to lay on her ass from where she straddled him, “For you?” He smirked smugly and Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Anything for you,” he whispered and leaned forward to kiss her quickly before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side of his bed.

Each time Vanessa saw Grayson shirtless, she was washed with the same blood pumping feeling that she felt the first time. She delicately traced her fingers along the ridges of his abs, feeling her mouth go slightly dry before licking her lips. Her breath was hot. Grayson looked down, watching her fingertips drag against his skin. His eyes met her mouth, he felt himself come undone at the sight of her tongue slide against her lips.

He lifted his head up and trapped her lips in a sloppy, wet kiss where his tongue danced on top of hers while she reached forward with both hands and dragged them along his muscles. His skin was hot to her touch. Grayson reached his arms around her, pulling her down and on top of him as he groaned softly into their kiss. Ness could feel his erection grow under her hips.

Grayson’s erection was the first man’s penis Nessa had ever met: even if it was only through clothes. It intimidated her, made her core shake when she thought about what it could do to her. In the past few weeks, she had grown accustomed to the feeling of his length pressing against her through his shorts; it became familiar to her, comforting in an erotic way.

Ness was settling her hips against the growth in his pants when Grayson reached his hands into her shirt, quickly palming her bra. Grayson pulled away from their sloppy kiss to pout, bulging his bottom lip, and giving her a distinctive set of puppy dog eyes as he tugged on the edge of her shirt, “Please,” he begged, “For me.”

Ness giggled, shaking her head softly while she lifted her shirt off and gently tossed it on the floor. “Hmm,” Grayson smiled softly, palming the cups of her bra. He reached a gentle hand around her neck and pulled her downward so her lips could meet his. Ness met his kiss, making it a slow and loving one. She giggled against his mouth when she felt the clasp of her bra open under Grayson’s hands.

Grayson smiled brightly as he pulled her bra from her body and started to palm her breasts, rubbing his fingers against her nipples and loving watching them harden into little buds under his fingers, “You’re so beautiful,” he looked at her eyes, “All of you.” He kissed her again, loving the soft feeling of her hair swooping down to cover the side of his face.

Ness smiled, blushing softly. She slipped her fingers under the waist band of his shorts, running her palms against his length and taking him in her hands through his boxers.

“Fuck,” Grayson groaned in between her lips.

Ness smirked, softly biting at Grayson’s bottom lip. They had replayed this scenario dozens of times in the past few weeks. One time, they went as far as Grayson taking his length out to let her inspect: an encounter that was more cute and funny than it was sexual or erotic. Something about provoking this reaction out of Grayson made Vanessa feel powerful in a deeply feminine way.

She rubbed his length against her palms a few times before pulling down his shorts, leaving only his boxers. Grayson reached forward, cupping her ass in his hands and leaning upward to kiss her but felt rejected when he noticed her move her head in the other direction, “Something wrong baby?”

Ness took a deep breath. She closed her eyes to inhale. The sight worried Grayson, who was concerned that he had pushed her too far or suggested something she wasn’t comfortable with. He couldn’t stop his expression from reading surprised when she said, “I think-“ she chewed at her bottom lip, “I think I’m ready-uhm-“ she took another breath, “Can we—have sex?”

Grayson’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t think about the answer when he started nodding his head, “Are you sure?”

Ness nodded, “I’m sure.” She swallowed. “It’s going to hurt, right?” She confirmed what he had previously told her in their conversations about intimacy.

Grayson’s tongue brushed against his bottom lip, “I’ll be gentle.” He pulled her down into a sweet kiss, he cupped the sides of her face in his hands and brushed his thumb against her cheek. His lips peeled off hers and pressed gently against her forehead. Nessa closed her eyes and smiled, feeling comforted and warm inside of his arms.

“It’ll help-“ Grayson started, “If I,” his eyes pointed toward her hips, “If I go down on you- It’ll help it go in…easier.” He brushed his thumb against her cheek again. Ness nodded, “Okay.” She smiled softly and kissed his cheek before started to take off her shorts and throw them on the floor.

Before this day, Grayson was also the first man to ever run his tongue against Nessa’s folds. At first, Ness found the sensation weird and odd in a way that puzzled her. After a few sessions, she had grown to love the way Grayson could expertly drive her to the brink of madness in less than ten minutes. Grayson loved seeing her sweet eyes fill with something dark, as he felt her walls pulse against his lips. Grayson’s tongue haunted Nessa in her dreams at night, in a way that nothing else had before.

So when Grayson suggested using his mouth to lubricate her, Nessa was more than willing to lean back on his bed while he perched his head between her thighs. He kissed the inside of her thighs, running his large, warm hands on her soft skin. He bent his head down and kissed her center once before moving his lips to her clit. He kissed her there, pressing his puckered mouth against her little bundle of nerves. He flicked his tongue against it, smirking when he felt Nessa’s body shudder underneath him. He looked up to see her mouth hanging open while she tightly grabbed a fist full of his pillowcase. He flicked his tongue again before licking against her length, leaving her pussy shiny from the wetness of his tongue.

“Gray-oh fuck-fuck-fuuucck Gray!” Ness squealed from underneath him, starting to lift her upper body from the bed when she felt a tight knot of nerves start to build in her core. Grayson responded by sucking on her clit, making a humming noise as he brought his face close to her center. He made a wet sound when his lips let go of her clit and he started lapping her folds. He reached his tongue inside of her center. She responded by knotting her fingers in his hair, pulling on his head, “Gray- oh-please, please Gray- please”. Her begging sounded like music to his ears as he moved a hand to draw circles on her clit while he continued to caress her with his tongue. She felt a heat build in her core, strengthening as the invisible knot inside of her tightened before they both exploded as she tugged roughly on Grayson’s hair, feeling her thighs tremor from around his head, as her pussy started to pulse against his mouth.

Vanessa was breathing hard, mewing softly when she opened her eyes to see the bottom half of Grayson’s face decorated in a wet sheen. He roughly wiped a hand against his face. Her breathing hitched, “Why?—Why did I?” she looked down, “If we were—”

Grayson reached a handout, to gently caress the side of her face. He brushed some of the hair out of her face. In direct opposition to her breathy mewes, his voice was steady, “I didn’t know if you were going to,” he gave a small shrug, “Doesn’t always happen the first time and I-I wanted to make sure you enjoyed it.” He swallowed and gave her a sincere look, “Are you sure Nessie?”

She nodded with his hand still cupped around her face, “I want it. I want it to be with you,” she brought a hand to hold onto his fingers from where they laid on her face, “You.”

Grayson placed a single, sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away. He reached into his nightstand to grab a latex condom in a bright green foil. He shimmied out of his boxers and stretched the condom over his length. Vanessa watched his every movement, swallowing to wet her dry mouth. Putting on a condom looked complicated to her. The entire experience intimidating her, making her palms go sweaty and her fingers shake.

Grayson started to line himself up with her core when she spoke. He pulled back instantly, ready to retreat if it was what she wanted.

“Hey Gray,” she spoke quietly.

“Yeah Ness?”

“I’m really glad it’s with you, I-I’m really glad I have you.” Her words sounded shaky at the end.

Grayson reached out to hold Nessa’s hand in his, “I’m really glad I have you too, Nessie.”

They shared a moment of looking into each other’s eyes, about to pass the point of no return.

“You ready?” Grayson primed.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “Yeah.” Her voice was only a whisper.

Grayson moved at a deliciously slow pace, savoring every moment as he steadily pushed his length inside of her. Ness winced in a sharp breath, feeling something like a stinging stretch surround her core. She folded her face, groaning slightly while Grayson quietly coached, “Almost there baby- I can stop if you want. Tell me to stop if you need it baby.”

Nessa exhaled deeply when Grayson stopped pushing, finally done inching his sizable length inside of her.  He kissed her sweetly on her forehead, “How do you feel?”

“It’s getting better,” Ness commented, feeling the sting subside slightly. She looked down to see where there hips connected, the idea that a part of Grayson was inside of her blew her mind.

They stayed like that, Grayson inside of her but not moving. His kissed her temples sweetly. His body emanated a warmth onto Nessa’s body.

“Can we stay like this forever?” Ness commented quietly, “I like having you close to me.”

Grayson smiled and kissed the top of her nose, “I’m not close to you, I’m inside of you.”

Ness giggled softly. She licked her lips, “So-uh-,” she stuttered, “Are you supposed to—” she waved a finger in the air, “Go like? Back and forth?”

Grayson chucked and tilted his head in a small nod, “Are you ready for that?”

Ness responded by wrapped her arms around his back and fixing her hands on his muscular shoulder blades, “Yeah,” she whispered.

Grayson moved gradually, trying to gauge Nessa’s reaction by the way her face folded as he slowly backed half of his length out of her and back into her. Her fingernails dug into his back, “Gray,” she moaned. He exhaled, “You’re so—oh fuck Ness,” he found a rhythm in the slow movement that felt so good he felt every vein pulsate. Nessa started to feel a small bundle of nerves form in her core again: a feeling that competed with the sting. She dug her nails into his back, started to moan for him in the same rhythm that he called out her name.

“Gray- Oh my God-Oh my Go-Gray!”

“Fuck baby, fuck-“ he gritted his teeth.

Ness watched his face fold in an unnatural way and the thought suddenly hit her: Grayson was nearing his climax. “Are-are you gonna?” she asked, suddenly being awaken from the mixture of arousal and pain she had been concentrated on. Grayson twitched his head in a movement that was meant to mimic a nod, grunting, “Yeah-I’m- fuuuck, can I-?”

Ness swallowed and bit the corner of her mouth, feeling alien in this situation. In a moment of courage, she grabbed onto his shoulders, digging her nails in further into his skin and bringing her lips up to his ear, “Yes baby, please baby, please cum for me babe, I want to make you do it- do it for me baby, please Gray,” she mewed, “For me Gray.”

“Ness!” Grayson called out before falling into a limp mass on top of her chest. His breathing hitched for a moment as he collected himself. She wrapped her arms around him, started to stroke the side of his ear and play with his hair.

He looked up at her, “How do you feel?” His voice sounded like a flat tire.

Ness exhaled, “It kinda hurts, is it supposed to?”

Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it will for a little while. I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” He kissed her head.

Before Ness could continue the conversation, he pulled his length out of her and went to the trash can to discard the condom. On his way there, she noticed the long, thin, red lines that graced his back.

“Gray!”

He turned, startled by her reaction.

“Was that?” she started, “Did I do that to you?”

Grayson chuckled with a knowing look on his face, “Don’t worry about it angel.”

He laid next to her, wrapping her in his arms. He pulled a throw blanket on top of them, carefully setting the fluff down on top of her to cover all of Nessa’s body. He kissed the top of her head when she looked up to ask him, “How was I? Was I-was I good?”

Grayson nodded slowly, “Amazing, wonderful.” He kissed the top of her head again, “You’re everything I could have ever wanted Ness.” She smiled and brought her body closer to him. He decorated her head, face, and neck with tiny, loving kisses. Grayson whispered into her ear as she leaned her head against his shoulder. He rubbed her back, “You’re an angel Ness, an absolute angel.”

[carelessannie]

steve x ofc (maybe it goes like this: dating and mating)

Bucky x Clint | Steve x Annie | Tony x Clint | Peter x Bucky | Tony x Annie | Clint x Steve | Bucky x Annie | Peter x Steve

Read on A03

Read the main story on AO3 and Tumblr

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 1K

Steve x Annie (if you’ve read MiGLT, she’s my ofc)

Before bonding, all six packmates are determined to get to know each other. Steve really likes Annie, but feels pressured to woo her before they take a step further.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, unapologetic fluff and cute dates

---

Maybe it goes like this:

Steve spent three weeks working up the courage to ask Annie out. Bucky still won’t let him live it down. He’s had enough of his idiot mate’s heckling— it’s worth it to take her out right.

It’s also a shame that Annie and Clint go into the city during the week and are usually busy when they’re at the house. Because of this, Steve wants to make tonight the best for his pretty Omega, and he doesn’t give a shit if Bucky thinks he’s being a sap.

Maybe he likes being a sap.

He makes sure to hold her hand the whole time and keep eye contact. A few times, Annie gives him a questioning look when she catches him staring— but honestly, he can’t help it. It’s been so long since he’s dated a woman, and she’s so beautiful. Different than Bucky and Peter in her easy femininity and grace, although no less gorgeous.

Lost in his thoughts about her, he almost misses her ask, “Where are we going, Steve?”

“Oh, uh… it’s kind of a surprise.”

She lightly hits his arm, squeezing his hand, “Okay, okay— keep your secrets, Alpha.”

They stroll around Central Park for awhile before Steve leads them across Gapstow Bridge, up the path, and stops at—

“Oh my god— Steve. It’s still open?” Annie squeals, yanking on his hand, “is this the surprise?”

He chuckles, following her towards the entrance of the ice skating rink, “Yeah, it is. It’s actually the last weekend that Wollman’s is open for the season, so I thought we would—”

“LET’S GO, Steve! C’mon!”

And her enthusiasm ends up being completely justified. She doesn’t even pretend to need help on her skates, and jumps on the ice before he even laces his.

Steve, on the other hand—

“Oof!” he grunts, landing on his ass for the third time.

Ice skating is the work of the devil.

Annie skates up to him, stumbling a bit when she sees him as laughter bubbles out, bright and happy.

“Why are you so bad at this?”

He pouts. He knows it’s sad— a full-ass, Alpha male defeated by just a pair of blades and a sheet of ice.

Asking for help is pointless. The first time Annie tried to pull him up, she ended up sprawled in a heap across his lap. Instead, he sets his shoulders, pulls himself to his knees, and gets a grip on the wall— heaving himself up as he clings to the short, concrete barrier.

“I think,” he pants, getting his feet under him, “I think I need help.”

She’s immediately next to him, slipping under his arm, and adding support to his left side. Her arm snakes around his waist, and he buries his nose in her curly hair. Oh man.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, breathing her sweet Strawberry and Salted Caramel scent.

There’s a little laugh, and she kisses his hand, sending sparks up his arm, “Happy to help, Alpha.”

They skate like that, together, for the rest of their time there, leaning into each other and enjoying the other’s scent. Annie tells him a little about her childhood pack, and Steve tells her about his Ma.

Later, when the skates are off and the two of them are walking through the zoo across the street, Steve looks down into her eyes— soaking in the gentle submission from his beautiful date, and watching her eyelashes flutter under his gaze.

“Did you ever see yourself being mated, Annie?”

She hums in thought, “Most of my life I knew I would be. I never imagined being so compatible with the people I love, and everything about this process feels so right.”

Steve appreciates her words, and turns towards her, putting his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

“Annie, I don’t want you to feel obliged to my pack. I know you love Peter and Clint, and have some natural chemistry with Buck, but you should know that I want you in my pack all the same. You balance us, you center us— hell, you’re strong enough to keep me in check. I value your submission and… I have grown to care for you a hell of a lot. I want to ask you, officially, to be a part of my pack— our pack— not just as a member or mate, but as my bonded. Would you, Annie?”

Her eyes are wide, but there’s a distinct HappyExcitedOmega scent filling the air. Still, she seems unsure.

“Steve, I— can I have some time to think about it?”

Trying not to show his disappointment, Steve nods, “Of course, Omega, please— take all the time you need. I know Tony wants the same with you, too. Just take some time to know us better, okay?”

“Okay, Alpha,” she grins, giving him a wink, “why don’t we go look at the penguins?”

He takes her hand back, “Sounds good, darling, whatever you’d like.”

---

It’s not until a week and a half later, when Steve gets home from work, that he suddenly has his arms full of excited Omega shouting, “Yes! Yes, Steve, yes!”

They settle together on the couch, just the two of them for once, and Annie starts kissing and sucking on his neck.

“What… what, Annie? What is this about?” he groans, reluctant to stop her eager kisses.

She pulls off his neck with a pop! and is absolutely beaming, “Alpha, I wanna bond with you. I decided— I do, I really wanna bond with you.”

Steve feels confused, “Good, sweetheart, I’m so happy… what, uh. What changed your mind?”

“My dad just called me.”

“... oh.”

“I can’t believe you went to see my parents!”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, “of course I did. I asked for their permission— it’s the right thing to do, Annie.”

“I know. And that’s why I want to bond with you, Steve.”

At this, she thrusts forward her left hand—

“I’ll take my ring now.”

[fungusry]

This is probably an odd question so I understand if you don't have an answer or haven't thought of it yet, but does the dentist speak? Or have a regular voice? Cause as we're aware of, there's no real way to tell the difference physically in a monsters ability to speak. Like, the porcelain children in theory can speak, and so can the lady from the first game, and it's implied that the thin man could since he was once called "the broadcaster".

Or likewise would she just screech like the doctor, teacher, janitor, and chefs

Not odd at all! If she were in the game, she wouldn’t speak, and instead let out screeches or squeals when alerted like the Janitor and the Chefs

But I have thought about what she would sound like since she can actually speak! The best I can describe it as is sounding similar to the Vortigaunts from Half Life, only at a higher pitch as to sound feminine

She speaks slowly and with a distinctive pause between some of her words (Ex: “I can... hear... pests in my... office...”)

[demoncryptspanties]

Time After Time

part 3

Masterlist, Part1, Part 2

A/N okay I apologise for this chapter being sort of short, I think there will be like another 3 or 4 after this but enjoy.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

This bliss seemed to last the whole 3 years. You and Ambrose seemed to be joined together by fate. The two of you participated in Lupercalia once, in your last year but again it wasn’t the best night the two of you had together. Lilac’s course was an extra year due to her indiscretions leading her to fail the potion class which she decided to retake so the two of you had remained close.

She acted as the family you didn’t have, excusing Angelica, and Tom became a close friend. You hadn’t spoken to your mother at all, your father at least once a month but even keeping to that seemed difficult due to how busy the both of you were. Your parents had divorced, that seeming like the best option and your father had moved back to his old home, a relic on the edge of the witch’s territory.

Jude had yet to take his place as high priest and therefore although you could have visited you decided against it. The hostility that would have come from the community especially your mother would have been too much and whereas if you went alone it would have been bad, taking Ambrose would have been even worse.

Your time at the school was calm, as normal as you would expect it to be, you kept to the curfew after that night and kept the Friday tradition of going to the river. The weather was always good there, the sky blue and just warm enough. Above all Ambrose made you feel safe and at home, never bored because he would always be around the corner with somewhere new to explore or something new to talk about. Overall, you would argue that it was the best 3 years of your life. You had grown and matured and your relationship by most standards was pretty perfect.

The only thing is that he had yet to introduce you to any of his family. Although close to his aunts who had agreed to house you after your course, you had yet to see let alone meet them. His uncle, as distant as he is didn’t seem bothered about you either.

It was days after your final piece was due, you were now waiting for the results of your efforts. Ambrose had tried to keep you as occupied as he could after you had submitted it but you both had given up after day two and decided to stay in the house until you go the letter. You were comfortable snuggled into Ambrose’s shoulder as he was turned away from you. Your hands drew patterns across his chest and stomach, still in a sleepy haze.

“I am probably the most skilled person you have ever met when it comes to apparitions” He mumbled turning to you with a playful smirk.

“You are an arrogant man and I hope this lie haunts you forever.” You said offering him a lazy smile.

“Stop being so dramatic. I am probably the best in the house at apparitions.” He pulled you closer, one of his hands resting on your cheek.

“Look, I have gotten better so that is actually a gross overstatement of your abilities.” He pulled you onto of him, making you gasp and giggle. You gave him a quick peck before moving out of his arms.

“Prove it.” He said. Raising your eyebrow slightly, you conjured a set of fish almost identical to the ones in the river where you first met. They swam close to him and then in a spiral moving towards the ceiling and then back down to circle him and dissipate near the floor.

“Okay, I admit, you have gotten better. But I also have.” He raised his hands muttering under his breath. Schools of fish filled the room, chasing each other and moving in circles around you. He included coral and seaweed on the floor and a bigger fish at towards the ceiling. Although the room itself was small, the abundance of glowing fish made it seem marginally larger.

Your eyes were full of wonder staring at them, but while the apparitions themselves took a large amount of concentration he was focussed on you and your reactions. Truthfully, he had been trying to do this at this scale for a year now, it’s more difficult when you have no visible reference to go back to. More so if you haven’t got material of the whatever you are trying to replicate. The look on your face was worth the trouble.

You two had stayed together as a pair the entire day showing each other small charms and spells while gorging on fruits and wine. It was truly a day to remember and you did years later when it mattered the most.

The following day brought the results of your final piece. While the marks weren’t as high as you were hoping, you passed and that was enough. When you had received the letter from the academy for gifted students, Ambrose had been quick to wrap his arms around you, lips against your hair. He had read through the piece itself and being a prodigy himself he was beyond proud of you. His exacts words were “This includes such precision in emotion, you really must have drawn from your own experience. It is raw and authentic which is something you cannot teach. It’s good, and I’m not just saying that because I love you”

The following day consisted of you and him packing. You had already booked a place on a boat back to America feeling the urge to go back to a warmer country. Although you had learned to love many aspects of your time here, the weather was not it. You didn’t think you would ever get used to the constant change, you could never just look at the sky and conclude that it would not rain today because an hour later you would be soaked and an hour after that there could be such intense heat you would think you were in Egypt.

You also had decided to move in with Ambrose. The Aunties were happy to have you and his uncle was happy to have you join the coven. Although bittersweet to some degree you had spoken with your dad who was happy with the outcome, after you had promised to visit him.

The three-day journey to the docks was overall grimy and boring. Although Ambrose did his best to keep you as occupied as he could, his love of napping and your inability to get comfortable in the carriage meant that you for at least 4 hours each day you had no company, so you wrote. A habit you picked up when you started the course in order to both practise and fill time when you had little to do. Most of it was nonsense, sometimes you would come out with the odd poem you were proud of but other times it was just a collection of nothing.

Unloading to put on the boat which Ambrose had insisted on doing himself and waiting around for the boat to actually leave itself had given you time to sort out your thought of the last 3 days. You had filled the notebook with mostly nonsense thoughts which you tore out unless the brought back a specific feeling you wanted to remember. You set your notebook down on the cabin and passed out the minute your head hit the bed in your cabin.

Ambrose had wanted to see the boat go off, so he didn’t join you until later when you were already asleep. Still feeling awake due to him napping not 3 hours earlier he pottered around the cabin. At first, picking up a book from the bottom of your trunk but he soon turned his attention to the stuffed notebook on the desk.

He sifted through it settling on one which he had actually watched you write.

Like horses, they rode into the sun as if they knew nothing was wrong,

But when hand in hand they appeared with passion and the whole universe turned to gather.

They watched the star's fashion a rope to tether themselves together.

And when they died, they watched as the stars burned brighter than forever.

And when there was not a spec left the universe still remembered,

The two broken stars who went into the sun and came out together.

He pocketed the paper thinking that you wouldn’t miss it that much with all the other things in there and how he watched you throw out half the things you wrote. He thought you were good, he thought you were more than good. Probably better than himself though he would never admit that. He found it unfair that your gender had prohibited you from studying at Oxford, more so that even at the witch’s school you had not been judged fairly due to you being better than the male students. Although you kept with tradition and still did mostly what seemed as more feminine subjects, it wasn’t unusual to find women in the writing course or the conjuring course and therefore it would make sense that by this point they would judge fairly but they had not.

In his opinion, you were robbed of a distinction but of course, he was biased. He saw everything you did as perfect, better than perfect and connected deeply with all the writing. Most likely because it was often about him, but when it was ambiguous enough you didn’t admit that, saying something along the lines of “I was embodying the character of that book I was reading.”

He looked over at your sleeping form, eyes full of warmth and adoration. Your head was snuggled into the pillow. You couldn’t have been comfortable, with the terrible wooden bed so with a spell he piled you up on an artificial mattress. His Aunt Hilda had taught him to do it a few years ago for this exact reason, something about moss feeling like a cloud underneath you.

You hadn’t met either of them yet, but after 3 years of knowing Ambrose, they felt like they knew you. He had mentioned you in every one of his letters since you had met, and you featured in every mirror conversation he had with them. They had been ecstatic when he told them you two were together, even Zelda squealed a little in excitement. Definitely overshadowed by Hilda’s own joy.

It was for this reason that he took your hand mirror and opened a link to Hilda’s own mirror. She was greeted by Zelda who had been expecting him.

“Sorry dear, Hilda is just writing a list of questions so that she knows what to cook Y/N when she gets here.” Zelda had a sly smirk on her face.

“It’s good to see you too auntie. Is there anything you would like to ask before we get there,” you shuffled slightly in your sleep getting used to the new noise of quiet conversation among the sound of the sea.

“Yes well. What is her favourite colour, we cannot have her feeling uncomfortable in her own room?” Zelda lit a pipe holding it to her lips before blowing out and obscuring his view.

“Peach but I don’t think that matters. She can just sleep in my room, with me.” Ambrose said after a few beats.

“No that won’t do. Your room still doesn’t have a bed and I will not have you having sex in my house.” Zelda’s eyes twinkled slightly despite her blunt wording.

“We are witches and warlocks what about Lupercalia. Isn’t sexuality encouraged?” Ambrose himself shared the same twinkle. Hilda entered the room a moment after.

“I suppose your right” Zelda said nothing more moving to let her sister sit closer to the mirror.

“Okay well first of all hello Ambrose. Is that her in the back, ooo, she’s pretty, move the mirror a little.” He moved the mirror upwards and turned it around giving them a full view of you. You were in the same position as before, face slightly obscured by the pillow.

“Yes, she is pretty, more so when you can see her whole face,” He chuckled lightly as if remembering a moment.

Hilda put him out of his daze shuffling her paper slightly and frowning to herself, “Okay well does she eat meat.”

“Yes.” His gaze was more towards you than Hilda himself. He often did this in the morning. Even though he loves his sleep, he somehow still manages to wake up a good hour earlier than you. Sometimes he’ll just sit for the full hour staring and thinking, other times you wake up because of his stare but most of the time he writes.

You never seem to see what he writes even though at times you watch him do it, he even reads some pieces out to you but the various notebooks that he actually writes them in you can never find. Not that you were looking.

Zelda and Hilda had gotten into a little spat, so Ambrose was free to lose himself in you, “Ambrose, just what doesn’t she eat. That would be an easier question.” Zelda said clearly, overtaking Hilda’s small protests.

“Nothing, she isn’t that keen on pork but not so much that she wouldn’t eat it if given to her,” Zelda gave her sister a stern look and got up to leave. The two said their goodbyes to him, Hilda promising to make a magnificent meal.

He felt the need to be close to you after that, huddling behind your body, he put an arm over your stomach, you snuggle deeper into him with a soft hum. The sway of the ship and warmth of your bodies on each other lulled you both to sleep.

The journey from there seemed to come so much quicker than you would have hoped. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the Spellman household, while Ambrose was shaking with what you thought was anticipation, you were so lightheaded if it wasn’t for Ambrose’s grip on you, you probably would have fallen over.

The door opened before he could reach to knock, revealing a blonde woman with a large smile. “Ambrose darling and you must be Y/N” It was as if her smile healed you because you perked up immediately.

“Yes, that is me. Aunt Hilda right” A shy smile revealed itself as Ambrose held your hand a little tighter.

“Yes. By Satan’s horns, you are so pretty. You really weren’t lying Ambrose. She’s like a doll.” You giggled slightly at the compliment, another figure this time red-headed emerging behind her.

“Let’s not scare her before she enters the house Hilda and stop smothering her.” Zelda had a teasing smile on her face, leading the two of you into the house with your luggage floating an inch off the ground next to you.

Ambrose put a reassuring hand on your back and gave you a quick peck before walking a couple steps in front of you. Selene wrapped herself tighter on your arm mirroring your own nervousness.

The evening consisted of you unpacking, a quick meal of beef stew from Hilda but no visit from Ambrose’s uncle who had said he was going to be there. Ambrose didn’t seem fussed about it but you held his and the whole way through dinner regardless.

By the time you were settled in bed, you were beyond knackered. The sky was pitch black, the moon not offering a soft glow that night which did little to ease your nervousness. You fell asleep easily in your own room and remained in a dreamless slumber the entirety of the night.

When you woke it seemed to be about midday, Ambrose choosing not to wake you since you seemed so tired. You wrapped yourself with one of his robes and proceeded downstairs to the kitchen. A man in a suit with a mischievous but inviting smile was sitting at the table opposite Ambrose on the table you ate dinner. Zelda was sitting on his left, but Hilda was nowhere to be seen.

You walked down carefully not to disturb the conversation, pulling the robe tighter around you and settling down on Ambrose’s right putting a hand on his shoulder so he knew you were there. He put a hand almost passively on your thigh under the table the conversation stopping.

You put a handout and introduced yourself, he did the same offering you a soft smile when he took your hand. He was Ambrose’s uncle Edward. The reason he gave to missing dinner was that he was in a meeting, but the way Ambrose explained to you while he looked with the same smile suggested otherwise.

Edward had asked about your schooling with a distant interest which led to an hour-long conversation which seemed to make Ambrose increasingly uncomfortable and leading to Zelda practically throwing him out of the house with the guise that he had another meeting.

You turned to him with a worried expression, “Ambrose what did I miss. What did he say?”

He seemed to contemplate something for a moment, his fingers drumming on the table lightly before he answered. “He isn’t exactly happy that I stayed for such a long time with no actual purpose. He’ll be okay in a few days. Anyways you said we would go to meet Angelica next week and then you wanted to go across to Central America for a year.”

“Yeah, there’s a coven of witches somewhere there who are experts in healing charms and herbology whom I’d like to do research with.”

“Central America is a big place to look for a small coven.” Although he didn’t seem distant in the conversation there still seemed to be something weighing on him.

“That is why we are going to see my sister, she studied there during my second year. She said she would set us up and whatever and I’m getting way too ahead of myself, aren’t I?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your head, “No. Well yes but we already agreed that you were going but I got an offer to go to Rome for something or another. I really want to go, and it would make sense since that coven is basically all women and its more your forte than mine.”

You cut him off with a peck, “That’s fine, it works out great, are you going to go for the full year or?”

“Yeah, yeah the full year. I’ll go with you to meet Angelica but after that, we shall diverge.”

You hummed lightly and finished your tea.

The next week was comfortable for you. In a way you felt more at home than you ever had, staying with the aunties had given you new people to know and a new environment to explore. It seemed like the beginning of a journey that you were happy to take.

Ambrose seemed a little distant but his happiness to see you never wavered, he was just busy with something which is the excuse he gave to you, but you didn’t push. You had yet to see his uncle again, but it seemed for the best like the aunties were deliberately ushering you around so you wouldn’t run into him.

The day it came for the two of you to leave it didn’t seem any different, the aunties said goodbye with sincerity and the two of you left to meet your sister.

The journey seemed longer than expected but easy once you passed into central America. She was staying in a small town by the border to meet you, but it seemed more like a village. The locals were kind and you found your way to her quickly.

She opened the door like she had sensed you there and ushered you inside out of the heat. “So, my favourite siblings how good it is to see you after all this time.”

You both raised an eyebrow at her remark but neither of you commented on it.” Well,, Angelica, we spoke yesterday, and I was busy packing. Also, I’m your only sibling, I have to be your favourite.”

“Yeah well you make it rather difficult,” she said with a smirk. Before you were able to respond she addressed Ambrose with a much more serious tone. “So, you’re leaving us for Rome then?”

“Yup, I’m leaving tomorrow when you go on your way to the coven.” Angelica seemed unnerved about his statement and shuffled uncomfortably in her seat.

“Just be careful. I don’t have a good feeling about Europe in general in all honesty.” You both looked at her in a little confusion but after a second Angelicas, serious nature seemed to dissipate as quickly as it appeared, and her friendly nature was back.

The three of you spoke a little but retired to bed early. Ambrose had left before you woke up but kissed your forehead and left a note saying that he loved you before he left. You couldn’t help but feel as if there was something wrong but didn’t think too much of it.

You left that day, starting off by car and then moving on foot for the remainder of the journey. It took you about 2 days to get there and you were greeted by women from all different places.

The women held a feast for the two of you and your education started the next day. It was done in three components, the first being herbs, mixtures and whatnot. Your teacher reminded you a lot of Hilda, she was smart and kind, forever with a warm smile on her face. The second was hexing, turns out while also wreaking havoc they could be used for good if you knew what to do. The third was summoning, although demon summoning was something you were familiar with there were, any other beings that you could summon that would be of a different help.

Your first week was spent learning these things, with no word from Ambrose. The aunties hadn’t heard from him either which made you worry a little, but it had only been a week. The next couple of weeks were the same. You had joined Angelica with taking over responsibilities of day to day living and settled in well there. Everyone was kind and loving and you felt very much at home here.

You had spoken to Ambrose twice, he seemed distant but about the same as usual. You again thought nothing of it which should have been the first clue that something was wrong.

You had been at the coven for about half a year when the aunties contacted you. Ambrose and you had spoken once a week, up until it became once every two weeks and every now and again, he forgot. The distance between you two had dissipated but he was still distracted.

You hadn’t heard from him for 3 weeks when the aunties told you to come back. You got back to their house in record time. The women of the coven said that you were welcome back any time and let you leave with a gentle understanding of why. Angelica said that she would leave in a week to her small apartment near you to be there if you needed her.

[ancientbooshartifacts]

It's Not a Dirty Word

Author: Glitter_Slut_X

Year: 2009

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Howince

Thump! Thump!

Howard sat up, disoriented and glanced over at the clock. It read 3:47am. He stilled his breathing for a moment as silence prevailed, then it happened again.

Thump! Thump!

Little squealing noises were coming from the room next to him. Vince's room, he realised, fully adjusted to the dim light after being so rudely jerked out of a deep sleep.

“Ohhh! Yeaaaah, harder harder, oh God!”

Even though nobody was in the room with him, Howard felt his whole face burning with embarrassment. He didn't doubt what was going on in the room next to him. Hell, he'd heard Vince having sex plenty of times before, he'd think he'd be used to it by now, but there was something unsettling about this particular time. Usually it was the girls Vince brought home that would scream and moan their way through the night, the distinct feminine and high-pitched voices would give it away, but this time, the noises that were being elicited from the room across were unmistakably from... a man. And this man was Vince.

Which meant he was the one being fucked.

Which, in turn, meant that the person who was fucking him was another man.

Another throaty groan filled the air, and loud, hard slaps followed a split second after. Howard put a pillow around his head, and over his ears in an effort to drown out the sound. But no avail. Vince was very loud. Howard sighed.

10 minutes later, Vince and his staminate companion were still at it, and by this time, Howard was quickly losing patience. He was so tired, he felt sick and he just knew he would fall asleep in a split second only if those two weren't thumping away next door. It was kinda wrong, but he knew if he wanted to get any sleep, he would have to give them a bit of a talking to.

* *

Okay, so the “talking to” didn't quite go as planned. In fact, if “standing outside Vince's room and listening in” meant giving a “talking to,” which it doesn't, then Howard was doing exactly that. He knew deep down that he felt like the biggest pervert in the world, but he tried dissipate this theory by convincing himself that he was just “waiting for the right opportunity” to tell Vince to keep it down. He pressed his ear harder against the wooden door... all in the name of catching the right opportunity, of course.

“Hold on, swap positions.” He heard Vince's darkened voice say, followed by some rustling and wet, sucking sounds.

“Eh yeahh... just... just a bit harder... can-can you... touch me... no, not there... in my... yeah... now crook your fingers a bit and OH FUCK, I'M COMING!!”

Howard's eyes widened as he heard the filthiest, most perverse words and sounds spill from Vince's mouth, and before he knew it, a cheerful, bobbing erection was jutting out from his pyjama pants. He didn't know if he should be shocked or disgusted by the fact, but before he could stop himself, he had slowly turned the doorknob and peeked through the tiny gap (see, there are some advantages of having small eyes), just in time to see a thin stranger slide his turgid cock inside Vince. The first thrust made Vince pant, the second made him cry out, and on the third, he threw his head back, giving Howard a clear view of his expression; his raven locks glistening with perspiration, red mouth wide open, sultry eyes squeezed shut as he rocked back and forth against the man's penis.

This was wrong.

This was so incredibly wrong.

Here he was, Howard watching his best friend having sex uninvited, and he was getting turned on by it. Yes, he was fucking getting off on it, Vince being fucked hard and thrown around the bed by some faceless stranger. Howard eyes flickered down to Vince's angry-looking, leaking erection and watched in captivation as he jerked himself in tandem with the strangers thrusts.

“Fuck me! I'm not fragile, come on, I love it rough!”

Howard couldn't imagine how Vince could be physically capable of taking it any harder. He'd explored his own lower anatomy before and found one finger up there excruciatingly painful. He couldn't imagine having a 7-8 inch cock up there, let alone it being pleasurable by any means.

Howard's cock was leaking through his pyjama pants now, and he itched to touch himself. He watched as Vince wanked himself frantically, whispering “s'close, s'close.”

Howard was touching himself now, a cool hand down his pyjama pants, wrapping around his hard, aching cock. He resisted the urge to groan in pleasure, so he bit his lip, stifling any sounds.

If Naboo or Bollo were to walk past right now, Howard would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. And considering the close proximity of their rooms to Vince's, it was a likely scenario.

Oh well, fuck it.

Howard was practically thrusting into his palm now, unconsciously in time with Vince's jerks. He was so close, he could feel the heat spread in waves through his body, rushing toward his groin. Vince came with a silent cry, blue, glistening eyes shooting wide open as a stream of milky cum spurted from his cock and splattered onto his hand and sheets below. Howard clenched his teeth, praying to Mary-mother-of-fucking-God not to make a sound as his balls tightened, and the heat boiled over in his crotch, spurting all over his hand and probably the carpet beneath. As Vince collapsed onto the strangers chest, Howard hurried back to his room and climbed into bed, fighting the urge to cry with shame as Vince's soft snores filled his synapses.

He didn't get back to sleep that night.

* *

Howard's eyes followed the blonde stranger as he leant down and pecked Vince on the lips before striding out of the front door. He made a face as Vince strutted back to the kitchen with the biggest I-got-laid-last-night-and-it-was-fucking-fantastic look on his face, humming along as he buttered a warm croissant.

This was awkward.

Even though Vince was acting like Howard was merely an inanimate object in his presence, Howard still felt embarrassed. His mind whirled with paranoid thoughts. Maybe Vince was deliberately ignoring him because he saw Howard spying on him last night? Nah, he realised after a moment. If Vince did catch him out, he would definitely know about it, and so would the rest of the world.

Vince plonked himself down opposite Howard and started gnawing on his croissant.

“Ma Gooe 'oward, oo 'ould've seen mphfff, mpphhff-”

“For fuck sake, don't speak with your mouth full!”

Vince looked taken back, staring at Howard in shock with his cheeks comically puffed and cream smeared around his mouth. In fact, Howard was a bit taken back aswell. He had no idea where that outburst came from. Vince swallowed, still staring stupidly. Howard wished he wouldn't do that. Vince's outrageously large eyes made him extremely nervous.

“I-I'm sorry, shouldn't of snapped like that. I'm just a bit tired, is all...” Howard apologised, grimacing. Don't look at me like that, just please, don't.

“Oh, so you did hear me and that spunk rat going at it?” Vince was smiling now, not in a good way though. It was the kind of smile that sent shivers down Howard's spine.

“What-no.” Howard denied. “I was just-I had too much coffee, I wasn't listening-I didn't even-”

“'S okay, we were pretty loud. If it makes you feel be'er I'm tired as all hell, and my ass kills. Imagine that?”

He laughed, and took another bite of his croissant. Howard felt something tingly and warm spread throughout his body as he watched Vince lick the cream off his lips slowly, and then put his fingertip into the streaming pastry, bringing another dollop of cream to his lips, sucking it off his finger tauntingly.

“How the fuck can that feel good!?” Howard blurted out. Vince glanced up, looking perplexed.

“Huh?”

“You know, having something up there...”

Vince cocked his head.

“Oh, bumming, sodomy, buggery, having a penis in your anus for Christ sake!” Howard exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat up. Vince's expression went from perplexed to amused.

“Why? D'ya wanna find out?” Vince said huskily, leaning toward Howard.

“What!? Certainly not!” Howard cried, screwing his face up in disgust. What? He didn't actually want to- did he?

“So you DID listen in last night. Did you like the way I moaned? Did you touch yourself while thinking of me, doing it, getting fucked hard and so good?”

“Well, I-” Howard's mind was swimming, and Vince grinning victoriously wasn't helping. He knew it was over, that this was the pinnacle of his shame, that Vince was going to tell everyone that he was a closet gay virgin who perved on his best friend.

“Do you want me to show you how good it can be? Do you want me to fuck you?”

There it was. Vince was practically touching lips to his right now. He could feel his erection poke through his jeans, wanting attention.

“Know you want it, you dirty bitch.” Oh Lordy, now Vince was grabbing at his crotch, massaging it firmly, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

“V-Vince, you can't just touch somebody on their penis without asking and oh-” Howard's eyes rolled back into their sockets as Vince unpopped the buttons of his beige pants and dipped a cool hand beneath, fingertips dancing over the turgid flesh inside.

“Mmm, that alright?” Vince whispered, panting as he stroked Howard's impression erection.

“Mm, good, I-I mean, don't you think th-this a bit forward, at least let me t-take you out to dinner fir-”

“Oh shut-it Howard. Want to fuck you. Get those clothes off now.”

Howard nodded dumbly and practically ripped his vest and trousers off. He blushed as Vince eyed up and down his naked body, licking his glossed lips.

“You're well equipped, ain't you Moon?”

Howard felt his chest swell with pride at these words, but this was soon forgotten when Vince slinked forward and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. An unmanly noise left Howard's mouth as Vince wet his lips and took the tip into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“C-Christy!” Howard blurted out, bucking upwards into Vince's hot mouth. He felt Vince laugh around his penis and suck harder. After a few delicious moments, Vince withdrew, much to Howard's distress, and peered up, smiling cheekily.

“Mmm, you taste good.” He purred, licking his lips. “Now, I'm gonna do something now, but you can't get freaked out okay?”

Christ Vince, you can do anything you bloody well want, just, for all things sacred and holy, don't stop doing that thing you were doing with your mouth! Howard had the urge to scream this, but instead resorted to merely nodding. Looking satisfied, Vince took two fingers to his mouth and sucked on them gently before bringing them to Howard's virgin entrance.

“P-please be gentle.” Howard whimpered as Vince's slick fingers traced over his entrance. The smaller man dipped his head up and gave Howard a soft kiss on the lips.

“It'll hurt a little at first, k. But it'll be so worth it, I promise.”

Howard shuddered as Vince massaged his hole teasingly before easing a fingertip inside. His immediate reaction was to clench up at the intrusion, but relaxed a little when Vince started kissing down his chest, taking a detour to lick and suck on a nipple.

“Ohh...” Now Vince was wriggling and twisting his finger about, trying to get in further.

“Christ Howard, you're so tight.” Vince whispered, frowning. “We're gonna need something... hold on.”

The dull pain was suddenly gone, and Howard heard trotting of boots, then a loud, “FUCK!” Vince returned to the room with an empty tube and a crestfallen look on his face.

“Out.” He said simply, tossing the tube to the side. “I don't usually do this, but I'm gonna do it anyway, cos I'm so not getting cooking oil all over my dick... that's well disgusting. Come 'ere.”

Before Howard had a chance to ask for an explanation, Vince had dragged him over to the sofa and pushed him down into an awkward sitting position, with his legs up slightly.

“Vince, what are you d-”

“Gonna rim you 'Oward.” Vince muttered, seating himself between Howard's legs.

“You're gonna WHAT me- ohh, OH!”

Suddenly, the most incredible, but filthy sensation washed over Howard, and he whimpered, driving his hips down against Vince's wet, probing tongue.

“Ohh, G-god Vince.” Howard didn't dare to look down. Just the sight of Vince tongue-fucking him, making him dirty and open and so good, would be enough to make him come. Vince pushed in again, breaching the tight ring of muscle, feeling Howard open up for him more and more. By the end of it, Howard was a trembling mess begging to be fucked, sucked, anything, Oh Lordy, just anything to make him fucking come.

“Alright, gonna fuck you now 'Oward.” Vince panted, practically tearing off his skinnies and shirt infront of the older man. Howard's cock jumped. There was something so primal and forbidden about his best friend standing infront of him, leaking cock inches away from his lips, wearing nothing but red cowboy boots. Impulsively, Howard's tongue flicked out, tasting Vince for the first time. After a few coy licks, Howard hesitantly closed his mouth around Vince's length and tried to repeat what Vince did to him in the kitchen. Despite the fact he had never done anything like this before, Vince seemed satisfied with his performance, moaning and clutching at Howard's hair, guiding him to go faster or slower, softer or harder.

“Christ, not bad for a virgin.” Vince observed as Howard withdrew and looked up, licking his swollen lips. “How d'ya wanna do this? Cos I figure if it's your first time, you should at least choose the position, although, I personally would go for doggy... easy to wank in. You do know what that is, right?” He added cautiously.

Howard's expression went blank.

“Vince, I may be a virgin, but I'm not a complete fucking moron.” He stated. Vince shrugged.

“Just askin'... on your hands and knees Moon.”

Hesitantly, Howard shifted his body around on the couch and got into position. He twisted his head shyly, looking at Vince.

“Christ Howard, d'ya know how fuckin' hot you look right now?” Vince was running his fingertips over the older mans butt cheeks, stopping to slap the pink flesh. “Your ass is well sexy. Sexiest I've ever seen, apart from mine of course.” Howard took that as a definite compliment; he didn't doubt that Vince had seen a lot of asses in his lifetime.

Vince spat onto his hand and briefly coated his cock before lining himself up to Howard's asshole. He rubbed Howard's back soothingly as he pushed in slowly, feeling the tight ring of muscle cease up then relax, allowing his cock-head to slide in. He could hear Howard swear into a cushion, and Vince mentally kicked himself for using up all the lube on that twink last night. If lube was involved, he'd be fucking Howard hard and fast by now.

“Y'okay?” Howard nodded shakily, focusing his attention on relaxing his body. He felt Vince ease out and then push back in. The burn wasn't as bad this time. Vince did this a few more times until Howard could feel hair tickling his rim.

“Fucking hell, Howard.” Vince groaned from behind, starting to thrust properly now. “You feel s'good, so tight and hot... I could come right now.”

“Oh, please don't.” Howard whimpered in response. That'd be a tragedy, Vince blowing his load before him. Afterall, Howard was supposed to be the virgin here.

After a few experimental thrusts to get Howard used to it, Vince leant down to Howard's ear.

“I'm gonna show you something.” Vince panted, before angling his hips downwards.

“OH!” Howard's eyes shot wide open as the most incredible sensation erupted somewhere in his body. “Christ, do that again!”

Vince did more than that. He grabbed Howard's turgid cock and pumped him hard, in tandem with his thrusts.

“Oh Jesus!” Howard panted, his mind going fuzzy from the sheer deliciousness of Vince's cock banging against his prostate. After three more thrusts, he could feel a tingling sensation building up in his spine.

“Fuck Vince, I'm gonna come!”

“Me too!” Vince panted. “Come with me.”

Vince pumped Howard harder, his thrusts getting more frantic and desperate. He dug his nails into the older man's thigh, seconds away from the edge.

“Now Howard!”

Howard came with a high-pitched shout, his cum splattering all over Naboo's purple couch. Vince gasped as Howard's asshole tightened around him, engulfing him, milking him. He exploded with a wail, and rocked Howard back and forth over his penis, riding his orgasm out. He collapsed beside the older man, chest falling up and down.

“What the fuck was that?” Howard asked after a while.

“That, Howard,” Vince said, grinning, “was the beginning of many years of great, mind-blowing sex.” Howard turned, facing the younger man.

“Oh... OH.” He said in realisation. “Does this mean we're gonna, y'know, do this again then?”

“Course!” Vince laughed, stroking Howard's chest. “Was hoping we could make this a regular thing. D'ya have any idea how long I've wanted to bum you? For ages, Howard.”

Howard nodded in understanding and stroked Vince's hair. Amazingly, Vince didn't scream at him something rotten for this.

“Okay, as long as I get to be on top next time.” He said moments later, smiling as last nights' memories of a sweaty, dishevelled Vince being fucked played in his mind.

The End.

[especially-heinous-ada]

Mankiller, Part 5

Hello there! I’m back again, with Part 5! Frederick and Sylvia’s dinner date has ended, and Sylvia invited Frederick in. After some back and forth banter, they’re both ready to stop playing around and get down to business. Sylvia, determined to get Frederick under her spell and secure an information source by using her feminine charms, and Frederick, intent on enjoying a good thing while it lasts. Here’s your big, fat NSFW WARNING! Nearly 5,000 words of utter smut. Enjoy, lovelies! <3

Taglist: @madpanda75

****

Frederick’s mind was bustling with thoughts, all scrambling to get to the front of his consciousness, like a subway platform packed with ornery passengers. This night had already been unbelievable. For the first time in however long, Frederick had gone on a date. With an actual woman. An attractive one, at that. One who wanted to have sex with him.

He wouldn’t have believed it, but here stood the evidence, right in front of him. The evidence clothed only in a lacy thong and a pair of high heels. The same evidence that was now pressing her breasts against him so that their naked chests met, and he could feel her soft warmth.

“What are you going to do now?” Sylvia repeated, one eyebrow raised in anticipation. Her voice was as smooth as silk as she egged him on. There was a playful note of challenge in her voice—as if she was just daring him to take her. At that thought, Frederick let out a low groan. How desperately he wanted her...but he was afraid.

Afraid of what? He asked himself. She’s already seen your scar, and that didn’t stop her. If that isn’t enough, I don’t know what is.

He allowed himself to concede just a little. Reaching his hands up, he entwined them in her soft locks. She took this as an invitation to steal a kiss. And what an exquisite kiss it was.

It was tender. So tender Frederick could almost fool himself into believing it was full of emotion for him. Though it was a pleasant idea, Frederick was no foolish young boy, and he knew better than to believe a woman like Sylvia could truly be interested in a man like him. For her, he was a means to an end. Her temporary flare of passion, a barter for the information he could give her. He tried not to be bitter as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He pulled away from her kiss to look into her eyes and found that in this light, they glittered ever so slightly. A sheepish smile played at Sylvia’s lips, as if she knew she had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. His heart did an odd skip to see such a genuine expression from her. He found it endearing.

Sylvia wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was about the doctor’s eyes when he looked into hers, but it made her feel vulnerable. There was no use trying to dance around what she was doing here. They both knew that she was coming onto him. And they both knew why. So why did she care if he found her likeable? Why did she want to know the reason he looked at her so intensely when she revealed her scar to him?

It doesn’t matter. Sylvia reasoned. This is for my mission. That’s all. She steeled up her resolve, determined not to feel anything for the boastful doctor. But it was difficult, with him continuing to look at her with such a penetrating gaze.

That’s it. Frederick decided. It’s time to stop being afraid. Stop hesitating and running away from a good thing. You deserve for something good to happen in your life, Frederick.

As if on cue, Sylvia’s hand slid down his torso, stopping to unbutton his trousers. He heard the distinct sound of unzipping and she tugged the trousers down, making a triumphant little hmph noise as they hit the floor. He gave a chuckle, thinking how cute the little sound was. It wasn’t long, though, before Sylvia returned to her devices, and he was no longer laughing. She slyly slipped into the band of his boxers and took him in her hand. He moaned as she slowly stroked him to attention. On hearing the sound, she smirked.

“You like that.” It was a statement, rather than a question. Her confidence had certainly returned in full force. Frederick nodded as she continued to arouse him.

“You’re very good at that.” He observed. It certainly didn’t hurt that it had been some time since he was last touched in this way.

“If you like that, you’ll really like what comes next.” She said in a soft, sensual tone. Frederick’s breath caught for a moment in anticipation. He felt Sylvia’s other hand slip under the thin fabric, and she pulled it down, freeing him so that he was fully naked in front of her. He stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked off his shoes.

“Well, hello, doctor.” Sylvia said playfully, returning to stroking him, eyes fixed on her handiwork. “Color me impressed.” Before Frederick could think of what to say in response, Sylvia lowered onto her knees and licked a stripe up the side of his shaft. The sensation as she subsequently took him into her mouth rendered all logical thought hopeless, and he gave up on the idea of a witty retort. The most he could manage was a long groan as she sucked harder, bobbing up and down.

He watched as she sucked him, unable to believe his incredible fortune. She stopped moving for a moment, and her eyes darted up, searching his face for a reaction, and he grinned.

“Well, you’re right. I definitely like this.” He breathed. She hummed around him, resuming her movement and Frederick damn near lost it. His fingers laced through her hair, lazily following her as she moved. Her hands squeezed his thighs, then moved up and slapped his ass. His hips bucked forward in response, and she gagged slightly; he was bigger than she’d anticipated.

He started to apologize as Sylvia released him, but she shook her head, insisting he was just fine. She rose and stood before him, licking her lips as she met his gaze. He found it impossible not to focus on where those lips had just been.

“That way.” Sylvia said, pointing behind him.

“Huh?” Frederick asked, confused. She pointed behind him once again.

“Bedroom’s that way, doctor.” She explained. “Unless you don’t want me, after all?”

“Oh, no, I definitely do.” He affirmed, his response bringing back her cocky little smirk.

“Then show me.” The impish challenge reawakened the same boldness Frederick had felt earlier. He looped his fingers in the sides of the last bit of lace that covered her and tugged it down. She tossed it aside without a second glance, and shed her heels, then looked into Frederick’s eyes expectantly. Once again, he grabbed her and hiked her up, resting her thighs on his hips. She wrapped her legs around him and he slid his hands to her ass, giving it an enthusiastic smack. She gave a small moan, and he stole her mouth in a passionate kiss.

After a few moments, he carefully ventured down the hall in the direction Sylvia had indicated, eager to get her to the bed. He passed several closed doors, when Sylvia reached out and patted one of them, which he supposed meant it was their destination. Shifting her weight, he opened the door and treaded through the threshold. He walked to the back of the room to the massive bed, which had an absurd number of pillows at its head. He knelt on the bed and walked a few feet forward on his knees before laying Sylvia down gently in the middle.

She looked up at Frederick, running her hands all over his arms and chest, a sweet, sexy little smile on her face. Keen to keep things moving, he pushed her thighs apart and settled his lower half between them. Resting his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down and planted wet kisses on her neck. He started in the sensitive crook where her neck met her shoulder, then made his way up to the underside of her jaw. When he reached his target, she gave a little squeal that seemed far too girlish to have come out of her mouth. Frederick drew back to glance at her face, as if to confirm she was still the same woman he’d been kissing.

Her cheeks were pink, though he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or excitement. She covered her mouth, eyes seeming just as surprised as he was that she was capable of making such an innocent, pure noise. Her eyes squeezed shut and she took her hand off of her mouth.

“I have no idea where that came from.” Sylvia admitted, feeling extremely embarrassed. She was supposed to be acting as a sexy seductress, yet here she was, squealing like an innocent schoolgirl from something as simple as a kiss.

What the hell is wrong with you? She asked herself. You need to get it together! Now!

“That’s alright.” Frederick reassured her. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lord knows he had done far more embarrassing things than that in bed. Despite Frederick’s kind reassurances, Sylvia was too mortified to open her eyes. She started to wonder how she could escape the situation with her dignity still intact, when she felt Frederick’s weight shift above her. He was no longer on top of her, but his weight was toward the end of the bed, so she knew he hadn’t left. Before she could decide on her next move, his weight shifted again and she felt his hands on the inside of her thighs, pushing them further apart.

She opened her eyes, curious as to his plans. His head bowed and she felt the heat of his breath on her center. The sensation moved in a wave up her body, and suddenly, everything felt hot. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a while, and she found she no longer had the desire to get up and leave.

Don’t stop. She thought, surprising herself with the reaction. Frederick stopped and looked up at her.

“Keep going?” He asked. She nodded, looking down to meet his eyes. He gave a tiny smile before turning back to his task. Sylvia moaned as she felt his mouth on her, taking the place of his breath. The doctor proved to be very good with his mouth, though she shouldn’t have been surprised by that. His tongue moved slowly, methodically. He was teasing her—and it was working, she thought as her heartrate quickened. She wondered, offhand, when the last time was that a man had genuinely made her come, and couldn’t remember. But this unfortunate fact was soon forgotten as he found that just-right spot, sucking hard.

Oh, god. Don’t stop. Sylvia’s head tossed to the side and her eyes closed. She felt the pressure build, and knew what was coming next. To her surprise, he did not stop, and she felt the pleasure spill over her.

“Yes.” She panted, and Frederick pulled her hips up, improving the angle to intensify the feeling. “Oh, god yes. Shit.” A string of alternating profanities and moans spilled from her lips until Frederick finally relented, releasing her hips to the bed, and sitting back on his heels. She wasn’t sure what he did in the moments after that, because her eyes remained shut as she tried to steady her breathing. After a minute or so, she felt Frederick’s weight settle in next to her on the bed.

“Shit.” She chuckled, remembering rather sheepishly how fully she had let her guard down in the throes of her orgasm.

“That bad, huh?” Frederick jibed. Sylvia opened her eyes, but couldn’t bring herself to face him.

“Not bad at all.” She said quietly as she stared up at the ceiling. A moment of silence hung over the two, filled only by the sound of their accelerated breathing. “You know,” she continued, finally daring to turn her head toward Frederick. “It’s been a depressingly long time since a guy has managed to do that.”

“To make you orgasm?”

“Yeah. Without my assistance, that is.”

“Really?” Frederick asked incredulously. Sylvia nodded. “Well, if I were your boyfriend, or love interest, or whatever you want to call it—I’d make it my goal to make you orgasm all the time.” Sylvia laughed and shook her head, swatting Frederick’s chest as if he’d said something completely ridiculous.

“It’s pretty difficult to make me come. I don’t know if you could handle that challenge.” Frederick turned onto his side, propping himself up onto one elbow. His free hand, he trailed down the center of her chest, down to her stomach, finally resting it on her hip.

“I don’t know. Didn’t seem like it took me too long to figure it out.” He said, a smug grin spreading across his face. Sylvia scoffed in response.

“You got lucky.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” Frederick replied. “How about I keep going, and we’ll find out for sure?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back.” She replied mysteriously.

“So if I don’t satisfy you, you’ll kill me?” He snickered.  

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. How about you come over here and fuck me, and we’ll find out for sure?” She smirked, throwing his words back at him.

“Not sure whether I should be turned on, or afraid. My brain is in favor of terrified, but…” His eyes glanced downward at himself, and Sylvia followed them to find that he was once again erect. Without thinking, she reached out and took his erection in her hand, beginning to slowly tease him. She had to admit, she was certainly curious whether he could repeat his success from earlier.

“How about this. If you manage to make me come, I solemnly swear that I will not murder you in your sleep.”

“And if I’m unsuccessful?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. She pretended to mull it over for a moment.

“I guess I could spare your life, as long as I still enjoyed myself.” Half a beat of silence ensued before she added mockingly, “But you shouldn’t have any problem making me come, right?” Without saying a word, Frederick removed Sylvia’s hands from him and positioned himself on top of her. One hand skirted from her hip, then down to her folds, parting them before he slid one finger inside. Sylvia took in a sharp breath and Frederick’s confidence grew, knowing he’d managed to silence the cocky seductress, if only for a moment.

He crooked his finger in the way he’d learned was best over the years, as he slid it in deeper. He knew he was on the right track as Sylvia gave a small moan. It was quiet, but quick. Impatient. Her hands grabbed at his back and she looked up at him expectantly.

“It’s not nice to tease.” She said breathily, as he slowly began to circle her clit with his thumb.

“What is it they say about nice guys?” Frederick asked, pretending not to remember. “Oh, yeah.” He mused, sliding in another finger. Sylvia gasped and gave a short, urgent moan. “They finish last, right?” The doctor gave a devilish grin as he continued to tease her.

“Fuck. Frederick.” Her voice was thick with lust, and he detected a hint of…desperation? No, it couldn’t be. But as he continued, her noises became steadily louder and more frequent. Short. Sharp. Could it really be true that this beautiful woman was coming undone beneath him? Her eyes were closed and her nails dug into his back. He welcomed the stinging sensation, as it confirmed this was, indeed, reality.

“Feel good?” He asked, watching her reaction closely. She opened her eyes briefly and met his, nodding. Her voice caught inside her throat as she looked up at him. Who would have thought a man such as this could evoke such a reaction from her? She felt his pace quicken, and he pushed deeper within her than before. A breathy whimper spilled from her lips before she could stop it.

Why should I stop it? The thought flashed through her mind. You should never let your guard down immediately followed it. Then, Frederick resumed his torturous teasing of her clitoris, and rational thought abandoned her again.

“Oh god.” She breathed. Frederick gave a low chuckle in response. He stilled his fingers inside her and found that magical spot. In response, Sylvia made an utterly animal noise Frederick couldn’t quite explain, but very much enjoyed. He felt her tighten around him, and continued to move his fingers gently, slowly. Her whole body tensed, and she inhaled a sharp breath. Then he stopped. Her eyes opened, and she released the breath in a huff.

“Why did you stop, I almost—” She caught herself mid-sentence and, embarrassed, cleared her throat, refusing to finish the thought. The amused grin never left Frederick’s face as he watched her emotions go on a roller coaster. Her cheeks flushed, brows furrowed in frustration, she was a sight to behold. Remembering the way her body responded to him made his confidence soar--the sounds she made, the way she squirmed underneath him. He was so hard it was nearly painful.  He needed her badly. But he wanted to hear her wanting him some more.

Frederick planted a soft kiss on her lips. Sylvia returned it, then another. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss. No objection came from beneath him, so he set back to his devices. He resumed the same motions which had brought Sylvia’s impatient, demanding responses, now knowing exactly what to do.

Sylvia moaned, but the sound was muffled by Frederick’s kisses. His fingers once again teased at her g-spot and she felt her orgasm building with renewed intensity. She realized how disappointed she’d been when he stopped just short, and was embarrassed with herself.  

This time I won’t lose control. She assured herself, drawing back from his kiss. She soon realized this may have been a mistake, as Frederick’s mouth began to roam, kissing and sucking at tender spots on her body. Her neck. Her jawline. He found the same spot that had made her squeal, and sucked hard. It took everything within her to remain quiet, but she felt the pleasure just the same. He tried again, obviously hoping to replicate her earlier response, but she remained stubbornly silent. Her victory was short-lived, however, as he promptly turned his attention elsewhere.

He peppered kisses on her clavicle and décolletage before taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking. This time, her jagged moan fell unbidden from her lips. He hummed brusquely, apparently appreciating the response, then took her other nipple, sucking harder. Sylvia felt the pressure building again, more insistently than before. It was as if the desire refused to be ignored. Nonetheless, she tried her hardest to maintain her composure. She let out a soft noise, more controlled than the one before, and Frederick moved on. It was clear to her that his goal was to unravel her, and she was determined to fight it. Exactly why, she wasn’t sure. In fact, if she’d been able to orgasm on other missions, they’d have been a lot more bearable.

As he kissed his way down the soft skin of her stomach, she realized why. She hated his ability to make her lose control. She’d always been in control, in every relationship—whether the interaction came from romantic interest, or a useful means of facilitating a mission. She always exerted her control over men, concealing her true emotions, effortlessly remaining in the position of power. By letting go of her untouchable façade, she was showing Frederick who she truly was inside. She was showing him the layers beneath the Mankiller—the real Sylvia. And she didn’t like it.

As she felt the heat of his breath move down, she was roused from her thoughts. She looked down at him, watching his movements with interest. He’d changed his tactics, as he’d failed to make her react the same way as last time. His fingers slid in and out again now, creating an ebb and flow of pleasure. She attempted to steady her breath as she watched him work, but those efforts were soon sabotaged.

Frederick bowed his head and licked a stripe up and down her center, drawing a lurid moan. As soon as he had put his mouth on her, he took it away, replacing it with the soft pad of his thumb. His touch was gentle and slow, and it was driving her insane.

Let me come, already! Her thoughts demanded. And just like that, his mouth was on her again. Sylvia sighed with pleasure as Frederick stilled his fingers, focusing instead on devouring her. Her hands clutched at the covers underneath her. Though she tried to stifle them, soft moans rose from within her and managed to escape. Once he could tell her excitement was mounting, he continued to finger her. Her hips bucked of their own volition, and she could tell she was losing her control of the situation once more. She couldn’t convince herself to care, however, as Frederick sucked at her clitoris, making a delightfully sinful slurping noise.

“Shit.” Sylvia panted. Her curse was Frederick’s sign that she was close; he persisted a few moments longer, until he felt her tighten around him again. Once again, he stopped short. He took away his mouth and withdrew his fingers. In her disappointment, Sylvia let out a guttural groan. Frederick chuckled at the noise, clearly amused, and sat back on his haunches, stretching out his legs.

Sylvia sat up as well, looking at him, eyes dark with lust. She slid forward and rested a hand on either side of his face in a display of tenderness which caught him off guard. After a brief moment, she thought of a better place to put her hands and quickly slid them down his body. She started to stroke him, watching his face for his reaction. Now, it was his turn to moan. It was a jagged, primal moan, as if he were just as excited as she was, and it made her smile.

She let go of him and slid forward onto his lap. He leaned back, supporting himself with his hands, which were spread out behind him. In this position, she straddled him. His cock was teasingly close to her entrance, and he found the thought highly distracting. She shifted forward, planting sloppy kisses in a trail down his neck, and he smiled. Abruptly, she shoved him down onto the bed.

“Mmm.” Frederick hummed in appreciation of his view from underneath her. She lowered and took his mouth with a passionate kiss, which he gladly returned. Her own taste was still fresh on his tongue, and she remembered how he’d collected it. Heat rushed between her legs once more, and her desire heightened. Frederick reached his hands up to cup Sylvia’s breasts and gently pinched her nipples, causing her to moan loudly. She was so excited by now that every touch set her body on fire.

“Ooh…oh.” She panted, as his hands danced down her lower back, resting on her ass.

“Spank me.” She demanded, catching both Frederick and herself by surprise. Frederick did not hesitate, however, to give Sylvia exactly what she demanded. A split second later, he gave her a rough smack on the ass and she cried out in pleasure. “Again.” She commanded, and again, Frederick obliged. She moaned, and without prompting, Frederick gave her another swat. As she gave her breathy approval, he slipped a hand between her legs and teased his fingers between her folds.

“Oh, god yes.” She breathed, as he stimulated her again. As sensitive as she was, it was practically unbearable.

“God, please, Frederick. Please fuck me.” She pleaded. She didn’t care anymore about who was in control. She didn’t care how desperate she sounded as she begged. Her mission had long gone from her mind. The only things that existed in this moment were her, Frederick, and her agonizing need for him.

Frederick motioned for Sylvia to lay back on the bed, and she eagerly obeyed. He got up, half-standing on his knees, then grabbed her by the thighs, pulling her toward him. She squealed with delight, finding it undeniably sexy that he was taking charge. The instant that Sylvia pleaded with Frederick, his ego went through the roof. To see such an unbelievably gorgeous woman begging him to have sex with her was something he’d dreamed about, but never thought he’d actually experience. He rested her legs on his shoulders and aligned himself with her. As he teased at her entrance with his tip, she felt her anticipation grow.

As much as Frederick wanted her, he wasn’t ready to be done hearing her beg. He knew that once he was inside her, there was no chance he would withdraw until they were both satiated. So, he stopped. Instead, he brushed his tip up and down her folds, drawing a whine of need.

“Please, Frederick.” She whimpered.

“Please what?” He prompted, continuing to tantalize her with the thing she wanted most. He felt like Satan himself for the way he was torturing her, but it felt so damn good to hear the need in her voice. To see it in her eyes.

“Frederick, please. Please fuck me. Make me come.” She pleaded. Frederick let out a low growl before returning to her entrance and plunging himself inside of her.

“Oh, fuck. Yes. Finally.” Sylvia moaned in celebration, practically crying with delight after so much teasing.

“You feel so good.” Frederick moaned back, relaxing after the initial thrust to allow them both an adjustment period. Sylvia closed her eyes peacefully as she felt herself slowly relax and adjust to his girth.

Frederick couldn’t help but think she looked like an angel lying so serenely beneath him. Of course, he could have been biased due to the fact he was buried to the hilt in her, but the moment seemed divine, all the same. Sylvia apparently needed less time to adjust than he figured, as she suddenly grew impatient.

“Please keep going.” She urged. “I need to come, or I’m going to explode.” Frederick laughed.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to explode.” He replied playfully, before beginning to slowly thrust into her.

“Mmm.” She hummed pleasantly in response, resting her hands on his forearms. His own need grew exponentially now that he was inside of her. Now that she had adjusted to his size, he decided to pick up the pace. His thrusts became quicker, and she expressed her approval with a contented moan. Her eyes fluttered open, as she felt the desire to look at the man pleasing her.

“Is this what you wanted?” Frederick asked, watching Sylvia’s expressions change with his rhythms. She nodded, giving an ‘mm-hmm’ that was punctuated by two particularly forceful thrusts.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” He said, with a cocky smile. He slowed down his pace, but pounded into her deeply with each thrust. “I said, is this—” thrust “what—” thrust “you wanted?”

“Yes!” Sylvia cried. “Yes!”

“Tell me what you want.” He prompted.

“Make me come.” Sylvia panted. Frederick stopped his thrusts entirely and withdrew himself, eliciting a displeased noise from Sylvia.

“I’m sorry?” Again, he knew he was perhaps teasing a bit too much, but he was enjoying her desire for him.

“Please make me come, Frederick. Please.” She whined, her voice entirely saturated with need. Frederick could no longer hold back his own need for the sake of satisfying his ego. He entered her again, relishing the feeling of her before beginning his thrusting anew. He resumed his slow, deep thrusts from before, and felt the familiar tightening as she contracted around him in pleasure. She looked down and smiled, and he followed her gaze.

“You like watching me fuck you?” He grunted with a thrust, and she nodded.

“Yes.” She answered in a moan. He spread her thighs farther apart to give her a better view.

“Do you like the way I fuck you?”

“Yes.” With each positive answer, he pounded harder into her. The room was filled with their sounds, and it was like a symphony to Frederick’s ears. Each pant and moan from Sylvia was like a song he never wanted to end.

“Fuck.” Sylvia cursed. Frederick knew she must be close now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He gave an amused smirk, as his angel let out curse words like a sailor. He grabbed her by the hips, pulling her into him as he thrust forward.

“Ohgodyes. Frederick. Pleasedon’tstop.” The words jumbled together as they spilled from Sylvia’s lips excitedly.

“What is it, Sylvia?” He teased, but kept his tempo.

“I’mgonnacome. Pleasedon’tstop.”

“I won’t stop.” Frederick promised. “Not until you come for me.”

He kept his promise, continuing a few more thrusts until Sylvia came undone.

“Yes. Yes. Fuck. Frederick, yes.” She moaned over and over, completely awash in ecstasy. The sound of Sylvia’s orgasm was Frederick’s undoing. He didn’t last much longer than she did, thrusting languidly as he spilled into her with an animalistic groan. After a minute or two of trying to steady his breathing, Frederick pulled out of Sylvia, drawing moans of sensitivity from the both of them. He laid down beside her, pulling her into him with an exhausted, but pleased, sigh. She did not try to fight or argue with him, and allowed herself to become the little spoon. They lay together like this for several minutes in contended silence before Frederick finally spoke up.

“See? I knew it couldn’t be that hard to make you come.” He teased. Sylvia lazily reached back to slap whatever part of him she could reach, before drifting off to a deep, satisfied sleep.

[rileythefool]

The Button

You can change your appearance however you would like, at any time, as much as you want. However, if someone compliments your appearance you will be stuck that way forever.

I looked from the blue button to my friend’s eager expression with unveiled scepticism.

“I’m serious Jacob! It’s the real deal, I promise!” Brooklyn held the button out to me again, practically forcing it into my hands. 

It looked like the stupid “easy button” from the old 90’s ads, and old enough to be from then as well. 

“It says something different for everyone, you can twist the top to get a new choice but I don’t know how many times you are allowed to pass before it stops working." 

I could hardly understand her as she blathered on but I took the plastic button from her anyways, being careful not to press it as I turned it over.

"What does it say?” She practically held my own hands up to my face to get me to read it to her.

“Can’t you read it?” I looked over the plain white text, still half expecting some soul-less business slogan rather than something a genie might say.

She was practically bouncing in place as she seemed to expect me to mirror her enthusiasm.

“I can’t! It’s different for everyone! Tell me tell me tell me!”

I read it again, paraphrasing as I went. “It says if I press it I can shapeshift but if someone compliments me i’ll be stuck forever.”

“Thats awesome!" 

I grimaced, displeased that she could somehow be more hyper and over-enthusiastic. 

"Usually the downside is far worse– like, people die worse.”

I suddenly felt worried about what that implied about when she pressed it. “What was yours then?" 

Her smile faltered as she opened her mouth to reply. "If I tell you it goes away.” She seemed to realize how flakey her explanation was because she began to plead with me as I handed the button back.

“Come oooonnnn. You’ve got nothing to lose! It will be awesome, I promise.”

“If it will get you off my back…" 

I immediately felt guilty for being so curmudgeonly but she didn’t seem to care. She squealing in delight as I pressed the button. 

Nothing happened.

"Happy?”

Brooklyn nodded, still bouncing in excitement as she let me give her the button back, surprisingly it was blank now but that hardly seemed like an effect impressive enough to prove the button was real.

I shook my hands out and steadied my breathing to see if there was anything to notice.

But again, nothing happened. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” I shrugged, surprised to find I hoped to feel something as well. 

“Try wishing something was different about your appearance. Out loud.”

I rolled my eyes. “I wish I had red hair.”

Brooklyn’s eyes went the size of saucers and I couldn’t help but doubt her theatrics as she scrambled to pull her phone out. In no time she had taken a picture and handed it to me. 

Red hair…

A spark of excitement grew in me but I pushed it down, hastily checking my reflection with my own phone just in case she had used a filter.

Red. Fucking. Hair.

“Holy shit." 

Brooklyn nodded. Her lips clamped tight and she slapped a hand over her mouth too as she looked at me in awe.

"Okay, okay, wow. Uh…” I started to feel a bit lightheaded as my mind raced with possibilities. I could look however I wanted.

“I wish I had perfect skin." 

Brooklyn looked ridiculous as she did a little happy dance in front of me.

"I wish I had dark brown hair again, curly brown hair”

I eyed my reflection, feeling increasingly vain as my hair poofed up a bit in dark curls.

“I wish I was five foot four.”

I felt dizzy for a moment as I shrunk, now looking up to Brooklyn as she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Fantastic." 

I paced as I thought further about what I could try. I felt a few changes begin to happen automatically, but as I expanded my possibilities I paused. I looked at Brooklyn, still watching me in awe as I experimented.

"Not a peep.” I tried to sound serious, scared of how she would react to my next idea. 

She mimed twisting a lock and throwing away the key and nodded, curiosity plain on her expression as she waited.

I didn’t have the heart to say it but I could tell I was thinking it loud enough as the most drastic change began. I felt a stretching sensation on the soles of my feet as they shrank in my shoes, followed by the rustling of my jeans as my legs turned smooth and redistributed fat. the feeling of my jeans changed the most, growing tighter around the pockets and thighs as the belt loosened the slightest bit again. Already loose from my height loss, they now fit horribly on me. My chest swelled slightly, noticeably filling out as my shoulders narrowed. The sleeves of my hoodie fell over my fingertips but beyond that I felt the soft lining on my skin rather than just brushing the hair on my arms like it had before. I looked at my hands as the bones shrunk slightly, looking subtly more delicate as the remaining hair vanished and my joints shrank. Finally I felt my hair fall in waves near my shoulder as my jaw ached momentarily. 

I ignored the muffled high pitched squeals of shock from Brooklyn as I looked at my reflection on my phone. I pushed down my confused feelings as I took it in. I liked it. A lot. Probably as much as I thought I would.

I felt like a red flashing light was going off in my head as I looked at myself. I wasn’t supposed to like this. Was I? Boys don’t wish they were girls but wouldn’t any straight guy be attracted to their own gender-bent appearance? This feeling wasn’t attraction but that difference hardly mattered. I had a superpower that other guys didn’t have so I dismissed the distinction as meaningless. 

I resisted the urge to ask Brooklyn what she thought, I could already tell she was repeating “What the fuck” over and over in her head.

“Cool right?”

Her eyes were still wide as she nodded.

I took a few more pictures before putting my phone away and focusing on changing back. I grew back a couple inches slowly which helped my jeans fit again but besides that, not much changed. I tried focusing on my hair. But even after a few tries the style was always pretty much the same butch femme look. I tried to make my boobs go away but they only shrank to be hideable. My hips and butt would only shrink so much as well. Brooklyn’s confusion mirrored mine as I continued to tweak my appearance, some things that I changed just flat out wouldn’t stick. I grew a thin beard but the moment I lost focus it disappeared to perfectly smooth skin. My breasts grew back to a small but modest size while I wasn’t paying attention and my height seemed to shrink back toward 5’ as I became increasingly flustered.

“What’s wrong, Jacob?” Brooklyn spoke slowly and carefully, graciously screening for anything that could be perceived as a compliment as I paced.

“I don’t know! the button said I could change however I wanted but I can’t seem to change back!”

My voice lifted as I spoke, becoming slightly shrill as it rose to a more feminine register. I growled in frustration, blushing as it came out stereotypically femme. 

“Do you want to go back to looking like a guy?” Her voice came out as a suspicious whisper.

“Of course I do!” My voice deepened for an instant before rising again, prompting another frustrated groan. 

I felt more scared than anything as I looked at how my appearance had progressed. Every proportion, every detail looked utterly agreeable, not like some photoshopped model but just like a real girl. A girl so completely different from my former appearance that I could never claim to be more than my own sister. I scarcely could pretend I was my own fraternal twin.

 "Are you sure?“ Brooklyn spoke even softer as tears blurred my vision.

"Of course I’m sure! I was just curious is all! I’m supposed to be able to look however I want! Why can’t I change back?”

“You only get to look how you want though…” Brooklyn’s calm demeanor was off-putting in contrast to her earlier hysterics.

I cowered a bit as she held my shoulders. Her eyes seemed to pierce me to my core. 

“I…” I stammered. A dark part of me wanted to lash out, to blame her for showing me this button and throwing me into this predicament, but the truth stunned me silent. “I might want to be a girl but I have to be a boy, I need to be a boy…”

She made gentle shushing noises as she brought me into a hug. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“But what if there is nothing to figure out? What if I can’t bring myself to want anything but this?” I hid my face in her jacket, it felt weird to be so outwardly distraught, sure I’d had breakdowns before but they felt more like I was coiling up and packing things down. Falling apart like this felt like a dam breaking and I was wildly unprepared to cope with it.

“It will be okay…” Brooklyn trailed off and It occured to me that she was still screening her words to help me. I felt a warm appreciation but I found myself latching back on to my panic and shame automatically. 

I followed that fear to its source, behind the weak concerns about adjusting to a new body I found the real terror. I would be known. I had spent my whole life tailoring my presentation for other people and now in a few short minutes I had thrown that all away. People wouldn’t see what I wanted them to see. They would see me.

I felt the leather of Brooklyn’s jacket bunch up in my hands as I held her tighter and I nearly choked as she hugged me closer in response. I felt grounded by it. It was only one example but I still had a friend, my best friend, who still loved me. 

I felt a bit of the whimsical excitement from before return as I stepped back. There was a pinch on my ear as a piercing appeared and I felt a settling sensation as I returned to the presentation I wanted for me. 

I couldn’t help but smile as Brooklyn wiped away my tears. I could see sincere concern in her expression. The same deep and loving care I had always known. 

Butterflies tumbled in my stomach as I made up my mind. The finality of the decision brought me a perverse comfort as I arrived at something to be sure of.

“How do I look?” I managed a smile, amused at her silent face journey from panic to understanding and a sort of pride beaming down at me.

“You’re beautiful.”

[lachalaine]

@secrecykept submitted: in answer to this.

He’d noticed it the moment she’d emerged to make her way to the stage. With the way it glinted and caught the lights, it was hard to miss. And, as he’d guessed it would, the hair comb looked stunning on her. The beautiful piece however, paled in comparison to the smile the singer wore with it. She seemed to glow, and it had nothing to do with the lighting, he was sure.

He kept his distance from the stage and her view, despite how he would have quite liked to be closer to further admire her new look. While normally good at controlling himself and his reactions, he had the feeling he would betray himself if he got too close to the woman. The temptation to let her know he was the one that had sent the gift was fuelled by his pride and great curiosity. How would she react to the knowledge? Would she still be as happy as she appeared to be, or would it put a damper on her?

Well, it wasn’t worth the risk. With her in the dark, he was the winner.

And so…he was careful over the next few weeks. Careful to contain the pleased and knowing expression that wanted to form each time she was wearing the comb and was so close to him. She was calling herself his, said his instincts, by accepting the gift, she accepted him. 

But that wasn’t really the case, he had to remind himself. She had no idea who it was from, and…technically she was already someone else’s, she was ‘taken.’

But oh, the way the accessory held back her glorious hair gave him the urge to tug the silver adornment free. To see the mass of violet hues crash softly against her shoulders and chest. To let his fingers brush against and gently tunnel through those locks and hold her still, with her head tilted to expose her neck so that he might step closer to give her something more permanent than a hair comb to say that she was his…

He couldn’t do that of course. Could not give into such temptation.

So, with all this restraint and distance, he did need one small outlet…

Jackie would find a letter in her dressing room, in the very spot the box had been in weeks ago. Just like the card that had accompanied the box, this letter’s envelope had  her name written upon it in the exact same, flourishing print.

Inside, the contents flowed in inked elegance.

Miss Dulcet,

I just wanted to thank you for wearing it, you make it even more beautiful. You have me wondering lately if perhaps you’re actually a goddess. You’re radiant, talented, strong, and ethereally exquisite, I hope you know that.

I’m already looking forward to your next performance, and seeing how you choose to wear your hair next time.

Once again, thank you. Seeing you with it means more than you know.

Take care, and have a good night.

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

Secrets.

Jackie knew ( and had her fair share ) of far too many --- secrets.

Secrets entrusted, overheard, those so severe that one would kill to keep them quiet.

Jackie knew secrets, yes. Dealt with, traded, even used towards her own means --- but oh, no… that wasn’t quite right, was it?

Towards his means, actually. Always, always, always ever – towards his, only.

And so did you know what it was like, these past few years, to be so overly draped in the weight of them? To have them adorned around neck, hands and legs? A restriction made as she was to keep a conscious comprehension of the effect of them on her life, constantly taking their weight into consideration before she was to do anything; that at a certain point, what was once meant to feel almost scandalous comes to perhaps be what feels the most --- normal.

She knew secrets. She knew about all of them, no matter the inconsequential nor the grave. But oh, my dears – this one – this one right here felt like a real secret.

Silver crafted hairpiece so fitted within the locks of crowning glory; a perfect adornment by far, so radiant and resplendent, exquisite and picturesque. What a vision it made her, when she’d swept through the club with it perched so flawlessly within the vibrant waves of amethyst hued hair. It’d certainly lent to her a certain serenity, one could say – an exceptional grace so striking in its supernal display, and yet so fluid in its doubtless elegance.

It’s a different look on her, and yet one that fits no matter the hairstyle she manages with it. It brings out a creative touch from her, a most feminine glee; and she’d liked it very, very much.

One would ask then, if it was in fact something that was so doubtlessly wonderful – why would anyone bother to consider it a secret then?

Perhaps --- for a reason. Perhaps just because.

Perhaps because he didn’t know.

And what he didn’t know, in many cases, would suit her greatly. Yet in many cases, she didn’t have such a privilege. She was his most loyal companion, no matter their apparent differences. The one that acquiesced to his rules and his requests and his most terrible, terrible needs ---

She was not the type to go against him. She was the type that shut down so she didn’t have to.

Yet despite all that she’d do for him, she knew that if he was ever to even catch a mere glimpse of it – to ascertain something of such value, so obviously precious and unique and to have even a hint of where it’d come from – she knew.

She would never see it again.

( and she was just meant to be okay with that )

She wasn’t. But she was supposed to be. And she was supposed to be whatever he wanted her to be.

So why was it then, she’d just had to ask herself as she sat alone perched upon rooftop ledge late that very evening, staring out into smoggy darkness whilst lithe digits traced the curve of precious metal once more – that she was taking every simple attempt possible to wear it?

Why was she so thoroughly intent on even showing it off in his absence, knowing that if word were to get to Garry, she would have no chance at a possible defense?

It couldn’t possibly have been because she wanted to get caught. In fact, that was the one thing she was absolutely adamant about, if she were to be adamant about anything!

But it was a good question. A very, very good one; though maybe one that came with no real answer she could provide. 

Perhaps honestly, it was merely just a spark of rebelliousness to a certain degree – a chance for someone that’d been taken so relentlessly under his control to have but a measure of her own desire for something that had nothing to do with him. Perhaps she was just being vain, and wanted to show off; wanted to show that she’d appreciated the gift and would wear it well – well enough that her admirer might be put at ease.

Maybe her reasoning for it is something even more.

Perhaps because it was her own secret – albeit small, albeit harmless, yet only shared with one other. And that feeling of maybe being around their presence somehow, of them seeing her wearing it and seeing how pleased and delighted and happy it’d made her –

Perhaps she did it because she wanted to make them proud, too.

To be worthy enough for their gift, that she could feel independent and beautiful and strong and meant to wear it. And to a certain degree – maybe it was so she could feel just a bit shameless. For that’s what it was, wasn’t it?

To wear another’s gift so brazenly, despite that she knew that they’d come from a place of admiration --- god, to think of how she’d genuinely wanted them to see her practically preen with pride ----

Oh, but the way she’d blushed at that. A bright tint so high up her cheeks that she couldn’t help but squeal! Embarrassed and shy, that even in the relative chill so provided by the course of the evening air, she was almost certain she’d burst into flames!

If he knew – if he knew, even though the gesture was almost nothing, to know she was almost entertaining another like this --- !

Oh, she was in some deep shit, honey.

and she doesn’t even know who she’s preening for.

( yet still, but oh how she had felt it. the way a certain pair of eyes had followed her every movement since that night she’d walked out with hair piled on her head, a certain intensity that’d jumped out at her whenever she wore it, so wildly different and distinct from that of which she was normally used to. a sensation she couldn’t ignore, yet nigh untraceable when she’d dare raise her eyes to search. in those swift moments of which curiosity begs at her is she still granted almost nothing of which she can use to pin down her admirer; a concept that she presumes is for the best, she thinks – even as hands shift back idly towards beautiful clip regardless – a fleeting touch really, yet a gesture somehow just as wistful as the sigh that resounds in her head - before she finds she must turn away )

She was already far too fascinated as it was.

There was no need to dig herself in deeper.

And it’s that thought that stays with her even as she eventually returns to her dressing room; thoroughly lost in the twists and turns of her mind and unsure of where exactly she was expecting them all to lead. A concept so confounding not even she could understand it all –

The door sifts closed, and she sighs. And she ambles to the table and sits in her chair, still thinking, thinking, thinking – a gentle twist of the clip from her hair, as vibrant locks tumble down, bringing her back to the very real reality of her situation – even if the gift remained so in her hand ---- but god.

What was she thinking?

She knew nothing about this stranger, and here she was – unable to get them off her mind.

Maybe it was the intention. To garner her intrigue, to keep the mystery. To keep her curious. Interested. Infatuated, almost. Endlessly wanting to know why they’ve chosen to do this for her, so completely out the blue.

For them to go so far in making sure she’d even had no way of tracking them down --- really, it’s particular. It’s different. It --- stirs her in a way not many other things do.

What kind of game were they playing with her, she would have liked to know.

( maybe she wouldn’t have minded playing back )

But oh, does she think too much. Too much and too little sometimes, one would presume. And yet all she does is talk herself into circles. And it’s with a sigh upon her lips that she recognizes that, raising her gaze towards the mirror in order to settle herself and get home –

Only for sharp eyes to zip back down in a snap!

She doesn’t even stop to think.

So quickly does her hand dart outwards in order to grab the letter, heartbeat a sudden but thunderous pounding within her ears, frame having run so terribly, horribly stiff – you’d think it was a good helping of some seriously crappy bad news.

But no. It was perhaps the farthest thing from it.

Yet she can’t quite bring herself to open it.

And so she stares, and she stares, and she stares. And she has to actively tell herself to fucking breathe.

A sharp breath, a bid for control as she’d stared down at the envelope as though it were due to bite her. A silly thought, though slowly do the trickling’s of awareness begin to creep in – the idea that this stranger had come inside again, even when she was so certain there was no one else to have entrance, the idea that they’d had decided to come back for her for one reason or another – that they would make such an attempt through a means that only they could somehow manage –

She should be scared.

She should be so. So. Terribly. Scared.

---- yet instead is it a most familiar thrill.

One she was starting to liken very much to them.

‘Please.’ She can’t help but plead, even as trembling hands gently ease open the envelope as gently as possible – ‘Please.’

‘Give me a name.’

---- but there is no name.

There is no clue. There is no hint.

Instead are there words – spilling forth from the pages, written in a hand so steady, and with a script so calligraphically smooth; as beautiful and as effortless as the response so read back to her.

For the first time in that moment – does what she read genuinely make her ---- hesitate.

--- a goddess, he’d said.

A goddess. Her.

---- she thinks she might be sick.

And the urge comes upon her so aggressively, and so quickly does she tear herself away from the desk in efforts to get away, sharply enough that her chair falls back with a loud clatter; handwritten note now left to fall back upon her table, a seamless drift upon the open air even as mahogany hues stared intensely downwards – suddenly and irrevocably in absolute pain.

A quivering hand placed against her lips, as the deluge of pain so seemed to swell within her in a way that’d made her very being tremble – so much so that she feared she might scream. For what she’d usually kept so terribly numb was leaking out in cracks; sharp edges aggravating in their severity, broken fragments a mere consequence of her severe heartache.

Eyes remain bright, and yet they shimmer not from glee, nor delight, nor happiness.

Rather, they are tears. An absolute volley of relentless, heartbroken, angry tears.

What was this…? How fucking dare – their fucking lies --- they’d had no right ---- !!

“Dulcet!”

A sharp rap against the locked door, an equally as loud voice that’d snapped at her from behind it.

A distraction that that breaks her out of her stupor, mahogany hues shifting quickly towards the door in fear that they might barge in – yet the handle shudders, and twists, and creaks, and then – nothing more.

Still, the echoing in her skull is relentless. “You okay in there? What’s happening? We heard some noise!”

------ stop.

“I’m fine!” She calls back, words terribly high pitched and yet trying to make herself calm herself down. There was nothing wrong, there was nothing wrong, just stop, stop, stop, stop, stop --- “I’m fine! Just. A spider, that’s all!”

The way her voice pitches makes it so terribly evident that she utters a lie, yet as she would expect – and come to thank – they do not bother to ask questions of it.

It makes things easier for her, she’d swear ---

“Geez, girls --- get changed then, and get home soon. Your boyfriend might be looking for you.”

The words resonate like something profoundly empty in the silence as he finally walks away, and she’s left feeling terribly, utterly out of place.  

She shudders, and she could spit.

Instead --- does she fall.

To her knees, a soundless thump even as she hits the ground hard, an absolutely listless lump so settled upon the hardwood floor.

It’s quiet now. All too quiet. And dark. And empty. And –

Breathe.

Just breathe.

But she’s not sure how.

Carefully, and only after a long moment, does female slowly raise her head – only to look upon the slip of paper still settled upon her desk – for what’d once felt so full of possibilities, yet now so fearful to even touch it. To stain it. To read it again only to so abruptly lose her wits ----

She swallows hard, and she can’t help but want to growl.

Absolutely angry, pissed enough that she might find this stranger and want to yell, punch, tell them they’d had the wrong fucking girl ---- !

Shit.

Shit!

Why? Why was she so affected by it?

The words – they read like nothing to her. The compliments. The flattery. They meant. Nothing. To her.

Or so she would insist, for if they truly meant nothing – then why did her being entire burn like this?

She should have been proud. Pleased. To know that everything she’d hoped to do to show her appreciation would be recognized; enough that they would take pains to actually tell her.

But it’s almost pointless, she thinks. To read something that is so undeniably false.

Radiant. Exquisite. Strong.

A goddess.

---- it was all overkill, wasn’t it? They might’ve just called her beautiful and that would have been enough.

No matter what she would have wanted to think of herself, no matter what she’d would’ve wanted to prove. Her peace of mind was not strong enough to listen to such beautiful things said when her mind offered her at all times the complete opposite of it. Her one and only boon was to be pretty.

She knew that.

And she was okay with that. She was --- comfortable --- with that.

( she was not )

And to be offered the mere concept that she was perhaps, potentially more – even if outside these walls, she was the image of something else – so crafted to be something so absolutely and purposely ethereal, because in the eyes of others, she was meant to be that way –

And yet to so severely hate herself at the idea that she was fooling her admirer in the same way ---

The contrast is disgusting.

“---- to thank you for wearing it, you make it even more beautiful ---“

“You have me wondering –--“

“--- I hope you know that.”

“--- looking forward to your next performance ---“

“Seeing you with it means more than you know.”

It is the first words she hears from this stranger, the first of his words resonating within her head, and even amidst her sorrow – she can’t help but laugh.

Good god.

If only they knew.

How much of a disappointment she would become.