#he presses his head underneath your chin. cat behavior

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Chin/Neck Scratches. That's it, that's the blorbing thought for tonight.

~ The anon who wanted Kaveh but didn't want Baizhu or Ganyu Every time I send an ask, I have to go through my notes to find this exact signature. It's great XD

excellent thought, thank you very much

Foul Legacy LOVES chin scritches, no questions asked. if you hold out your hand, chances are there'll be a moth chin plunked in your palm- it only takes a few minutes too!! you learned this when you were extending out a hand to explain something to Zhongli and suddenly felt like you were holding something heavy. when you turned to look you were met with a blissful Foul Legacy, purring and nudging his head into your hand, your fingers curling around his chin. whatever you were telling Zhongli is quickly forgotten in favor of showering Legacy with affection and scritches, and the ex-Archon simply watches you both in amusement

Foul Legacy has a habit of also craning his head back so you can scratch his neck, to the point of nearly falling over. your hands move from his neck up to the back of his head, behind his horns, listening to his soft rumbles of contentment. his crystalline eye slips shut, occasionally gnawing gently at your fingers, and when he finally leans far enough and flops onto the ground, he takes you with him. an arm drapes over your torso, weighing you down comfortably before he sweeps you into a full-blown hug, nuzzling against your hair with little chirps and trills. he pushes your hand, craning his head back again for you, and you laugh, reaching up to run your nails over his neck again

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[frogtanii]

the warm light from your apartment filters out onto the dark street, a black cat slinking off to hide behind a trash bin. the sight causes a shiver to go down your spine, the heavy feeling of dread weighing down on your back. kei's abrupt change in behavior over text had startled you more than you'd like to admit. you both had been finding solace in each other nearly every night for the past two weeks. you couldn't count how many times you'd felt the tug on your heart to his room late at night, knocking softly and hoping he'd be awake. he usually was, opening the door with a roll of his eyes but you weren't oblivious to the small smile that played on his lips and the light blush that dusted his cheeks as he pulled you into the room and onto his dino decorated covers. the gesture was so soft and sweet and so unlike him that it would send butterflies to your stomach and heat to your face. the nights where you couldn't sleep beside him were filled with tossing and turning, overthinking, and a horrible headache that was nearly impossible to get rid of. kei didn't seem any better off than you, his dark circles a stark contrast against his pale skin the next morning. you'd both chug huge cups of coffee and joke about needing to sleep together more often but there was always a looming feeling that what you were saying wasn't a joke. at least so you hoped.

you shake off these thoughts, their presence only furthering your anxiety at what was awaiting you upstairs. the flight up seems longer than normal and by the time you reach your door, a pool of dread sits heavy in your gut. you fumble with your keys, attempting to get them in the door before swinging it open widely, toeing your shoes off onto the rack, and setting the bag of food from dinner on the kitchen counter. you can hear kei tinkering around somewhere in the apartment and your heart sinks. the containers of food are now cold in your hands as you unwrap one of them and set it in the microwave. the steady hum from the machine does little to soothe your rapidly beating heart, a hand finding its way onto your chest as if squeezing the area will cause the pain to stop.

"hell's the matter with you?" kei's baritone voice startles you out of your thoughts and you jump, heart beating so fast it feels as though it'll leap right out your chest. the microwave beeps and you turn to remove it, setting it in front of your roommate who has made himself comfortable on the counter across from you. he nods his thanks and begins eating, his nonchalant demeanor calming you down very little. you watch him for a moment but the question that has been on your mind since you'd gotten home claws its way out of your throat before you can stop it.

"where's hina?" you ask with false confidence, your eyes tracking his every move for a reaction. kei tenses for a half a second before shrugging, taking another bite out of a potato. "gone." he mumbles, golden eyes finally meeting yours. the apprehension in them doesn't go unnoticed so you continue to press. "how was studying?" you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare down at the marble countertops under your fingertips. a few moments go by without a response so you chance another look at him. his shoulders are slumped and his eyes are boring into his half empty container. if you could see his eyes at that moment, you would be shocked and confused to see tears welling up in the corners beneath his glasses. unfortunately, you don't get to see that uncharacteristic vulnerability being too occupied with waiting for a response, though the response you recieve is not at all what you were expecting.

"yn, what are we doing?" his voice breaks on the last word and your head shoots up to look at him. his glasses are clenched in his left hand, his right gripping the counter underneath him. his eyes refuse to meet yours but when you go to speak, he immediately interrupts. "i mean, we cuddle nearly every night, you tell me you love me, god, and i even say it back!" it's like a dam has been broken and he can't stop talking, tears that were once sitting on his lashline now flooding over his eyes and down his cheeks. with the golden light of the kitchen casting a glow over his tear-stained face, kei looks absolutely breathtaking but somehow you conclude this isn't the best time to tell him that. he keeps talking, his voice now raising in volume and you instinctively start moving towards him. "b-but you just came from a date more expensive than this apartment and i spent time here, alone with a girl that isn't you-" (your heart flutters at that statement) "-and now you're trying to make small talk with me? what are we doing?" at the sound of the question repeated, he finally looks up at you and your breath catches in your throat. he looks utterly broken and you can't keep your hands from going up to caress his cheeks, thumbs moving to wipe away his tears. kei unconciously leans into your touch, the gesture causing tears to well up in your own eyes.

"i like you kei. a lot." your voice comes out barely above a whisper but you can tell he heard you by the way his eyes widen and his head jerking out of your grasp. a pang of pain hits your chest at his rejection but you keep it together, hoping he's just in shock at your words. a moment passes and he continues to stare at you as if he's in awe of your very presence before you. in order to snap him out of whatever daze he's in, you tentatively place a hand on his shoulder and repeat your words again. "i like you." his eyes flutter shut as he lets your words envelop him like a warm hug, almost as if he's trying to memorize how they feel wrapped around him. when his eyes finally open, instead of being met with joy and maybe a hint of desire, his eyes are cold as they stare back at you.

he stands, pushing his way past you and to the door. your face twists up in confusion and you follow close behind him. maybe he's still in shock, you try to reason with yourself but you know deep down that this is a rejection. still, you say the phrase again, "kei, i like you." that proves to be a mistake because he turns towards you quickly with fury and tears behind his glasses. "no you don't." his words slap you in the face and you stumble back, the tears in your eyes finally kissing the cool air of the apartment. you try to speak again but it only takes kei two short strides to reach you and roughly grab your jaw to prevent you from talking.

"you don't like me and you never have. i'm a horrible, disgusting person who you could never truly care about." you go to shake your head no but his grip just tightens. "do you know who i am? do you even know what i've done? if you did, you never would have fallen for me." with that he releases your face and moves towards the door, slipping on a coat and his shoes. his hand is on the door handle when you finally find your voice.

"this had to have meant something to you, right?" of all the things you could've said, you knew this was the wrong one but you just needed to know he felt something, anything at all, that what you two had been through was real. a scoff causes you to look back up, kei's eyes piercing yours though the shine in his eyes tells you he isn't entirely unaffected. he tilts his chin up, looking down on you as though you were nothing, a condescending smirk speading across his face. if you had known him during highschool, you would realize that the look he's wearing is suspiciously close to the one he used to wear back then; cruel, yes, but even worse, he looked apathetic. like you crying was unwarranted and annoying. his mouth opens and you can hardly hear him due to the blood rushing in your ears but his words cause your knees to buckle and you hit the floor with a bang.

"no. it didn't." with that he's gone, taking your breath, your hope, and your happiness with him. you remain frozen on the ground for who knows how long but when you finally find it in yourself to move, you grab your phone and text the first person in your contacts before collapsing.

< omg they were roommates :0

broken

series masterlist

——————————————————————————

an: 😀 sorry 😀 also pls ignore the typos if there are any, i am ✨i l l i t e r a t e✨

taglist: @notamazinglizzy • @waitforitillwritemywayout • @1-800-schmacked • @babyshoyo • @tetsufairy • @deephumandragonperson • @krynnza • @tsukkiboii • @chaichai-the-weeb • @raineedayze • @moonlightreetops • @akirudo • @febvrury • @kamidoesthings • @boba-teaaaa • @lookuptotheskiesandsee • @akaashiissimp • @akvvard • @kittynovaaaa • @tinymouth • @ethylalcoholforfandoms • @smellybananaz • @animeanxiety • @angrylittlezizi • @mariamonteon97 • @rotn-decay • @galagcica • @rachelexe • @soleil-sole • @freyafolkvangr • @pleasemelafook-outta-ere • @hon3y-baby • @itsalyssa15 • @kac-chowsballs • @1987hotschott • @tsumu-core • @mangobeann • @moonlightaangel • @jaayypasta • @blveteaaa • @h0ngh0ngh0ng • @multifandomphenomena • @micmic-21 • @bokutosuwus • @melacholy • @loving-unicorns106 • @vanilla-beanzz • @obsessedwhxre • @hebotoxincheck • @slythxr • @kodzu-ken

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.7)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Seven) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,118 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: This is more fluffy smut. I needed some buffer before the next drama drops!

Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve was gone when you woke up. Probably for the best because you were still a little on edge about the name issue. Stretching, you looked at the clock. He left very early apparently because it was almost 6:00am now. You kicked the covers back and got out of bed.

Picking up your phone, you saw a text from Elisha. She wanted to see you and visit your place.

Texting Steve, you asked, Can I have someone over?

He did not respond for a few moments as you sat there waiting for the three dots to show up to show he was typing. Exhaling disappointed, you decided to go take a shower and tried to enjoy the warm water. When you got out and got dressed, he had still not responded.

A friend. Elisha. Not a john.You sent, hoping to clarify if there was any doubt about your intentions of having someone over.

That seemed to do the trick because he responded almost immediately as you walked towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

Soon. Get settled in first.

Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the counter and went back to grabbing eggs out of the fridge.

<><><>

They had not visited for a couple days and you had enjoyed the solitude to be honest. No schedule, no one else taking up your space. You were standing in your kitchen in a lounge bra and your underwear, eating a bagel you had just toasted.

It was later than normal than you would wake up. The blame could lie at the feet of the fact you had stayed awake to the wee hours of the morning binge watching videos on your phone.

You noticed your phone light up as you took another bite. Chewing, you leaned forward, seeing it was Tony.

Get ready quick. We’re going to go get your cat.

You only sat there for a second before your face broke out into a smile and then you shoved your bagel in your mouth, finishing in a rush. It was short notice, but you were excited about the cat for one but also to get out of the apartment. You had been in here for a damn week.

Rushing to your room, you threw on some casual clothes. You stopped for a moment in front of your mirror and sucked in your bottom lip. Should you have something a little sexier on? You debated for a few seconds before you waved it off; this was to get a cat, not give a lap dance.

Tony arrived not more than thirty minutes later, and you were pacing, ready for him in the living room when he let himself in.

He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you. You asked, “What?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before, that’s all.” He dragged his eyes down and snapped them back up to meet yours. “The fit is nice.”

“Glad to know my outfit is approved. You’re also wearing jeans. Are we going?”

Tony chortled, “Impatient. After you.” He followed you out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Terrence was waiting in the hall and he asked, “Who is driving you today, boss?”

Tony told him, “I’m driving.”

Stalling your stride, you looked at him shocked. “You’re driving?”

“Yes, why do you look shocked? I can drive,” Tony told you, his arm slipping around your waist as he led you to the elevator. “I’m an adult, I have my license. I assure you.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you drive yet.”

“Seems like today is having a lot of firsts already.”

His car was waiting out front, one of his people keeping a watch out on it. They moved away as soon as they spotted him coming out. Tony came over to the car, opening the passenger door for you.

“A two-seater convertible?” you asked. “Really? You think the cat is gonna like that? Or me for that matter? Having to hold the carrier in my lap?”

Tony gestured you in, “Get in, baby. I’ve got someone following us.” He threw his hand up behind the car to the black SUV parked behind. The person who had been standing by the car was sitting in the driver’s seat. “They’ll bring the cat back with them. Enclosed space. I’m not a sadist. I just wanted to have a fun drive with you.”

You refrained from commenting about wasted gas as you did as he asked, him closing the door behind you and coming around the front of the car to get into the driver’s seat, adjusting his jacket.

“It is a nice car,” you admitted, buckling in. “What is it?”

“An Audi,” Tony said pressing the start.

“I saw that. I’m not an idiot, Tony. What model?”

Tony smiled at your scorn. “I know you’re not. A Spyder.”

You frowned, “I’m not sure I’m fond of that name—”

You yelped as he pulled away from the curb, shooting off into the road. Tony laughed amused at your reaction at the sudden movement.

“Oh, love, just wait until we get out onto the highway,” Tony smirked. “I’ll show off this engine for you.”

<><><>

“It’s pretty, but the hair,” you commented as Tony pointed out a Persian cat at the shelter.

Tony eyed the cat closely as you moved on.

“Oh my fucking god!” you said excitedly, coming up to the next cage to a cat already pressing its head against the gate for pets.

Tony came up next to you and said, “So what was that complaint about hair…?”

“Yeah, but this is a Maine Coon! A mix, but still.” You saw he looked confused, and you said firmly. “I want this one.” Tony rose his brows now, giving you a challenging look and you pressed, “They’ve got great personalities! I had one as a kid. They act like dogs but they’re just big ass fluffy cats! And look, it’s a Tuxedo!”

“The hair,” Tony repeated. “My suits. You know, I’m really rethinking this now…”

“You cannot tell me you brought me in here just to not take one home. That would just be cruel.”

Tony smacked his lips and said, “You’re right. Carry on. No white hair though.”

“She doesn’t have white hair. It’s browns and greys,” you pointed out as you continued petting the Maine Coon. “Look at the little marking on her forehead! And she likes me! You can’t leave her here now!”

He stared at you for a few seconds before closing his eyes and exhaling. You held back from bouncing on your heels, knowing you had broke him. You turned back fully to the cage and stuck your fingers back through, her brushing her head against your head in earnest.

“You’re coming home with me,” you told her excitedly.

<><><>

On the way back home, your arm reached across, your fingers tip toeing up Tony’s thigh. The wind was whipping around the two of you as he sped down the highway. You saw that the SUV had lost the two of you a while ago since Tony had kept passing people, weaving into the left lane to jerk back into the right lane around curves. The danger was hot and you wanted more.

Your fingers brushed his crotch and he shot you a quick look, shaking his head. You pouted and he said loudly over the wind, “No.”

“Have you ever had road head?”

“Are you really asking me that?”

You shrugged, “Just thought you would like it!”

“Yeah and if it’s on a drone or helicopter cam somehow – cause if you haven’t noticed, there’s no roof on this car – that I had some woman going down on me on the highway? How am I gonna explain that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually starting to grow a conscience, Tony.”

That drew a grin out of him, shooting you a mischievous look. He cleared his throat and pressed a button, giving a bit more space between his lap and the steering wheel. Second time breaking his resolve today. It did not seem to take much when it came to you.

Unbuckling yourself, you leaned over the middle console working on his zipper. You pulled his cock out of his jeans, running your hand up and down it sensually. He tasted like salt and sweat as you took him into your mouth, trying to help it along quicker. Tony groaned, and you felt him tense. You imagined his hands tightening on the wheel, trying to keep himself focused on the road.

“I gotta pull off,” he grunted.

This did not stop you from working your mouth up and down his dick. The car veered a little, into a highway pull off you concluded.

He pressed a button the steering wheel. He pulled you away from his dick, and blocked access. Or tried to. You moved down, running your tongue across his balls, flicking.

It was too much apparently.

“Give me 15 seconds,” he breathed at you, blocking you again from swallowing him. You kissed his hand, running your tongue up his fingers. His lips twitched despite himself and he cleared his throat roughly. He jerked his hand back, giving you a light, discouraging slap. You moved back then, and he leveled you with a look. Pouting, you laid your chin on his thigh. His hand came to run over your head before straightening up when a voice came over his speaker.

“Boss? Are you alright?”

“No, go on if you pass me. I’m pulled off. I’m fine. Just take the cat back.”

“It’s crying a lot because of the weaving highway.”

“I know it is, I can hear it.” That was not a lie; it’s whines were coming over the phone call. “I’ve got something to finish here though, so just go on. Like I said! I gotta go.”

As soon as he pressed the button on the steering wheel, he tapped your head. “Alright, resume, love.”

<><><>

When you got home, Tony encouraged you ahead; he needed to talk to Daryl really quick. When you got into the apartment, the cat was nowhere to be found. You took off, throwing your bag onto the counter, searching closets. You found her cowering under the bed up against the wall. You tried to coax her out with soft noises and holding your hand out but she just put her ears back, snuggling closer to the wall.

Tony’s footfalls came down the hall and you heard him come into the bedroom.

Pushing yourself up from underneath the bed, you came up onto your knees.

“She’s hiding,” you told him, standing up.

“Maybe try with the treats you bought later,” Tony suggested, his hands in his pockets.

You shrugged, “Maybe. She’ll come out for food when she’s ready. Probably when I’m asleep.”

You walked over to your closet and closed the door to shut off another place for her to go and hide. You wanted to be able to check up on her and limiting the spaces to search would help.

“Well, I have to go do some work today at some point, so, that’s now,” Tony commented and you turned back to him, finding him close. “You can get the letter box and everything set up?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” he said to you, giving you a peck on the cheek before turning away.

Suddenly, it came to you again, the last night with Steve. Maybe Tony knew, although a part of you was screaming at you to let it lie. But, despite your better judgment, you reached out, stopping his movement. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Who’s Cecile?”

Tony looked at you with all shades of suspicious, his mood completely altered by the question. There was a dangerous underlying tone to his question, “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged, letting your hand fall from his arm, suddenly not interested based off his reaction to the question. “Never mind.”

“Why do you ask?” he repeated more forcibly.

Trying to be nonchalant, you said, “Steve called me it when we had sex last. It was just weird. He’s never done it before. It threw me off. That’s all.” Tony ground his teeth, watching you intently, not saying anything. You forced a small smile. “Really, it’s not a big deal. He did not seem to even realize he had done it. I was just curious.”

He obviously did not feel the same. Tightly he said, “I’ll leave you to help the little runt settle in.” He left you then in the bedroom without a second glance.

Something told you that you should not have asked about it and that was not where that conversation was going to end.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

[anastasiaskarsgard]

My whore

Warning: cursing, sex, adult content 18+

I should edit this, but I will later maybe. Just busted this out at lunch for no fun

As she pulled her hood up even more, and briskly walked down the familiar street, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her stomach did a somersault as soon as she she spotted the lone figure standing outside the dimly-lit liquor store. She knew better, she really did. You play with fire, you’re bound to get burnt eventually, but try as she might to practice self preservation, she just hadn’t a care when it came to him. It was a well-known fact that he was someone dangerous and she felt the most scandalous rush whenever she was near him.

She gracefully made her way to his side, briefly knitting her brows together in self-loathing for being unable to just walk on by or ignore him.

"What do you want?" The man moved closer watching her with a cold sneer on his handsome face as he studied her changing expressions. He was absolutely fascinated by how expressive her face was. The way she smirked and you could see the hint of a dimple, or how her eyes narrowed into slits when she tried to control herself from telling him off. How her full lips drew together in a bow when she was determined, or if she felt particularly brazen, she’d cock a single eyebrow and grin like a cat.

Being who he was, his facial expressions ranged from various levels of boredom, to every level of rage. Hatred and apathy was all he’d ever really felt, except when he was around this girl. As the corners of his mouth nearly twitched into a smile, he grabbed her hand, forcing her close to his body, chests touching, thrilling at the stunned look on her face.

"You know what I want princess?” His lips found her ear, fangs nipping at the lobe, hyper aware of her dainty hands clutching his shirt, her breathing growing more erratic by the second, and her icy blue eyes scanning his face, searching for his intent.

"Please Roman....." She pleaded.

His hands brushed over an area she never let anyone else touch, moaning in spite of herself. When his fingers took hold of a swollen nipple and tugged at it viciously, she had to bite her lip, to stop herself from screaming aloud. Her knees shook and she tightened her grip on his shirt, scared if she let go she’d fall. She cursed herself for always turning to silly putty in his hands so easily, but she couldn’t help it. He was intoxicating.

Roman scratched his nails down the taut flesh muffling her sweet mouth with his own. Inhumanly sensitive ears, and Jade green eyes became aware of a few of her friends moving their way, and before she noticed them, (or them her) he dragged her down a nearby alley, walking swiftly with purpose in hopes they hadn’t been discovered.

It was no surprise that her friends weren’t fans of his. He’d beaten up the males of the little posse, after they’d tried to confront him for filming himself fucking their girlfriends and posting it a snippet on his Instagram story when he was high. He hadn’t even remembered he’d done it, until they marched up and shoved a phone in his face, and he could understand why laughing and commenting on one of the girls o face, could be seen as a dick move. The rest of the girls in her circle of friends would drop to their knees and service him if he so much as glanced their way, but he had been far too distracted by the girl he was currently dragging behind him to care.

"Where are we - what are we doing?" The breathless girl inquired, as he continued forward like he knew where this lead. Her eyesight needed time to adjust, so she was still practically blind.

"Why do you sound so scared princess? You came and found me." He came to a small alcove and He pushed her firmly against the wall, hands going to her waist, lips finding their way to her neck.

"I had to twist your arm too." She whispered sarcastically, feeling his hands slip under her shirt rubbing, caressing and fondling her breasts. She bit her swollen bottom lip, silencing the moan which threatened to escape. Her own hands seeking out his skin, desperate for the closeness and intimacy found with skin on skin contact. She shuddered with anticipation as she raked her fingernails down his chest, feeling his muscles jerk under her touch. She moaned wantonly as her shirt was pushed up, exposing her to the night air, before her nipple was engulfed by a warm, wet mouth and she gripped his head pressing him closer to her.

Her sudden intake of air, made him look Out of the corner of his eye to be sure the immediate area was free of any sudden movements. Finding none, Roman smirked allowing his eyes to wander back to the half naked beauty before him. Pushing her skirt up, he pulled her panties to the side, sinking two fingers into her aroused body, driving then in a series of quick, hard movements, mouth covering hers when her sounds rose in pitch. Feeling an almost desperate need to be inside her, he Freed himself from his slacks, pressed up against her body, lifting her legs to straddle his waist and pushed his length deep inside of her core. He couldn’t get over how tight her sheath was every time, even though he had worked her over several times with his impressive manhood. Doesn’t mean he ever went easy on her, if anything it made him pound into her that much harder. He wanted to ruin her for any other man. The thought of someone else inside his princess made him see red.

Just the thought of someone else tasting her had His mouth possessively taking hers, in a wild, untamed passion rendering the girl practically breathless. All she could do was hang on, as he fucked her senseless like a man possessed or a demon. She felt fire course through her veins, igniting suppressed emotions, spiralling her to a pleasurable Eutopia of her own creation. Coherent, logical thoughts were lost and she surrendered her mind to the unlikely possibility that this was all there was. Her and him forever.

Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly fuck her any harder, he grabbed her by the shoulders and fucked up into her savagely, almost bruising as he delved deeper. She didn’t know why his rough animalistic behavior aroused her beyond anything so violent ever should, but it quickly brought her to climax, engulfing her in flames, limbs locking around him as she bit into his shoulder, sending a tingle of ecstasy down her spine, as she felt him spill inside of her, stuttering his hips to a stop. He pressed his forehead to hers and opened his eyes to stare into hers, before closing them and kissing her passionately.

"Roman,” She murmured, as they paused for air, dragging them both back into reality. Finally regaining the strength she had lost in their frenzied sexual escapades, attempted to push her partner away. He hesitantly relented, giving her enough space to stand. Legs trembling slightly, she adjusted her clothes, back bracing against the wall and head still dizzy from his presense. Muscular arms wound around her waist and she stood perfectly still as he pulled her close again, and his breath feathered across her cheek.

"Eager to escape me princess?" He purred, mockery making it's way into his voice and she damned him for so damn attractive. Not that he wasn’t gorgeous to look at, but it went beyond his heart throb, movie star looks or tall statuesque form. He had a Raw, primitive sexuality that cant be described in words, but was painfully obvious, that made him beyond desirable.

"I don’t know why I let you do this to me. I’ve got your cum running down my leg and I'm supposed to meet my friends fifteen minutes ago."

"Don't lie to me." He hissed, turning her to face him, thumb and forefinger capturing her defiant chin increasing the pressure when she tried to look away. "Tell me you enjoyed what we just did."

"I didn't." She bit out defiantly, the fire in her eyes growing stronger, fed by his arrogant attitude. "In fact I hated it."

His amused laughter infuriated her even further, and she had to use every ounce of willpower not to scream in frustration.

"That's what I like about you,” His green eyes gleaming darkly. "Always resisting me. It makes complete and total possession of your body that much more sweet."

"A possession? Is that what I am to you?" She shrieked, striking him in the chest, trying to break free of his embrace. This only made him bring her body closer, pressing his renewed arousal against her in an unmistakable way. Lips skimming her cheek, and throat, hands touching her everywhere as she squirmed in his grasp.

"Does this bother you?" He whispered eyes locking with hers, mouths so close they could feel each others breath.

"Yes." She whispered, willing herself the strength to resist him.

"You sure seemed like you liked it when I fucked you, out in the open, in a dirty alleyway like a fucking whore.” His words pierced her heart like a dagger had been laced with them, and in a burst of strength, she threw him off of her, and she stormed down the alleyway. Certain this was how Roman Godfrey, discarded his toys, she let out a yelp when she was grabbed from behind and spun around. Aggressively seizing her in his hold as she thrashed, he bent and whispered in her ear, “I love how you fight me...” before claiming her mouth with his own. The kiss sent a shiver down her spine, causing her traitorous body to move closer to him, practically begging and pleading for more contact. Her long-fingers raked through his chestnut hair gripping the strands firmly, tugging in a confused attempt to hurt and arouse.

A wanton moan was heard and she found herself pinned against the wall again. Their movements desperate and uncharacteristically sloppy. Emotions running wild, not wanting to acknowledge they were already in over their heads. That this was more than just sex, there were true emotions underneath it all, and it was terrifying. No one in their right mind loved a man like him, and no girl could possibly love him ran through their chaotic thoughts as the alarms went off, but neither heeded the call. Pleasure that could be described as unimaginable pain flowed through them, pushing all their insecurities down and finding them lost in each other once again. Their ragged breathing was the only sounds heard and they kissed sweat drenched faces absentmindedly. His low chuckle garnered her attention and she looked at him curiously.

Feeling his member once again free, and pressing deliciously close to her entrance again, she shifted to make access easier.

"Tell me you enjoy this. Tell me you like us." He smirked, eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability that was gone so quick, she wasn’t sure she saw it.

“Or what? You won’t fuck me again?” She asked cocking her eyebrow, and grinning up at him.

“You love it.”

"What if in fact I hated it?"

"You didn't." He proclaimed confidently.

She wished with all her might that he was wrong, but he was right. She loved their fucked up little arrangement. “I don’t love being called a whore.”

“How about just my whore? Only my whore? Hmmm?” He asked, eyes flashing darkly.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“But I’m your asshole.”

“My asshole.” She giggled.

“My whore.” He growled as he thrust up inside of her.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 25: Human Wonder 125

Summary: Faerie meets TV

Read on AO3

Read chp 25 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list

Human Wonder 125

***

Jamie had thought long and hard about how to approach introducing Claire to television. As much as he thought he’d come to know her, he wasn’t entirely sure how she’d react, seeing as how he would probably be terrified of it in her position. He eventually settled on a nature show— something familiar to her to introduce the idea of moving pictures. 

He had tried his best to explain the concept to her beforehand, but her sweet, honey eyes had simply glazed over. He finally gave up and told her he’d simply have to show her.  

As he settled down on the couch with the remote, Claire beelined (typical) toward his lap. She slid on smoothly, her hand hooking around his neck as she all but fell on top of him. Laughing, he caught her around the waist and back, dipping her a bit as she settled in. 

“Hi,” he said fondly, looking down at her. 

“Hi,” she echoed back in a voice so sweet he would probably need some dental work. 

“Are ye ready, lass?” he asked, pulling her upright on his lap so he could focus on getting the show started. 

“Yes,” she said exuberantly. 

She snuggled down against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, and she grabbed his free arm to wrap it around her middle, not even giving him the chance to do it himself. He obliged, quite willingly, and gave her an affectionate squeeze. 

As he pressed the power button and she watched the TV light up, she snapped her eyes shut and shoved her face forcefully into Jamie’s neck. 

“It’s bright!” she cried. 

Jamie couldn’t help his laugh. He probably would be laughing at her quite a bit during this experience, so he hoped she wouldn’t mind. 

“Aye, it is. Yer eyes will adjust.”

She withdrew hesitantly, a great deal less excited than she had been a moment ago. Jamie clicked on Netflix as Claire looked back toward the screen. 

Jamie found himself bemoaning the position she’d chosen on his lap. He couldn’t see her face, so he wouldn’t be able to see her reactions when he actually started a show. Abandoning the remote for a second, he grabbed Claire around the waist with both hands and lifted her out of his lap to deposit her to his side. 

“Hey!” she said indignantly, leveling him with a pout that had his insides twisting in mirth and affection. 

“I want tae watch ye, lass. And as bonny as the back of yer heid is—” he cupped a fond hand over the back of said head, “I think yer face will be more entertaining.” For good measure, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

“Oh,” was all she said. 

She looked at him for a long second, but then, once she decided not to be offended, she cuddled up close to his side. Jamie’s breath caught as he felt her tuck herself underneath his arm. (No matter how many times Claire touched him, he didn’t think he could ever get over it. If she stayed with him until they were old and grey— as he wished to God she would— Jamie thought his stomach would still be sent into knots any time she was even near him). He quickly got with the program and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

Feeling like a stereotypical couple— only the girlfriend was a faerie who had never once laid eyes on a tv— Jamie held the remote out in front of them and started the show. 

It was a David Attenborough nature film, a special on Scotland that Jamie had found. It started with an aerial shot of a loch— probably Ness, he figured. A beautiful shot that highlighted the expanse of the scenery. 

The second it came on screen, Claire stiffened. Her back went ramrod straight, and Jamie’s gaze whipped back to her to find her eyes were as big as watermelons. Her mouth had fallen open, and he could hear her breaths coming in rapid pants as the movie continued, changing to various scenic views. 

Claire’s body let out an involuntary shiver, a huge spasm that went down the length of her body, and Jamie suddenly grew concerned. But just as he was about to ask if he should stop it, Claire suddenly was disappearing from under his arm. 

Jamie closed his mouth and simply watched as she rose from the couch and began to float toward the tv. Because floating truly was the best way to describe it. She was padding on incredibly light feet, hunched slightly with her head pushed forward and cocked to the side like a curious cat. She drew closer and closer to the tv, her hand outstretched. He could hear her excited breaths all the way from the couch, and it took all his willpower to stay silent in the face of her adorable behavior. 

Her hand made contact with the screen, and then she suddenly jumped back as the scene changed and bright light emanated from the tv. 

“It’s flowers,” she breathed, commenting on the picture currently being shown. 

“Aye,” Jamie answered. 

Her hand pressed flat against the screen this time (but Jamie couldn’t have cared less). 

“But they’re not actually in there?’ she questioned, darting a quick glance behind the tv as if to double check, “so how do they show them?” 

“It’s verra difficult to explain, lass,” he chuckled, “maybe jes’ sit back down and watch a little more.”

Claire wasn’t even listening to him at this point. She stepped back a couple feet from the tv but remained smack dab in front of it. He saw her head moving back and forth quickly, trying to take it all in. All of a sudden, she plopped down, folding her legs and staring up at the screen. The image was so much like a child enraptured with Sunday morning cartoons that Jamie had to stifle a smile. 

She stayed like that for a long time, silently growing more and more absorbed in the program. Her back was straight at attention, her hands stuck down in her lap, and her eyes were glued to the screen. 

Jamie found himself getting a bit jealous. It was absurd, but Claire’s newfound obsession with the TV meant that he was left sitting on the couch by himself. He hadn’t had a moment with this much personal space while Claire was in the room for a long time, and he found himself mourning the loss of her. Who knew, maybe she would abandon him completely now that she’d found a love for the screen?

His jealousies were assuaged when Claire tore her eyes away to look back and give him a bright smile. 

“This is magic, Jamie,” she breathed. 

“Aye, it seems like it,” he couldn’t help but agree. 

She spared another glance back at him, and this time her face showed an adorably conflicted expression. He could read that one like a book. She was trying to decide whether to come back to him or stay “with the tv.”

This was a monumental moment. Jamie felt like he should eye the tv with narrowed eyes; he never would have guessed when he bought it that he’d be in competition for his girlfriend’s love with the thing. Putting on the charm, he gave Claire a smile. He had something the tv didn’t— well a few somethings…. but one in particular. And he was going to win. 

“Come sit wi’ me, lass,” he said in a silky smooth voice, “I’ll keep ye warm, aye?” 

Take that, television. 

That was all it took to convince her. She scrambled up, nearly tripping in her haste, and smiled innocently as she all but threw herself onto Jamie. All the air was knocked out of him in an oomph, but he was too high on his feeling of victory to mind too much. He let her pin him down to the couch as her knees came down on either side of his legs. Then, her lips were all over his face. She sprinkled kisses all over him, pressing her lips in a barrage of brushes over the skin of his cheeks and forehead and chin. 

“Woah,” he chuckled, his hands going around her instinctively, smoothing over her waist and up her back. 

He was helpless under her, and completely taken aback by her sudden accosting of him. 

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” Claire said when she had finished covering his face in kisses. 

“Nae,” he lied. 

As soon as the word had left his mouth, she was laughing. “Don’t lie to me, James Fraser. I can feel your jealousy right now.” 

“Damn empathic powers,” he mumbled before he caught her lips in a possessive kiss. 

“Don’t worry,” she breathed against his lips, “nothing will ever compare to you. Not even your magic… what is it called again?”

“Television,” he filled in, already regretting teaching her this. 

“Mmm, television.”

As if that was all the reassurance he was allotted, Claire abruptly slid off his lap and settled in at his side to stare at the tv again. Living up to his promise, Jamie brought an arm around her shoulder and pressed the warmth of his body to her ever-chilled one. 

After another couple of minutes of Claire watching the screen and Jamie watching Claire, her entire face suddenly lit up. Her hand flew to grab Jamie’s arm— her wee fingers gripping with incredible force for someone so small— and she let out a gasp. 

“What is it, lass?”

“That was my loch!” she said, pointing enthusiastically, borderline frantically at the screen, which had already changed to a different view, “it was my loch, Jamie! I know it was!” 

At the mention of her home, Jamie’s heart sunk all the way to the pit of his stomach. He had to swallow down the sudden onslaught of emotion— some odd mix of guilt, unease, and the crazy wish that her past would never be brought up for fear of her thinking she made a mistake staying with him. 

Thankfully, Claire was too enraptured to take stock of his feelings— his feelings that at the particular moment were filled with pettiness.  

“I promise it was! I would know it anywhere! Even inside this ‘television!’” she continued. 

“I’m sure it was,” Jamie agreed through the lump in his throat, “is it no’ amazin’ that ye can see real things while yer sittin’ here on my couch?”

She turned to him with a smile so wide that her mouth parted open. “It’s wonderful!” 

He couldn’t help it. He leaned in and took her lips in a gentle kiss, feeling the need to anchor himself to her. She was here. She’d chosen him. She wasn’t going back just from seeing a simple reminder of home. 

She kissed him back, unable to stop from smiling even as she pressed her lips to his. 

When he pulled back, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Her attention shifted once more to the program. 

As Claire watched the screen, Jamie began to absently trace along her skin. First just making circles on her hand with his thumb, then letting go to trace the backs of his fingers up and down her forearm. Her skin was so exquisitely soft— Jamie thought no sensation could ever compare to touching it. His exploration wandered up further until he was stroking her cheek. 

It took him aback for a second when he realized the role reversal. Here he was, touching her so completely unabashedly, lost in the wonder of the feel of her. Claire must have been rubbing off on him.  

A few minutes later, she turned back to Jamie, this time with a slight frown on her face. 

“It makes my head hurt,” she said. The crease between her eyes was back, and Jamie was swept up at the sight of it. 

“Poor thing,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to each eyelid, which fluttered closed as he drew near, “Too much bright light for ye, I think. Let’s take a break for now, aye?” 

Claire gave a nod (the absence of a pout clearly indicating the growing severity of her headache), and he reached for the remote to power it down. 

“Well,” he said, once they were left without entertainment once more, “what did ye think about yer first television show?” 

“It was wonderful,” Claire sighed, “but I don’t understand it one bit.” 

“Neither do I, lass,” Jamie agreed, “neither do I.” 

***

Sometime later, Claire and Jamie were in the kitchen where Jamie was preparing his dinner while Claire sat at the table, looking on. 

When Jamie glanced over at her— as he couldn’t help but do— he found her sitting with her arms rested on the kitchen table and her hands pressed to her face. 

“Are ye alright, a leannan?” Jamie asked. 

“I don’t feel so well,” Claire admitted from beneath the cover of her hands. 

His insides clenching in worry, Jamie set down the knife where he’d been chopping vegetables and washed his hands before approaching her. 

He stood next to her and cupped a hand over the back of her head. 

She looked up at him then, her head falling back to rest against his hand, and her expression made his concern amp up a couple of notches. Her eyes didn’t hold their usual sparkle, and the lids seemed hooded with fatigue. Her face seemed pale too, even those bonny pink lips holding less color than usual. 

Jamie hummed sympathetically, his eyebrows drawing together. 

“Ye look tired, a leannan,” he commented quietly. 

“I am,” she confirmed. Her hand came up to wrap gently around Jamie’s forearm— not to move it, but simply to connect them through touch. 

Jamie quickly sat down in the chair next to her so he could look her in the eyes. He studied her for another long moment, unsure how to proceed. At this particular moment, there was nothing he could do but hope for the best, since any kind of medication was out of the question. She couldn’t simply pop a tylenol. 

“Let’s get ye to bed, aye? Maybe ye’ll feel better wi’ a wee bit of rest?” he suggested gently. 

“I think so,” she nodded, voice slightly breathless. 

Catching him still looking at her, she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Jamie. I think the TV just gave me a bit of a headache. Like you said, it’ll probably be better in the morning.” 

Jamie felt the slightest bit better at that, the tension in his shoulders easing. If she wasn’t worried, neither was he. Well... that wasn’t entirely true. He always worried when it came to her and always would, but at least he had a hope to rest on. 

Surely it would pass soon. 

He went upstairs with Claire to lay down with her, slotting her wee body against his and holding her close. His attention remained fixed on her long after her breathing slowed into the rhythm of sleep. 

Looking down at her, she seemed peaceful. A hint of a smile spread over her lips, but the rest of her face was smooth and without tension. 

Even seeing her looking so peaceful, he began to feel uneasy about the situation. The more he thought on it, the more he realized she didn’t seem like her usual self. When it came to Claire, he paid attention to every little thing. He noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension in her face, even the downturn to her lips when she thought he wasn’t looking. He’d been making a lot of excuses, coming up with reasons for why she seemed to be feeling unwell. But those reasons were beginning to feel hollow, and he worried there was something bigger going on. 

Or perhaps he was just overthinking. His protective instinct did seem to go into overdrive around Claire. Perhaps she truly did just have a headache, and he was overreacting. Maybe his brain was simply trying to sabotage the happiness he was finding with her.  

Faced with these two possibilities, Jamie recalled what his mother always used to tell him when he complained of being sick. 

“Go to sleep, Jamie. It’ll be better in the morning.” 

Helpless to do anything else, he prayed that his mother’s words would ring true. 

This was all Claire needed— he told himself firmly— a good night sleep. 

***

Tbc

[hualianff]

In Memory

Who We Were – Sophism, Beatrice

Xie Lian wakes up to the same cold sheets, tinged with the floral scent that comes with being washed too often. He lays comfortably on his side, covers tucked underneath his chin. Xie Lian’s legs are sprawled in a small split. They span from his edge of the mattress to the middle section that belongs to no one.

Xie Lian straightens his legs in a stretch. The tips of his toes venture toward the other half of the mattress that has remained unoccupied for quite some time. He tries not to think too hard about how long it has been.

A black blob plops itself onto the juncture of Xie Lian’s neck. He laughs out a small “good morning” as a thin tail tickles his nose.

“Time for breakfast, yes?” Xie Lian asks. He receives a mix between a mewl and purr in response. “Okay, cutie, I’m getting up.”

A louder meow this time.

“Yes, I know you’re hungry.”

Xie Lian manages to sit up with the solid weight of a hungry Korn ja on his chest. She’s been an insistent companion over the years, always there to help Xie Lian maintain a routine that started with getting out of bed at a reasonable time.

Xie Lian doesn’t know her exact age as she was just a stray surviving on scraps before finding a home. He remembers their first meeting very fondly. Her owner held her with a slightly exasperated face as Xie Lian cooed over how beautiful she was.

“She’s adorable! What’s her name?”

“I named her...E’Ming.” A pause. “Because, you know, she didn’t have a name. Or a home. I had to call her something, so I chose E’Ming.” A scratch behind her ears. “Naming her just made me even more attached, as you can see. So I took her in, and now…”

“I think E’Ming is a perfect name.”

They smile together.

Xie Lian casts a glance at the clock to see it is seven in the morning. E’Ming is right on schedule. Xie Lian quickly gets up, remembering he is getting breakfast with a couple of friends at nine. After making the bed, Xie Lian sets his outfit on the duvet to change into later. He finally heads into the kitchen where E’Ming patiently waits by her bowl.

“Thank you for waiting. Such a patient baby,” Xie Lian compliments. As he walks in, E’Ming weaves around his feet, brushing against his calves. Xie Lian squats down to scoop dry food into her bowl. “There you go. Enjoy~”

E’Ming’s tail swishes right into Xie Lian’s face. She turns around in a few circles, refusing to touch her food.

Meorrww!

“I thought you were hungry, hmm? There’s food right here. You want me to pet you while you eat?” Xie Lian asks, confused. He was never the best at determining what E’Ming wanted based on her various behaviors or meows. That title was meant for someone else.

E’Ming continues to speak to Xie Lian, though he doesn’t quite understand what the problem is. She paws at the dry food, leaning down to sniff the bowl for a couple seconds before turning her nose away.

Purrfmmphh.

E’Ming makes another one of her mixed sounds while jumping up onto the counter. Xie Lian’s gaze follows her as she pads over the plugged-in phone, magazines, and mail Xie Lian has yet to organize. When he sees where her destination is, his blood runs cold.

“E’Ming-ah, that’s not yours,” Xie Lian says as if a cat will understand the customs of ownership. E’Ming is content to stay by the larger bowl pushed back by the toaster, no longer in use.

“Ahh, come on, I already put food in your bowl. We can use this one another time, okay?” Xie Lian suggests with a bit of a whine in hopes E’Ming will jump down and eat her breakfast.

E’Ming does not jump down. Instead, she settles down into a crouch on all fours. She ignores Xie Lian’s babytalk in favor of resting her chin on the tip of the large bowl with a different name written on the front. Xie Lian stares at his own penmanship scribed onto the bowl.

With a heavy exhale, Xie Lian retrieves E’Ming’s smaller, red bowl. He steps back to the counter and pours the contents into the large bowl. E’Ming immediately perks up, ears and tails dancing in delight. She offers Xie Lian a grateful headbutt, then leans down to munch on her food. Xie Lian’s heart clenches at the sight.

“You must miss your sister a lot,” he murmurs, stroking her back absentmindedly. “I miss her too.”

After much deliberation, Xie Lian forces himself to look at the massive object taking up space in the room designed for a dining area.

“The both of them.”

It’s been three years since Xie Lian played the piano. The white keys have long since dulled while the black keys continue to collect dust.

Three years since he sat down and pressed the keys, not knowing what melodic journey his fingers would take him on next. Back then, it had the utmost joy to tap away at the piano for hours and hours; an adrenaline rush to chase as the last notes resonated within the open space, a connection to yearn for and anticipate for the next performance.

But now, Xie Lian has no one to listen and relish in the music with him. There are days when Xie Lian can only bear to sit on the bench and stare at the sheet music left on the stand. The phantom touch of a shoulder and a thigh brushed against his own, a foot battling for control of the pedal never fails to bring tears to Xie Lian’s eyes.

It’s been three years since Xie Lian played the piano.

The music he loved so dearly had locked itself inside Xie Lian’s memories along with his beloved. But just like his love for Hua Cheng, Xie Lian’s love for music will never die.

Xie Lian goes to shower, brush his teeth, and get ready for another day. On his way out the door, he passes the piano by.

Xie Lian stares at his beloved for a few more heart-stopping seconds, sat upon the bench, idly playing the piece Xie Lian knows still lingers on the stand.

This was always one of Hua Cheng’s favorites.

《II》

[fandom-collective-writers]

A Taste of Envy (Le Comte de Saint Germain X MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Comte de Saint Germain x MC (Female)

Warning: NSFW and there are spoilers featuring Comte’s real name.

Requested by: Anonymous

Written by: @voltage-vixen​

“Come closer to me,” Comte murmured, encircling his arms around MC’s body. Enclosing her between the muscles that defined the cuts of his thighs, water rippled around them as her body swayed into his. He felt the contractions of her chest as she reconciled into his embrace, eliciting a serene sigh from the vampire. The slight distance between them had become more than his tolerance allowed him to bear, and her touch was the only cure to settle the fray of nerves still rattled from the encounter earlier.  

Previously that evening the couple had attended a ball being hosted by an acquaintance of the pure blood to celebrate the night of Hallow’s Eve. Whilst his partner’s natural charm enchanted the attenders of the party, a green-eyed monster nearly engulfed all sense of the pride endured when one of the guests was acting too familiar after succumbing to a substantial amount of liquor. Undeterred by the stranger’s advances, there was no hesitation in Comte’s actions when he whisked her away back to the safety of his own mansion. Resolved in wanting to cleanse her pureness from the sins that were cast upon MC from the man’s lecherous behavior prior, Comte was pleased when she conceded on with his invitation to join him for a bath to unwind. 

“Your angelic face is flushed, ma cherie,” the husk of Comte’s voice purred into MC’s ear. “Perhaps the bath water too warm for your liking this evening?” The sense of rationality that was embodied into the foundation in the whims of his beliefs, was cloaked by his desires of his envy. The shine of the full moon illuminated through the colossal window in the bathroom, and her beauty went beyond what words were capable of portraying as she basked in the moonlight.

He wanted-no! Not wanted but needed. He needed her. And he needed MC to understand he was the only one worthy vying for her affections. His fingers traveled and roamed the length of her body, delivering tantalizing caresses as he kneaded away at the softness of her delicate skin. She shivered when the back of his hand grazed across the side of her wet neck, to sweep the damp curls of her hair to the side of her flushed neck.

“You know exactly why already, Abel,” she whimpered, as his lips grazed against the bareness of her clammy shoulder. The occurrence was rare when MC referred to the man by his real name, but when the words rolled from the tip of her tongue when his touch left her undone was enough to awaken the carnal craving within him. His cock twitched in greed, evoking a gasp of bewilderment when MC felt him suddenly press against her lower back.

A sensuous moan escaped MC when the distraction of Comte’s protruding fangs pressed against the smoothness of her skin, dragging them closer to the sweet spot on her neck the vampire acquainted as one of the woman’s acclaimed erogenous zones. The tips of his fangs provocatively pointed into MC’s skin, yet not enough to pierce the barrier keeping Comte from ravaging her. His foreplay was delightful, but the sensation of his erection so close to her heat, combined with the vampire’s fangs close to penetration was driving her mad in a lasciviousness fit. Her hips wiggled in impatience hoping that Comte would finally release MC from his tormentous teasing, yet instead he simply chuckled and only carried on in his mission to provoke her further. Overtaken by horniness, MC knew she no longer accommodate Comte in his game of cat and mouse.

“Now,” she mewled, attempting to grind herself against the friction of his thick arousal that was more than ready to take her. “Do more now. Anything more. I need to feel more of you. Please, my love.”

Rather than submit to her indulgences, Comte reached around to the front of her body, until his palms were cupping the mounds of her breasts. Gently squeezing the sensitive flesh, MC’s head arched back when his fingers toyed with the perkiness of her nipples. His massaging sparked joys of bliss, inducing a tickle between the opening of her thighs.

“I admire how independent of a woman you are, ma cherie,” he sensually crooned into her ear. “However, I’m also infatuated with the way you melt when I’m pleasuring you.”

While one of his hands traipsed over to cover her eyes, the other sauntered down deeper into the water. Deeper and deeper until he brushed the swell of her clit. Wanting to push her further beyond the brink of coherency, Comte’s finger glided beyond her velvet folds and plunged into the heat of her slit. The intrusion was wonderous, and MC’s walls instantaneously clenched around him. With her vision currently blinded by the vampire’s hand, her senses were heightened, and she was tightening around him much sooner than she normally did during one of their traditional lovemaking sessions.  

“Please, don’t make me wait any longer,” MC cried out. “You hold my heart, my soul, and my body. Everything I have, I offer to you. There could never be another.”

There they were. There were the words that set Comte free. Oh, how precious this sweet woman was. Little did MC realize that she underestimated how crazy she drove him. Ignoring her objections when he pro tempore freed her from his released, Comte hastily latched his grip on the curves of MC’s waist. He lifted her up by the hips and lowered her down onto the heat of his arousal. MC chewed the bottom of her lip to keep the screams from pouring out while the solid cock of her lover stretched her walls from behind.

“Don’t hold back,” Comte coaxed, knowingly mindful of her attempts to remain quiet. “Let me hear your stunning voice, ma cherie.” While maintaining the rhythm of her bouncing, Comte wasted not a moment’s notice assaulting that special spot on the side of her neck. The slight pain from the insert of his fangs was instantly infused with jolts of pleasure. Her toes curled, and MC’s whines grew louder as her lower belly began to flutter.

She was so close. And Comte was aware. There was no other in the world out there that understood her better than he. Ready to send the woman to heaven, Comte took pause and adjusted himself underneath her. With a powerful snap of his hips, MC screamed out in joy at the welcomed assault. Each thrust became more desperate as he wanted her to remember that only he could instill this blissful feeling upon her. Comte pushed her further and further, resounding in the sounds of her harmonious moans, until at last MC’s body trembled. Uttering a gratifying cry, she collapsed back into the comfort of his toned chest.

“Ah, ma cherie,” Comte groaned, reaching his own climax behind her. He hugged MC closer to him, panting loudly while together they finished coming back down from the high of nirvana they were finding themselves lost in.

“You were lovely as always,” Comte murmured once his breath was regained. She hummed in response, and he nuzzled his chin down to rest on the top of her head. MC joined her hand with his that was encompassed her waist and entwined their fingers.

“Abel?” she softly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence lingering in the air. “Were you…...Were you jealous?”

One of Comte’s worst fears had come to light-MC was bearing witness to one of his weaknesses. A rare shade of crimson stained his cheeks, and he let out an awkward cough before replying.

“I-I suppose my actions were the result of one what may classify as envy,” he murmured, embarrassed she had put the two and two together. His head dropped and Comte tried to turn away in shame, but MC’s elated squeals halted him.

“Abel, you have no idea how happy that makes me,” MC assured, wiping away at a stray tear dripping from her eyelash. “I accept every side of you, but it’s nice to see that even your self-control can waiver at times. You never have to worry about holding yourself back in front of me.”

Turning around to face him, MC clasped the sides of his face. Both leaning in, their lips united, exchanging small and delicate kisses. Small was no longer enough, and their breaths hitched with the escalation of each kiss. Their frantic hands explored each other, refusing to cease until they were tangled up in the locks of the others hair. The water splashing around them had long grew cold, but the heat from their bodies made such a minute detail unnoticeable.

The twinkling moon outside remained high in the sky, continued to shine down on the couple. Lost in their enrapture with each other, Comte and MC forgot about the mansion and the world they lived in. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, spending a countless amount of times reaffirming their love into the late hours of the night.

[insufferablelust]

Pretty little thing (III)

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation, interrogations, Daddy issues, abusive parents, blood, Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader.

This is a dark fic, there might be stuff that could trigger you so please read with caution and/or don’t read it if you are sensitive to the stuff in the warnings.

MASTERLIST.

——————

Broke down the walls of her will, like the haunting willow tree singing as she savor and serve. adrenaline rushing and prickling inside her bloodstream, relishing the way his name rolls off her tongue. glistening with adoration, and graceful lust.

——————

“William Y/L/N, her father.” Next to her’s.

“Garcia—“

“On it!”

~

Y/N’s head was spinning, she hasn’t said anything hasn’t even heard any word that spilled from her lawyer’s mouth. Her mind solely pinned to the man behind the glass which she couldn’t see but she could feel him. His presence warms her up in a way, yet sent an incredibly powerful tingling feeling up her spine, from the beginning he was always going to be her’s— she has waited since cat, patiently waiting for her execution, playing the naive clean up girl for her, but now that her biggest threat, as well as her mentor is burning in hell, she’ll finally make him her’s. She just need to find a way to execute her masterplan.

“You aren’t listening, aren’t you?” The annoyed tone of her lawyer caused her to snap back into her role, sighing softly she let out fake tears slowly— knowing damn well the very man she want is right there.

“I’m sorry. This is all just overwhelming, listen do what you have to do.. all i’m going to say is....”

Spencer watched their interaction from behind the protective glass, his eyes never leaving every single micro expressions she made, every twitch of her lips, he saw everything even if he can’t hear them.

He watched as she cried, tears spilling all over the table her fingers were shaky, and her knees bounced. He could tell that the voice she lets out must be shaky, with hiccups, he scoffed to himself as he observed her. Knowing every single behavior she displayed was a cover up on top of a cover up.

Even after her lawyer stood up, his eyes never left her face, wanting to see everything. Not only that it’s his job— but there’s something about Y/N that almost.. amazes him in some ways, maybe it was because the cat situation but.. the way she built a fortress over her true self, the way she managed to be whoever she wanted to be and perfectly at that. It was like she was an actress, an art.

Then, he was snapped out of his mind when her lawyer close the interrogation door shut, sighing as she looked over at Spencer.

“Are you going to gawk at my client all day, agent? don’t you have a theory to pursue?” Typical, it was to get on his nerves.

“Yes, she’s a highly capable suspect of dozens murders. It’s my job to make sure we get her this time.” Spencer answered calmly, trying not to let any of their plans spilled, he was meticulous that way. Sharp.

“You better find those evidence soon agent, or the court will see to it that Y/N Y/l/N is— was in fact just another victim of Ms.Adams,” Spencer’s lips twitched at the sound of her voice, but moreover at the names she mentioned.

“Oh and My client asked me to tell you that the little brown house is only the beginning of the end, clock is ticking.” His eyebrows furrowed, as he snapped his head back towards Y/N— finding her looking straight to the glass almost as if she knew he was there, the sound of her lawyer’s heels clicking away turned all the wheels inside his head,

Little brown house,

beginning,

of the end,

————

“So, i found out William Y/l/N changed his name to Hansen Sharp after his company went bankrupt years ago. There’s not much of him few years after that basically just a mundane man living a mundane life but.. turns out, oh no..—“

“Garcia...”

“Hansen Sharp served jail time for a reported violence complaints from several different women but get this, after his bankruptcy, he worked as a high school janitor—“

“Let me guess, the women who reported him were the mothers.” Prentiss shake her head,

“Yeah... 4 Complaints, Violence against children, his victims were girls around 15 years old.” Garcia Cringed,

“Her stressor, she wasn’t even going to try to get her father after she left his house but then she heard it and somehow she met cat.” Tara sighed heavily

“No, cat found her, she told me that.” Reid crossed his arms this time

“Oh! i found his address, he’s currently serving parole, it’s 157 Brownstone— i’m just going to send it to you crime fighters.”

“We caught her before she could find her father whereabouts, that’s why she was so unstable. JJ, go with Alvez and Rossi, Tara you’re with me. Reid stay here, observe everything. Lets go.”

Brownstone,

Little Brown house,

Reid slammed the door open, meeting her eyes as she smiled, “Hello Professor, Is there anything i can help you with?”

She knew.

————

“Tell me where he is.” Reid banged the table harshly, eyes sharp through yours as you smiled still, bringing your chin down to rest against the table and rolled your eyes

“Who’s he? I don’t know anything, professor.” Y/N shook her head as she bit her lip teasingly, enjoying the tense look on Spencer’s face as he leaned in closer to where she was pouting underneath his gaze

“Y/N—“

“Oh! how wonderful professor! we’re using first names now? oh okay um hi Spencer right?” Her voice was bright, bright and manipulative. She reminded him of Cat, from the way she talked to her gestures yet there’s something about her that screamed wounded to him, as if she was tortured and this is the only way she knew on how to feel.

Closing his eyes momentarily, before opening them and slowly walked over her side of the table, gently running his fingers through her hair and chuckled as he suddenly grasp her hair tightly— she barely flinched, “Stop messing around, Where’s your father Y/N?”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” She smiled in amusement, eyes glimmering with its doe like stares up at him. Y/N let out a satisfied whimper as he gripped the hair tighter, pulling it back slightly, his voice was so deep that she could feel the timbre rumbling through her spine,

“Tell me right now, or i swear to god you will never see me ever again.”

There, that right there made her eyes go soft, her smile turned into a genuine frown and she felt as if her guts were being punched— she hate it, hated the fact that he even dared to say something like that. Doesn’t he know that he’s hers and hers only? the possessiveness, the need to have him consumed Y/N the longer she sat there.

“Stop it with the tears, you might be a damn good manipulator to everyone but not me,”

What tears? Y/N thought as she sucked in her breath, she didn’t even realized she let out a tear let alone letting his words consumed her that way. She was in deep, and she won’t ever let him go.

“Oh but you see this, Dr.Reid,” She smiled sadly, leaning closer— so close that he could feel her warmth, and whispered,

“I’ll tell you where my wretched father is, although he’s all bloodied the last time i seen him,” She shrug as she press her lips against his cheek,

“but—“

“There’s no deal Y/N” He cut her off, causing her to giggle sweetly in his ear and tuts, “Ah ah but here’s the thing professor, i don’t mind if i get a death sentence or life in prison— either way i’ll die anyways and best believe i know how to,” She chuckled,

“You see all my life, i never ever wanted to hurt anyone but my father— well and Catherine of course but she’s death, and soon he too will join her.. unless...” She pecked his cheek now causing him to grip the table tighter,

“I’ll tell you where my father is but under the condition that you, my dear professor, shall go to a date with me.. You went with my so called twin, only fair i get the same treatment right..?” She smiled sweetly, leaning back down to her chair as soon as Spencer bolted out the door and thought, If only he knew that this is the beginning of the end, for him.

————

By the time the team got back from the house, Spencer is already waiting for them, pacing around in the room as he kept on thinking about her offer,

“you, my dear professor, shall go on a date with me..”

“I would like to go on a date with you..”

He flinched when he remembered the phrase that Cat used, shutting his eyes for a moment as he thought about their words— analyzing them thoroughly, letting their voices dance around his head, as if taunting him to find the difference,

You shall,

I Would,

Cat proposed, meanwhile Y/N demanded.

He was snapped out of his mind as he heard the team walked inside, placing each evidence and clues they found on the table. A pair of bloodied socks tested to be Hansen Sharp’s, a bloodied hammer with no lead on the DNA match, and a written note of “Have fun hunting, x C” were amongst the things they found back at Y/N’s dad’s house, there were no sign of him and no trace of her DNA that could link her to the murder.

“We need think to rethink the best way to approach her,” Tara muttered, “She obviously knows where he is, whether she’s the one torturing him or not— she knows. Garcia have you found anything linking to the handwriting or DNA on the hammer?”

“No... according to her school journals, it’s definitely not her’s.” Garcia whispered the last bit, eyes scanning through her screen and sighed.

“Reid?”

“She asked me to go on a date, in return she’ll tell us where her father is.” He looked up at his team, to find them looking back at him and he sighed, “Look, maybe—“

“No. Absolutely not.” Prentiss insists, her tone set dangerously low as she flip through the newfound evidence from Sharp’s house. “We will not follow her game, no matter what. She’s as dangerous as she could get right now, maybe she wasn’t responsible for other murders but she is certainly a master manipulator. Whatever you do, do not let her get inside your head.”

Too late, Spencer thought.

“Tara is right, we should try different methods and we have to do it fast, we don’t know how long Sharp could take it.” JJ suggested, he went to pat Spencer’s back as he shake him lightly “We know you think this is your fault, but it isn’t, we’ll save him and we’ll get her.” She assured, Spencer smiled as he nods.

Yet, little did they know that Spencer was beginning to wish he never searched for her.

————

Taglist and Requests are open! Message me or simply send in your asks!

( @drreidshands, @annestine , @addie5264 , @maybankslut , @lolitstiana , @imjusthereformggcontent , @wooya1224 , @reverdevivre )

upcoming updates : TAAHM VII, Blurb Requests!

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [Finale]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!AU (mostly platonic idk)

-> Warnings: Abuse mentions, Like Two Sex Jokes, Yelling

-> Genre: Angst, Fluff

-> Word Count: 1.6k

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: Okay so the more i wrote this the more i realized it was more platonic than anything and also it barely fucking features felix and i’m just very unhappy with it i suppose ... maybe in the future i’ll rewrite idk i’m really sorry for this i kinda hate it but i’ve been working on it for so long i didn’t want to make people wait longer

Soon, the bell rang once more and you turned your head, finally making eye contact with those red eyes you'd been longing to see for weeks.

"Fe!" You nearly stumbled forward as you rushed towards the hybrid, your heart leaping as you reached out to-

"Don't touch him!"

Karen's shrill voice was like an invisible wall that was keeping you away from Felix. You almost shrunk back as she yelled, but you stood tall. The Hybrid Services needed to see that you were strong and fully capable of taking care of Felix and you were determined to do just that.

You only looked at Felix expectantly. He went to walk over to you, but was stopped with an extremely harsh tug on his leash. He hissed at Doug, who was talking to an HPS officer with a hardened gaze.

Karen, on the other hand, walked coolly up to you. "What's your problem?" She sneered.

"My problem? You're hurting Felix."

"We're just disciplining him," She rolled her eyes, "Sometimes a savage animal needs a few hits to get the rules in their head. Felix plays too many games that we don't feel like dealing with."

"Then why do you keep him?"

"Have you seen the boy? He's gorgeous. He's won multiple awards and thousands of dollars at Hybrid Shows. A bit of pain is worth the prize."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "He's gorgeous, yeah? Is that why you felt the need to cover his bruises with makeup? I took care of Felix for two months and he never caused any trouble. He was polite, respectful, thoughtful, and never once did he need to be 'punished'. He's not the problem- you are."

"Why you-"

"Mr. and Mrs..." An officer called the couple away from you. He began showing them all of the messages between you and Felix- proof of their wrongs.

You, on the other hand, turned to the cat-boy and finished what you started, throwing your arms around his torso and squeezing him tightly. In return, Felix only stiffened up. He didn't know where to put his hands, choosing to rest them on your shoulders as his chin laid on the crown of your head. You only got a few seconds of alone time before another pair of arms wrapped around the two of you.

"How sweet, a reunion! I'm sniffing out a kiss and some 'I missed you' sex later on- OW!"

Felix's hand went from your shoulder to Sylvain's stomach, stopping him in his sentence. "Go fuck yourself."

"Only if you watch me~"

You laughed, pulling back from the hug and looking over at Ashe, who was now engaged in a conversation with one of the HPS officers. You were more than thankful to have him at your side. Ashe had gone through the same little trial to get custody of Sylvain, so he was more than willing to help you get Felix out of his shitty situation as well.

Ashe had explained to you how Hybrid cases worked. Evidence would be presented to officers or a Hybrid Facilitator, such as Nancy, and they would make the call as to what happens next. You would be presenting evidence of Karen and Doug’s abuse to them and asking for Felix to be placed in your care. Lucky for you, Felix could speak on your behalf as well since he had stayed with you for two months.

You were scared. Felix was a big boy. He hid his emotions and stayed strong throughout the shit that his owners put him through, but even the strongest people have their limits. Unfortunately for you, Felix was still a hybrid. Legally considered an animal and treated as even less.

You couldn’t give him the freedom that he deserved, but you would try your damn hardest to give him a happy life.

You nearly teared up thinking about it and Felix must have noticed, for amidst his and Sylvain’s bickering he subtly placed his hand on the small of your back. It stayed there when the officers gathered everyone together, letting both sides present their cases. You spoke first.

“Two months ago, I found a little black and white cat in a dumpster. He was cold, hungry, and unhappy. I took him in and learned later on that he was Felix. Felix stayed with me for two months. I was under the presumption that he was kicked out of his old home- that was what he had told me, anyways.” That earned you a glare from the man beside you. “But I sheltered him for about two months, waiting for someone to come looking for him. They never did, so I took him here to get some papers filled out and make him legally… mine.”

You spat out the last word. God, did you hate the idea of having a human as a pet. Felix’s thumb brushed your back again, providing you with his own quiet form of comfort and amping you up to continue.

“I came, got some papers, and left. I should have known that he would have had papers under Doug and Karen’s name, but since I believed that they no longer wanted him, I went ahead and took ownership. Then they came up to my door later that day and took him. He had actually run away from them.

Felix put up a fight at first- he didn’t want to go. I gave him Sylvain, the other hybrid’s, phone so that he could still message me if he needed anything. The minute he left, he sent me a voice recording of those two screaming at him in the car. Since then, all of those messages had been sent as evidence that Karen and Doug have threatened him and harmed him emotionally, verbally, and physically. I want Felix to stay with me. They called him a behavioral issue, but I know how to treat him. I’ve never had an issue with him. Ever. I want full ownership of Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

Nancy nodded and pointed to the couple, who were fuming on the other side of the room. Karen practically stormed up to Nancy and the officers, her face redder than Sylvain’s hair and voice more annoying than Sylvain himself.

“She obviously stole Felix from us!”

“What the fuck?” Said hybrid suddenly interrupted. An officer shushed him and motioned for Karen to continue.

“Felix is an award-winning, purebred Fraldarius tuxedo cat. He’s won thousands of dollars in prize money and trophies and awards, so of course a lower class girl like her would want such a high end Hybrid. He would win her money. She could have easily turned him into the facility, but she didn’t, so she stole him from us!”’

Karen had a point- you should have turned Felix in, but you couldn’t. The little cat had wormed his way into your heart more and more every day- even if he was kind of an ass in the beginning.

He still is an ass, but a little less now. You knew that when his arm moved from your back to around your shoulders, thumb now soothing the skin there.

“Wh- I didn’t even know he was a show cat until you two showed up and told me!” You defended. His hand gripped tighter as if already trying to hold you back. You were rather ready to tear this lady to shreds, honestly, so he was helping.

“You’re such a little liar- and those videos, too! They’re obviously fake. You don’t deserve Felix, you deserve to be jailed for stealing our precious prize!”

“Prize?! You don’t even see him as a real being with feelings and emotions or anything! Look-“ You suddenly licked your thumb, turning around and swiping underneath Felix’s eye. “He’s got bruises that you gave him and hid. Your face and fist are in that video. I’ve got selfies I took of him and I when he was in my care- there are no injuries, so they obviously happened in your care.”

“And how do they know you didn’t use makeup to hide the bruises you gave him?” Karen accused. God, she really was going the extra mile here. “Listen, little bitch, Felix is ours and he will be if I have to pry it from your little dead fingers.”

“You won’t lay a hand on her.” Felix speaks up. He turns to Nancy and sighs. “I wasn’t going to say anything because my pride heavily prevented me, but I am afraid of Karen and Doug. They have abused me in the last few years that I’ve been in their care and I can’t do it anymore. I can recount every single instance where they have harmed me and I will gladly do it if it means I can get the hell away from them and go with people who actually treat me well.” His face stayed straight as he spoke, his eyes hardened in a desperate attempt to show everyone how he wasn’t affected. Felix never was one to show his feelings- you were proud that he did this.

The officers, who had stayed silent for the entire time, looked at each other.

One sighed and spoke up. “You two are under arrest for Hybrid cruelty and will be investigated further and punished as charged.” He turned to you, “Do you mind if we keep the phone for a while to extract evidence?”

“I mind-“

“Not at all.” You cut off Sylvain, “He can go a little longer without his phone. He needs to go longer.”

The officer thanked you and led the two away, nearly kicking and screaming.

Nancy watched as they left, typing some things into her computer before standing up. “If any of you can follow me to the back, I need to put the proper information on a new collar tag.”

Ashe volunteered and dragged Sylvain back with him, leaving you and Felix alone at the front. You turned back to him and slipped your arms around his waist once more. Felix looked around, making sure nobody was near before holding you back properly this time. A purr erupted from his throat- quiet, but soothing as your ear was pressed against his chest.

“You’re coming home, Fe.”

“I’m already home right here with you.”

[dine-on-darling]

Cat and Mouse

A quick thing inspired by the new animal event~

---------

“A whole week stuck like this…” Satan collapsed back into his sofa with a huff, fingers already massaging the bridge of his nose. “This is certainly going to be a trial.”

“Awe, it’s not so bad.” Daring sat next to him, an amused smile on her face while she ruffled his hair right between his new ears. She had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at how cute he looked when he closed his eyes involuntarily to enjoy it. “I mean, there are worse animals to be turned into anyway besides a cat, like uh… oh, what if you’d been turned into some kind of mole, huh? You’d be blind for the whole week. Or a worm, oooh, that’d be rough.”

She actually had a thoughtful look on her face, considering all the possibilities and despite his irritation, that did draw a laugh out of him. “Yes, I suppose the situation isn’t too bad, all things considered.”

“Yeah, in fact, I’m actually a little jealous of y’all. Seems like it could be kind of fun to be part animal for a bit, if only to see what I’d be.”

Satan leaned forward onto his elbows. “I have to admit, I was thinking the same thing. What do you think you’d be? I’d put my money on some kind of cat, like myself.”

“Hm, cats are fun, but I’d rather be a snake!”

He blinked. “Really? A snake?”

“Yeah!” She stood up abruptly, practically bouncing as she moved to stand on the other side of the coffee table in front of the couch. “I mean, they’re really cool; and also think of how kick ass I’d look with scales and slitted eyes.” For emphasis, she brought her hands up by her face in a claw gesture and stuck her tongue between her teeth to make a hissing noise.

Laughing, he said “But snakes are cold blooded, right? So think of how cold you’d get.”

“Oh yeah, I guess that’s true; and I hate being cold.” She crossed her arms with a pout. “Way to ruin my fun with your logic, Satan.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” He spread his arms with a shrug. “I do wonder why the potion hasn’t affected you, are humans really immune to it? Seems strange.” His gaze wandered over to his bookshelves; maybe he has something in here that could shed some light on this potion.

Darling shrugged. She was about to say something in response, but something felt… weird. Goosebumps rose on her arms, her skin started to tingle all over, and she was starting to feel really hot. “Ugh…”

Satan turned his head back at the noise. “Something wrong?”

No sooner had he said that when she doubled over, wincing. He shot to his feet. “Darling?”

There was a flash of light, and for a moment, he couldn’t see anything. It was exactly like what had happened earlier when he and his brothers had all turned, but it couldn’t possibly be…

The strange light vanished as quick as it’d appeared, and the first thing Satan noticed with the return of his vision was that Darling no longer stood in front of him.

He whipped his head to the right and left, searching the room for her. “Darling?! Oi, Darling!”

“Satan!”

He could hear her voice, but it sounded different, farther away. “Darling? Where’d you go?”

“Down here!”

Down?

Satan walked around the coffee table, and his eyes trailed to look at the ground where Darling had been standing right before the light show. And what he saw…

“Oh my, now this is an interesting development.” He crouched to the floor, his hands flat on the ground and his chin resting on them inches away from the now fun sized Darling.

The change in height wasn’t the only new thing about her, though. “You’re kidding me…” Darling reached up, feeling the pair of mouse ears that sprouted from her head. “I’m a mouse? That’s not exactly badass, but I guess it’s cute.”

“You’re surprisingly calm about this.”

She shrugged. “Oh, this is definitely weird, but it’s not like it’s completely out of the blue, I did watch you guys all turn earlier. Although…” She scowled up at the giant face in front of her. “Why am I so small?! I get it, I’m a mouse, but none of your heights were changed!” She stomped her foot in the most adorable tantrum Satan had ever witnessed.

“Hm, perhaps the effects are different for humans. We assumed it simply had no effect at all, but perhaps it was not only delayed, but slightly stronger for you as well. Fascinating.”

“Oh yeah, very fascinating.” She looked behind her at the pink tail sprouting from her back, curiously giving it a few flicks from side to side. “So, does this mean I’m going to be small for a whole week? How am I supposed to attend classes like this? Maybe Lucifer will give me some time off? Nah, that’s too much to hope for from that guy. You guys got any really tiny pencils? Satan?”

All words were lost on Satan right now, not even registering as his gaze was entirely transfixed on the tail swishing behind Darling. Now that he thought about it, there really was something so enticing about her in this state. She looked so small, so… so delectable.

The shift in the air was apparent to Darling. “… Uh, Satan? You good?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m perfectly alright.” His eyes followed Daring as she backed a few steps away from him, the movement exciting something inside him further. “You know, I realized that my nickname for you has never been more accurate, eh, my little mouse~”

“Uh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” She backed up a few more steps, his eyes never leaving her; a grin was slowly spreading across his face.

“And isn’t it so interesting that you happen to be a mouse while I’m a cat?” He shifted, rising onto his haunches exactly like a cat poised to lunge after it’s prey. If she weren’t the prey, she’d think the way he wiggled his butt like a cat too would be super adorable.

“Yeah, wow, that’s super funny, huh? Hey, what do you think the other boys are up to right now? Maybe we should go check- Eeep!”

Darling threw herself to the side to avoid Satan’s pounce. As soon as she pushed herself back to her feet, she scrambled to get behind the leg of the table.

“Oh, come on now, Darling, you know I’d never actually hurt you~” A purr rumbled in his chest under his words. “Let’s have some fun~ It’s not like I’m completely out of my right mind, I promise you will be one hundred percent safe.”

The same as the animal instincts seemed to alter the boy’s behavior, Darling could feel the mousey instincts in her screaming nope nope nope nope nope nope!

She looked behind her, eyeing the space between the couch and the floor. At this height, it was about the perfect size for her to be able to scramble under and hide. But could she be fast enough to avoid being caught? Only one way to find out.

She darted away from the table leg, hoping that staying underneath the table would make it harder for him to grab her.

Satan watched her, the bell on his tail jingling as he swished it about, the sight of her running only making him want to play even more. He let he get mere inches from the safety of the couch before he pounced again.

A tug on her tail pulled another squeak from Darling’s mouth, and she was lifted off the ground before she knew it.

“There we go, little mouse. What a valiant effort that was.” Satan held her up above his face with one hand, the other placed behind him while he leaned back on it casually. She flailed about in his grasp, twisting to and fro. He chuckled, poking her with a finger and making her sway like a pendulum.

He was already hungry simply watching her, but then he caught a whiff of her scent and the growl his stomach let loose could probably rival even one of Beel’s. He opened his mouth wide, eager to lower her in and get a taste.

But Darling wasn’t feeling like an easy snack. She twisted harder, and it was enough to slip her tail from his grasp. Landing hard on his thigh and bouncing off winded her, but he was surprised that she actually managed to escape that she was able to get a head start. By the time Satan looked, he’d lost sight of her.

“Oh, where’d you run off to now, my little mouse?” He sniffed the air, crawling along the floor slowly.

Behind a stack of books, Darling caught her breath. She moved as quietly as she could, eyes scanning the area for a better hiding spot. She knew his senses were already much better than hers as a demon, but she had no idea how much they were jacked up by being part cat. She’d have to be careful.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, little mouse~” He taunted. “Your sweet scent is calling to me, begging to be taken into my jaws. You can allow me at least a small taste, right? A little lick? Although, I can’t promise you won’t prove too delicious for me to not go further if I’m granted that.”

She ducked into the space between two stacks; she couldn’t see Satan from where she was, but that probably meant he couldn’t see her either. Still, it probably wasn’t a good idea to stay in this spot, but to go anywhere else she’d have to go more out into the open. Should she-

The books on either side of her were thrust apart, and a gargantuan hand landed on top of her, pinning her to the ground. “Caught you~” Satan purred.

Struggling wouldn’t be able to free her this time, that was very apparent. The demon’s head dipped to press his nose against Darling, her ears stood straight and still at the feeling of his breath puffing over her.

“Did you think you could escape this little mouse?” He grinned.

“I thought I could at least put up more of a fight.” She muttered.

He hummed, ears flicking. “It’s always amusing watching you try.” He muttered some words in a demon dialect under his breath and pulled back to loom over her, his smiling green eyes staring into hers.

And then he shot forward, and she only saw his open mouth descending on her before it closed around her torso. He lifted his head back up, Daring’s kicking feet dangling out from between his lips. His tongue swirled around her, a steady purr rising from his throat.

Darling covered her face with her arms, saliva coating every inch of her his tongue could reach. The powerful muscle pushed her about, pressing her first to the side of his cheek and then to the roof of his mouth, where it lightly grinded her against the surface in it’s quest to draw as much flavor from her as possible. The knowledge that this was her friend who wouldn’t dare really do anything to inure her wrestled with the new mouse instincts running in circles about her head. She to twist and push against his tongue, but he was too strong and his teeth gently but still very firmly clamped around her waist kept her in place.

After who knows how long of being prodded and tasted, she felt the pressure holding her secure lessen; but that was only to be followed by the sensation of his head tipping back, and she knew what was coming next.

Satan looked along his nose at her adorable legs flailing about. His little mouse sure knew how to make a fuss, and he so loved drawing out her flavor, but it was time to send her along.

He tilted his head back and swallowed deeply. Her legs slid past his lips, and he felt the bulge grow in his throat. It slid slowly deeper, and he swallowed again to speed her up.

Muscle squeezed Darling on all sides, her whole world suspended upside down. She couldn’t even move properly with how tight she was held. Eventually, the space opened up, and she was pushed out of his throat and into his stomach, which growled in welcome.

Satan stood and stretched, one hand going to his stomach to feel how the bulge in his abdomen became more apparent with the action.

“That was a fun game, wasn’t it, Darling?” He licked his lips.

Darling squirmed, pushing her feet against what she assumed was the outer wall of his stomach. “That’s one word for it.”

“What, you weren’t really scared of me, were you?”

“Hard not to be a little nervous when you’re a mouse being hunted by a giant cat.” She shrugged.

Satan crossed walked back over to the couch, rubbing his stomach with enough pressure for her to feel it. “I would never actually hunt you with malicious intent, you know that.” He sighed. “Though, I suppose I did allow these new instincts to get the better of me for a moment, my apologies.”

“It’s fine.” She shifted in place. “… Though does that mean you’re going to let me out now?”

She could feel his chuckle reverberate around her. “Not quite yet, all the chasing really made me hungry, and it feels too good to have my belly full.” He curled up on the couch, tail lazily flicking about and coming to a stop over his stomach. “In fact, I think I might even enjoy a little cat nap right now.”

She sighed. “Figures.”

As she snuggled back against the stomach wall, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this week before a new antidote can be made would prove to be rather interesting. Considering now she was literally prey living in a house of beasts.

[smallerinfinities]

In Her Louboutins

a/n: Yes! This IS a follow-up to In His Calvins (link in masterlist)! This is also a belated present for my dearest @harryandmolly for her Shawniversary. Molly loves a little soft sub!Shawn. So it is only right that I give her this to celebrate one year with our boy ❤

warnings: 2.7k of filthy sub!Shawn smut (with a little switch)

“I’m at the end of my rope, I need your help.”

Tightening the belt on your trench coat, you thought about your earlier phone call with Andrew. Gertler, manager extraordinaire, had been panicking. He knew something was wrong with Shawn, was pretty sure how to fix it, but needed to call you to make sure. His international rockstar had been moping for days. They’d been on the road for weeks now, stopping every other day for a hotel night but always on the move, never long enough for you to come and visit. You had to be in LA for your job, no negotiations. Not even international rockstar sized ones.

You hadn’t seen him in almost two months, not since the Calvin Klein shoot.

It had been excruciating for both of you. Shawn had been sounding more and more tired on the phone with every passing day but you hadn’t thought it would spread beyond that. He was usually so good at compartmentalizing. But Andrew said he could see it in Shawn’s performances, see it in his face every morning meeting fans outside the hotel. The army was starting to notice. Andrew had deemed it necessary to take extraordinary measures and pick up the phone, beg you to take a long weekend and come out.

So that’s how you ended up here, in this luxury elevator headed up to Shawn’s room. A complete and total surprise. You impatiently clicked your red-bottomed heel against the marble-tiled floor, the lift attendant giving you an annoyed side stare. When the elevator opened finally onto a floor of keyed suites, you sighed in relief. The carpet in the hall muffled the sound of your shoes as you walked down the hall, searching for room 2504. When you finally found it, nestled in the corner, you had to pause and take a  deep breath. You closed your eyes, counting to ten and burying the nerves. Opening them, a confidence settled in your shoulders and an ache throbbed between your legs. He was right behind that door. Shawn. You made a fist and knocked. A couple of seconds passed. You knocked again, a little more urgent. Irritated rustling sounded behind the door before you heard the lock pop.

“What the fuck, Andrew,” he started before even opening the door, “it’s still hours before we’re supposed to go—” His mouth hung open, caught on wherever they were supposed to go this evening. You’d never seen his honey-brown eyes so wide before.

He looked fucking delicious. Clearly just woken up from a nap, he was shirtless, that light dusting of chest hair a little less manicured since the last time you saw it. A pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, just low enough to see your favorite pair of black Calvins peeking out. His curls were unkempt, sticking out in crazy angles like he’d already been fucked today. It was evidence of how fitful his sleep had been. You were glad that was about to change.

“Hey, Shawn,” you said, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Your confidence surged like it always did around him as you tapped a finger underneath his chin, a signal for him to close it. He snapped his mouth shut, not daring to speak a word and shatter the moment in case you were a hallucination, an oasis in the middle of his depression desert.

“I’m here, baby,” you read his mind, pushing a little on his chest to back him into the room, closing the door behind you, “just for you.” As soon as you flipped the lock, he was on you, pressing you into the wall next to the couch in the suite. His mouth immediately latched onto the valley above your collarbone, licking and sucking, tasting the sweet skin he’d been missing for weeks on end. He whimpered desperately, clawing at the fabric wrapping your body. When he untied the belt on your coat and let it fall open, he sucked in a quick breath and held it, hands stilling.

“Oh my God, what are you wearing?” He stepped back, his eyes roaming your body shamelessly. You couldn’t blame him.

“Oh, this? You like it?”

You had to admit, changing in the airplane bathroom had been difficult but the look on his face in this moment was worth it. Underneath the coat, you weren’t wearing much of anything. Just a black lace demi-bra and a black lace thong. That wasn’t what had him gasping. It was the garter belt. The garter belt that led to a pair of little fishnet thigh-highs trapped inside your six-inch—

“Honey...are those...Louboutins?” You could hear him swallow in the quiet of the room. You popped your foot back to show him the bottoms, the distinct red color flashing in the low light. An involuntary groan erupted from his chest.

“Jesus fuck.” His forehead dropped against yours, his breathing ragged. You didn’t need to see his pants tenting to know that he was painfully hard for you.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whined, his fingers exploring your stomach with a touch so light it was just a whisper against your skin, a promise of more. So much more.

You let your coat fall off your shoulders, where it pooled on the floor, quickly forgotten. He was so hungry, so eager to get you into his bed. Eager to please you.

“Shawn, baby,” you tugged on his curls to halt his frantic sucking on your neck, a mark sure to blossom by morning, “look at me.” He reluctantly pulled away and looked down at you. His eyes had darkened, dark chocolate, almost black pools brimming with desire. You took his hand and walked him into the bedroom, pushing him to sit in front of you on the edge of the bed. The sheets and blankets were rustled and half strewn onto the hotel floor. You wondered the last time he had a good night’s sleep, probably the last time you held him in your arms. He’d rest this weekend—but he was going to have to work for it first.

“Tell me what you want,” you said, firm but with a sweet like to your voice, “and I’ll decide if I'm going to give it to you.”

“Uhm…” he chewed on his full lower lip, the sight making your thighs unconsciously rub together. You desperately needed friction and were about to lose patience with the tease in front of you. He rubbed his hands over the top of his thighs, still wearing those damn sweatpants, “I want…” he was dragging this out, suddenly nervous, “I wanna taste you.”

You had to bite back a moan, not wanting him to know how much his coy behavior affected you. Instead, you smiled and leaned down to remove your shoes.

“No!” Shawn objected, taking you by surprise, “I want you to keep those on!”

“Kinky boy,” you crawled onto the bed, stalking past him like a lioness taunting her prey. Settling against the headboard, you planted your heeled feet into the rumpled sheets, your thighs spread wide and waiting for him. Slick moisture clung to the lace fabric, evidence of what he was doing to you. “Now come up here and worship me.”

He clamored up the bed between your thighs, peppering kisses on the soft skin until he reached the promised land. At first, he just looked at you. You could feel his hot breath, feel his gaze lingering. He ran his nose up your covered slit, the hint of friction sending you into a fit of moans. Unable to take his teasing anymore, you had to remind him who was in charge.

“Shawn,” your tone was firm, commanding. He stopped to look up, struggling to not glance down at your pussy, and waited, fingers gently caressing the inside of your thighs.

“Rip them.”

“What?” his eyes were unfocused, unable to process what you said when your pretty pink cunt was right there.

“You heard me,” you held his chin between your fingers, forcing him to listen, “be a good boy and rip my fucking panties off.”

An inhuman growl forced its way out of his chest. He took a fistful of the fabric, taking care to run the back of his fingers up and down your drenched heat, and quickly yanked the lace from your body. The sound of fabric ripping and the quick bite of it against your skin caused you to hiss. He pressed his hands flat against your inner thighs and forced them all the way open, your knees butterflied flat against the bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered before he lost himself in you. The sensation was immediate, from nothing to everything, shallow breath to heavy mewls, you struggled against his hands. He devoured you, vibrating moans around your clit, lapping his tongue at that soft stretch of skin above your entrance. The noises coming from him were indistinguishable, lost in your wet folds. You threw your head back and threaded your fingers into his damp curls, holding him against you, needing more. His hands finally left your thighs. He spread your lips open and teased your entrance, circling with one finger slowly, languidly while his mouth made the filthiest noises you’d ever heard against your clit.

“Shawn,” you gasped, battling for words over your overwhelming pleasure, “fuck me with your pretty fingers.”

He sank two of his long fingers inside of you, groaning when some of your wetness ran down his palm. Pumping gently, he stroked your walls in an alternating pattern with his greedy suckling on your clit. Your toes curled inside your shoes, staving off an orgasm rushing toward you like a freight train. He could sense the tension, feel your thighs quaking beneath his heavy shoulders, so he plunged a third finger inside, determined to make you scream.

“Fuck! Shawn!” you cried when he curved all three fingers, knowing just where to stroke to get what he wanted, “I’m gonna come!” He stilled his fingers inside, pressing on that spot, while flattening his tongue against your clit all at once.

You shattered when the wave overcame you, sputtering curses, gripping his hair like it was the only thing anchoring you to the bed, to the earth. He pulsed his tongue and fingers together, working you through your orgasm. You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. All you could do was feel him inside you, against you, lost somewhere between euphoria and satiation. Somewhere, far away, you heard fabric tearing, the sound of a six-inch heel shredding a hotel sheet.

When you finally came down, trying to wriggle away from his fingers that still pulsed inside, you heard his whimpers, his unfocused gasps. You looked down and saw him rutting his hips against the sheets, two layers of fabric from any kind of satisfaction. Tugging at his curls, you tried to get his attention, but he was so disoriented, so deep in your pleasure that he didn’t even feel it.

“Shawn,” you cooed, “Shawn, baby, come back to me.” He stilled then and looked up at you, his mouth glistening in the light. You moaned at the sight. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, still committed to making you come hard. Taking his face in your hands, you drew him up your chest and pressed your lips to his, a slow, burning kiss, full of his taste and yours. He melted into you, bringing his arms around your middle. When you let go of his lips, he rested his head above your heart and synched his breath with its regular beats.

“You were such a good boy for me,” you caressed his face, tracing a line from his temple to his jaw and back again, “made me come so hard.” He hummed in agreement, content to give you everything you wanted and take nothing for himself. For that, you wanted to give him the world, or at the very least, the best orgasm of his fucking life.

“Shawnie,” you whispered, the nickname getting his attention, “I want you to fuck me. Need to feel you inside.” He snapped his head up, the question clear in his eyes. Are you sure? You nodded, giving him all the permission he needed. He fumbled with the sweats and underwear that still clung to his lower half, stripping down and letting his straining, leaking cock free. When he returned to you, his eyes were almost black with desire. You knew he wasn’t going to last long, but you didn’t need him to. You wanted him to take his pleasure quick and hard, wanted him to punish you for leaving him alone for weeks.

He ran his hand up your thigh, lightly fingering the garter still holding up your thigh-highs, letting it pop against your skin. You drew him to your mouth again, communicating everything you wanted into that one searing kiss as he lined himself up. Pushing inside in one quick motion, you both cried out. He stilled, closing his eyes tight to calm himself and giving you time to adjust and stretch around him. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing your fuck-me shoes into his ass, inviting him even deeper inside. He groaned, dropping his head to that spot on your neck already purpled with his earlier devotion and placing a sweet, soothing kiss on top of it.

“God, I fucking love you so much,” he murmured, low enough to sound like a prayer, slowly withdrawing his hips, letting you feel the loss before pushing back in to the hilt. He repeated the motion with careful control, making sure you felt it all, felt the burn of being stretched and the emptiness of the loss. That was his punishment for you—not a quick fuck, but one that felt like it might never end. Your head thrashed, your hands roamed everywhere. Down his back, around to his chest, to your own stomach and chest, pushing your bra out of the way to free your tits, circling your own nipples to add some sensation.

“Does that feel good, baby?” his breath was ragged, his voice pinched with the effort it took to not fuck you deep and hard into the mattress.

“Oh God,” you pleaded, “please.” I’m here now. The unspoken words hung in the air. You pushed your heels into his ass again to make him feel, make him see that you weren’t going anywhere.

He growled, thrusting into you hard.

“Right there!” you sobbed, catching one of his hands and bringing it above your head, letting him press you further into the pillows as he railed against your hips, skin slapping. The wet noises of your lovemaking echoed off the walls in the quiet hotel room. He grunted in rhythm with his thrusts, twitching inside of you. It was only a matter of time. He needed a push, needed you to tell him when.

“Baby,” you squeezed his hand, “come for me.”

His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken into erratic thrusting. The orgasm ripped through him, a deep moan sounding low in his abdomen and vibrating through him. Hot streams of come throbbed inside of you. He ducked his head to your hard nipple and bit down, jump-starting your own orgasm around him, yelling his name. It was overwhelming, coming at the same time so intensely. Riding the wave to completion, you both washed up onto shore in that hotel bed, limp and sated. His heavy body rested on top of yours. Both of you were sweaty, both bore the tell-tale marks of a proper reunion. You with your collarbone bruises and him with his red welts from your shoes, livid and raised on his toned ass. He caught his breath, turning his head to leave one last kiss on the nipple he’d bitten.

You let out a little giggle.

“What?” he sounded alarmed, like he’d done something wrong.

“Oh no, honey,” you reassured him, “it’s not you. I just...I left my bag at the airport to rush here and...I don’t have any panties.” He lifted himself off of you onto his elbows to look at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“I don’t think that’s much of a problem,” he said, grinning while he reached down to pop the buckle on one of your garters, “you won’t be needing them this weekend.”

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272  @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @rodneywaber @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @the-claire-bitch-project @mendesromano @fromthicctosticc @esoltis280 @grittyisaho @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 17

Ansgar thrust home, hard - elbows locked and back arched like a bow, his head thrown back. He held himself there for a beat as the pleasure flowed through him, up his spine and through his lungs and out his wide open mouth upon a long, keening moan. The flame of his release licked and teased at the base of his abdomen, making itself known, giving Ansgar’s flesh fair warning that it was about to burst forth, to explode.

Too soon. Too soon. Much too soon. Much much too soon.

“Not fucking yet,” he growled, annoyed at the childish impatience of his own cock. His words were barely understandable pushed as they were through grit teeth. With an angry roar, he pulled himself from her and whirled, nearly throwing his feet to the floor and shoving himself to stand.

“What?” she gasped. “What’s wr– “

“Get up,” he commanded. “Get. Up.” He bent down and clamped his hand around the back of her neck, lifting her as if she were a rag doll, limp and pliant as she was. With small shoves and pulls, and with his other hand clutching her cheeks, controlling her head, he maneuvered her bodily toward the massive wall of windows.

She whimpered, her eyes wide, her mouth an open “o” of shock, and what was that… Ansgar saw… fear? Fear, yes. Fear – and it was delicious. He licked his lips, tasting it on the air. “Don’t act so surprised,” he cooed. “I told you I wouldn’t be gentle.”

Before she could reply he pushed her against the glass, her arse and head hitting the slightly wobbly surface with a soft ‘thunk’. She gasped, her body tensed, jolted by the smooth, hard, cold pane against her bare back. She spread her hands, fingers splayed beside her.  She pursed her lips tightly shut, her respiration hissing in and out through her flared nostrils. Her eyes shifted back and forth between Ansgar’s, gauging him, reading him, at the same time, in the back of her mind, sussing out a possible escape.

“I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” Ansgar said, at last. He kept hold of her face, his hand shifted lower, the bow between thumb and forefinger now strung beneath her hyoid bone at the fold of her chin and throat. He dug his fingers in, keeping her head still. “Don’t be afraid, and don’t you dare fight me,” he sneered. “Do you want to hear what depraved things I’m going to do to you, Joline?”

Her nod was so imperceptible that Ansgar felt it rather than saw it.

“Good,” he said, eyes flaring. He opened his hand, a slight release of pressure around her vulnerable flesh, and he stepped closer to her, deepening his invasion of her space. His hands were everywhere – ghosting, just barely touching her, coasting over the small hairs on her arms, her hips, her breasts. “I am going to turn you around,” he said. “I am going to hold your.. ah! Oh, fuck! Bitch!”

He’d brushed his lips over her cheek. She’d turned and bit, snarling as she pulled back, a mouthful of his bottom lip between her teeth. He bellowed out an oath, a curse, and she’d released him almost as quickly as she’d grabbed him.

“You like that?” she gnarled. “Yeah, I’ll bet you do.”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he warned, his hand clamping anew around her throat. He held tighter, sneering. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes.” He chewed his bottom lip, soothing the pain from her bite, his head tilted to the side - the cat contemplating its prey. “I am going to fuck you from behind, my darling,” he said, drawing his fingers from her throat down her chest to pinch hard at her taut nipple. “Are you ready?”

“Ah! Ansgar! You –”

“Ssh! I’m not finished!” He squeezed her breasts with both hands, kneading them sensually, his eyes fixated on hers as he spoke. “I am going to smash these lovely tits of yours against my windows. The whole of Stockholm will see me, watch me fucking you, isn’t that exciting? Yes, I know,” he crooned. “I know it is. Very exciting.”

She whimpered.

“And don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. This is my building, my design, my work after all.”

Her eyes darted downward and to the side, gauging the distance from the window to the bustling street below. Ten floors at least. Ten long floors. She shivered.

“What’s more,” he continued, grinning. “I am going to stop your breath. I’ll cover your nose and mouth with one hand, and with the other, I am going to touch you, just here.” He curled his fingers between her legs, making her gasp, making her eyes flutter and her jaw drop as he pressed deep into her sex-sensitized spot. “Yes, just like that. Oh, that’s beautiful. Just like that, I am going to make you come yet again. You will come with me. You will come when I tell you, and only when I tell you, and there’s nothing you can do about any of it.”

“I can say no,” she challenged. “You won’t do anything to me that I won’t let you do.”

He smirked, and gave a sardonic chuckle. “But you won’t say no, will you?” His tone was a mockery, an imitation of a petulant child under threat of a toy being taken away. “Please don’t say no. I couldn’t possibly cope if you said no.”

Her lips, in turn, curled into a broad leer, sly and knowing and wily enough to match his. “Do it,” she said, lifting her chin. “Do everything you said. Do it and more.”

And so, he did.

He did and he was true to his word. Every single violent, brutal, sensual, passionate word.

“Come,” he demanded, at last. “I’m going to… mmmm.  Oh, Christ!  You… you come, come now. Now, ffffff-fuck… now! Do it!” His words carried upon a breathy whisper, barely audible in her ear, his lips bobbing up and down along the curve of it in time with his rapid fire thrusts below, in time with the push of his chest against her back, the desperate swirls of his finger on her swollen, sensitive flesh, in time with the stars that shone behind her eyes from the lack of oxygen, in time with the stars that shone outside, in time with the city lights, in time with the universe… in time with everything.

“Come!”

And she did.

And, with a long, violent roar of release, of passion, of ecstasy, he did.

His hands flew from her body to slap hard and percussive, a massive double “thwap” upon the glass. “Fuck!” That fire, that flame, that coil of quick match that she’d ignited in his belly burst forth and flashed over, instantaneously consuming every inch of him, locking him in place. He shoved his tumescence deep within her, grunting, snorting like a ravenous animal, his whole body stiff, as if he, with brute force, could push through her, into her, within her.

And as soon as it began, it was over. It was over, and it was perfect. So perfect. So incredibly perfect. He sighed, deep and heavy, letting his long held breath out in a massive rush of air. His body went limp, and he stumbled backwards as his muscles morphed from granite to goo. “Jesus fuck,” he swore, catching his feet under him, his hand on Joline’s slick shoulder. “Are you… are you okay?”

He stepped back up to her, and gently turned her to face him, resting his palm on her flushed and red-fingerprinted cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“God, Joline. You… that was… oh, fuck,” he gasped, the breath still coming hard and fast in his lungs. He wrapped his arms around her and gathered her to him, holding her tightly against his body. He pressed a long, warm kiss to the top of her head, bent and burrowed his face against hers, bringing her lips to his. He hummed delightedly as he kissed her, long and desperate and deep.

And she, thank Christ, kissed him back.

Ansgar pet and soothed his hands down her hair, then smoothed and stroked her arms, ironing out the passionately violent (or violently passionate) acts he’d inflicted on her. He was a strange cat, this lion of a man in her arms. Staunchly proud, fiercely loyal, viciously violent and yet strongly protective. He confused her and puzzled her, and she couldn’t quite decide if she liked him or tolerated him. One thing she knew, for sure, no question, he knew how to use his dick and all his other parts… well. And she felt very much inclined to stick around for that.

He bowed into her, seeking to deepen their kiss, memorize the taste of her, sweet, flowery and airy. Like summer in Greece. He picked her up in his solidifying arms, his tongue fully engaged with hers. As if he ordered it, as if on automatic pilot if he led her, Joline jumped into his arms, circling his waist with her toned legs.

He carried her back to the lake-sized mattress. Tearing back the hotel quality folding of coverlets, he dropped both of them with a heavy whoosh and hiss of sheets, Joline beneath him. He crawled over her situating the pillows beneath her head. He brought a sheet up to envelope them.

Her hands eventually grasped his head to end their sensual kisses. She peered up at him, the lights of Stockholm playing over his proud forehead, long nose, stark cheekbones and the hollows underneath. “I know what you’re doing, Sgar.” Mischief lifted her eyebrows, her bruised lips pursed below.

“What… what am I doing then?”

Joline relaxed her legs, the strain of locking them around his waist after turning her to jelly knocked her stamina too much. She kept them laced with his all the same… she wasn’t entirely daft. And she quite fancied him on top of her. “I’m a big girl and I don’t need it.”

“What am I doing?” he repeated a bit more forcefully. His fingers toyed in her fanned out hair as he lowered himself to his elbows upon the mattress, imprisoning her beneath him, below him, jailed by his weight upon her.

But she made a break for freedom, bounced on good behavior and flipped them over, so he bore her weight. Damn him, if he didn’t look as sexy underneath her as he did above her. No matter, his hips were between her legs, precisely where she intended to keep him… at least for the evening. “Aftercare, you big oaf. I appreciate the thought… maybe even the inclination, but I don’t need it.” Her fingers splayed over his chest muscles, the lion tickling her palm when he flexed. “I asked for it, and you…” She danced her sex very deliberately over his.

Ansgar angled his waist upwards, but he was slow to rise so soon after she drained him dry.

“You fucked me sore.” She tweaked his nipples roughly as a small repayment for some of the marks he’d left upon her skin. Her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her breasts and her thigh showed evidence that he’d been there.

He grunted, but discovered her linked the pinch, the hint of abuse. “Are you sore?”

She covered his mouth with the pads of her fingers. “Deliciously sore. Fucked by a man who utterly knows how.” She descended upon one of his nipples and bit down roughly.

He groaned, cursing his traitorous dick for limping to life again. He just needed time. Something Joline didn’t seem bent on giving him.

“I’ll feel the pounding in my body for days to come…” She dragged her lips from one nipple to the other, and licked the lion before nipping at him with teeth. She heard his frustration in the low groan that emanated from somewhere just above his well-defined chest. “When we meet with the insurance people next week, I’ll feel you.” She brushed her breasts along his stomach as she slithered down. “When I have to pick out upholstery or carpeting, I’ll feel you.” She pressed a kiss to a point along the path of hair on his lower abdomen, her hair feathering the trail. “When I meet with my board of repressed men…” she blew a breath across his still sleeping flesh at the v between his legs.

Ansgar sat up suddenly reeling her back into him, her legs behind him, her bum cushioned by his thighs. His arms cocooned her, his back rounded to hold her. He locked her in his gaze and wouldn’t let go. “You’re going to drive me mad, woman.”

Her grin grew, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. “You know the drill, Mister CEO. All’s fair in business and pleasure. I think this time, I hold the advantage.”

“I call foul.”

She giggled at the recall, his repeat from before. “You can call it all you like.” She lowered her voice and leaned into his lips until she hovered there, hers ghosting his. “I won’t stop. I’ll be in here too.” She threaded her fingers into his hair, gently pulling at the strands. “You could have me bent over your desk, or splayed out on that piano in your office. Against those windows overlooking the car park…”

“Joline,” he warned through grit teeth. She was right that she held the advantage this time.

“I can hide my arousal, and you, big boy, cannot. How’s that for a partnership, huh, partner?”

[starscreamloki]

Drabble #04 - 6K followers celebration

Requested by: @solaramoonset

Pairing: Loki x Bucky

Type of content: fluff

Starter: “Why exactly is there a kitten in your hoodie?”

Warnings: -

Words: 698

A/N: Here’s the fluffy drabble, such as requested, but with a little snarkiness from both Bucky and Loki’s side. They mean well, and the ending is sweet enough to make you want to grab for a toothbrush.

6k followers masterlist

—-

“Why exactly is there a kitten in your hoodie?” Loki asked while briefly looking up from his book.

Not a second before Bucky had entered the room, the kitten - which was the pocket of his hoodie - mewed and peeked its head out from that pocket. Bucky chuckled and gently lifted the white, fluffy kitten out, holding it affectionately in his arms. The little feline let out a series of meows, seemingly quite talkative.

“I found it o-”

“Her,” Loki interrupted him.

“What?”

“The kitten is female.”

“How are you sure. Maybe it’s a he, or neither. Or, just like you, genderfluid.”

“Careful there, Barnes,” Loki hissed, briefly glancing up from his book to give the soldier a withering glare.

Ever since Thor had told the Avengers that Loki could shape-shift into a woman, they had been teasing Loki sometimes. Of course it was all friendly teasing, and often Loki handled it with grace and with mischief of his own, but on bad days it seemed to be a touchy subject.

Today was obviously a bad day…

Bucky had already known that when he had entered the room and Loki had engaged in a conversation without putting his book away. He knew he was close to misstepping, but he pressed on nonetheless. “How do you know she’s a she?”

“Because she just told me,” Loki shrugged, not looking up. Bucky was silent for a moment and Loki looked up from his book for the third time, giving the man a weary, irritated look. “Is it just convenient for you to forget I speak All-speak or is your memory that bad?”

This time it was Bucky who gave a withering glare and said, “Now who has to be careful?”

Loki snorted disdainfully and his eyes wandered back to the pages of his book.

“Found her on a mission,” Bucky declared. “She was alone. Probably abandoned.” The kitten jumped from his hold to scramble through the room and hide under a cabinet. “Shit,” Bucky murmured and went to the cabinet to lie flat on his belly to get the cat out.

The kitten hissed and put up a fuzz from her hiding spot. “Ow!” Bucky exclaimed, after the cat had lashed out. “Come here,” he growled, but the kitten kept scratching him. Bucky sighed. “Fickle thing.”

“No, she wants to be left alone,” Loki declared monotonous.

Bucky got to his feet and huffed. “Fine! I’m off to bed,” and he stalked out of the room, slightly agitated by the behavior of the little feline.

However, sleep kept alluding him, tossing and turning as the hours ticked by. Bucky feared for the little kitten. Loki was often mischievous - quite harmless - but on his bad days he could be extremely mean, and it wouldn’t matter who would take the brunt.

Pushing the blankets to the side, Bucky got out of bed. He had to check on the little feline.

When Bucky entered the common room to look for her, the lights were dimmed and all was silent. As his eyes fell on the couch, Bucky smiled. It was still occupied by an in black leather clad God, but he had fallen asleep. Loki’s book was halfway to the floor, dangling from his fingertips with his index finger still between pages. On his chest, tucked into a ball underneath his chin, lay the white kitten, seemingly content and as fast asleep as her living pillow.

Bucky pulled out his phone to take a photograph. “Pics or it didn’t happen,” the Spider-kid always said. This picture would definitely go in their Avengers Whats-app group. Frankly, Bucky still didn’t understand much about that program, but it was amusing.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., what’s a name fitting a kitten that prefers… Well-” Bucky made a gesture towards the couch, “-Loki?”

“I think ‘Sigrid’ would be befitting. It is old Norse for ‘marvellous victory’.”

Bucky nodded. It was fitting indeed. Any kitten that could conquer Loki on a bad day was worthy indeed of that name.

Before leaving the room, Bucky said softly, “good night, Sigrid and Loki.”

“Good night, Soldier,” Loki said.

Bucky startled, but with a smile on his face he left the room.

[monisse]

Bragging Rights Reward

Pairing: Brianna / Roger

Rating: Mature

Note: Brianna is suffering from a serious case of jealousy and seeks Roger to ease her mind and body. Missing scene from An Echo in the Bone. Time liberties were taken for the purpose of this story.

Lallybroch, 20th century

The heavy wood door closed shut with much more force than intended, though Brianna spared no second thought on it, for that front door had taken much abuse over the previous centuries, and it surely could handle a little more.

Brianna made quick work of both coat and shoes, and ran up the stairs to the first floor, bare feet threading on old steps, driven by the fire burning through her veins. The distant sound of running water came from the master bathroom at the end of the corridor, tempting in its call as she followed. She burst into the bathroom, all but slamming the door shut behind her, and was immediately surrounded by warm mist, scented just like him, invading her nostrils and arousing her even more. Her clothes were rapidly discarded, landing on a messy pile on the floor, and then she entered the shower, much to his surprise.

His shock was short lived, instantly replaced by a familiar look. It was a deeply rooted hunger for her that took over his features as soon as she grabbed his face and locked their lips. The kiss was messy at first, shaped by a desperate need for each other, though they eventually found the rhythm perfected through the years. Still, it was not enough to quench her thirst and Roger was realizing that fast. Brianna might have caught him by surprise, but he began taking the lead gradually, responding to the urgent roaming of her hands over his chest and the way her hips brushed insistently against his. The cues were obvious, she wanted him now.

Roger turned her around and pressed her body against the wall, the cold of the tiles sharp on her breasts. Brianna gasped when he entered her, quick and all at once, burying himself deeply in her. He didn’t move for a long time afterwards, while gathering fragments of self-restrain. Impatient, she squeezed him, a kind of encouragement, needing nothing else in that moment than to be well loved, hard and fast against the wall.

With a low groan, Roger started to move. Slowly at first, and gradually gaining momentum. Her hands were spread open on the tiles for support, while water poured over their joined bodies. His forehead came to rest on her shoulder, while his large hands pulled her hips eagerly against him in a desperate pace. Her head rolled back without her even realizing, allowing him unrestricted access to the skin there. It drew him in, so Roger bit the delicate spot at the base of her neck. A loud whimper, with breath mingling with clouds of steam, escaped her slightly parted lips and vibrated against the tiles.

He increased the pace until their combined moans rose above the sound of the falling water. And quite suddenly, as she pressed her ass harder against him, Roger yielded to the pleasure with a muffled grunt on her neck. In that moment, Brianna surrendered as well, closed her eyes tightly and allowed the burning rush to take over her body.

When the frenzy subsided, Roger held her securely in his arms after sensing a slight quivering from her legs. He too was unsteady, nearly blinded by mist and a tunnel vision that only saw the expanse of her wet skin. Their breath came out in heavy gasps, and Brianna felt his chest rise and fall against her back. To her amazement, he bent his head and kissed the red mark he had made on her neck.

When the fog on her mind cleared a little, she detached herself from him and stood directly under the spray of water, eyes closed, savoring the residual pulsing between her legs. Brianna came out of the shower shortly after, sparing only a satisfied grin towards him while covering her body with a towel. The layer of steam was cleaned from the mirror above the sink with one hand, with the other she picked her brush and started combing her hair, now darker and heavy with water.

“What was that?” his arms came around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Should I teach you about it at this point?” she said cheekily, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Roger groaned in reply. “Ye know what I mean.”

She smiled to herself, utterly tempted to prolong the teasing to the brink of frustration, and her voice was innocently sweet when she spoke again. “Can’t I just surprise my husband in the shower?”

“Ye can, but there’s more to it.”

A ruddy eyebrow rose at its own accord. “Says who?” 

“Says the one who knows ye better than yerself.” he even had the courage to smile broadly, a smug reflection.

“Oh, I see! The minister’s cat is a pompous cat.” there was a smile taking shape on her lips, though she fought it, unwilling to show she was enjoying this immensely.

Roger smiled involuntarily at the memory of the game they used to play, which, as with many other things in their life, had been left behind and forgotten in time, belonging to what felt like another life.

“Come on, out with it.” he persisted, burying his face on her neck and covering the damp skin with small kisses.

“Sometimes I forget you’re not a cat, you’re a dog with a bone.”

He didn’t speak again, but his eyes were burrowing into her own through the mirror.

“Fine,” she sighed, “I went to Jem’s school meeting today, and I was waiting there with the other mothers when your name was mentioned.”

She had felt odd ever since they came back to the rural Highlands, the feeling akin to what she felt early on after going back in time. Except they were back to the 20th century now, and it felt nearly as foreign as two hundred years ago. Technology and culture had evolved fast since they left, and they found themselves struggling to adapt, with only a general understanding of present times. Every day, they forced their brains to refresh memories of places and objects, all the while trying to suppress more recent memories of loss for the sake of sanity. And returning to a sense of normalcy among all that novelty, finding their new life as a family, a much smaller core made only of the four of them, also included such events as parent-teacher meetings.

Brianna was slightly younger and much taller than the other mothers. They looked at her suspiciously as soon as she arrived, creating wild assumptions in their minds, no doubt. She stood quietly to the side, waiting. That was until a whispered name caught her attention.

Mr. Mackenzie is a verra handsome man. said a short woman with tight, blond curls around a round face.

The assistant choirmaster? asked another.

Aye. I wouldn’t mind taking a peek underneath his kilt either. I’m sure he’s a fine one.

Brianna had stifled a laugh then, and they must have heard it, for they turned around and dared to pose a direct question to her.

Ye no agree with us?

“And?” Roger’s own question brought her mind back to the steaming bathroom.

Brianna considered the benefits of telling the full story for a moment and rapidly concluded that no harm would come from that particular truth. Still, she wondered how Roger would react, if he would be upset by her behavior. She lowered her gaze, feeling irrationally anxious for a second, even though she had only responded in kind. If anything, it could be seen as a manifestation of pride, and she felt as unapologetic about it as ever.

“And they were saying how good-looking Mr. Mackenzie was, wondering how much better he was underneath his kilt. Then, they asked my opinion having no idea who I was.”

“What did ye say?” when she didn’t reply right away, he pressed again, turning her around to face him. “Bree?”

Theirs eyes locked, blue on green, and it all came pouring out at once. “I said you were handsome indeed, much more so completely naked on my bed.”

Brianna could still see their faces turning from delight to mortified shock. All of a sudden, and quite in unison, they all reverted to their ‘respectable woman’ attitude, adjusting their wool cardigans a little tighter in the chest, and avoiding eye contact with her for the rest of the afternoon.

“Ye did not!” Roger cried.

She nodded, lips pressed together, eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. Brianna walked out of the bathroom feeling utterly satisfied in more ways than one, leaving a stunned Roger behind. At least she had the decency to blush.

[gasoline-and-matches-story]

Gasoline and Matches--Chapter One

Author’s notes: Greetings, lovelies--Spirit here bringing some original content for once. I’ve been working on this story for a long time, started it in high school with my friend @tiltingplanet. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter, any feedback would be lovely.

Chapter One

“I swear to fucking god--I am not skinny dipping in a random cave pool with you assholes.”

Yomi winced at the overly loud voice of her fellow classmate, pressing her back to a cave wall while everyone bickered. The tucked away corner of stone was her only solace--Hard, cold despite the sticky heat that came with a summer day. Of all the things she could have done with her Saturday, this was by far the most reckless. Idiotic. Completely out of character for the white and black-haired girl. Not one for parties or celebrations of any kind, yet here she was on private property in the middle of that god damn night. Trespassing in an abandoned cave system with seven other rowdy teenagers, trying her best to sit and not be noticed while a small bonfire flickered orange hues onto the cave walls in tantalizing patterns. As if the evening wasn’t hot enough.

To be fair, she didn’t consider herself close to any one of these people, minus Bethany--the girl who dragged Yomi to the party in the first place. A beautiful, bubbly female with dark skin and a personality that stretched on for miles. Saying no to such perseverance was impossible for Yomi, who wasn't the most assertive to begin with. One thing lead to another, someone mentioning the caves and a bonfire before piling eight troublemakers into a minivan. Yomi was, literally and figuratively, dragged into the situation. To say she went kicking and screaming was heavily exaggerated, but boy it sure felt like it. Beth was way too aggressive for her own good, and Yomi considered herself a push-over despite all the rules she set to make sure these kinds of situations didn’t happen.

Should have stayed home. Shouldn’t have come out here, but...

There was  hesitation, a reluctance that clung to the walls of her skull and refused to let go no matter how much reason was thrown at it. Was it really so wrong to want to try and be a teenager for once? To be out with people her own age, kissing the final year of high school goodbye with something silly and reckless. At least, in this case, she could have done better. They could have chosen a safer, cleaner, less illegal place to kick up her feet. But alas, idiotic minds seemed to think alike in these cases--There were very few voices of reason, and the loudest ones seemed to be those aching to be as reckless as possible.

“Come on, Em,” Jack’s slightly slurred words drew Yomi out of her thoughts, the drunken creature sitting on a rickety arm chair and sipping cheap beer--issue number one? Check. Underage drinking was by far her least favorite part of the evening, “Where’s your sense of adventure? Some hot springs, a little consensual nudity...what could be more fun?”

Jack was a twin, the other member of the set being his sister Ann. Yomi peered between the two as surreptitiously as possible, analyzing the similar shades of blonde hair and green eyes. They were both equally aggravating when it came to starting grievances in school, bouncing off each other like a very bad game of pong. Attractive, but in a similar way to things like poisonous frogs. Bright, shiny, masking jagged edges and toxic skin underneath all the pretty smiles and charismatic exteriors. Yomi knew well enough not to get close, but they were friends with Beth as well.

Jack was addressing Emma, one of the other girls Yomi knew was as reluctant to be there as she was. Voice of reason number one--Closer to the fire, sitting cross-legged on a thin blanket as she tried to ignore the men imploring her to go. She was the definition of tall and curvaceous, the flickering fire light casting shadows over her form from head to toe. Yomi almost rolled her eyes at the men frothing at the mouth--judging by Emma’s figure, their flimsy excuses were pretty obviously hiding their real reason for wanting her to come.

Emma was not oblivious.

“Eat shit and drown,” She held up her middle finger at Jack, shoving his face away when he tried to make pleading eyes, “I have to drive you dumb fucks home later. I’m not letting anyone into my car while wet, and if any of you try its an automatic pass to walking home.”

The caves weren’t an extreme distance from the small town they all lived in, but it was far enough that most of the fire-side listeners actively winced. 

Jack practically whined, those green eyes wide and pleading as he implored, “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Em…! Why would you wanna pass up on the healing experience?”

“You and I have very differing opinions on what is considered healing,” Emma retorted, sipping a bottle of soda and turning in a different direction, “I’m not here to dip into some glorified, stanky cave water. But by all means don’t let me stop you, Jackie. Just be prepared for the consequences of walking home on the interstate and explaining to the police chief why you’re out so late and dripping wet to boot.”

Several groans rang out, Jack flopping back in that chair and pouting like a sulking child. Drinking, as expected, turned the teen into the equivalent of a drunken toddler. Yomi still found herself sighed internally with relief, letting that curtain of hair fall forward to shield her face a bit. There were currently more girls than boys, so their dumb idea was overruled for the most part. But...she doubted that would be the case for long, not with a certain someone growing more and more intrigued with each passing second and gulps of alcohol. Bethany was the only one way too on board for her own good, eyes sparkling at the notion of even seeing a hot spring and spending time with the boys in general. She was such a smart girl, exceeding incredibly well in class and reaching top marks despite all the chaos she included herself in.

She just craved excitement far too much, compared to the girl she dragged along with her.

It seemed way too dangerous in Yomi’s opinion, especially considering these caves were abandoned for a reason. Mind you, they weren’t too far in. There was a large hole in the ceiling showing the night sky, venting the smoke so they wouldn’t spend the evening coughing and hacking. But the cave system further down had to be treacherous, carved out long ago by either flooding or miners, she wasn’t sure on the details to be completely honest. Each member of the town seemed to have their own take on just how the cave system got there. And with someone in the group walking with crutches, there was no way their desired spelunking adventure should come to pass, right?

Yomi looked at the girl in question, peering through the safety of her black and white hair to examine Mira’s face. 

Sitting opposite of her by the fire was the girl in question, seeming lost in thought while the others argued and laughed. She was pretty in an unconventional sort of way, with strong features and red hair cropped short at her shoulders. Out of everyone in the group, Mira being here was the only thing more surprising than Yomi herself--exploring in an abandoned cave system on forearm crutches was a terrible idea. After a car accident in freshman year, Mira had been through a slew of surgeries to fix extensive damage to her legs. It wasn’t perfect, but she could walk with the aid of a cane on occasion, more than that on others.. Out of everyone here, she was another one not drinking, sitting in a lawn chair with her scarred legs stretched out near the fire. Just close enough to warm her skin, the flickering flames casting dancing patterns over the roadmap of surgery marks, of cuts long healed and what had to be extensive pain. 

Strong.

Yomi admired her heavily, Mira had far more guts and determination than she ever could. It took strength to come back from what she endured, and even more so to keep going with an attitude of non-caring. Head held high, chin up, feet moving.

She seemed a tad bit annoyed with the boys as well, pushing her cropped red hair behind her ear and narrowing those emerald green eyes on Jack’s pouting face. He was still bitching, the alcohol making his words a bit sloppy.

“Didn’t take this lot to be a buncha pussies,” He complained, crushing the now-empty beer can against his thigh and tossing it to the side, “Came all this way and y’all won’t even follow through…!”

“Careful, Jack, your hick is showing.” Mira retorted, sipping innocently from a can of soda when he whipped his gaze over to her. She remained unperturbed, as always.

“Saying the word y’all isn’t hick,” There was a frown on his lips, mingled with intense disappointment as those rusty gears that made up his alcohol-soaked brain started to grind in thought, “That’s cowboy shit, right?”

His sister Ann, who was spread over a sheet on the dusty floor, let out a heavy groan at his words and pressed her hands to her face in absolute exasperation. It was very clear who was in ownership of the shared twin brain cell at that moment.

“Jack you are the most humiliating fucking person I have ever met,” She sighed, tone sounding so tired while everyone else cracked up laughing at Jack’s expense, “Cowboys are a southern thing you absolute twat.”

Yomi purposely looked away while the others started cackling, sipping from a can of soda and trying to focus on the sugary contents as a means of avoiding laughter herself. Jack was never the brightest bulb in the pack, and cheap beer made it all worse. Underage drinking was never a good idea, and the quiet girl hated it with a passion, so this was just proving every point she had created for herself. Bad behavior? Check. Enhancing foolish ideas to the point that they seemed like good ones? Check. Turning an already idiotic eighteen year old into a god damn man child? Two checks and a very exasperated Yomi there to write them in.

Jack puffed up like an angry cat, glaring daggers at his sister as he stammered, “W...well I knew that…! I was just, y’know…”

“Being a dumbass?” Emma provided helpfully, sitting back and leaning all her weight on her arms, “Baby steps, Jackie. You’ll reach the basic level of human intelligence someday.”

Yomi felt like that was heavily unlikely, but she kept her mouth shut, instead fiddling with the trim on her shorts while the group erupted again. There was certainly a lot of drinking going on with Jack, Ann, Beth, and Jake. Ann handled it a lot better than the boys did, but Beth was turning into a giggly sorority girl, which was definitely not a good thing. They were the loudest of the group when it came to laughing and joking, whereas Clark, Emma, and Mira were as calm as Yomi was. At least there were some sane people in the group. 

How much longer was it going to be before she could go home? Beth had lost all interest in her now that she was bouncing off the others, the girl’s choice to drink not sitting well with Yomi. Alcohol as a whole always put the quiet group member on edge, an extra reason why she wanted to be free of these idiots.

They’re not idiots, She reminded herself, shoulders slumping a bit at her own rude line of thinking, They’re being normal teenagers. You’re the odd one here.

Reprimanding herself was the only way to correct her own negativity toward others, so she tried to make it a habit. Yomi also tried to force herself to relax--this was supposed to be fun, right? She was out with kids her age, doing “crimes” and nibbling on fireside food late at night. Trying to look on the bright side of it, to find good in the bad. Given the choice, however, she wished there was less underage drinking involved.

“Now now, kids,” Clark’s baritone voice pulled her out of her musings, looking up to see the dark-skinned male stand up and brush off the dust, “How about we just walk around for a bit? Some basic spelunking, no swimming involved.”

The two other boys perked up at that, practically bouncing in the orange hue of the fire as they stood as well.

“I like that word,” Jake, the other group trouble maker and notoriously horny on main, purred as he slung an arm around Emma and dragged her up unwillingly--someone was going to lose a finger, Jake the best candidate, “Come on now, kitten, let’s go spelunking. Sounds sexy, amiright?”

Em made a visible face of disgust, firmly peeling his arm off of her and gripping to the point of pain. Made obvious by Jake’s yelp of alarm. 

“Call me kitten again, and you’ll be experiencing the joy of my size seven shoes up your ass.” She said in a sugary sweet tone, one that barely veiled the threat she was putting across.

He whined in response, yanking his arm back and rubbing his aching wrist. Everyone else seemed to be standing as well, easily convinced by Clark’s reasonable tone, much to Yomi’s absolute dismay. So much for not  exploring the caves. This was shaping to be an incredibly nerve-wracking evening, the dark tunnels plummeting into the Earth seeming intimidating and empty when she turned to gaze into them. It made the timid girl incredibly nervous, coming to her feet as well and gripping the edges of her blouse with firm fingers. They were already in a place they shouldn’t be, so why add the extra danger to the mix?

 Even Mira, the one who seemed like she shouldn’t be cave diving at all, was now on board. Not wanting to be left out from anything. Yomi contemplated giving her an imploring look, but thought against it. 

“Jake, you would find the word ‘hamper’ sexy. Get over yourself.” With that, the redhead struggled to her feet, limping across the cave with both hands firmly grasping the crutches on her arms. She seemed completely determined, those green eyes sharp and gait suggesting she wouldn’t be swayed in the slightest.

“Mira, hold on! Let me walk with you.” Clark scrambled up, boy scout instincts kicking in to make sure Mira didn’t fall to her doom somewhere. Yomi liked that about Clark-- that he genuinely cared about people. Only problem was that he was a negotiator, trying to find a middle ground for what everyone wanted.

Too bad what Yomi wanted was to go home and be free of this situation. But Clark didn’t know that, especially not with her too nervous to speak up. 

Jake made a face at Mira's back, sounding incredibly immature as he mocked, “Myeh myeh myeh, I'm Mira and have to be sarcastic all the time.”

He blew a raspberry, which was further evidence that not a single male in the group could handle drinking without morphing into a child. Yomi almost rolled her eyes. 

“Grow up, Jake.” Several of the girls said dryly in reply, sounding like a choir of reason in the face of such nonsense. All but Bethany, who was seeming to have a great time now that the spelunking operation was back on board.

This was starting to become tiresome--Yomi would have rather not sit there and listen to the banter that cropped up when Jake got into one of those moods again. Not to mention the fact that staying with Beth would only result in her being sucked into all the horniness they were carrying around. And shockingly enough...someone seemed to notice her exhausted expression before she managed to hide it. Emma had been staring across the cave at Yomi, those stern eyes searching and missing nothing, especially not with her knowing full well that Beth had played a big part in dragging the reluctant new member of the group along.

What Yomi didn’t expect was for her to actually act on it.

“Why don’t you guys go exploring without us?” The woman suggested helpfully to one half of the group, eyeing Mira as she clung to Clark a bit for support and sounding incredibly disapproving of the situation, “I’ll keep an eye on the dumbasses while they look for water, and to prevent any potential cave ins caused by Jake and Jack’s stupidity--”

Cave-ins?

“Hey!” Both boys protested, looking thoroughly chastised--like somehow the idea of them causing trouble was absolutely ludicrous.

“Regardless,” Emma interjected loudly, rolling her eyes at their ranging expressions of insult and annoyance, “I’d rather Yomi and Clarke make sure Mira doesn’t fall in somewhere, you’re the only ones other than me who are sober.”

Clark and Mira seemed surprised to even hear Yomi’s name, turning to look at her with mirrored expressions of shock as if her presence had been lost on them both. It occurred to her that pair had probably not talked to her in school much before, outside asking for help with a question or for borrowing a pencil. Hell, Yomi hadn’t said a word the whole trip minus occasionally mumbling to Beth, replying to her constant questions and cheerful banter as much as she could handle. So those expressions they wore should not be hurtful.

Right?

“Oh, cool, the more the merrier.” Clark said, awkwardly dithering behind Mira as she sought to walk further into the cave. Almost impatiently. The redhead looked eager for adventure, green eyes sparkling in the firelight as she nudged the bigger male’s arm with her forearm crutches.

Am I doing this right? Yomi wondered anxiously, keeping her eyes on Mira like observing the girl would somehow teach her the proper ways to act, Should I be excited instead of worried? Shouldn’t I want to do something risky?

While she fretted, everyone continued on obliviously. Beth had zero complaints with Em’s demands, seeming more than happy to walk around with the other guys in her drunken state. She smiled cheerfully, giving a small finger wave as Emma locked arms with her, “M’kay, we’ll meet back up here, yeah?”

She didn’t wait for Yomi’s response, turning and practically dragging Emma down a branching path. Thank god the more reasonable woman was going with them, to make sure no one did anything stupid. All of it was all too much to bear for someone like Yomi, the drunken state of her fellow classmates a bit too intimidating. She was grateful for that at the very least, they needed one reasonable person to make sure the skinny dipping didn’t happen, and to keep Beth safe and sound from such exasperating indivduals. 

Regardless, she turned when Mira pushed forward eagerly, trailing carefully behind while Clarke shadowed the redhead’s steps.  The heat of the bonfire slowly started to fade as they pushed through the jagged edges of the tunnel entrance, wary not to trip on a few huge rocks and pieces of the cave wall. All the while Yomi was trying to shake her sense of worry, scrambling to figure out just what to say to her two classmates. Why was this so hard? Once upon a time she had friends, close to so many people in elementary school until...well. Things had changed, so much had happened that it sometimes felt like her head was still spinning from the stress of all of it. There was solace in silence, one she had come to rely on far too much.

Luckily...it would not need to be thought about long, because someone took the reigns out of her hesitant hands and spoke. The same someone she had started looking to for any indication on how to be a normal human being. 

“Didn't want to listen to them either?” Mira asked casually as the light began to die away, sloping downwards into darkness and snapping Yomi out of her thoughts, “I don't blame you. The best people have brains in their heads...I think Jake has vodka instead.”

Clark snorted, laughing into his hand. At least he was finding amusement in this. She couldn’t help herself either--Yomi half smiled in agreement, surprised to find comfort in their company now that the more rowdy group members were separated and relieved that the other girl seemed at ease with drawing her into the conversation. Mira had the habit in school of saying the crass version of what everyone was thinking, speaking her mind at all times, but it was somehow...welcome, and accurate. Jake, best known for puking on his SAT thanks to a hangover, absolutely had a skull full of cheap vodka.

“I think you may be right,” Yomi replied, gaze turned away and pulling out her phone to light the path once it occurred to her how low the visibility was getting, “Do you guys think this is a good idea…? Maybe splitting up to go cave diving on abandoned property isn’t...the smartest.”

Mira let out a light laugh at that, leaning heavily on her cane as she replied, “This group isn’t known for their brains. Though I will say,” She gave Yomi a side-long glance, raising one delicate eyebrow at her, “Pretty surprised to see you at this little get-together. You never seemed to be the partying type.”

That made the girl wince, turning away from Mira’s searching eyes. She certainly had the knack for saying exactly what would make one squirm, which was fine when it wasn’t directed at the most nervous one of the group. There was a prolonged silence as Yomi thought over the comment in general, trying to gather the best thing she could say in response. This was the topic of the year, muttered in hallways with curious and skeptical eyes watching her. Why doesn’t Yomi “participate” in anything? Does she think herself to be better than everyone because of her family? To come out to a party such as this after three whole years of keeping to herself, trying desperately to stay under the radar--it was understandable that Mira would be curious.

Others were just too cowardly to ask.

“I...well...I wanted to try.” Yomi murmured in reply, feeling both sets of eyes on her as she stepped down over a lip in the path. She couldn’t remember ever speaking about this to anyone, keeping all the issues locked up tight without burdening another person. But in the dark of the caves, out of her element...something could change, right?

“Just for a day. To try and be... normal.”

Whether or not that made sense was the question, but Yomi didn’t think there would be anything to worry about on that front. They definitely understood what was being put across, there was no doubting that. She realized easily as she turned to watch Clark help Mira down the incline, meeting his now-sympathetic gaze and feeling a bit surprised by the serious expression he wore. It didn’t change much to send him into concerned, big brother mode it would seem. Those dark eyes were gentle in the dim lighting, reflecting the glow of her cell phone with a steady gaze meeting her own

“Is it hard,” He asked hesitantly, like the thought hadn’t entered his head before, “For you to be normal? Or rather...to feel normal.”

Mira pursed her lips, emerald-green eyes also glinting in the light from Yomi’s phone as she waited for the reply.

Yomi let out a light hum in response, meeting Mira’s steady gaze and trying to decipher the emotion there. Something akin to understanding, thoughtful in nature. Since she asked the original question, it felt only right to give such answers to her.

“Might sound  silly, but...it does,” Yomi admitted, feeling strangely at ease while talking to someone like the brash redhead. There was something about her, a silent camaraderie Yomi didn’t understand--maybe due to how much the troubled girl respected and admired her? Strong, steadfast and determined in everything she did. Mira was certainly not the type to judge, nor had she partaken in all the criticizing that went around the school. She simply felt...curious, “It felt easier to just stay quiet and get through school as fast as I could. I...wanted to try and have fun for once.”

Mira snorted, saying exactly what Yomi herself had thought previously in the evening, “Hard to call that shit fun. We could have stayed at Clark’s place, watching anime reruns and covering ourselves in crumbs from the safety of his couch.”

Yomi blinked in response. She had never been to Clark’s house before--the very notion of being able to was somehow strange, a nice change of pace. Her brain created its own images of someplace nice and cozy, domestic in comparison to the big, empty house she lived in on a daily basis. It sounded pleasant.

Mira’s words made their classmate smile, a flash of those pearly whites as he laughed, “You’re just saying that because you like my dog.”

“And what moron wouldn’t?”

Yomi hid her smile at their conversation, trying to instead focus on navigating the narrow path in the dark. It was eerily quiet in the caves besides the echoing words from the other two. No dripping water, no sounds of animals or anything at all. Didn’t caves have bats? Mice? Strange eldritch creatures hungering for their flesh? Her imagination was getting out of control, which needed to be halted before it got worse. The path was starting to widen a bit, the walls looking less craggy and jagged to...smooth? Almost curved at the top like an archway, air drifting in from their backs and overcoming the stagnant smell with the one of crackling firewood. This felt...odd--why was the floor so even, the walls spaced perfectly like the cave had been carved out long ago?

Maybe these were mining caves after all?

Yomi frowned a bit, feeling along the wall and noticing what looked to be something carved into the stone and rock. It was strangely out of place on the crumbling, misshapen tunnel--everything around it had long since been messed up by the earth shifting and changing, but it was only this area that seemed to remain untouched, smooth, undisturbed by nature or anything like that. Yomi probed her fingers further, turning the light on her phone to brighten up what she was feeling for further examination. But that only increaded the confusion, amping up the surprise when she saw first hand what her hands were touching.

Not cracks, not carvings. These markings were different than that, and far more precise.

It looked almost...runic, made up of intricately curved lines and shapes. They reminded her of something she had seen in a video game, or a fantasy movie with witches and wizards. It didn’t look chiseled either--almost like it was burned into the stone with lava or a razor thin torch. That...couldn’t be right though, could it? Was cave dwelling cultists another story told in town when people spoke of the caves? The memory wasn’t exactly there, which was somehow even more concerning. Someone definitely had to take the time to make such strange markings, it was incredibly intricate and beautiful in design. Who could have such dedication, to come into a dark cave and make something no one would ever see?

Yet here they were, seeing them.

This is so unbelievably bizarre.

“What’s wrong?” Clark asked, pulling out his phone as well to shine light on their feet. He took a few steps closer, leaning over Yomi’s shoulder to stare at the marking and letting out a low murmur of, “Wow, that’s strange. Never seen anything like it.”

An understatement to be sure. It was almost ridiculous, like something she would have seen in a movie or storybook.

Mira came up on the other side as well, leaning her weight against the white and black-haired girl without a care in the world. Yomi paused in surprise, not minding the sudden contact, but...it felt weird having people be so close.

“Maybe some dumb devil-worshipping teenagers were down here,” She said dismissively, eyeing the rest of the tunnel with a troubled expression despite her laid-back tone, “Did any of you see a sheep’s carcass on our way down? Candles? Shrines devoted to the dark Lord Satan?”

Clark clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “See now, that’s not funny.”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Mira smirked, shoving his shoulder with one of her crutches, “Lighten up, Superman. Most you have to be scared of down here is Jake’s wandering hands.”

Yomi sighed at their joking, pressing her fingertips to the marks and tracing out one of the more prominent lines. Satan worshipers was one thing, but in a small town like theirs people like that would have been incredibly obvious. Even then, what the hell did they use to get the marks so precise and small? It certainly didn’t  look carved, at least not to her eyes-- more like it was burned into the stone’s surface like a brand. But if there was any scorching, it was not found by her carefully searching eyes in the dark. Something about it felt ominous and strange--the hairs on the back of Yomi’s neck stood up, signalling to her that they should probably just turn back.

Skinny dipping was one thing, finding mysterious symbols in a dark tunnel was definitely outside her final walls of comfort. She had enough spooks for one day, that was for certain.

But when she turned to tell them that, Clark was pressing onward, sliding one hand along the wall and holding up his phone with the other. Mira was following slowly behind, managing fairly well on her forearm crutches and staring at what had now garnered the boy’s attention.

Yomi blinked, eyes widening when she saw more and more symbols lining the walls, different in their patterns and designs and now taking up almost every available space. What the hell was all of this? She quickened her step, keeping half of her focus on Mira to make sure the girl wouldn’t stumble, the other half on the newfound mystery. Marking after marking, curving up toward the ceiling and turning into swirling images as they danced over the curves and stone. Depicting otherworldly creatures, dragons and giant birds in flight as they clashed in the sky. 

They were beautiful, but wasted in a cave such as this.

“Where did these come from…?” Yomi murmured, tracing the patterns with each step and unable to understand any of it, “You would think someone else would have found these markings, but...No one mentioned them, did they?”

She spent a lot of her time observing and listening. Even when news of these caves spread, no one spoke of something such as this.

Clark frowned, his brow furrowing as he lost himself in thought, “Now that you mention it...I was told there was one tunnel system, not two paths. There was rubble around the one we took, the edges more jagged. Maybe this way was opened by a cave in?”

Yomi blanched, taking a very measured step backwards in the direction they entered in. If there had been a collapse before, it could very well happen again. Now that she thought about it, the entry way did have a bit of debris, and Emma had spoken of something like that being possible before herding the drunken members of the group away.

Not safe. We need to go.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mira huffed, genuine concern on her face now as she mimicked Yomi’s motion and stepped backwards, “If cave-ins are a thing, we need to bounce. Too much danger for my liking.”

That was a hard agreement on Yomi’s part. She already felt uneasy about coming to an abandoned cave in the middle of the woods, especially when it was technically illegal. Mind you, kids had done it before and generally only got a slap on the wrists. But Yomi didn’t particularly want to be arrested, especially considering who she was. If she got arrested, if her step father and mother found out what she was doing…

Bad, very bad.

"Yeah, let's head back. We can go to my house," Clark gave Yomi a welcoming smile, putting a hand around Mira’s arm to hold her steady. "You can come too, if you want--my dog Ruby is a sweetheart, loves everyone. We call her Boobie.”

His words make Yomi pause, a hesitant delight blooming in her chest at how eager he was to try and be kind to her. Clark was known for being the friendly sort, but unlike Bethany he was nowhere near as pushy or forceful about it. A gentle giant, one who respected people’s personal space. Even people in their class who weren’t his friends know that he'd be there if they needed him, and having him extend that same courtesy to her despite the reputation floating around school…

I’m not used to this.

She opened her mouth to reply, trying to formulate some sort of coherent response or maybe ask if it was really alright with them, but something made her focus start to drift.

...What is that sound?

Yomi blinked, ears suddenly hyper-focusing on the cave around them in a brief second of clarity from the racing thoughts. It had been shockingly quiet in this area before, far from the crackling fire and rowdy classmates. No dripping water, no bats, nothing but the echos of their own voices bouncing further into the landscape. But now...something was there, making all three teenagers pause and glance at each other in confusion. It was low, so low that for a second Yomi thought she was imagining it, but it brought a sensation that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, vibrating the bottoms of her feet every so slightly. A humming, like a deep bass was vibrating through the cave and growing in quiet intensity. It was the sort of thing one could feel in their lungs, loud and quiet at the same time.

Mira shot a confused look at Yomi’s face, placing a hand on the wall while her forearm crutch dangled a bit. For whatever reason, it made the other girl mimic her action--the humming sensation felt like it was radiating from the walls, below their feet and rising upwards. Clark was the only one who didn’t seem compelled to touch the cool stone, shining his light down the tunnel with a worried expression on his face. What the hell was that sound? What is going on? So ominous, so...mysterious. Surely not from her fellow classmates, they had nothing that could cause something like this, not the pulsing waves of bass that seemed to vibrate from below.

Break...shatter to pieces. 

Was...that a voice speaking? The white and black-haired girl gasped, turning to look at Mira to see if she heard it too--the answer was a clear yes. Her green eyes met half-way with Yomi’s hazel gaze, filled with quiet alarm and fascination mingled in one. Clark was the only one who didn’t seem to hear it, still looking around with a perplexed gaze at the humming.

Break. Shatter.

Let us in.

I’m tired of waiting--I SAID BREAK.

A crackling sound suddenly range out, making Yomi flinch at the sudden shattering of silence and snapping her gaze to the ground. Bright, it’s bright--what is going on? A burst of light made them all gasp, the marks on the wall lighting up in a flash of purple energy that slithered through every curve, every line and circle all the way up into the ceiling with a searing howl that razed against her ears. It all happened so fast, so suddenly there was no room to react. As it traveled along her palm, Yomi yelped at a flash of heat, falling back and jerking her hand to her chest in unison with Mira. It stung terribly, like pressing against a hot brand under her skin was sizzling from the wound of it.

What the fuck was that?

Both girls stared in shock, Clark putting himself behind them to make sure neither fell onto the floor. Yomi felt her back hit his chest when she reared back, his heartbeat fast and just as alarmed as hers was as he stared in mute shock at the glowing runes all over the walls.

Quick as it came, the light left, traveling up to the images on the ceiling and disappearing in a flash of sizzling violet. Every hair on Yomi’s arms was standing on end, heart pounding in her chest and hand stinging terribly. What was that? What the fuck just happened? The air felt charged, like static electricity and smelled of something...strange, like nothing she had ever encountered before. There was no mistaking that it had happened, all three classmates stood huddled in a state of shock as the humming subsided ever so slightly. Mira breathing heavily, Clark’s hands firm on their shoulders as he held them as steady as he could with shaking fingers.

Something had just happened, something none of them understood.

“Holy shit,” Mira whispered, leaning against Yomi and wincing as she lifted her injured hand. Yomi stared in shock at her palm, seeing the same markings from the wall seared into her flesh--upon looking at her own, the girl was met with the same image. The skin around the wound tingled, charged with an inexplicable energy that made her whole hand uncomfortable, “What the fuck was that? You all saw that, right? I didn’t hallucinate some weird fucking energy burning my hand.”

Yomi shook her head, taking in a shaking breath as she stared at the stinging mass of markings now on her flesh, “N...no...we all saw it…” She turned her gaze to stare down the tunnel, hearing that same humming still radiating ever so slightly further along, “I’ve never seen anything like that...never.”

It had been...frightening, but incredible at the same time. Exhilarating, like an adventure she had never been allowed to have. 

And shockingly enough, Mira was feeling the same way. When Yomi returned her gaze to the red-headed girl, she saw her own excitement echoed there, growing in intensity as she too seemed to registered that they had been apart of something strange, something beyond their realm of understanding. Injured or not, it was outside the normativity of their everyday lives, and that was...was…

I want to understand this. I want to know more.

Clark was the only one who was visibly shaken from the incident, not sharing in their excitement as he stammered, “W...we should probably go...That shit isn’t normal, and you both are burnt…!” He took a step back, watching to make sure Mira had properly adjusted her crutches before pulling out his phone, “I’m gonna call Em and make sure she and the others are alright--let’s get going and tend to your wounds.”

Mira let out a light huff, wincing when she tried to grip the crutch with her injured palm and hanging back as Clark took a few steps in the direction they came from, “Hang on now--Aren’t you even a little curious? The walls were glowing, they burned like fire…!”

The eager redhead slid past Yomi, walking a bit awkwardly now that she was trying not to grip the one half of her crutches. Her gaze was locked on the markings, barely illuminated by her companion’s phone as she moved a bit further down the tunnel. Meanwhile, the more timid member of their group was torn, watching her actions and unconsciously trailing behind. Her brain was screaming at her to go back to safety, to leave before things got even worse--the mark burned into flesh would scar, a permanent reminder of this day, and yet she didn’t care. Mira was excited about what was going on...maybe it meant she could feel that way too? Maybe it was normal to want to understand the unknown.

But Clark wasn’t convinced, the only voice of reason as he turned to look at them a few feet away, “Not a chance--not where our safety is involved…!”

Maybe he’s right. Yomi frowned, still holding her injured hand cupped with the other one. Maybe another day, maybe after talking to the others about what happened? Leaving felt disappointing, but...some things were more important than discovery, right? The need to learn more, the curiosity swirling in her gut was so strong she almost spoke up on Mira’s behalf, pleading with Clark to let them look a little bit further. She was never the type to ask for things, it always felt so selfish. Especially now, with danger thrown into the mix.

How could Yomi possible hope to demand anything if it meant endangering the lives of both the people with her? It was not fair.

She instead returned her gaze to Mira, reading the same unhappiness there that she felt and returning it in kind. Both shared a silent moment of understanding, hazel staring into green, Yomi’s hesitant desires plain and clear on her face. The redhead looked ready to speak, spurned on even more by her classmate’s fellow eagerness.

But it was short lived, Clark’s words punctuated like fate itself was scolding them for their hesitation.

A loud rumble started shaking the cave, all three letting out varying cries of alarm and stumbling on their feet. Loud, everything was so loud--stone rattling, cracking, grinding with the force of the tremors rocking the small space.Yomi heard screams echo from the other side of the cave, bouncing all the way down to their tunnel and signalling that the others were feeling the tremor too--a cave in? Earthquake? There was so much was shaking, like the stone under their feet was shifting back and forth and threatening to make the unsteady girl fall to her knees. Clark tumbled back behind them, his phone clattering onto the floor but barely heard through the chaos surrounding the fearful students.

Yomi instinctively whipped around to look at Mira, reaching out to the girl as she screamed and started to fall in the dark. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment--Yomi reaching, Mira falling, room rumbling...she’s still falling, further than she should. Yomi’s finger’s gripped one of the redhead’s arms, a slow sense of dread and alarm growing when she continued to plummet. Beyond the floor, beyond the--the floor is gone. The realization came too late, the shock snapping through her as it registered why the floor was so dark. It had given way, crumbling into nothingness and sending Mira into a free-fall.

A cave in, ground subsidence, Yomi’s head screamed at her, every warning bell going off as she prepared to hold Mira’s weight, She’s going to fall, she’s going to--

But when she tried to steady her weight, she felt it--a cracking underneath her feet. Yomi scrambled, a cry of alarm lodging in her throat as the cave in shattered more of what once appeared as solid stone. It bottomed out with a loud grinding sound, sending the frantic girls into a plummeting down toward the empty abyss. There was no true way to describe it, the feeling of falling with absolutely no purchase for her hands or feet. She’s going to die--we’re going to die. There was nowhere to grab onto, no footing, no nothing. Just empty space that her free fingers clawed for, eyes locked on their descent and hoping to god that Clarke was far enough away not to be pulled into it. Her palm was flaring in pain where it held Mira’s arm, the girl’s cries loud in her ears over the rushing of blood and adrenaline. 

But she still heard him as they fell, Clark’s scream of fear and horror as more stone collapsed over where they once stood.

“No…! Yomi! Mira…!”

Neither could response. All Yomi could do was cling to the other girl, heart pounding in her ears and a choked cry of terror lodged in her throat as the air rushed past.

As they plummeted into the nothingness.

Read on AO3

Like what you see? Consider buying me a coffee