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sweettemptaticn · 4 years

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Dinner

Discord thread featuring: Ryleigh and Bear ( @laid-bear )

Where: Ryleigh’s (Aiden’s) Apartment

When: Friday

Description: Ryleigh cooks dinner for Bear, they enjoy some food, some conversation, a little smutty times.

Trigger Warnings: Smut.

Part 1

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh has never spent so long agonizing over what to cook for someone. She wants to impress him, though she really has no reason to want to do that. He's a nice guy who's having dinner with her because she'd offered and cooking is a passion in her life nobody can take away from her. People may have tried to take other things from her; her dignity, her innocence, her laughter, but they couldn't take this from her. So, Ryleigh finds her confidence between Bear's last message and her trip to the grocery store. She'd baked the dessert this morning - a strawberry shortcake cheesecake. He'd said he wasn't much of a sweets guy, so she tried not to go too overboard on the dessert, but cheesecake is one of her favorites and you can't go wrong with strawberries, right? She's just slipped a pan of vegetables, tossed in her specialty garlic and herb sauce into the oven when she hears a knock on her door. Thank God, she's managed to get Aiden out of the apartment for the evening without much argument on his part. Curiosity, yes, but her brother is never going to say no to spending more time with Cory, she doesn't think. "Just a minute!" Ryleigh calls, wiping her hands on one of the dish towels. The steak is still marinating and has about fifteen minutes left before she can slip them onto the small grill she'd bought about a week ago because Aiden needed one. Readjusting the cardigan on her shoulders, she smooths her hands down the front of her shirt, vaguely wonders if she should've just thrown on a t-shirt, but it's too late to change her mind as she shuffles toward the front door, pulling it open. "Hey, sorry, I was putting the vegetables in the oven, come in!" Ryleigh greets him with a wide smile, her lips lightly glossed as they'd been when she found him in the coffee shop, her golden hair down and spilling around her shoulders this time.

"Did you find the place okay?" She questions as her gaze drinks him in. It's not the first time her fingers have itched to touch his face, to push through the scruff there just to see what it would feel like against her skin. Instead, she closes the door behind him and flips the lock, making a beeline back toward the kitchen. "I hope you like steak? There were a couple of other dishes I thought of, but you can never go wrong with a good steak," she muses lightly, turning on the small grill so it can warm up while she waits for the steak to finish marinated. "Please, have a seat, take your coat off... can I get you anything? Water? I think Aiden has beer in the fridge somewhere," Ryleigh offers brightly as she faces him.

BEAR

Bear slept in late on Friday morning. He normally hated not getting up with the sun, didn't like what it felt like to wake up with sun streaming in through the window, the sounds of cars and and people who'd already begun their day filling his ears as he laid in bed. He hated that shit. And yet when he'd passed out, he knew he was going to sleep hard. That was what happened after you worked two overnight shifts at a strip club and spent the early parts of the morning peeling wasted guys off of girls who just wanted to go home and take a shower. When he'd finally decided to get out of bed and showered himself, he wondered why he'd agreed to go to Ryleigh's house. He didn't know her. She was definitely much younger than her. And, again, he didn't know her. This was not normal behavior for him, and he wasn't sure if it was a particularly good idea to be alone in an apartment with a girl he didn't know. So as he showered, he rehearsed how he would cancel. Should he text her? Call her? Should he wait until he got to her place, then get one of his buddies from home to call him pretending to be his boss calling him in for a shift? As he toweled off, he'd decided to just pick up the phone and bite the bullet, make sure she hadn't decided to cancel herself--which might have been a relief--before he gave her something that didn't sound too much like a line. But then...he hadn't been able to do it. He didn't know why. It should've been easy, especially with how disconnected he always felt with texting people--it always felt so mechanical and robotic...he didn't like not being able to gauge tone, either. But he found himself agreeing to go over there, adding her address to her contact information and wondering what the hell he was doing. He spent the afternoon distractedly watching TV. It was the first time he'd owned one since he lived in Alaska and he found he had like...literally thousands of things to watch but he was distracted as he flipped through the options, mind only

managing to stay on one thing for a few moments before he remembered his plans for the night and he was distracted all over again. When it got to be about an hour before he was meant to show up, he drove in the direction that Ryleigh lived and parked, walking through a few shops. She had told him not to bring anything but he couldn't just show up empty handed, eat her food, and fuck off. After debating a few things, he somehow ended up with a cactus. Why a cactus? No idea. Girls liked plants though, right? So he showed up at Ryleigh's place, cactus in hand, and knocked, nerves suddenly shooting to his gut as she answered the door. Something about that smile...he was totally baffled by how he felt when she smiled every time, like he couldn't help but matching it, feeling unaccustomed to the warmth after so long without it. "Smells great," he said as he walked in, following her into the house and looking around a little before he moved to put the cactus on a spot on the counter far from the food. Maybe he shouldn't mention it? Should he not of brought it? He felt stupid but pushed the feeling aside as he shrugged out of his coat. "I love steak," he said, genuinely pleased, and looked over at her, watching her for a beat before he hung his coat over the back of a chair. "Can I help with something?" he asked, leaning against the counter before slipping past her, hand brushing her waist, before he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. "You're already doing everything, let me at least get this," he said, extending a bottle to her with one hand as he grabbed another for himself.

RYLEIGH

He's carrying a cactus. A small cactus, but a cactus none the less and the fact that he brought anything... she tries not to think too much on it, choosing to focus all of her attention on the cactus. "It's going to taste just as amazing. You brought me a cactus? I've never taken care of a cactus. I barely manage Elton, he's my hedgehog, but I love it, thank you," Ryleigh beams brilliantly in his direction while he removes his coat and drapes over the back of a chair. Her gaze lingers on his biceps, on the sheer size of him taking up space in the kitchen Ryleigh typically flits around so easily. It's part of the reason why Aiden calls her humming bird. She can never sit still. "N-o, I think.. I got it," she answers, hoping he doesn't catch the hitch in her voice when his hand brushes along her waist. Only just, but with enough presence for her to feel it down to the tips of her toes. Those familiar knots are back, the ones she'd felt sitting across from him in the coffee shop, and she hopes she's not going to make a complete fool out of herself. He offers her one of the beers, which Ryleigh takes, but doesn't drink, slipping the bottle onto the counter next to her. It'd be rude not to take it from him, and usually people are so put off by the fact that she doesn't drink. However, after a moment, she smiles warmly at him. "Thanks, I don't really drink, but you can keep that one out for you also, if you'd like?" She nods toward the bottle as she proceeds to cut up a few more vegetables for the small salad she's put together. There are potatoes, too, already boiled and ready to be mashed down, but she'll get to those in a second.

BEAR

Oh my God, why did he bring a stupid fucking cactus? Who brings a cactus to dinner? He had originally planned on bringing a bottle of wine but then chickened out, what if she didn't like wine? It turns out that both of his ideas were stupid because a) she doesn't seem like a plant person now that she's talked about it and b) she doesn't drink. Genius, Bear. His internal monologue is a lot of beating himself up which surprises him considering this was not supposed to be a big deal, it's dinner with a girl--a fucking beautiful girl who smiles all the time and who Bear is pretty sure can't weigh more than like seven pounds--but still just dinner. He reached into his pocket for something to do with his hands, pulling out his keys and using a bottle opener keychain to pry the cap from the glass. He tucked the cap and keys back in his pocket, wondering if he should've gone along with his original plan, why the hell was he so nervous? "What--no, it's cool, I'll--I'm good with the one," he said, clearing his throat and getting a handle on himself after what he was sure was a slightly too long pause. He leaned against the counter at a spot where he hoped he wouldn't be too much in the way, watching her hands because that felt like a safe option at the moment, taking a deep sip from the beer bottle. He vaguely wondered if she grew up around alcoholics too or if it was something else--he wanted to ask her, but it was definitely not the question for right now. "Damn, you've really gone all out," he said after he registered how many things she had going at once. "I hope I'm not putting you out."

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh loves the cactus, because it won't die if she goes a day without watering it (she vaguely remembers something about cacti being able to retain their own water?) and the fact that he'd thought about bringing anything at all? There was definitely more than meets the eye to this man and Ryleigh can't wait to learn as much as she can about him. "Okay, sorry. It's more of a personal choice than anything else. I've never really had a taste for it and the one and only time I ever touched alcohol back in high school, I ended up three hours away from home with no memory as to how I got there, so I typically avoid it," she explains as she finishes the tomatoes, tosses them in a mixing bowl with the lettuce, before moving on to the radishes. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough of it he probably wouldn't try to question it further. Parts of her past Ryleigh rarely likes to revisit. "What? No! Honestly, I love stuff like this," she assures him, lifting her gaze to meet his, enjoying the image of him leaning against the counter, in her kitchen (because she's definitely stolen it from her brother), a little too much. Finishing up the radishes, she tosses them into the bowl as well, before grabbing up the small bowl she'd mixed a dressing into. Dipping her finger into it, she slips it past her lips for taste, a soft sound of approval in her throat. "That's so good, here, try this," she insists with hopeful eyes and without thinking, repeats the action before offering her index finger to him, dressing dripping down the slender digit.

BEAR

Bear shook his head as Ryleigh explained the alcohol thing, not wanting her to feel obligated to talk about it but he winced a little all the same at the story. "Yeah...definitely not a stranger to nights like that," he said, scratching the back of his neck a little sheepishly, tone making it clear that he'd had his fair share of ending up somewhere with no memory of the thing, obviously not knowing the deeper layer there. "I'm not judging, whatever works," he said, not sure really how he felt about it or if he should feel a way about it given that this girl's choices definitely shouldn't have been something he was thinking about affecting him. He watched her work, half smiling when she reassured him, even more so when he met her eyes. He liked watching her work, the deft way she used a knife or moved about the kitchen. It was familiar and relaxed him a little, the routine of it, the obvious ease with which she moved through her tasks. When he watched her suck dressing off her finger, though, he tensed a little, feeling his adam's apple bob a little at the sight. Fuck. He looked at her finger as she offered it to him, wondering what the hell he was meant to do. About seven different options--including just dipping and making his way out of there without saying a word--crossed his mind...but he was pretty set on not embarrassing her so, mind going blank, he leaned forward and sucked the dressing from her index finger, tongue grazing the tip of it before he pulled away, entire body aware of what he just did. "Mhm," he mumbled, nodding in agreement. "Better than the store bought stuff."

RYLEIGH

For a heartbeat, Ryleigh debates taking her hand back when he tenses. It's subtle, but her own gaze is drawn to his neck, where she'd been mesmerized by the tenseness of his muscle before. In the coffee shop, which seems like it was a life time ago, but it's really only been a few days. She's close to following through, to take her hand back and apologizing for how forward that might've seemed, when his lips close around the slender digit instead. Heat flickers up her arm as the warmth envelopes her finger, a bare brush of his tongue against the tip making everything south of her naval clench tightly. It happens so quickly, a blink of an eye, truly, and she's taking her hand back, a wild flush coloring her porcelain cheeks. "Absolutely better than the store bought stuff. I won't buy bottled dressing anymore unless I'm in a bind," she agrees, hoping her voice sounds a lot less breathless than she feels right about now. Lips quiver into a soft grin when she realizes the time, and she spins away from him - thankful her path to the refrigerator is clear - to grab the marinated steaks from inside. A couple minutes later, a familiar sizzle echoes through the kitchen as she lays the steaks onto the hot grill, inhaling the scent of herbs and spices. It's almost as mouthwatering as the warm, woodsy scent of him she'd caught the moment he walked past her earlier.

BEAR

Bear watched her intently as she pulled away, studying her as if the flush on her skin could give him some idea of what was going on in her mind, because his own thoughts were a mess. While his body was currently following every demand his brain was telling him to hide it--and successfully so, thank God--he was turned on. He tried to think of a time he'd ever not sexually had someone's fingers in his mouth or vice versa and he grew an absolute blank. Then again, he couldn't remember a time when he'd randomly accepted an invitation to have a girl cook for him, so maybe he was just going to have to lean in to the fact that everything was going to be abnormal. That said, he liked how the color looked on her cheeks and he wondered if it had traveled anywhere else. He sat with that thought as he took another long sip of beer, telling himself that he was only going to have the one as much as he wanted to get a little drunk and dull whatever weird thoughts and feelings were plaguing him. He kept his eyes on her, almost not noticing the food or how good it looked. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence...instead, he watched her, lips pressed together in thought. After a long pause, he spoke. "You really do know what the fuck you're doing, don't you?" he nodded to the grill top.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh steps away from the grill to allow the steaks to cook. His statement does nothing to diminish the flush in her cheeks despite the way she beams proudly at him. "I've been cooking since I was about eight? I kind of had to learn to fend for myself so ever since I started throwing things in a pan to see what worked, it's been a passion of mine. Baking on the side is more of a guilty pleasure." Ryleigh explains with a gentle shrug, shifting back to the salad where she finally mixes the dressing with the lettuce. "In that cabinet behind you? Would you mind grabbing a couple plates and bowls for me? I usually have to climb onto the counter to get them, but since you're here...?" Her voice trails, giving him a proper smile which says 'please?' before she moves to take the bowl of salad to the small table Aiden owns. She sets it down on the middle, along with the salt and pepper she'd grabbed, before making a beeline for the refrigerator again to grab out sour cream and an herb butter. Ryleigh's motions are fluid and graceful, there's no thinking twice about what she's doing with the meal because this is all second nature to her. "How done do you prefer your steak?" She asks while adding sour cream and butter to the potatoes she's already boiled so she can mash them down. Her gaze shifts back to him as she takes the hand held masher and starts to work it into the bowl in front of her, wondering if he's ever going to catch her in a moment where she's staring at him for a little too long. Can she really be blamed?

BEAR

Bear listened to Ryleigh talk about fending for herself from a young age and he raised a brow, especially at the age that she mentioned...he'd only been nine when his mom had walked into the bay, and that had marked the beginning of basically taking care of himself as well. He felt a kinship with her, definitely listening as she talked but a little distracted by the fact that it was starting to seem like maybe she'd had a rough upbringing. He felt a little of his awkwardness crumble at that, half smiling when she talked about baking. "Well, it seems like it paid of," he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile before hoe nodded, moving to carefully grab the plates and bowls she'd asked for, snorting because it was an easy reach for him and basically at eye level. He took them down and moved them to the counter, brushing past her again to wash his hands, looking over as he scrubbed his palms when she asked the question. "Medium, medium rare, I'm not picky," he said truthfully, watching her hands for a moment and then her face once she looked away.

RYLEIGH

"We'll see," she grins, a little envious of his ease with which he's able to grab the dishes from the cabinet. She hadn't been exaggerating when she mentioned climbing onto the counter - sometimes she uses the step stool, or she has to hop up to grab what she needs. He's able to do it so effortlessly and she appreciates his help. He brushes past her as he sets them down, a waft of woods and warmth completely distracting her, her motions stuttering just slightly. Ryleigh takes that as her cue to step away from the bowl for the moment, flipping the steaks about seven minutes after she'd first put them on. "You say that, but I've seen people go crazy when their steak isn't cooked right," she teases, crossing back to the bowl to finish mashing the potatoes. Once those are done, she, again, dips her finger into the mixture (it's not very sanitary and she wouldn't do it if she wasn't cooking for someone she considers a friend... an acquaintance?) to taste for seasoning. "Hey, can you try this and see if you think it needs anything else?" She asks, this time grabbing a spoon for him, because she's not sure she can take another moment like before without throwing caution to the wind and throwing herself on him. Dipping the spoon into the potatoes, she holds the silverware out to him, an expectant look in her eyes.

BEAR

Bear laughed a little at the comment about stakes being cooked wrong, shaking his head a little. "I've seen that too.." he said, thinking about a time his father threw a plate like a frisbee at his mother and then shaking the memory off. "As far as I'm concerned, having food in my stomach is about as good as I can ask for, anything else is just a bonus," he said, moving to dry his hands on a towel before he raised a brow and moved toward her. Bear took the spoon from her, sliding it into his mouth and making a pleased face at that. "S'good," he said as he swallowed, moving to scrub the spoon clean before he handed it back to her. "Really good," he followed up as he met her eye, meaning it genuinely. "Seriously, you've gotta give me something to do to help...like I told you the other day, idle hands," he said, clearly joking but God also just wanting something to do that wasn't stare at her.

RYLEIGH

If only everyone could have that same thought process, though. “I like the way you think, Bear,” Ryleigh compliments. When he tastes her potatoes, she’s unable to stop beaming the way she is, grateful he’d enjoyed that small taste. “Okay... how good are you with a knife?” She asks curiously, brow arched in a teasing manner before she takes the bowl of finished potatoes to the table. Returning back to the kitchen, she reaches into the refrigerator to grab the package of half used strawberries, turning to him to offer the package to him. “Can you slice up some of these for me? They’re to go with dessert,” she explains, finding him a cutting board and a small knife to cut the fruit with, setting him up on a space of counter by the sink. When she moves to walk away from him, her hand absently brushes against his, fighting this innate urge she has to trail her fingers up his arm - to follow the strong chords of muscle until she reaches the peak of his tattoo. Taking a step back, her teeth dragging over her lower lip, she spins away from him to check on the steaks.

BEAR

Bear liked the way she said his name, the way she smiled at him...he was a little distracted, so much so that he didn't realize what she'd said at first. "Wha--oh, yeah, great with a knife," he said, shaking his head a little as he snapped out of it. He was glad to have something to do with his hands, glad to have the threat of slicing his thumb off keeping his attention on something other than her and how tiny she was and the fact that every time they touched all he wanted to do was stop what he was doing, for her to stop what she was doing, and for them to keep touching each other. But in a totally platonic way, don't make it weird, Bear, just cut the fucking fruit. He did a very passable job of slicing strawberries, only looking up a few times to watch her with the steaks. He took in the way her ass looked in her jeans, the sliver of skin between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband, how her hair was so blonde it almost looked white. After putting his attention back on the job at hand and finishing up, he looked at her over his shoulder. "Anything else you need me to do?"

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh takes care to plate the steaks, leaving them to rest because that’s how they keep their juiciness. Behind her, she can hear the rhythmic chopping Bear is doing, and she’s trying her best not to slip in front of him and take control, not because she doesn’t believe in him, but because she wants to be close to him. Is that strange? To want to be close to someone she’s only known for two weeks and has maybe three conversations with? The timer on the oven goes off, prompting her to pull the pan of roasted vegetables from inside, the aroma of garlic and herbs becoming more prominent in the kitchen. “Here,” she offers at his question, taking the cheesecake from the refrigerator and sliding it onto the counter beside him. “Just take the slices like this,” she starts, having to each over in front of him, her hand barely brushing his torso when she does, to grab a few of the slices before she starts fanning them out along the edges of the crust. “Can you finish this while I set the table?” Ryleigh queries softly, glancing up at him as she remains next to him. She pops a slice of strawberry into her mouth, a drop of juice from the ripe fruit caught on her bottom lip.

BEAR

Bear is glad for something to do because she's close to him, closer than before, and unlike before she's not moving right away and he definitely needs to do something with his hands. He starts to put the strawberries along the edge like she'd showed him, his work not as meticulous or as neat as hers because he was distracted and also because he didn't really care to be. He nodded at her, looking up from his work at the question and meeting her eye, head tilted down toward her. "Yeah, go for it--" he said, watching her eat the strawberry and catching sight of the juice on her mouth. Fuck. He cleared his throat and put his eyes back down to the cut up strawberries again before he looked at her. "You've got a little--" he said, rubbing his thumb over his lip to show her, just as he had the spot on his chin when she'd had icing there before.

RYLEIGH

She probably spends far too long watching his fingers with the strawberries, juices clinging to his own skin with ever strawberry laid down. It’s a mess and she doesn’t want to critique him because he’s helping her, especially when she’s far too occupied with thinking about how his fingers would taste if she— “Hm? What?” Her brows furrow together, a cute little crinkle in the center of her forehead, before she notices what he’s doing. “Oh- shoot, I— wow, why am I always a mess around you?” Ryleigh laughs, wiping her hand over her mouth before stepping away to wash her hands. “Everything’s ready, so once you’re done with that, we can eat,” she suggests while playing the roasted vegetable next to the steak. Utensils are grabbed, plates are carried to the table. Bowls are placed next to the plates for the salad. All appliances have been turned off. “Alright, come, come, have a seat,” she waves him over as she shrugs out of her cardigan because it’s warm in the apartment now. Her arms are bare, an ugly thin scar following the length of her forearm of her left arm from her elbow to two inches above her wrist, and there’s a sliver of skin between her shirt and the high waist of her jeans. “Thank you for helping me,” Ryleigh smiles at him, serving them both a small bowl of the salad.

BEAR

Bear watched her face and wishes he would reached up and smoothed the pad of his thumb across her lip so he would know if it was as soft as it looks. But that’s definitely not something you do to a stranger when you’re in their house and they’ve done nothing but be nice to you. Maybe Ryleigh was like this with everyone. Maybe she was one of those girls who just didn’t know how to not to move through the world in a way that seemed like he was always flirting—he’d know them, there was nothing wrong with that aside from the fact that it was confusing, but it would’ve ultimately been his problem. He wants to tell her she’s not a mess but he knows his tone wouldn’t be right so he doesn’t, instead glancing at his finished work before he cross the room to the table. He sits down across from her, wondering how the hell it ended up this way—weren’t first hangouts normally concerts or drinks or movies, platonic or otherwise?—before he moved his napkin to his lap and looks at her. His eyes trace briefly over the scar, careful to look away quickly so she won’t catch him staring. “I barely did anything,” he said, glad to have something to think about other than all of the new skin he can see. “This is like...all fucking out though,” he said, watching her put salad into his bowl. “You honestly didn’t need to do all this, you could’ve put a hot dog in front of me and I’d’ve been grateful.”

RYLEIGH

"You did enough!" She's quick to argue lightly, no real heat in her voice. "You definitely helped, trust me. I know I didn't need to, but I like doing things like this. Food is a universal language because we all have to eat it and why not be able to share what I know?" Ryleigh shrugs gently, reaching for her fork before she realizes she'd left the steak sauce in the fridge. "Oh, wait," she stands from the table to rush back to the kitchen, another tug of the refrigerator door and she's grabbing the bottle of A1 from the door, a bottle of water for herself, and another beer for him just in case his was warm now. Returning, she drops back into her seat after setting the beer in front of him, the water in front of her and the steak sauce in the middle of the table. "Try it without the sauce, first, but just in case you prefer it with," she suggests, lips pulled into a knowing grin. Any time she's made steak in the past, nobody has had to eat sauce with it, and isn't that a testament to a truly well cooked steak, flavoring and all? "Tell me something about you, Bear. Anything you want to tell me," Ryleigh questions after taking a bite of her salad, eager to get to know all there is to know about this mysterious human in front of her.

BEAR

Bear likes that she doesn’t seem to roll over when he disagrees with her, doesn’t do that thing that girls sometimes do when they scoff and then act like they’d meant to be saying the thing you were saying the whole time. He had spent time with girls who’d been that way, he’d watched his friends back home marry them. He liked a bit of a background, someone who seemed like they’d fight him if they thought he was wrong. He finds it admirable. He watches her get up, already knowing he wouldn’t touch the sauce—it was basically sacrilegious as far as he was concerned, and he knew by the smell that it was well seasoned. He looks at the beer, deciding the break the rule he set earlier as he grabs his keys from his pocket and pops the cap off, setting it next to his knife before he took a sip. “Tell me about you instead,” he shakes his head, picking up his fork to take a bite of his salad as well, tasting the dressing and thinking about how it had tasted different on his skin earlier. He chews before going on, “How d’you like it here?”

RYLEIGH

He deters from answering her question, which could mean he's not the type to ever talk about himself or he merely doesn't have anything he's itching to share. Or he simply doesn't want her to know, but if he truly didn't want to spend time with her, he wouldn't have allowed himself to come to dinner... right? Ryleigh bats away those momentary thoughts, because she's not about to let her own insecurities ruin a perfectly good meal. "It's different. I grew up in Kentucky and then lived in New York for a few years and I guess you could say Dayton's almost a happy medium between the two? Not quite big city, but certainly not a small town by any means." She answers after swallowing her first bite. "Honestly, I only moved here at first because my brother lives here and my friend Sadie convinced me I'd fall in love. I've been here two months already and... I'm not in love with the city, yet, but I guess I can see how it grows on people."

BEAR

Bear listens to her answer as he takes another bite, liking the way her voice sounds and the careful way she seems to talk. He watches her, fork hovering above his bowl of salad, next bite temporarily forgotten as he tries to imagine her in Kentucky, a place he’s only ever heard about on the news and in school. That would explain the accent then. He wonders where her brother is now, whether he’s going to show up and Bear is going to have to awkwardly introduce himself as a guy who once ran into his sister at a bakery looking for a coffee. He lets those thoughts ebb away though, nodding a little at her answer as he tires to think of something worthwhile to say. “This isn’t the forever place then?” He prompts.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh leans back in her chair, her legs crossed beneath the table at her knees, and she chews and swallows down the bite of her vegetables she'd just taken before answering him. "I wouldn't say it's a forever place? I don't know, honestly. I kind of left New York on a whim with no destination in mind." She answers, a shadow of quiet in her usually bright gaze as her eyes drop away from him to settle on her plate instead. Nobody knows her truth. Cooper knows a little bit, but not enough to really know anything beyond making his own assumptions. "I called Sadie my second day on the road and she convinced me to make the trek cross country, and here I am." Ryleigh adds, a soft almost laugh rolling off of her tongue before she pushes another smile onto her lips and raises her eyes to his once more. "What about you? Is Dayton a forever place for you?"

BEAR

Bear listens, brows drawing together ever so slightly at the change in her voice and demeanor, wondering if there was more to the story than she’s telling him. He knows without giving it a second thought that there almost certainly is, but he doesn’t push, instead nodding to show her he’s listening and taking a sip of his beer and snorting a little bit at her question. “No. I don’t know if there’s such thing as a forever place for me, but if there is I know it’s not this,” he answers confidently, spearing a bite of steak on his fork and eating it, making a pleased sound. “So good,” he complements, wiping his mouth.

RYLEIGH

She's not sure why his answer disappoints her. Dayton isn't really one of those places anybody should be settling down in, let alone someone who wants more out of life. From what she's seen, what she's heard... there's a chance Ryleigh won't last a year in Dayton, let alone six months, but to know Bear probably won't be around for long, either... however long that might be? "Out of all of the places you've been, what's been your favorite?" Ryleigh questions then, her smile warming genuinely as he takes a bite of the steak for the first time. His compliment warms her, and she appreciates his enthusiasm - ignoring how that familiar tingle behind her naval only grows when that pleased sound rumbles in his throat.

BEAR

Bear thinks about the question, running through the mental queue of places he’d been since he’d left Alaska. It takes him a moment before he answers, never having really given thought to the places he’d been in terms of liking one over the other....at the time, they’d just been moments, transitory. “For a couple of months in my early twenties, I ended up on an island off the coast of Washington state called Vashon,” he begins, pausing to take a sip of his beer. “It’s small, only about forty square miles, only about 10,000 people,” he adds, cutting his steak now. “I worked in a brewery there for six months...I liked it a lot. It was probably the easiest living I’ve ever had—only worked one job, rented a trailer from a farmer and lived out behind his lot...” he trailed off. “Uncomplicated,” he said, taking another bite of steak.

RYLEIGH

Fascinated by him, Ryleigh leans forward as she cuts into her own steak, able to take a few bites of the meat while listening to him answer her question. She's surprised he does, considering how he'd skipped over her last one. "It sounds beautiful... life being uncomplicated for a while," she sighs wistfully, digging into her potatoes then. "Have you ever considered settling down somewhere? Or do you feel like you'll always constantly be moving?" She rubs her free hand against the top of her thigh out of habit, brushing away an invisible itch against her palm.

BEAR

Bear thinks of Ryleigh in a bakery with icing on her chin and wonders how complicated her life is now, knows that there must be more to what’s going on with her than she’s saying if she doesn’t feel like life’s uncomplicated. “It was,” he agrees when she says life like that sounded beautiful. It had been. He looks over at her, taking a bite of his vegetables before he answers. “I’m not sure,” he says honestly, meeting her eye. “In some ways I’m tired of starting over. In others, not being able to start over sounds awful.”

RYLEIGH

She hums softly, thoughts drifting toward a life where she doesn't have to constantly feel on edge. Worried one wrong move is going to send her hurdling back a hundred feet and completely negate all the progress she's made thus far. An uncomplicated life. Living in Dayton is the most uncomplicated her life has been, if you don't count the sudden surfacing of a sister she hasn't seen in six years and her brother, who's love triangle woes had left Ryleigh's head spinning the moment she'd moved in with him a few weeks ago. "Alright, if you could pick anywhere in the world you'd want to start over and put down roots, to make a home, where do you think that'd be?" She questions next, finishing off her salad after the query as left her lips before she's reaching for her bottle of water to cleanse her palette with.

BEAR

Bear thinks about putting down roots and is surprised when he doesn’t know what to say. He opens his mouth, waiting for an opinion to come out, and....nothing. He takes a sip of the beer for something to do, shaking his head a little as he tries to come up with something. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Not a specific place, but I’d like to live somewhere where it’s cold at least half the year...maybe have a cabin, a little bit of land, something near the water, some kind of rocky beach or a lake...” he trails of, surprised that he’s said this given that he’d never really given it a second thought.

RYLEIGH

He paints a pretty picture. Somewhere cold, a cabin in the middle of nowhere. She can picture him there, in the middle of winter, in the snow and she smiles warmly in response to the image she paints in her head of him. "I can see that for you... it sounds nice." Ryleigh appraises, taking a few more bits of her steak before she's more than ready to set aside the rest of her meal and dig in to the dessert. She's always had a bit of a sweet tooth. "My ultimate dream is to own my own bistro in Paris. I don't know that it will actually ever happen, but it's a nice thought. My back up plan, though, is to find a nice coastal town in Maine or Vermont, and open up a bakery there. I loved winters in New York and there's something magical about eating a warm pastry in the middle of winter with a good cup of coffee, snow falling around you," she sighs wistfully, rubbing her thumb along the side of her plate.

BEAR

Bear smiles a little at her as she talks about how she’d live, totally able to imagine her in what he thinks Paris must be like and also somewhere on a coast. He can’t help but acknowledge, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, that her second-best option sounds a little similar to his. He doesn’t like his mind linger on that though, instead nodding at her. “From what I know of you, both of those fit,” he says before finishing his last bite of steak, sitting back from the table.

RYLEIGH

His words make her smile widen and when he leans back in his chair, she's far too happy that he's managed to eat everything. "So... what did you think?" She motions toward the empty plate, her own nearly empty, but there's still a few bites of steak left, a couple forkfuls of potato and one or two roasted vegetables. "Do you have room for dessert or do you want to hold off for now?" Ryleigh adds, leaning back in her own chair to take a few more sips from her water bottle.

BEAR

“You’re a fantastic cook,” Bear says genuinely, smiling a little as she leans back and his posture matches hers. “I’m full up right now, Meadows, couldn’t take another bite if I tried,” he says, taking a sip of his beer before he places it back down on the table and folds his arms across his chest.

RYLEIGH

Clapping her hands together, his compliment has her beaming so brightly, her cheeks hurt a little from smiling so much around him. "Dessert later then. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Any time you want another home cooked meal, just let me know. I'm your girl," she offers, standing to start clearing the empty dishes. She can store whats left over on the sides for Bear to take home with him, or if he doesn't want to do that, she knows Aiden will eat them.

BEAR

Bear quickly stands to pick up his own plate, gathering that and his silverware and salad bowl and whatever else he can carry. “Not gonna let you do this too,” he says, brushing past her and shooting her a half smile over his shoulder. “Give me you yours, show me to soap and a sponge and I can take it from here.”

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh quickly follows after him, carrying her own set of plates to set them down on the counter next to the sink. “You don’t have to! I can wash them,” she tries to tell him, but has a feeling he isn’t going to take no for an answer on this one. “You wash, I dry?” She suggests a compromise while showing him where all the cleaning supplies are.

BEAR

Bear feels pleased that he’s basically gotten what he wanted, though he can’t think of a single time in his adult life that he’s ever fought anyone to do the dishes. “Deal,” he says, meeting her eye for a beat before he turns on the warm water and squirts soap on the sponge, wetting it before he starts on a plate. He cleans it, eyes going over it once more to be sure, before he passes it to her, not minding the quiet.

RYLEIGH

She usually hates allowing anyone to clean up after her messes, but the compromise she makes keeps her close to him. Something she shouldn’t aim for, but finds she wants to be as close to him as possible. Ryleigh dries the first plate carefully, setting it to the side, waiting for another. She’s chewing on her lower lip as the silence settles around them, contemplating where the evening might take them next.

BEAR

Bear works on his own plate next, scrubbing it in the same methodical way and rinsing before he handed it off to Ryleigh, liking the way that her hands felt cool on his even as he tries to actively ignore it. After a few moments, he fills the silence. “So what did Dayton do before you became the unofficial welcoming committee?” he says tone light and voice a little quieter than before because she’s so close. The question is a joke, rhetorical, but somewhere in the back of his mind Bear knows he’s asking if she does this often.

RYLEIGH

She takes the next plate, drying that one as well, setting it onto the one she’s already dried. His voice breaks the silence, a pleasurable sound she definitely wants to hear more of as she laughs quietly. “I’m not sure, actually? I mean who doesn’t want to be welcomed with a home cooked meal? It’s funny, actually,” she answers, taking the next dish from him to dry that one as well, “about a month ago I actually ran into someone at the grocery store who asked me for advice on a meal to help him get laid. He had a friend he was inviting over and wanted to cook dinner for, so I helped him out together this spaghetti meal. It was probably one of the most fascinating interactions I’ve had with someone.” Ryleigh finishes with fond sigh, reaching for the next dish, but when the remnants of water coats her fingers, she playfully flicks the couple drops in his direction. “I’m sure you’ve received all kinds of welcoming committees, though, with a smile like yours.”

BEAR

For some reason, hearing her talking about helping someone get laid makes Bear laugh before he can stop himself. He grins, shaking his head a little and looking down at her. “So you basically catered someone else’s date?” He asks, looking amused at this. When she flicks water at him, he sticks his hand under the tap and splashes a little at her before starting to scrub one of the bowls. When she mentions his smile, his grin widens and he lets out a little bit of a snort. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounded like a line.”

RYLEIGH

His laugh is even better than his voice, which she didn’t think was at all possible. She wants to hear it again. “Well when you put it that way, yeah.” Ryleigh laughs with him. When he flicks water at her using the tap though, she squeals and holds up the dish in her hand to block whatever he flicks at her. Her mouth drops open, almost surprised he retaliated. “Oh? Is that what you think it sounded like?” The faucet is one of those detachable ones, so while he’s mid scrubbing the bowl, she reaches across to pull it free from the spout and angling it to flick more water at him. Except it’s definitely more of a spray and there’s definitely wet spots on his shirt now. An almost apologetic look dances over her face as she blinks up at him. “Oops?”

BEAR

Bear grins at her agreeing with him, shaking his head a little because he’d expected a fight and hasn’t gotten one which surprises him—why was he always surprised by her? “That’s what I’m certain it sounded like—shit!” He laughs again, reaching for the nozzle in her hand and closing some of the distance between them. He wraps one of his hands around the spout and probably a few of her fingers to block it. “You might’ve just gotten yourself in trouble, Meadows,” he says with a bit of a smirk. “Haven’t you ever heard you should only pick on people your own size?”

RYLEIGH

His hand wraps around the nozzle in her hand, completely encompassing it and a couple of her finger in the process, but she’s far too focused on how the distance between them has definitely lessened and he’s smirking down at her. “I grew up with three siblings in the middle of the country... you think I can’t handle a little trouble, Everett?” She responds in kind, an easy smirk on her own lips, even as she tries to wiggle the nozzle free from his grip. “Are you kidding me? Picking on people my own size isn’t fun, besides... I never pick in anyone. You’re just easy.” Ryleigh teases, closing a bit more of the distance, dishes clearly forgotten for the moment.

BEAR

Bear’s smirk widens as she calls him by his last name and struggles against his grip—he’s definitely not letting up though he’s ready to let go at any moment if it was hurting her. “Oh, so I’m a special target then?” He asked, cocking a brow at her as she moved closer. “Sort of rude, inviting someone over only to pick on them,” he adds, meeting her gaze, impressed by her confidence and the fact that she hadn’t backed down.

RYLEIGH

When his smirk widens, Ryleigh swears everything around her fades as she zeros in on that smirk. Nothing else matters except this moment because he’s teasing her, and she doesn’t feel threatened. Anyone else his size, with his strength, would’ve made her cower and flinch away. Or maybe she’d just found a lot more backbone since she left New York. “You could say that, and I’m not really picking on you. You could easily turn the tables on me,” she points out, motioning to where he still has a firm grip on the nozzle and her hand, water dripping down her arm and over his hand. “Or leave if you’re feeling really put out,” Ryleigh adds, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face as she slips closer, pressing her tiny frame against his own.

BEAR

Bear’s not sure what he expected when he offered to do the dishes, but it for damn sure wasn’t this. He didn’t think the front of his shirt would be damp and he didn’t think that he’d be registering it was damp because he could feel Ryleigh’s body pressing to his and his shirt pressing to his skin in turn. He looks down at her, wondering what the hell was going on...well, the back of his head was wondering that. Most of his mind was on the fact that he wants to know what it would be like to be pressed to her like this without any fabric between them, her skin on his. “I don’t scare easy,” he said, prying the nozzle from her hand with both of his now, eyes still on hers.

RYLEIGH

Honestly, she can’t even say what had possessed her to even start this in the first place. Maybe to see how he’d react to a little spontaneity, maybe to see how he’d react to her taking a little leap of faith regarding the tension between them. She has to tip her head back to look up at him, golden tresses spilling down her back when she does, her gaze heavy on his own. “You don’t seem the type that would,” Ryleigh agrees, and instead of letting her hand drop away, she moves it forward to brush her fingers against the damp material of his shirt.

BEAR

“Seems like you might not be the type either,” Bear says, not sure if he’s even making sense anymore because now she’s touching him, a spot at his abdomen, and his body is tensing under her touch but he’s also leaning into it. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches back and lets go of the nozzle so it retracts back in place, one hand on the counter, the other hovering at his side as he wonders if he should touch her or not.

RYLEIGH

Oh. She’s definitely the type who scares easy, but she’s not scared of him. Ryleigh is surprised he releases the nozzle to put it back, and she instinctively reaches out to shut the water off, but never once takes her gaze from his. His body is tense under her small hand, which lifts away from his abdomen to find the ink on his arm instead. Delicate pads trace what she can see, her body angling toward his enough so her front is against his front. “You don’t scare me.” A gentle shrug, lower lip slipping between her teeth again as her other hand rises to the spot the one on his arm had left previously.

BEAR

Bear watches her and feels her hand on his arm and he’s wondering how, about an hour ago, he was thinking about how the girl was smiley and cute and now she’s touching his arm and now he’s totally lost track of himself. He tries to push the thoughts out of his head, focusing on the fact that he was there for dinner, they don’t really know each other, how the fuck old was she...but then he watched her teeth go against her lip and all thoughts of anything else, all resolve, are absolutely gone. “No?” He asks, raising a brow at her as he moves a hand to hook a finger through her belt loop, holding her to him.

RYLEIGH

Definitely no, Ryleigh thinks, because she’s not scared right now. Especially when he hooks his finger into her belt loop, holding her body against his. She’s very aware of every breath she takes, because each one has her chest moving slightly against his abdomen, which only makes her wish she’d decided on a bra this evening. “No.” She answers plainly, for the first time not thinking about anything other than the fire under her skin. She’s not worried about her scars or how damaged she is, because fuck, she’s so damaged. “Do I scare you?” Ryleigh hears herself ask as she shifts against him, her neck aching from having to look up at him for so long, but it’s worth it.

BEAR

Bear isn’t sure if she scares him or not, he doesn’t even know where to start to answer that question. Because he can feel her chest against him and her body is soft and he’s really thinking now about what it would be like for all of this fucking fabric to be gone. Because he can feel her breathing and she’s looking up at him and he doesn’t know what to do with any of this. He drops his hand, glad he’s able to convince himself that he needs to get the fuck out of there, taking a step backwards to give her some excuse but then his eyes are tripping over her body and he hasn’t even realized he’d said “Fuck it, c’mere,” aloud before he’s hooked a finger back through her belt loop and closed the distance, mouth going hard to hers before he can really even register what he’s doing.

RYLEIGH

There’s something there between them. Some tension buzzing in the air around him and she’s almost certain he’s going to do something, but then he drops his hand and disappointment is sharp and potent. As quickly as it starts to spread and she’s trying to get a handle on her sanity, he’s back, hooking his finger in her belt loop, tugging her sharply and then his mouth is hot and hard against her own. A little whimper crawls into her throat as she rises onto her tip toes in an attempt to get closer to him, to the warmth of his mouth. One of her small hands rises to curl around the back of his thick neck and she’s never felt more tiny than she does now, returning the kiss with fervor and pressing the length of her entire, supple frame flush against him - muscle and strength.

BEAR

Bear hadn’t even let himself think about what he would do if he’s somehow read all of this wrong and she wasn’t into it so when she kisses him back, when she’s putting her hands on him and he’s backing her up against the counter, hunching a little at the shoulders so he can keep his mouth level to hers, tongue pushing into her mouth to stroke over hers as his hands spread open to either side of her waist. He absently realizes how tiny her waist is as he pushes the tips of his fingers under the fabric at her back and sides, grunting a little because her skin is smooth and it feels good under the calluses on his hands.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh wants to touch him everywhere. His mouth is demanding against her own, his hulking frame backing her against the counter and the same flare of heat she’d felt when that same tongue if his flicked against the tip of her finger earlier becomes a raging inferno, there’s no denying she wants him. He tastes of beer and herbs and spices and she’s ravenous, her tongue playing with his own because she wants to drown in the taste of him. She’s so enthralled by his mouth, she misses his hands on her waist, on his calloused fingers grazing her soft skin. This would be the moment she tenses, the moment she drags wandering hands from exploring further, to find the blemished skin beneath the waist of her jeans at her lower back, and further. Ryleigh doesn’t tense, but rather pushes herself even closer until she’s sure he can feel how hard her nipples are against his abdomen.

BEAR

Bear grunts again against her mouth as he feels her against him, feels her nipples against him and the idea of getting her naked is suddenly the absolute only thing on his mind, getting him hard as he slips a hand higher up under her shirt, fingers kneading into the skin at the small of her back. He finds himself almost annoyed at stooping over her so, without breaking the kiss, he moves his hands to her waist again and lifts her onto the counter, pleased that they’re almost level now, one of his hands going to a knee so he can push her legs apart and step between them so they’re close again.

RYLEIGH

Fuck. Ryleigh gasps against his mouth when he lifts her onto the counter without breaking the kiss between them. Her thighs part willingly, allowing him access between them, both of her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders to pull him closer still, as if he can’t get close enough at all. In a moment of need, she nips at his lower lip, curls one of her legs around his waist and arches her his toward his in a way that definitely makes her feel how much he’s enjoying this. Ryleigh whimpers into his mouth, one of her hands shifting into his hair because she wants to explore every inch of him.

BEAR

When she arches against him, Bear’s body takes control and he rolls his hips against hers a little, friction doing wonders on his end on the one hand...on the other, it just makes him realize how badly he wants to be fucking her, how irritating it was to have clothes on when she was making sounds like the one that just came out of her mouth. He smoothes a hand along her body from her back to her abdomen, fingers spreading open against her navel over the fabric covering her before he inched it higher, thumb brushing over her nipple through her shirt, teasing her through the fabric as he kissed her deeply.

RYLEIGH

That friction against her, of him rolling his hips and pressing the tightness of her jeans against her heat, makes her moan and claw at his shoulder, as it’ll convince him to never stop. His entire hand is warm against her, touching her, crawling up her torso until—- “Bear, please,” she moans with a gasp, breaking the kiss because her lungs burn and his thumb is teasing at her nipple, so hard and sensitive to touch. Her once glossed lips are now pink and swollen, her skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink which definitely disappears beneath the high neck collar of her poor excuse for a shirt. Ryleigh dips her head, rolling her hips into his to grind herself against him, brushing her mouth along the scruff of his jaw.

BEAR

He’s normally more measured than this, normally in the mood to tease and take his good ole time, to hold off at first to build the tension. But the tension is already there, has been building since he walked in the door if he’s being honest with himself, and there’s not a single part of him that wants to pretend that delaying being inside of her would make it better. When she says his name, all he can think about is getting her to say it again. He drops a hand to the button of her jeans, flicking it open and undoing the zipper, hand going down the front of the flap to touch her over her underwear, fingers teasing over the fabric for a moment before they’re pressing firmer, rubbing against the layer between his skin and hers in time with the roll of her hips.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh’s fingers tighten their grip on his hair the moment his hand sinks into her jeans. She shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly he’d managed to do just that, thick fingers pressing firm over her panties and she’s no doubt he can feel how wet she is through them. She’s been that way since he first put his mouth on her finger. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her head falling back against the cabinet behind her. Sex is never about her. Her pleasure has never really mattered and she’s always... it’s been so ingrained into her at this point, she almost feels bad she’s not giving him anything in return. Her free hand reaches between the press her palm flush against his own arousal, desperate to make him feel half as good as she feels right now.

BEAR

Bear groans a little when he feels how wet she is. He doesn’t take more than a moment to reach his hand back up and slide it down the front of her underwear, swearing under his breath at how the wetness felt against her skin instead of the fabric that had been in the way before. While he knows what he’s doing, there’s nothing particularly measured or calculated about the way that his fingers work because all he wants to do is touch her, to get her to keep make the sounds she’s been making. He moves his fingers down along her folds, then teases against her clit at the same time she touches him through his jeans and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, free hand working into the hair at the base of her neck to twine it through his fingers relatively tightly.

RYLEIGH

If there was a way to keep him touching her like this forever, she would find it. His fingers are thick and rough as they slide over her bare skin, the contrast of them against her clit sending sparks through her entire body as she trembles beneath his touch. Combined with his fingers slipping tightly into her hair at the base of her neck, and the low sound in his throat, Ryleigh’s dizzy with pleasure. Desperate to touch him, too, she’s much more clumsy in unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, but soon she’s pushing beneath layers of fabric until her tiny hand curls around his cock - skin hot and hard against her palm. She’s throbbing under his touch, aching in a way she can’t ever remember feeling before, wanting him to shift his fingers further, to push them inside of her, to fuck her. Her hand squeezes around him gently, working along the length of him and his clothes in the way only forces another whimper from her. “Bear,” she gasps, his name a plea, but she’s not sure for what, exactly.

BEAR

God, he likes the way she says his name, her breathing scant and her voice filling the kitchen. When she touches him, he feels like he’s firing on all cylinders—the smooth skin of her hand curling around him makes him press his hips harder to the touch. He knows he’s hung, definitely more so than a lot of guys, and he has a fleeting thought about wanting to see her hand—small as it was—wrapped around his cock. But more than that, he wants it inside of her, basically any part of hm inside of her at this point. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking hard enough that he knows he’ll leave a mark just below her ear, at the same time that he slides a finger inside of her, instantly aware of how tight she feels around him as his broad finger fills her up. He works over her for a moment, still kissing at her neck, before he adds a second.

RYLEIGH

Her jeans aren’t offering a lot of room for him to move around, but there’s almost something entirely too sexy about how he doesn’t let that deter him. His mouth falls against her neck, teeth and lips sucking hard enough at the sensitive skin, she can’t quiet her louder moan this time. Crying out for him as her pussy clenches tight around that single, thick finger inside of her. Ryleigh is writhing against his hand, trembling under him, as he slowly adds another finger, stretching her around him, her while her hand stutters along his cock, trying to keep up, but failing miserably. Instead, there’s a heady moment when she swirls her thumb around the head of him, gathering what’s already leaking from him onto her thumb before dragging her hand away from him entirely and popping her thumb past her lips, just to taste him.

BEAR

Bear had thought that he had a decent amount of self control before, but when he feels her thumb slide against the head of his cock, when he watches it go into her mouth, self control be damned. In spite of how badly he doesn’t want to, Bear pulls his fingers out of her and moves to strip her jeans off of her, mind entirely alight with the idea of being inside of her, at what it would feel like to have her grinding against his cock instead of his hand. “You need to take these the fuck off,” he says, voice hoarse and husky as he meets her eye and tugs on the denim at her waist, hands already gravitating back toward her as he slips one past the hem of her shirt, fingers pressing firmly and insistently against her abdomen, tracing the underside of her breast, taking this opportunity to tease her only as it distracts him from the time it’s taking to get her jeans off of her.

RYLEIGH

Her hips chase after his fingers when she removes them from her, a pout finding her mouth as soon as they’re gone. She meets his gaze, her own hooded and glazed with want. If the look in his eyes hadn’t been enough for convince her, the growl in his throat is, a new wave of need soaking her panties. They’re ruined now. They’ve got to be with out insatiably turned on she feels. Ryleigh scrambles to push her jeans from her hips, his fingers teasing at her bare skin so fucking distracting. There’s a bed not thirty feet away, but she can’t be bothered to suggest they move when he’s touching her like this. Soon enough she’s got her jeans almost completely off, struggling with one ankle before fabric thuds heavily to the floor, leaning Ryleigh in a pair of navy blue lace panties soaked through the center and a her top which barely covers anything at all anymore. Ryleigh peels her shirt over her head for good measure... baring her full breasts, peaked with pretty pink nipples aching to be touched. She’s flushed and panting and paying no mind to the fact that she’s just gotten nearly naked with him when that never happens with anyone... not so soon and definitely not without a “no questions” promise.

BEAR

As she pulls her clothing off, Bear moves to kiss her heatedly, mouth hard and insistent against hers as he he reaches back behind him to tug his shirt off over his head because now that he’s seen her breasts, the color of her skin pink and pale at the same time, he wants to feel it against his. He’s built—he’s basically had to be given how much manual labor he’s done in his life, chest broad and hard, tattoos covering the majority of it and arching up to his arms down along the cords of muscle on his back. Once his shirt is pooled on the floor, he leans down and brings his mouth to her clavicle, tongue following the line where the bone protrudes slightly from her skin down to the center of her chest, lips hot as he moves his hands back to her and slides one down along her back underneath her underwear to grab at her ass firmly, squeezing the skin there as he draws her to him.

RYLEIGH

She wants to explore all of him. Every inch of hard, toned skin that’s revealed, drag her tongue along the lines of the ink on his flesh. Such a stark contrast in comparison to her own; a small shooting star on her hip, her Gemini tattoo on her shoulder blade. Her small hands find purchase on his skin, unsure where to start, merely knowing she needs to touch him, as his mouth falls against her skin. Ryleigh, in the throes of what he invokes in her, doesn’t even stiffen as she usually would when his fingers ghost over her lower back to curve against the plush skin of her ass. Both legs are around his waist, her hands falling to help push at the fabric of his jeans, needing them gone. Needing him inside of her.

BEAR

Bear shifts his hips to get his jeans off of him, the denim falling to the floor with a heavy sound thanks to the weight of his keys and wallet. He's wearing boxer briefs, the fabric stretched over the hard curve of his ass, waistband slung low at the v of his waist. They were tight under normal circumstances, even more so now that she has him hard and straining against the elastic fabric. He pulls away from her long enough to pull her panties from her, breathing hitching a little as his fingers register the wetness before he adds them to the pile of clothes on the floor, and then he's kissing her hand, palm of his hand coming to one of her breasts as he teases his fingers across her nipple, admiring the peak and the weight of her in his hand as he pulls her to him by her ass again.

RYLEIGH

They’ll probably laugh at the absurdity of their inability to even make it out of the damn kitchen before they’re naked, but the hunger in his eyes, the way he touches her, Ryleigh is not keen on changing anything about this moment. Her eyes drink him in, his boxer briefs giving everything and nothing away and as her little fingers hook under the waistband and she pushes at the fabric, she has a brief, solid moment of ‘Jesus fuck, he’s not going to fit.’ He’s.... impressive and she’s tiny, but she’s so wet she can feel the slickness between her thighs without even pressing them together. Her heart stutters when he kisses her hand, his fingers dragging over one of her nipples, drawing a deeper, needier whimper from her. She dips her head, lips caressing over one muscled pec then the other as she rolls her hips forward in the same moment he grabs her ass and she call feel the hot, heavy length of his cock teasing the swollen lips of her cunt. It’s euphoric, her body shuddering against his and Jesus Christ she might die here.

BEAR

If he's not inside her soon, he thinks he might literally lose his mind. He normally would ask, normally would know from the time he walked in the door of an apartment or climbed into the backseat of a car that sex was on the table, but right now he feels so turned on, so frustrated that he takes his cock in his hand and lines it up with her opening, teasing the head over her clit and along her folds for a couple of seconds--much shorter than he normally would, but he doesn't have restraint in him now--before he pushes inside her and groans louder than he has since he first put his hands on her. She's impossibly tight, the sensation of being fully surrounded by hot, wet velvet the only thing he can focus on for a moment even as his eyes come up to hers.

RYLEIGH

She wants more of that sound, from more of him, and she knows she can’t possibly get any closer than she already is. He pushes into her and she can feel every solid inch, her slick walls drawing tighter around him because he’s... and she’s.... Ryleigh’s small hands lift to clutch at his broad shoulders, clinging to him as he meets her gaze and she swears she could come undone from that look alone. She shifts a little once she feels comfortable enough, even though there’s that slight pressure from how big he is in comparison to her small body. “Please, Bear... I want to feel you,” she whimpers, leaning into him to kiss his neck, his shoulders, nipping at his Adam’s apple, all while still clinging to him and practically dripping onto his cock since she’s only growing that much more desperate for him.

BEAR

Hearing her say his name, the way the words sounded mixed with the plea makes him want to tease her so she'll do it more, makes him want her to beg him...but he can't because he wants it just as much. So he rolls his body to hers, pulling out almost entirely before pushing himself back in deeper than before, somehow even harder than he'd been when he'd first entered her. One of his hands goes back up into her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands firmly as holds her in place to the counter, mouth hot as he sucks hard at a spot where her neck and shoulder meet, breaths coming ragged through his nose.

RYLEIGH

Her eyes flutter as the pleasure rockets through her, the sensation of his skin against hers, of his length moving inside of her nearly enough to make her see stars. Is that even possible? Slender fingers curl into his shoulders, blunt nails biting into thick muscle and there’s a chance he doesn’t even feel it, but she clings heavily to him as nonsensical little moans and whimpers begin pouring out of her. One hand dives into her hair again, holding on so firmly her pussy pulses around him because she likes it, likes that he’s not letting her writhe like she wants to. He’s holding her there, fucking into her so slowly she thinks she might go insane from desire, from a hunger so profound she can’t stop trembling against him. She arches her back when his mouth falls back to her skin, her nails dragging down his bicep in response before her small hand clings to him there, moaning his name, pleading for more.

BEAR

Bear likes that Ryleigh is vocal, likes that her hands are soft and her skin is soft and God, literally every part of her his hand finds makes him want to find another place, wants to test if every inch of her feels as good as the last. He likes that he can feel her tight around the diameter of his cock, squeezing him hard as he fucks her, no matter if he's pushing into her shallowly or angling his hips up so the tip strokes over her g spot. His teeth leave a pattern of shallow marks in their wake, he's nipping at her but not hard enough to bruise, just enough so she can feel it and he can muffle the groans that are falling past his lips faster than he can try to stop them.

RYLEIGH

This is torture. Every moment wrapped around him is torture in the purest, most pleasurable form, and it's glorious. She's intoxicated - is this why people crave it so much? - by the feel of him, by how he can keep her on the edge with his shallow thrusts and then make her moan loudly enough she's sure the neighbors can hear her every time the tip of his cock nudges against that sensitive spot inside of her. Goosebumps kiss her skin under his lips, her fingers traipsing over his skin, gripping and curving, exploring as he fucks her on the kitchen counter. They're making a mess of the surface, too, because she can feel how slick she is, how there must be a fucking spot on the counter now because of it, but none of that matters as she bucks tries to buck toward him, his hard grip keeping her from doing so. "Do you want me to come, Bear?" She whimpers breathlessly, her sweet voice curling around the words with ease. She'll be embarrassed about them later, but right now? She's in the moment and he feels so good inside of her. "Do you want me to come on your cock?" Then her lower lip is between her teeth again, attempting to stifle another moan as he nudges against her g-spot once more, her thighs trembling as she teeters on the edge, so fucking close.

BEAR

Bear’s pretty sure he’s never wanted to make someone come more in his life. He’s pretty sure that this is the first time in a long time he’s fucked someone sober, actually truly paid attention to what his body was doing aside from the most basic actions. He pulls back to look at her, hand moving from her hair to her jaw, thumb against her chin and fingers along the angle leading to her neck—his touch isn’t firm though, there’s only enough pressure to tilt her head so she has basically no choice but to meet his eye. “I want you...” he began, slowing his strokes but easing up on how he was holding her so she could move against him freely, hand on her ass still guiding her in place, “to come all over my cock,” he says, the words punctuating another stroke.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh's breath stutters when his hand shifts, his thumb a heavy presence on her chin, his fingers long enough to spread down the angle of her neck. All he has to do is shift his hand a little lower, wrap his fingers around her neck and-- she flutters around him again, hoping he can feel exactly what his touch is doing to her and she dips her head instead, soft, still kiss swollen, pink lips wrapping around his thumb as she stares right into those dark eyes. His strokes slow, and he punctates his statement with another broad, slow stroke, making her eyes roll back for half a second. Ryleigh whines, canting her hips when she's given the freedom, fucking herself on his cock with a much faster pace than he'd been using while still trying to savor how he feels inside of her. One of her hands falls away from his body to sink between her quivering thighs, skin slick with her arousal, fingers finding her aching little clit with ease to circle the sensitive bundle. "Please? Please can I?" Ryleigh pleads with a breathy moan in her sugary sweet cadence, eyelids fluttering, gaze heavy on his. He's already said he wants it. She wants him to give her the permission to do it.

BEAR

When Bear feels her lips wrap around his thumb, all he can do his grunt a long sigh, the word that comes out his mouth guttural and almost hoarse. “Fuckkk,” he groans, the word a long and drawn out exhale as he lets his eyes fall over her body. He lets her move against him, feeling his cock swell at the combination of the sounds she was making, the rhythm of her body against his, how her tight body looked where they were connected. He watches her work her hand over her clit for a moment before he moved it out of the way moving his fingers to the spot instead so he can circle the spot instead, fingers moving over her smoothly from her wetness in spite of how rough they were, wanting to be the sole reason she got off. Bear nods at her, leaning down to kiss her briefly before catching her lower lip between his teeth and pulling back. “Come,” he said in a tone that would’ve sound like a command but was in fact a plea because she feels so good around him and he wants to watch her fall apart.

RYLEIGH

His reaction to her, as if he actually enjoys seeing her like this - desperate to come on his cock like it's the only thing in the world she needs to be doing - gives her a feeling of euphoria and one she rides as she continues to circle her fingers around her clit. Before she can comprehend anything else, he's pushing her own hand away and replacing the pressure with his heavy thumb, causing her to jerk against him, her walls fluttering as if doing so will convince him to find his own release. He kisses her briefly and Ryleigh's head spins deliciously, another moaning whimper caught in her throat as he bites her lower lip and the commands... pleads? ... for her to come. She shudders heavily, her hands gripping his arms as she follows through a minute later, shattering around his cock, her walls pulsing rhythmically with the aftermath of her pleasure, his name a sharp cry of pleasure rolling off her tongue as her head drops back against the cabinet once more and she succumbs to the tremors claiming her overwrought frame.

BEAR

Bear strokes her through her orgasm, thumb and cock keeping an even, fluid pace against her as he strokes in and out of her. As he feels her tighten somehow even more, he feels a familiar tug at the base of his gut, warmth beginning to pool there as he hitches his hips harder to hers, moving deeper now as he slides in deep, looking down between their bodies as he watches her slide all the way to the base of his cock and then back out again, then again, then again. His muscles are taut from his legs up through his chest, the hand on her face moving to tangle in her hair again as the other grips hard at her ass, fingertips pressing roughly into the supple skin there as he continues to work her over. He groans a little at the feeling of her skin under his hands and it’s not long before his husky voice fills the kitchen. “Fuck, I’m gonna come...”

RYLEIGH

Shuddering through the aftermath of her orgasm, so sensitive as he continues to fuck into her, she's torn between wanting to close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of him or watch him as he continues to enjoy the feeling of her. Watching him watching her, watching them as he sinks into her all the way to the base, only to pull out again, pushes her toward the verge of another orgasm so soon after her first one. She's almost too sensitive, at this point, but he feels incredible and when he simultaneously tangles his fingers in her hair and grips her ass again, an aftershock of need leaves her whimpering for him. "Do it," she encourages, voice breathy and almost needy as her arm wraps around his neck and she pulls him even closer, soft against hard. "Come inside me, Bear... please? Let me feel how good I make you feel," she whispers, brushing her mouth against his jaw, savoring the scratch of his beard against her skin, before she kisses him. As deep and hard as their initial kiss, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip.

BEAR

Knuckles white around where Bear has her hair in a fist, he’s holding onto her firmly but not pulling aside from a little tug at the root, fingers moving over her scalp as he kisses her back, moving against her hard a couple more times before he tips his forward against hers, breaking the kiss. He moves a hand to her breast, palming it and taking the weight of it in his hand as he reaches the edge of his resolve and topples over it, breathing scant as he makes a sound like he’s been hit in the gut, a sharp inhale before he’s mumbling, “Oh fuck, goddamnit, Ryleigh,” and he’s pushed deep inside of her, words, totally gone, feeling her contracting around him still from her orgasm as he comes hard with a groan that reverberates off of the counters and floor, subconsciously realizing that her neighbors might have heard that one.

RYLEIGH

He's overpowering and she's succumbs to every second he spends inside of her. To his hand on her breast, his fingers tugging sharply on her hair encouraging the goosebumps to kiss her skin even more. Ryleigh trembles heavily and swears she feels another, much smaller, orgasm claim her as he comes inside of her. He pushes deep, stills and her arms wrap tight around his shoulders as he groans loudly, the sound echoing in her ears and filling the space of the apartment. Her own breathing is heavy, a fine sheen of sweat coating her skin and she can't stop herself from peppering kisses against his jaw, the side of his face as one of her hands slips up into his hair. Through the haze of lust, this primal need she'd had, she wonders what he'll think of her now. Whether he'll still--- she hadn't meant for this to happen, but there's something about him, something she hadn't been able to ignore. Challenging him probably hadn't been the smartest idea, but god, she doesn't regret it. Regret this. She trembles against him, a chill settling over her body as the cool air of the apartment is finally noticed around them.

BEAR

It’s like coming up for air after being deep underwater when Bear finally comes back to himself. He’s been leaning against her, letting her body and the counter prop him up as his knees had almost buckled when he came. His mind had gone totally bland, as it often did, brain offline to everything except how fucking good everything feels. He stands there like that for a few moments, aware of the sound of his breathing, of her breathing, the spots where their bodies touch that are damp from exertion...and then he realizes he should probably pull back a little so he does, hand in her hair moving over his back as he pulls back a little. Bear flashes her a smile, the expression much less guarded than before, reservation from before almost totally dissipated because he’s loose now and the good afterglow hormones flowing through him have him almost relaxed, more mellow than he’s been in a week. He lets out a short laugh as he meets her eye, shaking his head a little. “Is this part of the Dayton welcome too?” He asked, voice still husky.

RYLEIGH

He pulls back a little and her arms grow slack around him, her hands shifting to drift down over his skin, fingertips tracing the ink on his flesh as her eyes zero in on the ink. Able to really appreciate it now because she's not in some haze induced need for him to fuck her senseless. When her eyes shift back to his face, he's relaxed, that furrow in his brown smooth, and she smiles warmly. She'd done that. Or helped, at the very least, and it makes her proud she's able to have some kind of affect on him. His question pulls a laugh from her, the huskiness in his voice making her stomach clench and her body tight where she's still wrapped around him, because he might've pulled back, but he hasn't slipped out of her, yet. "Not even close. I'm not going to lie and say I haven't had my fair share of experiences in Dayton, but this isn't... you're different." Ryleigh answers with a small shrug, a pink hue staining her cheeks, but this time, from mild embarrassment with herself and not from the pleasure he'd stoked within her.

BEAR

When he feels her clench around him again, he swears quietly under his breath and shifts to slip from her, loosing a short laugh because he’s so sensitive he can barely stand it. He meets her eye again, a line forming along the center of his forehead as his brows pull together slightly. He’s not sure what he thinks of that. He looks her over again, smoothing one of his hands over her thigh, smacking the outside of it lightly before he turns his back to her and picks up his boxer briefs, tugging them back on wordlessly before picking up his phone from the counter and checking the time just for something to do that’s not talking. “Getting late,” He mumbles, not turning back around as he reaches for his jeans.

RYLEIGH

There's that crease again, appearing as quickly as it'd slipped away. She wants to reach for it, to smooth it away, but as quickly as the thought appears to her, he's slipping away, sliding out of her, leaving her empty. Ryleigh has to shut her thighs even as his hand slaps lightly against her skin in order to not be completely obscene because she's sure the combination of her slick and his cum leaking onto the counter would do very little for her sanity right now. Ryleigh watches him turn from her, reach for his boxer briefs and slide them on. Was it late? She'd lost track of time and she doesn't really care how late it is. He reaches for his jeans and sure, Ryleigh could do what she always does. Let him leave, clean up their mess, take a shower and hope the water washes away her tears as she's weighed down by every moment in her life which forces every insecurity to the forefront of her mind. Reminding her why she isn't important, why she's never going to be important. She's not the girl people stick around for; that's just her luck and somewhere along the way, she's learned to accept it. This, though? Watching him reach for his jeans is a kick to her gut she doesn't expect. She feels vulnerable and naked, a dull ache in her lower back, her thighs itching. Ryleigh slips from the counter and makes a split second decision to grab his shirt instead of her own. Easing it over her head, the fabric swallows her small frame, but shields her body down to her thighs, hiding away how damaged she actually is. "You offered me a ride after dinner... does that still stand or is this the part where you pretend this didn't happen with some bullshit excuse like you being too old for me?" Her arms wrap around her body as she leans back against the counter, eyes on his back.(edited)

BEAR

Bear’s surprised by her reaction. Genuinely, truly surprised. He was used to ‘cool girls,’ girls who would go with the flow and nod along, disinterested and detached and happy to let him fuck them and go. That’s what it had been like on the road, that’s what it had been like in Homer, and aside from a 3 month relationship he had his senior year of high school, it’s what it had been like the entirety of his life. He wasn’t used to being held accountable, for anything other than saying the cursory ‘I’ll text you’ to a girl who knew he definitely would not be texting her but she didn’t care. He would get them off, they would get him off, it was an even exchange. Case closed, no hard feelings. And now this. He turned to look at Ryleigh over his shoulder, surprised to see her in his shirt, eyes on the spot where the hem brushed her thighs, noting the color difference between the dark shirt and the color of her skin, like cream or milk or something equally stupid and pseudo poetic. She’s challenging him. Bear doesn’t know what to do with that. He debates making a joke about having already been for a ride but it seemed mean and he knew he didn’t truly mean it. He’s quiet for a beat, maybe a moment too long, just looking at her over his shoulder before he moves his hands to his fly, turning around and buttoning it as he speaks. “Pants and shoes with some kind of hard toe,” he says, jerking his head toward where he guesses her room is.

RYLEIGH

Ryleigh half expects him to say something mean, but she also doesn't believe he will. Not to her, at least, because that's not the vibe she's gotten from him this entire time. Not from their first meeting, or their second, and yeah, maybe it was unprecedented to fuck him so soon, but she's also been the kind of person who's blown a guy in a public bathroom because she could. Because she was good at it. So when he nods toward her bedroom and finally speaks, it takes her a minute to realize what he's saying. Her entire face lights up, though she tries to squash it as she nods, stoops to grab her clothes from the floor and shuffles through the apartment to he bedroom where her suitcase rests. There's a moment she debates cleaning herself up down there, especially because she's a little sore from being stretched so around him. Ryleigh shivers at the thought, removes his shirt to pull on a pair of clean panties, black jeans, a nude bra and a white t-shirt. A black denim jacket is eased on before she's slides her socked feet into a pair of pink combat boots she'd bought in a whim when she first moved to Dayton. She thinks the toe is hard enough at least. His shirt slung over her arm, she's finishing up the braid she'd started on her hair when she finally joins him. "Here," she offers, holding the shirt out to him, which she hopes smells like her when he slips it over his head.

#( ryleigh+bear.003 )#( discord thread. )#laid-bear

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dxmedstudent · 5 years

Text

Ask me “when are you getting married?” one more time and I swear...

I managed to take a quick trip Back Home to the Old Country this summer for a family event, and it was lovely to catch up with some of my relatives. What’s not lovely is being cornered and lectured on the absolute necessity of getting married and having babies ASAP. It’s one thing to speak in vaguely polite blessing terms; Im not offended when relatives say something like “Next time we meet, I hope it’s a happy event, maybe a wedding *wink*”. I expect a certain level of people wishing vaguely positive things on us, and as the oldest daughter and oldest female in my cousin group, well, it tends to fall on me.

But several of my relatives really went overboard this time. No, I don’t need you to find me someone, you really don’t have to muse on whether I’m looking or you have to do it for me. None of these people ever stop to consider what I want in a partner, anyway, they just look to see if they have any single 30- something family friends they can palm off on someone. No, I don’t want your racist commentary; you don’t get to choose who I date. No, I don’t need you to lecture me on my biological clock, I’m a bloody doctor with a far better understanding of how my ovaries work, and how little time I might have left (see all my posts regarding thyroids and fertility). I don’t need a reminder, and yet people seem to think that I’m absolutely thick and need this spelled out every time they run into me, as if I’m incapable of making my own thoughts and decisions about my life. The older I get, the longer and more insistent these talks get. Some of my relatives can’t just say “Hi, lovely to see you, great party we’re having”, they have to delve into my life and give unsolicited orders that it’s about time I got married.

Like, they have no idea what is going on in my life. What if I’ve just broken up with someone? Maybe I’m in a relationship but things aren’t working out? They have no idea of the stress I went through with my thyroid. They act like getting married is just something you can click your fingers and make happen, rather than a decision you make as a couple if you find somene who also wants the same things and is compatible with you. That’s not always easy to do; it’s not about trying hard enough, there are a lot of factors that influence whether you find someone you can make it work with. I’ve been dealing with this since I was a teenager; it’s just gotten worse after I graduated, and I’m just getting tired of it.

I’d like to have a best friend and partner in life; someone I can enjoy spending my time with and support wholeheartedly through whatever life brings. Part of me wishes I was more rebellious, but I’m not. Deep down I’m a sap who wants to love and be loved deeply. But soulmates don’t grow on trees, and meaningful relationships take time and patience and a lot of luck. The more I date, the more I realise the magnitude of what finding a life partner means; it’s a big undertaking that you have to take your time over. You really need to get to know people in order to know that you can both be a part of each other’s lives to such an intimate extent. So quit trying to get me to rush things as if marriage is about cornering any old man who wants kids and a cleaner who’s willing to sleep with them; I’m aiming for something more genuine than that. And I won’t stop until I find something genuine and heartfelt. The thing is, these people will never let up unless you get married. Like, I have an older unmarried aunt who still gets hassled regarding not being married, and it’s just not fair. What gives relatives the right to think they can hassle her or me about why we aren’t married?! They really shouldn’t assume that people want (or need) to get married or have kids, but they also need to learn that it’s none of their damn business what someone is getting up to in their personal life, and whether they get married.They really have no clue what’s going on in other people’s lives. The funny thing is that if I were to get married, I know that they’d probably have a lot of negative opinions on whoever I ended up with, because these particular relatives are always pretty critical. Whoever I end up with will be too foreign, too tall or too short, too thin or too fat. Too poor or too plain. And that’s why they’ll never hear a thing about my love life. They have no right to an opinion on who I date, and if I settle down with someone, their opinion on that person won’t matter in the slightest.

#personal #my life

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dust2dust34 · 5 years

Note

"You wouldn't dare"

(Olicity, post-7x13; sequel to “give me something (to hold on to)”)

(read on AO3)

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? Haven’t we been here before, Oliver, haven’t wealready visited this particular arena?” Felicity wiggled the electric razorwhere she held it over the railing of the balcony. He took a step closer andshe widened her eyes threateningly. “I’ll do it.”

“This is insane.”

She went very still. “Are you calling me insane?”

“No, no, of course not.” Oliver held up a placating hand,but when that got him nothing, he raised both. “I’m just saying… that this…”

Okay, maybe he was calling her insane.

When the words wouldn’t come, he just waved at her. His wifewas a sight to behold. Her hair was a riotous mess of sex-slash-bed hair, allof it topping off a thinning t-shirt with a cat on a laptop on the front and brightorange panties. And that was it. Thank god it wasn’t cold out. Not that shewould feel it. Her inner temperature had done a complete one-eighty sincegetting pregnant - where before she was always seeking out his body heat for warmth,now she was her own personal sauna. They’d tossed the comforter in the closetweeks ago.

And now apparently she had a new penchant for rolling out ofbed and launching into the bathroom where he’d been about to shave his head tosteal his razor. He’d barely caught a flash of color before she’d snatched the damnthing out of his hand and took off.

He tried another tactic.

“You’re going to hit someone if you drop that,” Oliver said.She faltered and Oliver stole the moment to take another step towards her. “Idon’t think we need potential murder-by-flying-electric-razor on top of everythingelse right now, do we?”

Felicity stared at him for a beat, her face unreadable. Fora second he wondered if he’d taken it too far before her lips quirked. With aroll of her eyes, she pulled the razor back from its potential doom. “It mightbe worth it, if it got you to stop shaving your head every two weeks.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “It’s bothering you enough to riskcracking someone’s skull?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Felicity let out a loudsigh and looked down at herself. She pursed her lips, like she hadn’t realizedwhat she was wearing. Or doing. “Okay,I might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little?” Oliver asked, a smile playing on his lips. Itfelt safe enough to come closer. She didn’t throw the razor off the balcony,which was a good sign. When he reached her, Oliver smoothed his hands over hershoulders, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I told you why I’ve been shavingmy head.”

“I know,” she replied, bouncing a bit. There was a slightwhine in her voice that had him huffing out a chuckle. “And I understand, I do.But also, like… Oliver, the hormones this tiny little fruit-sized creature isshoveling through my body right now are literally driving me crazy, and I just…”Felicity lifted her free hand up to his head and made a clawing gesture where hairshould be. “I really miss grabbing itand touching it and how it feels onmy thighs and stomach and, god, when you do that thing where you put your head righthere…” She touched her neck as her lids grew heavy. “And you’re all sweaty andyou’re inside me and… and… and I’m just insanely horny all the time now andyour hair was so sexy and I just miss it, okay? Is that so bad? Am I bad personfor wanting that? Oh god, I am, aren’t I? I am. You have honest, legitimate, psychologicalreasons for keeping your hair short right now and I’m over here making you feelguilty because my libido is out of control! Okay, hearing all of that out loud,I might definitely be insane.”

Oliver laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re insane.” He kissedher. “I think you’re amazing. And incredible. And sweet. And sexy…”

He kissed her again, running his tongue over her lips. She openedfor him on a moan. Felicity pushed up onto her toes, winding her arm around hisneck as she deepened the kiss. Her passion swept him up and with a contentsigh, Oliver fell into her with abandon. William had been gone for almost amonth now and Oliver missed him with a fierceness he couldn’t begin to describe…But the ability to kiss his half-naked pregnant wife without worrying whethertheir son was going to walk in any second was definitely something he enjoyed.

The kiss quickly heated up, especially when Felicity archedher back and pressed her breasts into his chest, her hardening nipples evident eventhrough his sweater.

“I do miss you grabbing it,” Oliver admitted breathlessly,his lips barely leaving hers. She whimpered in agreement. “Pulling… and tugging…”

Felicity lifted a leg to wind around his. “Okay, now you’rejust being mean.”

He chuckled and pulled back to look at her. Her lips wereswollen, eyes glossy with need, her skin flushed.

Stunning.

Oliver kissed the tip of her nose before capturing her lipsonce more.

“I could try,” he offered.

“Yeah?” Felicity blinked and fell back to her normal height.“But I don’t want to push you into it. I realize that’s kind of what I’m doingand I don’t want to do that. Ignore me if I’m doing that. No, yell at me. Justyell at me right now. I’m not trying to make you feel bad for shaving.” At hisraised eyebrow, she added, “I’m serious, just yell at me, Oliver. Pregnancy ismaking my brain wonky. Well, wonkier.”

“No, I know.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “ButI think it might be good. It’s been months and… One step at a time. Right?”

Felicity smiled. “Right.”

“But I can’t start now.”

Her face fell. “Why?”

Oliver laughed when she tried to school her features and utterlyfailed. “Well, you sort of already started for me earlier…” He turned his headto show where a thick strip of hair had already been razed off.

“Oh. I did that?”

“You did that.”

“Oops. Well, I guess I’ll have to find a way to make it upto you then, now won’t I? Or me, rather. Or… us? I’m not sure who won here. Orif there is a winner. Is there a winner?”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “I think we both won.”

“Both. Yes. I like that.” Felicity hummed and kissed himagain. “Both is good. We should go back inside and… collect our winnings…”

Oliver would have laughed if she hadn’t just intensified thekiss, effectively erasing any thought from his brain.

“Yeah,” he managed. “We should… do that…”

And they did. :)

The End

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse (and “coffee” feeds me).

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #oliver queen #felicity smoak #arrow #arrow season 7 #fanfiction #my fics #my fics: season 7 #just needed some fucking FLUFF IN MY LIFE #all i'm seeing are doomsday things about the flash-forwards #and i'm like 'nah not today'#so this happened #anonymous #bre answers

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tespuco · 5 years

Text

PotC Liveblog: Curse of the Black Pearl

CotBP is one of my ‘forever films’ for sure - every time I rewatch it I not only feel the same sense of wonder and delight as the first time but invariably discover new things to love and squee over as well.

I would love to learn more about Elizabeth as a child: this lonely, solemn girl who feels something perverse in her thrill at pirate stories and gallows humor, yet who gravely takes on the duty of looking after young William Turner because she wants to be good, too. (@dollsome-does-tumblr‘s Elizabeth-centric, post-CotBP fic Shrouded Heart explores this ambivalence in her self-concept with heart-wrenching emotional realism)

Wow, Will was doomed from the start, wasn’t he? I would be too if I were a 12-year old piece of half-drowned human driftwood waking up to a miniature guardian angel who softly murmurs, “I’m watching over you” before I drift back into unconsciousness

Framing Elizabeth’s memory of seeing the Black Pearl and meeting Will as a dream, one that impels her to put on the medallion, suggests fate or some other supernatural influence at work - a nifty way for writers to sidestep accusations of Contrived Coincidences and call it Destiny instead!

Keira Knightley is so beautiful hELP

Awww, Will is so proud of his handiwork! It’s interesting because the film puts a fair amount of emphasis on it early on, his skill and pride in not just wielding swords but forging them - only to tell us later that he’s really a pirate by blood and at heart. I like it when fics like fried_flamingo & salr323′s At World’s End: Redux lean into Will’s identity as a blacksmith and extrapolate from it an affinity for land/earth/balance/creation as opposed to the sea’s wild potential for destruction. (He lost his father to the sea and to piracy; he never learned to love either.)

My god everyone’s layered in buttoned-up and corseted finery in the fucking TROPICS no wonder Elizabeth passed out (ngl despite the ‘Caribbean’ in the title and visiting the Disney ride in New Orleans Square, I remember stupidly assuming Port Royal was part of England, not Jamaica; at 9 yrs old my geography was shit and I had yet to learn what imperialism was ok)

“A ship with black sails that’s crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out.” shiver me timbers now that’s how you tell a ghost story

“If he were telling the truth, he wouldn’t have told us” has the same antimonious energy as Winnie-the-Pooh going, “Well, it’s a good thing I noticed it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen it”

This is definitely tmi but in retrospect the rescue scene played a formative part in my (bi)sexual awakening: for a long time my go-to pubescent fantasies involved near-drownings followed by hypersexualized resuscitation attempts and frantic uncomfortable sex on wet rocks in damp subterranean caves

Omg I just realized Elizabeth’s scene with Jack on the docks mirrors the one she had on deck Will in the flashback: a (wo)man overboard recovered, rescuer hovering over a supine body and fingering the pirate medallion around his/her neck, love at first sight

“One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness.” “Though it seems enough to condemn him.” Basically “no good deed goes unpunished” but with style

16 years later and the swordfight between Jack and Will holds up as an iconic example of swashbuckling fight choreo. I also love how the exchange establishes the Jack/Will dynamic: the former as a kind of ironic mentor (“Excellent form. But how’s your footwork?”), the latter as an unwilling pupil who nevertheless mostly plays along

“I practice with them three hours a day.” “You need to find yourself a girl, mate.” Raunchy Shakespearean-grade comedy at its finest (along with “This sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga…What do you think?” “It’ll linger.”)

“This shot is not meant for you.” I love the hints we get of Jack’s darker side: he keeps his bitterness close and his grudges closer; for 10 years he saved that bullet for one man, refusing to expend it in any number of life-threatening situations in the interim; he drawls, “Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers,” like a witch uttering a curse. A dishonest man, methinks, would not feel the stab of betrayal so deeply.

The running joke of Will not getting recognized for his skills and earnest efforts is what makes Norrington’s parting words to him at the end so satisfying: “This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life.” (NORRINGTON KNEW IT WAS HIM ALONG BUT WAS TOO JEALOUS TO EVER PRAISE HIM TO HIS FACE that petty little shit lmao)

I remember looking up the definition of ‘acquiesce’ after watching CotBP as a kid, so Barbossa had a direct hand in expanding my 9-year old vocabulary.

Competent, hyper-focused!Jack at the wheel with an unholy gleam in his eye as he gets drenched in a torrential downpour is my kind of Byronic hero

I prefer Jack Sparrow’s backstory to remain a loose collection of rumors and half-truths jumbled together even in his own memory, but I DO want to know how Jack and Gibbs met, how the former earned the latter’s (mostly) steadfast loyalty. I want to eavesdrop on all the inebriated conversational musings they’ve shared over a bottle of rum, whether topside on the decks of a ship not the Pearl or shouted above/muttered below the ruckus of a Tortuga tavern.

I’d also read/watch a prequel about the mutiny. “He plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was.” WHO HURT YOU JACK

Well obviously Barbossa did, but I still have so many questions! How did a younger, more trusting Jack earn the ire of his first mate and crew, to the point where they’d stage a mutiny? Then again, to hear Gibbs tell it, Barbossa simply appealed to Jack’s sense of fairness; perhaps in their unadulterated greed they saw Jack’s honest streak as a vulnerability to exploit? Or was it something in Jack’s manner of captaincy that fomented discontent? Idk, I can’t tell based on the way the crew jeers at “Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow?” whether their antipathy smacks more of derision or vitriol.

“Mr. Gibbs? …Jack? Jack Sparrow?” Elizabeth must be SO confused by these blasts from her distant and more recent past: who knows when Gibbs left Norrington’s employ, but the last time she saw Jack he had her in chains and at gunpoint, and now apparently he’s conspiring with Will??

I’ve always been kind of baffled by the cabin scene between Elizabeth and Will. What is she apologizing for? Taking the medallion and not telling him? Or for telling him and making him realize his father was a pirate?

Also her tearful, “Because I was afraid that you were a pirate. That would have been awful” is the biggest, bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one. She took an interest in him BECAUSE she thought he was a pirate (although I do think young Elizabeth had been afraid FOR him, after Gibbs’ pantomime of the hangman’s noose)

“daft like Jack” should be my Jack/Elizabeth/Will OT3 tag

Ah, back when PotC incorporated visual gags to spice up their action sequences instead of building the equivalent of a Rube-Goldberg machine around a single, unfunny gag. Compare: Gibbs’ canteen making its unlikely way from the Interceptor to the Pearl and back as an accompaniment to the battle and Jack’s breakout from his cell VS the overextended Tortuga sequence in DMC where Jack weaves in and out of a brawl to no apparent purpose except to try on different hats and then exit the tavern.

“Though it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don’t it? …So I’ll be having that dress back before you go.” Barbossa is despicable and Geoffrey Rush delivers his lines with such RELISH

I will squee over the island scene & its deleted segments at length in a separate post so for now I’ll just say: Elizabeth is obviously a huge Jack Sparrow stan and she’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding it

Listen it’s easy to overlook Norrington’s sense of duty and decency in the face of the stick up his butt and his bouts of extreme pettiness. But the fact is that Jack’s attempt to manipulate and appeal to his ambition fails. Because the Commodore is no Barbossa - he’s a fine man who serves others, not only himself; who cares whether a woman’s acceptance of his proposal is less than sincere; who wouldn’t have risked his men ambushing the Pearl’s crew had he known about the curse (last two courtesy of the deleted scenes on the Dauntless).

Now that I’m paying closer attention I’m just blown away by the careful consideration in Jack’s plans. He’s playing both sides to further his own goal of enacting revenge at minimal risk to himself, but he looks after the unwitting parties he involves in the process, too: while the Royal Navy occupies the undead pirates from the safety of their long range cannons, Jack can intervene to save Will, use him to break the curse, and kill Barbossa. All the good guys win! (He couldn’t have foreseen the Trojan Horse or the en masse submarine attack; nor Norrington’s pettiness in defying Jack’s instructions to man cannons that would’ve blown the undead into smithereens.)

Exhibit B: “Now, to be quite honest with you, there’s still a slight risk for those aboard the Dauntless, which includes the future Mrs. Commodore.” Disregard his insouciant delivery here, and you get Jack telling the whole, unvarnished truth!!! “What do you have to lose?” he asks Norrington, who brushes him off: “Nothing I’d lament being rid of.” It’s JACK who reminds him that for all their precautions, the ambush might put Elizabeth in danger. Jack knows about the curse, and after being marooned on an island with her, he knows Elizabeth will do whatever’s necessary to save Will. So he finds a way to ensure not only that she won’t interfere, but that she’ll be kept safe from harm!! I’ll never be over it

And Murtogg’s “You think he wasn’t telling the truth?” line is such a great callback to their early sketch as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern on the docks of Port Royal. These dimwits happen to know Jack does tell the truth, expecting no one to believe him. His own exhortations on the subject notwithstanding, Jack’s real trickery lies in rarely telling the whole truth, letting people make their own assumptions, and giving them enough rope by which to hang themselves.

Governor Swann is such a darling, the ultimate doting father. It’s easy to assume he doesn’t get Elizabeth at all, but he’s no idiot. He rightly suspects she only agreed to marry Norrington to save Will, and while he’s not above nudging her in that direction (“I believe you made a very good decision today. Couldn’t be more proud of you.”), he’s also not about to let his only daughter bargain away her happiness for the sake of his OTP. (And his face of exasperated affection at Jack’s hanging, when he realizes she only pretended to faint as a diversion! Notice the lack of surprise in his expression: that’s the face of a father who is all too used to her Pulling This Kind of Shit)

Jack keeps popping up like a bad penny and both Norrington and Barbossa are so appalled every time lol

The sequence where Will breaks the curse and Jack shoots Barbossa and Elizabeth jerks like she’s the one who was shot is just - *chef’s kiss* the CHOREOGRAPHY! the CAMERAWORK! the EDITING!

“I feel…cold.” *a single apple rolls out of Barbossa’s dead hands* Can you believe a summer blockbuster movie invented poetic justice tell your English professors

“If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it.” Ugh Will is sooo not my type but he’s so DASHING and GOOD no wonder Elizabeth covets him. What a hero

“My place is between you and Jack.” Ohhh you know what I would love to track the main characters’ alignment arcs throughout the series. Here Will’s situating himself as the Chaotic Good between Jack’s Chaotic Neutral and Norrington’s Lawful Good. But I would argue he’s still pretty Lawful and, even under Jack’s tutelage, only resorts to Chaos in extremis; meanwhile Jack flits between Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral; Elizabeth’s arc is similar except it’s unidirectional; and without the Law at his back Norrington spirals into Neutral Evil.

It’s the Sparrabeth shipper in me but the last line of the movie is Jack singing a song that Elizabeth taught him. (*Cutler Beckett voice* “We’ve had dealings in the past. And we’ve each left our mark on the other.”) For a fic about what Jack leaves her, may I redirect you to Shrouded Heart by dollsome, linked above - and this brain dump comes full circle!

#this is already too long and it's...only the tip of the iceberg that is my potc feels #i've reserved my more effusive observations for illustrated commentary #stay tuned for comments & tag novels on edits i've found of my fave scenes #pirates of the caribbean #the long and short of the meta #t-recs

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crypticnala · 6 years

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r/supdating

Erumike supernatural week!

Day 1: Vampires and Werewolves

Summary: In Erwin long life he had seen many things. He wasn't really surprised by anything anymore. Sure, he still felt fascination and wonder. But nothing like having your breath taken away. And yet...

Rating : T Warning : No warning applies Wordcount : 1k6

Read on ao3 here or under the cut!

2018 - City Unknown

I clicked on the small round red icon with a white robot on it and soon enough was redirected to the home page of reddit. The small red envelope on top let me knew that I had one message to read, but I set it aside, preferring to browse the "best" of the subs I was following. Five minutes later, and a little deeper than where I was at the beginning, I couldn't take it anymore. That little red icon kept calling me, the bright color always in the corner of my vision, in the corner of my mind. I knew who it was. It could only be him, and the thought both filled me with excitation and dread. I ignored it for three threads before giving in. Sighing, I clicked on the inbox button. And as expected, there is was, the only message in my unread box. Mikemotor had answered. You would ask "What the hell is a vampire doing on reddit?" And I would answer with "Well, everyone needs to pass the time, especially vampires who have copious amount of it on their hands". So yes, this is how I found myself on reddit, wasting hours and hours away on popular and not so popular subs. What had brought me here first was my interest in modern mechanics and more particularly in mechanical transports. Cars, buses, trains, planes, motorcycle… It was so fascinating the way humans found new ideas to move themselves! Hell, I was as excited as a child when the overboard got out! And yes, I did buy one. And also, yes, I did fall and then kept the damn thing in my closet never to be brought out again. But it had been fun. So, in my constant search for more information about these moving vehicles that did not involves any animal of any kind, I stumbled upon the website reddit and decided it was good enough to feed me information that I was seeking. The community aspect was also what drew me to it. You actually interacted with other people, and for a vampire as old as me, it was something I was always searching. Interacting with other humans, it helped me stay in touch with the real world, helped learn the slangs, the new trends… It was the best way for me to try to keep an ounce of humanity. It was hard trying to keep up when you could only come out at night. And even if I could come out during the day, the truth was, after years of being a vampire, there was this impassable barrier that kept you from the humans. You sought them out when you needed them, but socializing? God forbid.

So I took what I could and lived on social interaction through a screen with stranger. And this is how I met u/mikemotor. It had started with small interactions, I saw him make a comment on r/MotorcyclePorn, and then on r/Motorcycle and then on every subs that I had a relation by far or not with motorcycles. I had first responded to one of his comments on one sub, then on another sub, and before I knew it, we were following each other and started a private conversation about whether one should go Italian or Japanese when choosing a racing motorcycle. But that was two five hundred messages ago. I had learned quite a few things about him, his name was Mike (big surprise there), he was a mechanic working in a garage that specialized in motorcycles (which explained all the motorcycle subs he was on), he was 34, was an only child, liked old and classic rock though he rarely went to concert or festival, liked spicy food (that one was very interesting as people eating a lot of spicy food had… interesting blood), and a surprise encounter on a gay nsfw sub let me knew what was Mike's sexuality and that he took working out very seriously and was what the gay community would label as "a wolf". We both learned that we lived in the same city, and it was only a matter of time before one of us asked to meet "irl". The day was tomorrow night. Mike had asked if I fancied having a beer with him, and while I told him I did not drink beer (I did not drink except blood really) I agreed to meet him after sundown. The message he had just sent me was to confirm the time and place. I replied shortly, telling it was fine on my end. I closed the computer, rubbing my eyes, it was an old habit very humanlike that I had actually never gotten rid of. I never needed to actually rub my eyes. Musing about our meeting of tomorrow I closed the computer and went about my night. As I lay in my bed, getting ready to sleep for the day, I couldn't help the small flutter of nerve that buzzed in my stomach. That was new, and I for one, did not dislike it. I glanced around the street, crossing when there was a pause in traffic, heading to the pub on the other side. The Beacon red in green letter above the door of the bar. It wasn't a fancy or too modern bar like you found in the city center. This one was in a discreet street, the front in warm brown wood, the dark green letters on it giving a comforting vibe. The music inside was good, the people there nice, the drink (from what I gathered) where good, everything inside was comfy and clean. Said like that, it was a perfect bar. Little did people know, The Beacon was also a "mixed" bar, like the community liked to call them. And I'm speaking about the general supernatural community. The bar was owned by a couple of demons, and contrary to some more selective club that used witchcraft to keep humans at bay, The Beacon welcomed everyone. Now, did Mike knew that? Or was he just a normal human that had stumbled upon this gem and decided it would be a good place for a first date. I mean, first meeting an "irl" friend. I shrugged the slight discomfort that had settled in my stomach and opened the door. Immediately the noise and the smell were too much for me. Cons of being a vampire with super sensitive sense. Still in the entrance, I tried to get my bearing. Relaxing, I searched through the crowd for Mike. He had told me he would be wearing a black leather jacket, but really, how many people wore leather jacket to go out? That's right, a shit ton. Apprehension growing, I scanned the crow once more, trying to find something, picking up leather jackets man before setting them aside, and then, there, at the back, sitting alone at a table, I saw him. I would have recognized the built and the presence everywhere. Strong arms, large chest, long brown hair, and eyes so dark they almost seemed black in the dimmed light. Something dropped, setting heavy in the pit of my stomach. I made my way to Mike, keeping my eyes on him, soon enough he shifted and looked up my way. His gazed fixed mine, and there, just now it came, his eyes widened in realization. I stopped in front of the table and looking him up and down. For a wolf, Mike was a damn wolf. As in, a fucking werewolf. I opened my mouth to speak, not even knowing what was going to come out, before Mike’s guffaw interrupted me. "You must be Erwin, I'm Mike" he stood, extending a hand, "it's a surprise, but I can't say I'm mad.", we shook hand, and I belatedly noticed that my body had decided to act on its own accord. I nodded to him, hand still clapped together. When they had first touched, the deep feeling in my stomach had stirred, filling from my head to my toes with warmth. Mike's hand still in mine, I stared at him, that feeling, that warm feeling, I knew it. It was the feeling that I knew this man. I was familiar with this hand, with this half smile, with that twinkle in his eyes. I knew him. And as sure as I knew him, I also knew that this was the first time I was seeing this man in my entire life. "Mike," I finally took my hand away, not sure how to respond to this new development. Mike smiled back, but it was strained, like something was also on his mind. His eyes went unfocused a short time before fixing on me again. "Erwin", he sat down, gesturing to the seat in front of him for me to sit too, "I'd offer you something to drink, but I guess you wouldn't be quite pleased with what they have on the menu here". I sat, smiling faintly, still trying to figure out how to go from there. We sat, staring at each other, not saying a word. A damn werewolf. Mike was probably thinking the same thing, trying to figure out how in hell had he befriended a damn vampire. I cleared my throat, trying to find something to say. "So you come here often?" I heard my mouth utter the word, while my brain was simultaneously screaming at me to shut it. All those years living, all the beauty of poetry, romance, music I lived through, and all I could say was that awful pickup line? But Mike laughed, his eyes crinkling, and once again that warm feeling washed all over me. "Come on, I'll go get something to drink, we'll talk and who knows, maybe you will get something to drink later tonight", he said standing up. He winked at me before disappearing in the crowd. Oh hell. You might as well enjoy your night, you old bat.

#erumikesuper2k18 #erumikeweek #erumike #erwin smith #mike zacharias #day 1 : vampires and werewolves #my fic

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thong-in-the-twist · 6 years

Text

The hose and the pole

I just don’t have anything to say, I can’t even defend myself and that idea.

Summary: Jongdae is a newbie firefighter and you want to slide down his pole. Or climb him like a ladder. Or make his hose squirt.

I swear I tried to hold horrible firefighting puns at bay, but I might have failed. Crackish. There is porn. More notes below.

“We are getting new probies today, Cap!” Baekhyun is once again parading around in his underwear only.

“Are we?” You ask, shutting the door behind you and walking to your locker. You see Minseok in the corner of your eye throwing Baekhyun’s balled up shirt at the half-naked guy with muttered dress the fuck up.

You throw your bag on the bench and yank the locker open. Hinges are rusty and not working properly. You know that today you are getting new probies. You’ve been told that several times already by battalion’s chief. It’s fairly common knowledge and if it wasn’t, working at the fire department for longer than a year teaches that once old probies graduate to firefighters – it’s time to get new probies. Especially when not all probies decide to stay.

“Cap–“ In Baekhyun’s mouth, the word sounds as if it had more than 4 syllables. “Do you think that they will stay?”

You take your hoodie off and you hang it in your locker. You don’t have to look around to know that everybody is staring at you waiting for you to answer. You can feel their eyes on your back, and it isn’t a nice feeling.

You take off your top, knowing that it will make them divert their gazes. At this point, you’ve resigned to the knowledge that you are never going to get separate locker room, shower room nor sleeping quarters. By-laws clearly state that you are entitled to have gender-specific rooms, but no one is going to remodel the whole department for one girl. You had to learn how to work around certain things, and the rest is left to your unit to protect what is left of your privacy.

You put on your tank top – part of the official uniform, and finally turn around. You don’t know what to say. Your unit is understaffed. You have three fire engines, but you can’t afford to use more than two. You don’t have enough people to safely staff all three. For the last six months, you were sure that the problem is solved – four promising probies meant you’d be able to staff all the machines.

But upon graduation only one of out them, Yixing decided to stay in the force.

“Damn straight they will!” You laugh with confidence you don’t feel. You are not even sure if you are trying to reassure your unit or yourself. You lock eyes with Minseok, your driver engineer, and he smiles at you, giving you courage that you desperately need. “I am sure that not only will they stay, but they will take Sehun’s place as our poster boy.”

“Bloody unlikely.” You smile hearing Sehun’s brusque retort, and rest of the guys laugh – the mood is up again.

“Ok, boys, let’s get moving.” Junmyeon, your second-in-command, stands up and claps his hands. Even you start hustling to get yourself dressed up for duty.

In the end, you only get one probie.

“Rotten luck, huh?” You brush Taeyong’s hand off your shoulder. He caught you just outside of battalion’s chief's office. You can see on his face that he already knows. You squint your eyes at him.

“How many did you got?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?!” That’s unbelievable. And clearly unfair. “What is that even? Are you trying to form a Quidditch team?”

“Yeah, that was always my little dream.” He laughs and takes off his cap to ruffle his hair. “I am already off duty, but I wanted to see your face when you get the news.”

Taeyong is captain of the second unit. You work shift system – 48h on shift, 48h off, and your unit and Taeyong’s unit change. You know that there are reasons for his unit to get more new recruits – they have less seniority and they try to make up with numbers what they lack in skills, but it’s still annoying.

“Fuck off.” You muse without any real spite and turn around to go to get your probie.

“Was about to anyway. Have fun breaking a new one in!”

When you arrive in the garage Junmyeon is already taking care of new recruit. He seems attentive and intelligent, but other than that – tired. They are always tired, coming here straight from military training.

You see Yixing notice you from under the open hood of a fire engine, but you wave to him not to make a sound. If Junmyeon is showing the newbie around no need for him to be distracted by your arrival. You walk over to Minseok, or rather his feet because he is hidden under your favourite fire engine, and you kick the bumper. Minseok rolls from under the truck his hands dirty and uniform tank top already stained.

“Can you imagine? Only one.” You whine and Minseok snickers, sitting up on his wheeled board.

“You know, they are not comfortable with working under a woman.” You rest against the machine, observing how Baekhyun tries to disturb Junmyeon and new guy and how Chanyeol kicks him in the ass.

You know that. No one ever applies to your unit, because no one can believe you are good at your job. But your unit? They are loyal.

“Promise me one thing.” You say, and Minseok hums, reaching into a toolbox. “Don’t ride him too hard.”

“You know I can’t promise that!” Your favourite driver engineer laughs, and you don’t know if you want to strangle him or laugh with him.

“Damn it, Minseok, I need that probie!” You scold in a hushed voice, but Minseok only shrugs.

“You know that nothing can be done about that. You don’t even know if he is going to be any good.” He tries to reason, but you just stare at him in silence until the sighs.” Ok, I will try to stop Baekhyun from going overboard.”

You nod, but the fact that no one can stop Baekhyun is left unspoken. You pat the hood twice and walk away, leaving Minseok to do his job. Every machine is being taken care of – you have three driver engineers for two conventional fire trucks and one with turntable ladder. It breaks your heart that you don’t have enough people to be able to get all three to work – you could push your luck. There are 9 people in your unit, so every truck would get three people, but working in threes is unsafe. Only three more and you’d have four per truck. That would be enough.

Chanyeol dragged Baekhyun away and now they are cleaning gas masks under furthers wall. Minseok, Kyungsoo and Jongin (your driver engineers) are taking care of the engines, while Sehun and Yixing are cleaning goggles. Which means everyone is working and you can leave them to prepare a training program for your probie.

Whose name you don’t yet know.

There is a knock on the office door and you look up – you are still in the garage, only windows with blinds separating you from outside world. Junmyeon is behind the door and probie is peering from behind you. You beckon them in with your hand.

“Sorry, Cap, I showed our probie around and I thought you’d like to meet him.” You notice that guy reacts to the word probie, but you stay nothing when you stand up. You shake probie’s hand as Junmyeon sits down in one of the chairs in front of the desk you share with Taeyong.

“Nice to meet you,…?”

“Kim Jongdae, ma’am.” Ma’am. Junmyeon masks laughter with a cough and you know that for the next week everyone is going to call you ma’am. Lovely.

“It’s ‘captain’ or ‘cap’.” You say without a blink, and you show him to sit and you do the same. You clasp your hands. “So. Jongdae. Why firefighter?”

He shows you a shy smile, corners of his lips jumping slightly up.

“To help people.” Junmyeon raises his eyebrows at you, looking impressed and you ignore him.

“Commendable. So why our unit?”

“I felt sorry because no one wanted to work under a female captain.” You blink at least four times, not sure if you’ve heard that clearly. But he looks at you earnestly.

“That’s nice of you.” It’s Junmyeon who breaks the silence, and he pats Jongdae’s shoulder. “Let me show you your locker and bed.”

It’s long after they are gone that you go back to work.

At work, you go to bed early. When engines are taken care of and equipment is prepared, you send the guys to take showers. While they shower you and Junmyeon check your apparatus, water and oil levels in the trucks, all special uniforms, everything that needs to be read in case of emergency. Then you send Junmyeon up and check engines with your driver engineers.

Only when you are sure everything is alright you go up to take a shower.

It’s always surreal to be taking shower at the station – the room is big, without any partitions except for the one that separates showers from ‘dry’ section. You usually take shower next to one of those, feeling better that you are shielded from at least one side.

When you walk into sleeping quarter boys are getting to know the probie.

“But why the hell you keep calling me probie?” Asks Jongdae as you enter.

“It comes from a probationary firefighter.” You answer, walking down the alley made from the beds. All the heads snap to you, and you hear Baekhyun whisper to Jongdae she sleeps with us.

You stop at the second to last bed. As a captain, you have to be fairly close to the pole, but drivers come first. You throw your jacket on the nightstand next to the bed and take your shoes off. You sit on the bed, turning so you can see most of your unit (Minseok is behind you, but he is one of those you don’t have to worry about).

You immediately see that Jongdae isn’t wearing his tank top. You also notice that neither Baekhyun nor Sehun are wearing theirs, and Yixing is sitting on his bed looking sullen and rubbing his chest. You want to groan, but you don’t comment. As a woman, you enjoy what you see, but as a firefighter… You want to strangle Baekhyun because you are sure he is the mastermind behind that.

“In this line of duty, you get as much sleep as you can.” You say, seemingly to all your unit, but you all know that’s directed to Jongdae. He nods solemnly. “Jongdae, you know how to slide down the pole, right?”

The room shakes with laughter, and you roll your eyes, but you can’t contain a smile.

“One would think that working at the fire department that would stop being funny to you, unappeased swines.” Kyungsoo complaint only makes them laugh louder.

“The one behind you, ma’am?” Asks Jongdae above the laughter. Playful glint in his eyes stops you from scolding him.”I can work it!”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol howl with laughter and you just shake your head. Probie high fives with both of them.

“Cap, I like this one!” Exclaims Baekhyun, and you only sigh. Baekhyun is one of the oldest seniority, which should mean he is lenient to new ones.

He is not. And you are sure that no matter how likeable Jongdae is, Baekhyun is going through with his plan.

That’s a tradition. On the first night of the probie alarm is going to ring. Whether it’s a real emergency or just training, the alarm will ring. And everybody knows that except for the probie – so no one is surprised when it rings at 00:11.

You sit up, feet already sliding into your shoes, you grab your jacket and you put it on as you jog to the pole. Minseok has already disappeared into the hole, Kyungsoo is sliding through, and Jongin is in the middle of hugging the pole.

You grab the metal as soon as Jongin is sliding down. You hug it, pole fitting between your breasts, and your feet push at it – you slide down, heart beating as your feet control the speed. In the garage you jump away, pushing your hand into your pocket. A lotion is still there.

It’s only sliding training, and everyone knows what will happen so none of the engineers went to their trucks. They are standing out of the way, looking up, waiting for Jongdae to come down.

He is second last to descend, but you all can tell he is coming, before you see him, as the loud whine-hiss is accompanying him. You find Baekhyun in the crowd (who is wearing his tank top) and you shake your head at him. He smiles innocently at you and looks away to focus on suffering Jongdae.

As soon as Jongdae’s feet find the floor he jumps away from the pole, face red. There is a bright red line of excoriated skin on his chest. You can see similar injuries on his arms.

That is also a tradition. To fool the probie to sleep without tank top on the first night. You hate it, but when you tried to break it when Yixing was still probie your unit threatened with rebellion.

And now you stand with them, observing Jongdae – wondering how he is going to react. Is he going to quit on the spot? You wouldn’t be able to blame him, but you wish he won’t.

He looks down at his chest, and then slowly he looks up – localizing Baekhyun in the crowd. He jumps at him, and he is swift enough to catch you all off-guard. You immediately move to break up the fight, just like the others do – at least until you realize that Jongdae is keeping Baekhyun in a headlock and he is laughing.

“You little…” He wheezes, and you have to turn around not to laugh. It’s your first time seeing probie go for revenge. You can imagine how surprised is Baekyun, but the most important part – if he’s like that after the first prank – he will survive them all.

“Ok, enough!” Junmyeon finally breaks them up. “Good time, we can go up now. And Jongdae – never, I repeat, never sleep without your tank top.”

“I think I got that, Lieut!” You don’t miss the fact that he calls Junmyeon by his rank, which annoys you, but you turn around.

“Probie,” you call him, fishing the soothing lotion out of your pocket,” catch.”

He manages to grab it and upon checking the name he says:

“Thank you, ma’am.”

There is something annoying and endearing about Jongdae. The fact that no prank can shake him is endearing. How he takes his optimism to face whatever Baekhyun prepared for him is endearing. How he knows how did it and how he immediately seeks revenge is endearing. How he keeps calling you ma’am is annoying.

That’s why one of the pranks is your doing.

It’s around a week since Jongdae started, and you are all out on the training grounds, just behind the department. Your engines are all ready, but you borrowed the biggest one in Taeyong’s unit. You could have used one of your engines, but you wanted a machine that can store the biggest amount of water.

Even Baekhyun whistled and eyed you appreciatively when Minseok drove the machine on the field. You refused to look him in the eye.

“Probie!” You call Jongdae (you stopped calling him Jongdae when you realized he is not going to stop calling you ma’am), and he trots to you. Chanyeol and Sehun are already screwing fire hose on the hydrant. “Today we’ll teach you how much water fire engine can hold, and how to work the fire hose.”

“Oh, ma’am, I am sure I can work the fire hose.” Minseok snickers and you do all you can not to murder him with your eyes.

“That’s great.” You say evenly and you see that playful sparkles in Jongdae’s eyes die, to be replaced with seriousness. “First you’ll fill the truck with water. Usually, we don’t do it manually, but it’s the best way for you to grasp the numbers we talk about. Then you’ll learn how to hold the hose steady.”

If he has any smart remark it dies before he can say anything. You nod to Chanyeol and Sehun and they call Jongdae over. They lead him to the truck, they show him how to open a hatch on the upside of the water container. They show him how to open the hose and how to regulate the water flow.

In the meantime you climb up the hood and sit down, whistling quietly. In a second Minseok and Junmyeon joins you.

“That’s particularly cruel of you.” Musses Junmyeon who can see Jongdae on the machine filling it with water. It will take around 10 minutes.

“What is?” You ask, without any remorse. “He needs to learn all of that.”

Minseok hums something, and Junmyeon stares at you for a while. When he realizes that you are not going to say anything else, he shakes his head and walks away to check on rest of the guys.

“There is a lot of head shaking around here lately.” Observes Minseok, and you completely ignore him.

Ten minutes later the sounds of water die and Jongdae with Chanyeol and Sehun climb down. They come around the engine to report that the container has been filled.

“Probie, are you tired?” You ask, still sitting on the hood.

“Yes, a little, ma’am. It’s hard to keep the hose in the same position for so long.”

“And yet, that’s our job. Move your arms a little, now you’ll learn how to use the hose efficiently. Sehun, our golden boy, show probie your amazing hose skills.”

“Shouldn’t he be showing them to you, Cap?” Laughs Baekhyun from the side, and immediately Kyungsoo hits him in the back of the head. You smile nonetheless. By now you are accustomed to those jokes. And really, the fire department is filled with possibilities for kinky puns.

You watch as Sehun shows Jongdae different positions with the hose – all depending on the kind of fire he’ll have to fight with. The standing position, the low position, how to roll or crawl with it, and while they are at it you send Kyungsoo for belt strap. He won’t say it, but you can see in his eyes that excitement is getting even to him.

When he brings it back, he is nearly eager.

You remember your first week at the department. You remember when your captain, now Department’s Chief did that to you. You are sure that everyone around went through that (you can be sure because you saw them all suffer it), and that they are excited to see it one more time.

Because if it’s not you suffering, it’s quite a spectacle.

“Ok, probie, grab the hose in the standing position.” You order, and there is shine in Jongdae’s eyes.

“Kinky.” Murmurs Sehun and you make a mental note to make him do the dishes for a week.

“Yes, ma’am.” You ignore both Jongdae and the shiver that goes down your spine when he grabs the hose and pushes it against his side, nozzle close enough for him to cover it with his fingers. Baekhyun hoots when you strap the hose to Jongdae’s belt, and then he whines when Junmyeon hits him.

“At first it will be hard to keep it in your hands, that’s why we strap you.” You say as an explanation, wondering why everything you say comes as sexual. “But you’ll have back up, Sehun will be the one behind you, cushioning you and securing the hose.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jongdae’s eyes are so clearly laughing that you feel uncomfortable. He is only a probie, and he can still make you uncomfortable. You check the strap, knowing that soon you’ll be the one laughing.

“Ready?” You ask and seeing a nod, you wave to Minseok to turn on the water. He starts with 50% power, which is already a strong stream, surprising Jongdae who needs to scramble to hold the hose down. Sehun is behind him, foot on the hose, clamping it down, and hand on Jongdae’s shoulder securing him.

When Jongdae seems that he is sure with the hose you sign to Sehun to take a hand off Jongdae’s shoulder and you sign to Minseok to hit 60%. Jongdae’s hands shake, but he manages to steady himself, still shooting in the right direction. Unwittingly you note that he has a really good handle on the hose and that he’ll be a good firefighter.

Once he clears that.

You see that all of the members of your unit are slowly moving back, and you also slowly walk to join Junmyeon next to the fire engine.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and you only sign to Sehun that it’s the time. He was looking over his shoulder the whole time, so he is ready to quietly disappear from behind Jongdae.

“Probie! We are moving it up a gear. Hold up!” You call, and Minseok doesn’t move to really change the gear. But Sehun moves, taking his foot off the hose. Jongdae’s arms shake – even from here you can see the slight swell of veins on his neck. Wrong. He shouldn’t be using muscles, but he should brace it against himself and use his spine.

Anyway, he is going to learn in a second.

“Probie, look ahead, we are moving up!” You call, and he calls something back. It doesn’t matter, because Minseok, quite carelessly, turns on the 100% power.

It takes a second before the power of the new setting gets to Jongdae but you see the moment it happens. The hose goes wild, the stream too strong to be held down. The hose starts moving from side to side, Jongdae too weak to secure it – but even as the hose escapes his hands – he can’t. You personally strapped him to the hose.

“How long is it going to take?” Asks Yixing, who probably has his own encounter with the wild hose still fresh in his mind.

“I guess around three minutes?” You say as the nozzle of the hose falls to the ground, bringing Jongdae in the air for a brief moment. It’s greeted with loud noise full of wonder among the guys. Jongdae whines loudly – loud enough to be heard over water. “Hold the hose, probie!”

Baekhyun looks at you with admiration in his eyes.

By the time Jongdae empties the machine you can see that he barely holds himself up. The hose makes him run from side to side, trying to fight it down, and when it dies, he collapses to the tarmac.

No one runs to him – because tarmac is slippery with water, but all the member of the unit move to clean up the training ground. You are the one to squat next to Jongdae. He is wide awake, breathing heavily, but he is laughing.

Which is normal – the exhausted body can do weird things with adrenaline.

“Probie, look at me.” You order, and he focuses on you, even though his eyes are shining madly. “If something like this happens, do you know what to do? Just open your belt.”

You press his buckle and belt falls with the strap still securing the nozzle to it. Jongdae gapes at you, so defeated by the fact his suffering could have been way shorter – had he thought a little.

“Don’t kick yourself too much about that. No one ever realizes.” You say, not without satisfaction, and you grab the hose to roll it back into the truck.

Sehun comes to help Jongdae back to his feet, and you hear his whisper you shouldn’t piss our Cap off, she can be vindictive.

And for that Sehun will get a month of doing dishes.

It’s been six weeks since Jongdae joined your unit, but it already felt like he was a veteran. He suffered all the pranks Baekhyun prepared for him, and he made through all of those you’ve pulled him through. And if he sought revenge on Baekhyun, he quietly stomached all the lessons you taught him by your pranks.

And there was only one prank left before Jongdae’ll be allowed to join you during real calls.

You think that his optimism made it so tempting to make him suffer. It seemed like he enjoyed all those potentially harmful situations (but you never allowed your probie to be in real danger – you need him).

The last prank is usually left to the other unit. After six weeks people grow close, and they lose their desire to make the probie suffer – but the second unit can’t grow attached to people they don’t see all the time.

Baekhyun nearly cried when he heard that he’ll be able to do 7 more pranks, so happy he was. He even invited Jongdae to help him, which showed how spot-on was the idea to make the other unit prank the probie for the last time.

You didn’t really know what to think of that. You also grew attached to Jongdae, he was still probie, but your probie, and he was just funny. But he still called you ma’am, which annoyed the shit out of you. But were you happy with Taeyong and his unit preparing celebratory prank for Jongdae? Not really.

Especially since you didn’t know what that was.

On the last day, you scheduled gas masks training. You taught Jongdae that in gas situation there was a relay, people running to get into the gas-filled building, would get helmed from one person, put it on, next person would give them the gas mask, they would put the nozzle in their mouths, and the last person would give them goggles, and they would put them on as the last part – all in the run.

It was usually hectic, so gas mask training was necessary to make people work on instinct. You went first: Minseok handed you the helmed, Kyungsoo the gas mask, and Jongin the goggles and you ran down the flight of stairs.

Jongdae was just behind you – but when he took the first step, he missed and he went tumbling down, hitting walls and the railing until he stopped on the ground in front of you.

That would have been hilarious if it wasn’t scary.

You immediately found yourself next to him – just to realize that his goggles were stuffed with paper so he couldn’t have seen anything, and in the hurry and hectic relay, he didn’t even see that before it was too late.

He laughed. Loudly and freely – and that laugh marked his last day as a newbie. The newest probie.

Now he moved to be the working probie.

You went out for the celebratory beer. Kyungsoo surprised all of you exclaiming that he actually filmed most of the pranks and your unit finished their first beers laughing and watching how much Jongdae suffered. You cried with laughter when you saw the hose showdown again.

“That was ruthless, Cap!” Laughed Baekhyun. “My hosedown was with one of our engines and it only lasted about two minutes? But when I saw Minseok drive out the beast…”

“So everyone had the same experience?” Asks Jongdae, and they all dutifully nod.

“But few can say that they got our biggest fire engine for their match.” Laughs Junmyeon and everyone looks at you. You shrug.

“But probie was all about how he can manage the fire hose. So I made him live up to that title.”

“Oh, Cap, but I can show you how well I can manage it.” It’s the first time he calls you Cap, and you hate how much it shakes you. Especially with that sultry eyes.

“Obviously.” You muse, feigning disinterest and turning to Chanyeol to talk. But you can feel it. The arousal brewing under your skin.

Nearly every day you are surrounded by handsome guys. Well build. Strong. You are a captain at the fire department, for fucks’ sake. It’s like an ultimate wet dream. It’s been few years, but you held strong. Dodging improper interests, going into lewd jokes head in – to show people around you that you are one of them and not a love interest. That’s why you made them call you Cap. It was genderless. It was mild.

And that’s why it bothered you so much that Jongdae didn’t do that.

And that’s why it thrilled you so much when Jongdae didn’t do that.

Even as you were getting drunk you realized that you’ve crossed your line some time ago.

In situations like that fire department is closer than your home. It is your second home anyway, one with bed and shower and kitchen and clothes to change it. So you went there, instead of trying to reach your home.

But you don’t go alone.

Jongdae tag along.

You don’t say anything to that, although your blood buzz in your veins. You don’t know if it is intoxication or Jongdae, but you feel lightheaded.

Sitting on your bed, second to last, seems familiar and really foreign, especially when Jongdae sits down on his best, first from the doors. Both of you could just pass out on the beds, so similar to all the instances when you did just that.

“Probie.” You call, and he tips his head to the side. “Why did you insist on calling me ma’am.”

He smiles lazily and rests on his elbows on the bed.

“When I saw you for the first time I found you really sexy in the usual uniform that I wanted to make you think about me – and I thought that even if I annoy you it would work.”

You laugh, dropping on the bed. The crack in the ceiling is the same one you always see.

“Probie.” You say and you hear a hum from the other side of the room. “Come here.”

He listens as well as he usually does. As he always does. He comes to you, curious fingers pushing your top up, stopping only at the hem of your sports bra you wear to work. His fingers slide along it, trying to find a looser part, and there is a quiet but persistent whine in the back of his throat, which you find quite endearing. Your fingers find his neck, and you slowly coax him up - to kiss you. And he does so eagerly, with those lips curved at the ends fitting with yours nicely. The skin under your mouth is soft, but the lips themselves are hard, pushing against yours. You might have moaned at the first taste of his tongue in your mouth.

You take off his shirt, but you don't stop to appreciate his torso - you've seen it. You've seen it more than once, and now you realize that it might have been intentional. Jongdae always seemed to chill out in the sleeping quarter shirtless after the shower.

You'd always reminded him to wear the tank top to sleep, and now you know - you only showed him that you notice.

It was hard not to, professional firefighters are usually good with their bodies.

But you saw it already, and although your fingers might be content to explore the expanse of soft skin, you have different priorities. Like kissing him, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. His smell was familiar and yet so refreshingly new. The fire department's smell was clinging to him, but his own distant smell made your head spin.

At another whine, you pushed him away. You knew that he won't be able to take care of sports bra, so you took your shirt off and then you struggled to pull the demonic fabrics off your body.

That achievement earned you dexterous fingers on your breasts and thumbs on your nipples.

Next few minutes consisted of fumbling with clothes and making out and rolling around in your small (and loud) bed.

But the magic comes about fifteen minutes after that. You know that he must be less drunk that you thought he was because is way too sure with what he's doing. He brought you over the edge more than once, and by now you are covered in sweat, body strung out and flushed, and you don't even remember how to talk. You whine, you moan, you plead with your fingers in his back, his thighs, his ass. His face is red above you, but not as much as his swollen lips - he keeps kissing you nonetheless, mindless of the fact that you can no longer answer him.

Your legs on his hips are twitching, your back is arched, but you still can't get enough of how he rolls his hips, fucking into you slowly.

He was slow from the beginning, savouring every slide home - and you savoured it with him.

He tries to kiss you again, and your mouth just falls open as you sigh a desperate sound. Jongdae growls, and it's such an amazing sound that you find yourself reacting to it, hips rising as if you were chasing the sound. He bends down and bites your lower lip - and you can only moan, your nails sinking into his skin. Again. You are so sure that his backside is going to be covered with half-moons of your fingers, but you can't bring yourself to care.

Your pelvic floor muscles are cramping regularly by now, and you are just waiting for it, your body shaking with exertion. The pleasure is just a notch too much, a notch too overwhelming.

The tears in the corners of your eyes are slowly drying up, but the new ones threaten to fall down.

Please, you mouth, please - you can only beg silently because you can't find your voice. You can barely think, much less talk or even move.

Jongdae moans, and it's a broken sound, and he adjusts his knees and starts to fuck you a little faster. It might be a second or maybe a third time he does that since he first entered you, and you close your eyes, overwhelmed.

You are so close, so close, if he keeps that up, if his thumb on your clitoris stays there, you are sure to get it. You are desperate by now to both come and end this, because it's just too much for your intoxicated brain. It's amazing, but it's too much.

Jongdae slows down again, and a broken cry escapes your throat and your body shakes with need.

Please.

Maybe the last plea breaks him, maybe Jongdae can't stand it anymore because suddenly he gets faster. Stronger. He fucks you like he means it, he fucks you like he has a purpose, and you lose yourself in the feelings. Your moans mix with his, but even that can't drown out the lewd sound of his thrusts. Your body feels hot, too hot, and too-tight, and you are coming, your mind blanks with Jongdae's heartfelt groan filling your ears.

"Cap?" Baekhyun voice is annoyingly cheerful.

"What do you want?" You ask, mindless of how hostile you sound. You are all gathered at the department's gym - working out. Except for Baekhyun, who is hovering over you as you try to work on your core.

"Nothing, I was just wondering..." You wish Baekhyun talked faster. You know that his second nature is to be annoying, but everything has its limits. "Is Jongdae so apt in hose-wielding as he claims to be, or maybe it wasn't even enough to put your fire out, ma'am?"

It's Jongdae who decides to answer, and it's as embarrassing as one might think.

"Well, Baekhyun, if you really must know: as a firefighter, it's my job to go in when it's extremely hot and believe me, I never pull out until it's dripping wet."

Before you all attack me for abusing Jongdae - the story is based on real-life events, namely a few days ago I heard it from my father, who, back when there was mandatory military service in my country, chose to work as a firefighter instead of going on with a military training. And the pranks? Yeah, survived it all, but he broke his clavicle on the last one. Still says that one one of the funniest job he ever did.

Plz, hit me with your worst firefighters puns and pick-up lines, because that’s a gold mine.

#jongdae scenario #chen scenario #exo scenario #chen imagine #jongdae imagine #jongdae imagines #jongdae scenarios #Jongdae #chen scenarios #chen imagines #chen #exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo

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Book Bits: “A Bit of a Pickle” Chapter Three

Book Bits: "A Bit of a Pickle" Chapter Three

Thank you for joining me for Book Bits. In this episode, we will begin to read the book "A Bit of a Pickle" by Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue. This is the second book in the Simmons Series.

Enjoy!

A BIT OF A PICKLE

WRITTEN BY NICOLE HIGGINBOTHAM-HOGUE

COPYRIGHTED BY NICOLE HIGGINBOTHAM-HOGUE

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER THREE "Ihave to pee," Edna said, stirring Gertie from her relaxing mindset. Gertie had been driving for what seemed like hours, and she was sure that they had to be close to their destination. "Can't you hold it?" she asked, looking around. There were no gas stations in sight, and the sun had started to set, making everything in the distance look like a dim gray outline.

"No, I have to go right now," Edna insisted. "Pull over."

"Edna, I told you to stop sipping on that camelback," Gertie replied. "It was a good gesture, but I knew that you would overdo it with the fluids."

"Well, maybe you were right," Edna replied. "But if you don't pull the car over, we are going to have to deal with a problem bigger than my excessive hydration."

"Fine," Gertie retorted, swinging the truck over to the side of the road. She wasn't fond of the idea of her wife urinating in public, but at this point, she saw no other choice. "Just hurry, Edna. This is a little embarrassing."

"Will do," Edna said, stripping off the camelback and flying through the passenger door.

Gertie sat in silence, looking around the truck as she did. The last thing that she wanted was for her wife to get arrested for indecent exposure.

"Oh no," a cry sounded from outside the truck.

Gertie looked and saw her wife running across the roadside with her undergarment flapping beneath her. "Edna Simmons!" Gertie lectured. "What on Earth are you doing?" Gertie waited for her wife to stop, but she just continued to run, and Gertie let out a deep sigh and got out of the truck to chase after her.

Running at full speed, Gertie caught up with her wife, who was panicked and screaming. "What's going on?" Gertie asked, looking to the roadside as a truck blared its loud horn.

"Look down," Edna cried. "It's tangled around my foot."

Gertie looked at Edna's foot and saw a long, dangling object. "Is that a snake?" Gertie inquired, trying to look closer.

"Yes," Edna cried. "Get it off of me."

Gertie looked around for a stick or any kind of object that would help her perform the grueling task and finally found a large branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. "Hold still," she commanded as she brought the stick closer to Edna, who was now taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. Gertie slowly edged the stick closer, preparing for the snake to fight back, but the operation went smoothly, and Gertie managed to extract the small creature without any backlash. "There," Gertie said, grinning at her wife. "Now, do you want to pull up your drawers. Those truckers over there have been getting quite the show."

"Well, I'm glad that I could be their source of entertainment," Edna grumbled. "Because that snake damn near scared me."

Gertie smiled at her wife and looked over at the snake on the end of the stick that she was holding, but the snake wasn't moving at all. "Are you sure that this is a snake?" Gertie asked, squinting and bringing the object closer to her face.

"Be careful, Gertie," Edna warned. "It might bite."

"I think that I will be okay," Gertie mused, a look of recognition on her face. "This isn't a snake, Edna. It's a piece of a tire."

"Don't lie to me like that, Gertie," Edna told her. "It's not nice."

"No really," Gertie grinned. "It really is a tire. Look." Gertie picked up the long material at the end of the stick with her bare fingers, wiggling it in front of her wife.

"No kidding," Edna sighed. "This whole time I was running from a piece of rubber?"

"Only you," Gertie smiled, throwing the piece of material into the wind. "Now, come on. We need to get there before the sun is completely gone. I don't have the best of night vision."

"Alright," Edna said. "But next time that I have to go to the bathroom, we are stopping somewhere. I don't think that I could handle having another experience like the one that we just had."

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is image.png GERTIE ROLLED INTO the hotel parking lot and stopped the car. She couldn't see her surroundings at this point, but she knew that something was different. The air had grown cooler as they neared the city, and there were some signs that indicated that there might be mountains around them. Gertie got out of the truck, stretching her legs and walked to the other side to help her wife out. She was ready for a good rest after such a long drive, and she knew that as soon as she got their luggage inside, she was free to relax.

"Gertie, can you grab the bags?" Edna asked, yawning. "I'll go inside and check in."

"Sounds good to me," Gertie replied. She really wasn't in the mood to hold a conversation with anyone at the front desk, and the idea of just being able to go straight to her room put a smile on her face.

Edna smiled and walked into the hotel, and Gertie waited for her wife to enter before turning her attention back to the task at hand. She wasn't looking forward to carrying Edna's bags. Her wife had gotten a bit excited and gone overboard with the packing, and Gertie knew that it would be a struggle carry them all in one trip. Nevertheless, Gertie wasn't one to give up that easily. Where there was a will, there was a way, and she knew that if she could get all of the bags up to the room, she wouldn't have to come downstairs until morning.

Gertie opened the door to the cab of the truck, backing up as a group of bags bounced out of the truck and onto the ground. Edna had definitely overpacked. Gertie shook her head at the mess, knowing that she should just get the task over with and began to pile the bags on her arms. She had just about gotten every one of them, when she noticed a small bag in the back of the truck. "Dang it," Gertie said, wondering how she was going to get it, but at that moment, she noticed a dark shape by the trash receptacle and her mind was at ease. "Sir," Gertie called towards the stranger. She didn't usually like to ask for help, but at this point, she saw no other option. "Sir," Gertie called again, but the stranger didn't respond.

Gertie struggled with her bags, trying to inch closer to the mute stranger, hoping to get a response. "Sir, I know that you are probably busy, but I just wanted to ask you if you would help me with my bags. You see, my wife overpacked, and though I've managed to get a majority of her belongings, I can't reach the little bag that is deep in the cab of my truck."

Gertie watched as the man came closer but thought it odd when she saw the gentleman lower himself to his hands and knees.

"Never mind, sir," Gertie said, wondering what kind of lunatic she had just contracted to help her. The man was beginning to creep her out a little, and she certainly didn't want to pick up any weirdos while they were out of town.

But the burly man kept coming towards her on all fours, halting just a few steps in front of her. Gertie squinted her eyes in the moonlight, hoping to get a good look at the gentleman in case she had to report him to the authorities later for some sort of crime, but as her eyes focused in the dark setting, she realized that the person in front of her wasn't a man. In fact, she hadn't been talking to a person at all. Instead, the recipient of her communication was in fact a black bear, and the animal didn't look very happy.

"Oh," Gertie squeaked, not knowing what to do. She debated whether she should run into the truck or if she should just stay right where she was. "Sorry to bother you," Gertie said to the bear, hoping that the animal would back off and leave her alone. "I didn't mean to interrupt your dinner."

The bear looked at her blankly, and Gertie stared back, wondering if this was her final moment. She took a large gulp as the bear began to move and sighed as the large animal walked away from her and back to its trash can. Gertie closed the doors of the truck quietly, the bags in her hands and inched her way toward the front doors of the hotel. Edna would have to wait for her last bag until morning. There was no way that Gertie was going back.

Thank you for joining me for this episode of Book Bits. Stay tuned for the next installment, and until then, be safe and well.

About the Author

Growing up in a small town, Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue spent a majority of her time reading and writing, so when she was granted the opportunity to write full-time, she didn't have to think twice. Since beginning her writing career, she has managed to pen several lesbian romances, while adding a little action and adventure to spice things up. As a newly graduated MBA student, she plans to use her recently discovered free time to craft the art that she loves. For more information on Nicole's new releases or to find out what she has been working on, sign-up for her newsletter at higginbothampublications.com.

Also by Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue

Jems and Jamz

Don't Tell Me Twice

A Second Chance

To the Beat of Their Own Drum

Finding a Voice

A Fan to Remember

Aspiring Affection

A Stepping Stone

The Jems and Jamz Series: Books 1-2

The Jems and Jamz Series: Books 3-4

The Jems and Jamz Series: Books 5-7

The Jems and Jamz Series Boxset

Simmons Series

A Brief Debacle

A Bit of a Pickle

The Catnip Conundrum

The Simmons Series: Books 1-2

The Avery Detective Series

Sentiment to the Heart

Heart's Content

Complicated Heart

Thank you for joining me for this episode of Book Bits. I look forward to seeing you next time.

#lesfic book reading

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beckettsthoughts · 7 years

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Poetry

Poetry: If you have one, name a favourite book or poem.

This is the best question, I love poetry so much and I have some definite favourites. I also have couple of favourite books, or at least books I love with all my heart and will always recommend, so I’ll note those at the end. I apologise for this taking a while, but there’s no way I could go short on this one. No way whatsoever. I really needed a distraction and I felt like this was the kind of ask I could drag out into an essay-length epic of rambling about literature, so I hope you don’t mind that I kind of took this and ran with it.

I read it in your word, and learn it from, by Rainer Maria Rilke

This is my favourite poem from Rilke’s collection Poems from the Book of Hours, a book I bought several years ago from an adorable little shop in Paris. “I read it in your word, and learn it from/ the history of the gestures of your warm/ wise hands,” this poem so perfectly describes a feeling I cannot otherwise put into words. Something like listening to a person and understanding them, learning from them and appreciating them.

The Yellow Palm, by Robert Minhinnick

I studied this poem for GCSE, which by all rights should mean I hate it. Instead, this poem has become one of my favourites. With rich sensory description and a complex emotional impact, this ballad describes Minhinnick’s experiences walking the streets of Baghdad in the late 1990s. It’s political in a more subtle way than some, but you can truly empathise with both the people the poet describes and the poet himself. It stuck in my head for a long time after I first read it.

Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out, by Richard Siken

I have not read that much of Siken’s work. I have read this and maybe one or two others, so I cannot claim to know much about Siken. This poem, however, really caught my heart when I discovered it some years ago and it has not released it since. Siken’s writing is captivating, in all honesty, and the structure of the poem is nothing short of genius. It’s an analysis, a musing, a conversation, a letter and a lesson. I could possibly talk about this poem for hours.

The Lost Leader, by Robert Browning

This is another of the poems I studied at school, this one for my A Level course. Again, my reaction to school-sanctioned texts was not so typical, because my teacher’s enthusiasm netted me and Browning is now one of my favourite poets. The Lost Leader is actually not so typical for Browning, definitely the most unique from the collection we studied, and I love it as much for the political and social context as I do for the phrasing and the rhythm. This poem is, in all honesty, Browning grousing about Wordsworth for selling out to the monarchy and betraying the liberal cause. “Just for a handful of silver he left us/ Just for a riband to stick in his coat.” It’s like the Romance poets’ equivalent of a modern day celebrity Twitter feud, complete with name-dropping and petty accusations.

Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen

Okay, I know this is another typical school poem, but I didn’t actually cover this one in any of my English classes. Not even when we had an entire year studying war and conflict poems. No, this poem has entered my consciousness many times over the years and eventually it stuck, as poems seem wont to do. This poem is a scathing criticism of political attitudes to conflict and the glorification of war. The brutal descriptions and imagery are drawn from Owen’s own experiences, and the honesty behind it is one of the reasons this poem is as powerful as it is. The last line refers to a famous phrase, “Dulce et decorum est/ Pro patria mori”, meaning ‘it is sweet and honorable to die for one’s country’, as “the old Lie”; arguing against the perception of war as a noble thing and instead highlighting the cruelty and brutality instead. This poem is revolutionary, and it changed many people’s attitudes towards war, and that is why I love it as much as I do.

The Laboratory, by Robert Browning

And another one from Browning, another one I studied in school. This is one of a group my class dubbed ‘the murder poems’ and for good reason, as this poem details one woman’s plans to poison her ex-lover and his new paramour in the setting of the aristocratic, feudal Ancien Régime of France. It’s written in iambic pentameter, making the rhythm deceptively bouncy and upbeat compared to the subject matter, and the descriptive language is just luscious. The narrator describes the poisons in the laboratory with such fervour, the “gold oozings” and “exquisite blue”, and her wicked excitement about it all is what drives that fast rhythm. It’s hard not to enjoy this poem, honestly.

Angel with a Fiddle, by Bette Wolf Duncan

This is probably the most obscure of the poems I’m talking about, as I have only seen it on one website and even that’s unreachable now. For that reason I considered leaving it off the list, because it’s kind of torturous to describe it without you having any real way of finding it, but I’m going to talk about it anyway. This poem is really what drove my love of folk poetry, not so much because it is a folk poem but instead because the language used is so damn good at evoking the feeling of a folk poem. “Tall n’ lean n’ lanky,/ With a fiddle neath his chin…/ The days weren’t quite so cruel/ When he played his violin.” As a violinist and lover of folk poetry, this just calls to me. It has an air of mystique about it which I love, but it’s just such a sweet little verse. I hope it can find it properly again, some day.

Special shout-outs go to the many poems of Leonard Cohen, all of which I love but could not choose a favourite from; the poems of Pablo Neruda, all of which make my heart ache in the best way, and also to any and all of the comedy poems I grew up hearing and loving. That includes the works of Hillaire Belloc, The Kings Breakfast and other assorted works of A.A. Milne, and T.S. Elliot’s Book of Practical Cats. I really do love poetry.

Now, onto books:

The Raven Cycle, by Maggie Stiefvater

This is just the perfect fantasy series for me. Every character seems so genuine and so alive, fitting into this epic of magic and wonder and just plain weirdness. It’s hard to believe that every character in an ensemble cast could be quite so endearing, but it’s one of the reasons this book tops my favourite fantasy list and my favourite Y.A. list. There’s humour, there’s magic, there’s mystery and there’s relationships. I love it.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman

This book is kinda scary. Moreso to adults than children, I think. I first read it the year it was released, in my early teens, and I’ve made it a mission to read it every now and then just to see how differently I interpret it each time. This is one of the few instances I’ve enjoyed a child narrator outside of a childrens’ book. It doesn’t come across as cheesy or dumbed-down, but it’s still appropriately and realistically naive. The magic and surrealist horror elements are very well-handled, and it captures a very genuine feeling of childhood curiosity. This is the kind of book I wish I could write.

Gray, by Pete Wentz (and James Montgomery)

I almost cheated and put this in the poetry section, because the language in this book is so beautifully poetic that it may as well be there. But no, this is a semi-autobiographical novel, a favourite genre of mine, and so I will write about it here. This book is very honest and brutal experience of mental illness and how that impacts your sense of self and relationships with others. It must have made me cry at least twenty times. It hurts, it hurts so hard, but I feel like recommending it anyway because I think it’s a good book for when you want to understand things and understand people. One of the reasons I love it, actually, is that it’s so rare to read something so introspective without it coming across as self-centred, but I came away from this book feeling like I understood Pete Wentz as a person way more than I could from any other media.

Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

Lastly, a book I love for having the best humour and characters I can imagine, is Good Omens. Anyone who knows me outside of the internet knows how much I love this book. If anyone mentions anything even tangentially related to Good Omens or any topics or themes within Good Omens, I will talk about it. For a long time. Until I am situationally and circumstantially forced to stop talking about it. I raved about it enough to convince my best friend to read it and now, now he loves it just as much and we can rant about how good it is together. I would recommend this to anyone, regardless of what you usually read or don’t read, because I guarantee that at least 90% of people will love it.

Anyway, thank you for making it all the way to the end of this, I had a lot of fun writing it and distracting myself from what has otherwise been a downright awful day. Thank you so much for sending me this question, and once again I apologise for going so completely overboard. Thank you

#b replies #rambling again

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blogging-phelddagrif · 7 years

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EDH Deck Tech: Gisa & Geralf

[you can see every deck tech here]

Hello & welcome to this weekly deck tech! This week we’re shambling into EDH for a very spooky deck: Gisa & Geralf.

Since I talked about Merfolk, Goblins, Humans & Elves already, the only major tribe missing was Zombies; while there is some zombie decks floating around in Modern & Standard, they are often subpar and so different from each other that doing a deck tech about them would feel weird. EDH on the other hand is where zombies thrive, where they can roam free and use their full potential. The new addition of Gisa & Geralf with Eldritch Moon just gave zombies the commander they needed & deserved. Let’s jump right into it.

Oh Lord!

Let’s start big and cut straight to the chase: Lords. Zombies have access to plenty of good lords to pump them up & give them really nice utility. Cards like Metallic Mimic, Cemetery Reaper, Undead Warchief, Lord of the Undead, Zombie Master, Death Baron, Mikaeus the Unhallowed, Risen Executioner, Door of Destinies, Coat of Arms, Urza’s Incubator, Obelisk of Urd & Graf Harvest. With those cards your zombies will be bigger, badder & meaner.

Zombie Harvesting

Now that you’ve got some Lords to pump up your nice little decaying buddies, you need more ways to generate as many zombies as possible, as quickly as possible. Zombies are extremely good at overwhelming a board via tokens. You’ve got plenty to choose from, with cards like Diregraf Colossus, Army of the Damned, Ghoulcaller Gisa, Grave Titan, Stitcher Geralf, Noosegraf Mob, Rite of Replication, Undead Alchemist, Liliana’s Reaver, Havengul Runebinder, Kalitas Traitor of Ghet, Empty the Pits, Dark Salvation, Dread Summons, From Under the Floorboards & Moan of the Unhallowed. Just try to swarm your opponent with some 2/2s (that tend to be bigger, but whatever) and unless they have board wipes, there’s not much they can do about it.

Cycling Zombies

A good thing with Black decks is that most of the time if you don’t need something on the spot you can just discard it to get something else & just bring it back later if needed. You have a few nice cards that play with a discard synergy like Crypt Breaker, Forgotten Creation (which I always forget exists...), Ancient Excavation, Geralf’s Masterpiece, Advanced Stitchwing, & Grimoire of the Dead (which can be an amazing game ender); or cards that feed your graveyard straight from the library like Corpse Connoisseur, Entomb, Buried Alive, Geralf’s Mindcrusher, Epiphany at the Drownyard, Fact or Fiction & Forbidden Alchemy. Just fuel your graveyard while getting some card advantage.

Recycling Zombies

Since you’re already fueling your graveyard with zombies from your hand library, why not use the ones on the field as well? Keep the tokens & the lords, get rid of the rest! Or you can also get rid of your tokens, it’s all up to you. You have some great cards that benefit from sacrificing cards; stuff like Grimgrin Corpse-Born, Sidisi Undead Vizier, Corpse Harvester, Corpse Augur, Scourge of Nel Toth, Stronghold Assassin, Nantuko Husk, Carrion Feeder, Eliminate the Competition, Grave Pact & Dictate of Erebos. Just sacrifice those zombies and be rewarded by great value and a lot of pain in your opponent’s eyes.

Bring Out Your Dead

So now that your graveyard is filled with goodies and the board filled with more goodies, what are you going to do? Just bring back the sleeping zombies from your graveyard to join the party! You have so many options (we’ve seen Grimoire of the Dead just a second ago) with cards like Gravecrawler, Prized Amalgam, Relentless Dead, Havengul Lich, Magus of the Will, Yawgmoth’s Will, Geth Lord of the Vault, Gravespawn Sovereign, Phyrexian Delver, Possessed Scaab, Fatestitcher, Sheoldread Whispering One, Gravedigger, Ghoulraiser, Cruel Revival, Victimize, Living Death, Living End, Ever After, Dread Return, Rise from the Dark Realms, Ghoulcaller’s Chant, Dread Slaver, Rise from the Grave, Cemetery Recruitment, Patriarch’s Bidding, Reanimate, Beacon of the Unrest, Nim Deathmantle, Whip of Erebos & Animate Dead. Use your graveyard as another resource! Oh, and try getting some huge zombies while the graveyards are full, like Soulless One, Unbreathing Horde, Liliana’s Elite & Wight of Precinct Six.

Zombie Food

There is no way around it, you need to deal with cards. Every deck needs some removal and this one is no different. Here are some good options to consider: Fleshbag Marauder, Yahenni’s Expertise, Fatal Push, Noxious Ghoul, Custodi Lich, Skinrender, Vengeful Pharaoh, Cyclonic Rift, Sudden Spoiling, Doom Blade, Hero’s Downfall, Decree of Pain, Tragic Slip, Life’s Finale, Damnation, Call to the Grave & Black Sun’s Zenith. To be honest you have access to way more but it’s really up to personal preferences.

Slow Zombies, Fast Mana

Little know fact, black has access to quite a bit of mana acceleration; you just have to know where to look! You can play stuff like any mana rocks, Ashnod’s Altar, Phyrexian Altar, Sol Ring, Cabal Coffers, Nykthos Shrine to Nyx, Phyrexian Tower, Magus of the Coffers, Crypt Ghast & Songs of the Damned. Ramp up and swarm your opponents with zombies!

Vampire Zombies

Weirdly enough, zombies have a tendency to drain life out of your opponents. Odd, yet very reliable win condition! Cards like Lich Lord of Unx, Vengeful Dead, Shepherd of Rot, Geralf’s Messenger, Gempalm Polluter, Raging Dead (not really draining, but it deals quite a chunk of damage), Exsanguinate & Foul-Tongue Shriek. It’s not a lot, but just with a few of these cards you can finish off a game quite easily.

Dawn of the Dead

Now that we’ve seen the pillars of the deck, let’s see how to take this overboard & really make sure that the zombies take control of everything. Obviously Rooftop Storm is pretty much a game ender, but other cards like Liliana the Last Hope, Liliana of the Dark Realms, Liliana Vess & Liliana Heretical Healer are all amazing cards that will help close the game. You have also access to amazing card advantage to really take the game away from people like Phyrexian Arena, Necropotence & Graveborn Muse.

Wrap-Up

That’s it for this week! I hope you guys enjoyed this deck tech as much as I did. If I missed anything let me know. I’ll see you guys next week for a Standard deck tech.

#mtg #magic the gathering #magic: the gathering #magic blog #edh #deck tech #mtg blog

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Lovely (The CS Mixtape) Part 153/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Reader requested future CS drabble where Emma is very pregnant and feeling less than beautiful, but Killian is all compliments and genuine love and sweet gestures. It’s told from Killian’s POV because I get a lot of requests for those and is inspired by the song ‘Lovely’ by Hollyn.

Walking through the front door of his and Emma’s home with enough supplies to get them through a few much-needed days alone, Killian recounted every purchase he’d made at the store on the way back to the house and believed he’d gotten everything they needed.

With Emma’s being pregnant there was a wider array of ‘essentials’ now in the Jones household, all of them ranging in their level of edibleness in Killian’s eyes, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and if Killian had his way he’d be getting the chance to spend the whole weekend with his wife without interruption or imposition. The last thing he wanted was to be unprepared and sacrifice that time together, especially with the baby coming in just a few weeks. Soon enough there’d be far fewer quiet moments in their already busy life, and while they had them Killian intended to soak up every second that he could.

“Wow – is there even anything left at the store?” Henry asked as he moved down the stairwell with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a wry grin on his face. Killian couldn’t blame the lad for the jest either, for he probably made quite a sight with all these parcels in his arms.

“Aye but barely,” Killian informed him and Henry laughed, shaking his head as he came to help unpack without even having been asked. It was a quick task with the both of them working together, and Killian was highly appreciative of the effort on his stepson’s part.

“Well I’d say you were going overboard, but with Mom these days you never know. You know I caught her last night making a peanut butter and nutella sandwich?”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Actually that sounds rather pleasant,” Killian said, knowing that he himself had witnessed much stranger fare in Emma’s meals as of late. This late night snack honestly sounded rather commonplace in comparison to some of the dishes Emma had concocted over the past few months.

“Yeah but then I found out she put cheddar flavored chips and cupcake sprinkles in there too.”

Okay that sounded about right, and by ‘about right’ Killian meant totally revolting and unimaginable to him. But even if the strange mixes made both Killian and Henry a little squeamish, it mattered not to Killian. As long as his wife was happy, he’d be happy too and since this pregnancy hadn’t exactly been the easiest of endeavors, Killian would always favor moments when Emma found satisfaction, even if the means of getting there were rather odd to say the least.

“According to your grandfather that’s to be expected. Snow was the same way, but from the stories I gather it was far worse. He said something about them not having ‘hohos’ or ‘jalapeno poppers’ in the Enchanted Forest, whatever that means.”

Henry nodded as if he too had spoken with David and from Killian’s personal experience he was just glad that his partner in all of this was Emma. Because even if she had been struggling in some regards with mood swings and unexpected flare ups of magic, she was still as strong and as determined as ever. Emma would not let the fact that she was expecting impede her from living her life or protecting the people she loved, and she continued to push forward even when so many others would have had to stop from all the exertion.

It was that courage and tenacity that inspired Killian to rise to the occasion as well. At first when he’d heard about the baby he’d been shocked, delighted to be sure, but also thrown for a loop. He and Emma had only just married two months before, and though both of them had discussed their want for a child together and the chance to grow their family, it was still unexpectedly fast when all was said and done. Undoubtedly it was a blessing, but suddenly there were a whole host of things to learn and ready and prepare for.

Over the first few weeks especially Killian found more and more anxiety creeping in that he would somehow mess this up or not be a proper father to their child. What was a pirate really to know about infant care after all, but through Emma’s assurances and example Killian was able to let go of all of that. Now he had largely given over to a complete and all consuming bliss and at every turn he found himself grateful for this beautiful life Emma had given him instead of worried for things that may or may not happen.

“Just make sure Mom gets a chance to relax,” Henry said when all was said and done with the unpacking. “She can’t keep going going going the way she has been. She deserves a break.”

Henry was certainly right about that, since despite everyone’s insistence, Emma had taken pretty much no time off from the station. She was still working almost completely normal hours, and though Killian had been able to pull her away from the fray of all that work quite a few times, he still wanted a more tangible form of rest and recuperation for Emma. Only then would he feel like he’d really done his duty as her husband and the father of their unborn child.

“Those are my thoughts exactly lad, and not to worry, I’ll make sure your mother wants for nothing all weekend.”

Henry expressed his thanks for that before heading out and over to Regina’s and then Killian was left to himself for a while yet. Emma still had about an hour of work at the station, and in the meantime Killian had plans of his own. He wanted to create an environment that would bring together all of Emma’s favorite things and provide her with that sense of comfort she so rightly deserved. But while he organized the house in a way that would provide that, Killian’s mind wandered to the next chapter he and his wife would be stepping into when the baby finally arrived.

He could picture his future daughter so clearly in his mind already (and he knew that it would be a daughter thanks to Emma’s many visits to the doctors in town). In those imaginings Killian was positive that their little girl would be just like her mother. In looks perhaps she’d share a bit of Killian as well, but in her heart and her spirit he foresaw their little princess being just as fiery and passionate and brave as her Mum. It was simply destined to be that way, and Killian was more than ready for the chance to meet their little one and to protect and love her just as much as he loved his Swan.

Killian’s mind was so consumed with these daydreams and musings about the future, in fact, that he missed the feint whooshing sound that always came when Emma used her magic to appear back at home. It wasn’t until her voice sounded out to him that he realized his wife was with him once more and he felt that sense of rightness return that always filled him when Emma was near.

“I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you can stop smiling right now,” Emma teased and Killian turned immediately to find her with a smile of her own.

His wife was a vision like this, with her hair hanging loose and her eyes shining with love for him, but in the moment when her hand came to cover her baby bump absentmindedly Killian felt all his constant feelings of need and love and want rushing back to the surface. Gods she was perfect, and Killian couldn’t help but trace over every part of her right now trying to commit this moment to memory. He had lived a very long life to be sure, but at no point in time had he ever known moments more precious than those shared with Emma, and he would be damned before he ever let them go.

“That’s a bet I could not win, my love.”

“I know,” Emma quipped as she started to take off her jacket and Killian immediately came over to assist, loving the feeling when Emma handed over the reins to him, allowing him to help her as he so truly wanted to. “It would have been easy money.”

Killian agreed that it would have been before asking Emma about her day and only then did he watch her smile fracture slightly. His Swan let out a deep sigh, as if she’d been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, but Killian knew she was really carrying something so much more precious. Their child would be the brightest spot in any realm save for perhaps her mother, and Emma was doing them both the greatest serving in keeping her safe and cared for now.

“Well aside from me feeling like a beached whale all day it was fine. I’m just so… huge, and I’m not really loving it.”

Even as she said the words and made her confession of dislike for this current state as she waddled into the kitchen, Killian knew that there never came an instant when Emma resented being pregnant. Because as inconvenient as this larger belly and the swollen ankles and the sudden mood swings might be, they would all be worth it in the end. In just under a month their little girl would be here, and though that would bring with it new trials (like sleepless nights, and anxieties about doing their absolute best for their daughter) it would also be the start of an amazing new chapter.

“You might not feel as you once did, Emma, but I can safely say you’ve never been more beautiful to me,” Killian whispered as he came to stand behind her at the kitchen counter.

He watched then as his wife closed her eyes, and her breathing began to even out once more. She could feel that he meant the words but Killian doubted that she’d ever truly know just how much he meant them. So he tried to make her see, whispering words of praise and love as he pressed kisses to her neck and then her cheek.

“You have to say all of that,” Emma replied as a small smile came to play at her lips. “You’re the one who did this to me.”

Killian couldn’t help the growl that sprung from his chest at Emma’s teasing accusation. He most certainly had been the one to do this to her, and he was bloody proud of it too. There was nothing he cherished more than being her husband and the man that she’d chosen, and having a child with her, bringing more life into this world that they were creating for themselves, was his surest pleasure.

“As I recall this was a mutual decision love, and you were most certainly involved in the getting here, or have you forgotten that part?”

Killian purposefully laced his voice with that hint of seduction that always worked on Emma and he felt her shiver at the question. Before she could respond though, he moved his hand and hook over her hips, distracting her with sensations that he knew would be her undoing. Emma had always been passionate, but since getting pregnant that need had only grown more and Killian was all too happy to sate that hunger his wife had. In fact, it was his hope that much of this weekend would be spent doing exactly that.

“How could I? Here I was thinking I’d be the insatiable one with all these hormones, but you’re just as bad.”

Killian chuckled at Emma’s response but damn he loved her honesty. There was no hiding from her feelings or her desires. They’d left all hiding at the door the minute she walked down that aisle to him and they’d made their vows to always love and fight for one another. There were no more walls our boundaries between them, only the resolute fact that they were a team and that they belonged together always.

“What can I say, love? When you’re right, you’re right.”

Emma’s hand came to cover his then, her thumb rubbing over his coarser skin in gentle strokes as she edged back against him a little more, her body coming flush with his in a tantalizing way. And then she flicked a glance over her shoulder at him and gave way to more flirtations that Killian simply couldn’t resist.

“Hmm. You know women love hearing that they’re right. It’s quite an aphrodisiac.”

Killian’s immediate reaction was to think of all the other ways he had to ignite that fire for his lovely wife. Time had been the greatest teacher in all things that could give his Emma pleasure, and these past few months had been filled with Killian stealing chances to do just that. At times they’d even been a little reckless in their interludes, not only consummating their happiness in the house but at the station, in the bug, and even one time at the back of Granny’s. Just the thought of all those interactions had Killian’s heart pounding louder in his chest and his hand running up along her curves, purposefully eliciting another shiver from her, and her candid response teased him just as badly as he was teasing her now.

“Forgive me Swan, but I don’t give a damn what women love. The only one I care about is you.”

“And this is why I love you,” Emma whispered sweetly, turning around to face him and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that Killian was more than happy to accept.

“Now, any thoughts on how we should start our weekend away from the rest of the world?” Killian asked and Emma smiled, beaming up at him with a look that Killian would never feel worthy of, but treasure all the days of his life. Gods was he a lucky man, and he’d never be fool enough to forget that fact as long as he lived.

“I have a few,” Emma countered, and then with a flick of her wrist and a puff of white magic she transported them upstairs to their bedroom to initiate a weekend filled with pleasure and comfort that both Emma and Killian thoroughly enjoyed.

…………..

They say picture perfect, filter do your thing They floating lies, make this young girl doubt what she think Not showing enough, not sexy enough, no way Too dark, too light for us, nah, that look ain’t gon’ play

Words are bouncin' 'round my head I can’t stop their echoing Trippin’ on that negative

But You call me lovely You say I’m wonderfully made Your river floods me Your Words feel like a serenade

I love that You are thinkin’ of me All of those voices fade away When You call me lovely Lo-o-ovely

Lovely, You call me lovely You call me lovely And I’ma soak in it And I’ma soak in it And I’ma soak in it

No I ain’t even gonna fake it Don’t wanna leave without no make-up This ain’t made up When I ain’t made up

Always wonderin’ what they thinkin’ So afraid of what they sayin’ When I ain’t fixed up Got me mixed up, no-no

Words are bouncin’ 'round my head I can’t stop their echoing (echoing) Trippin’ on that negative

But You call me lovely You say I’m wonderfully made Your river floods me Your Words feel like a serenade

I love that You are thinkin’ of me All of those voices fade away When You call me lovely, (hey!) Lo-o-ovely

And I’ma soak in it (soak in it) And I’ma soak in it (soak in it) And I’ma soak in it (soak in it)

The way You love me The way You know me The way You always got the time for me I’ma soak in it I’ma soak in it

The way You see me The way You keep me And I know that I don’t make it easy I’ma soak in it (I'ma soak in it) I’ma soak in it (I'ma soak in it, soak in it; hey!)

Oh-oh-oh-ohh I’ma soak in it (I'ma soak in it) I’ma soak in it (I'ma soak in it)

And You call me lovely You say I’m wonderfully made Your river floods me (oh, Your river floods me) Your Words feel like a serenade

I love that You are thinkin’ of me (thinkin’ of me) All of those voices fade away When You call me lovely, hey! (You call me, You call me) Lo-o-ovely

You call me lovely Lo-o-ovely You call me lovely Lo-o-ovely ...

Post-Note: I think it’s safe to say that I will never get sick of writing fluffy drabbles where Emma and Killian get to live their happy ending, and I want to thank not only the reader who requested this, but all my lovely readers who send in prompts for enabling me to continue doing that. It’s always so fun to just forget the real world for a spell and write something like this, and I appreciate the fact that so many of you are so lovely and supportive and here on the journey with me. Anyway, I am still chipping away through the hoards of prompts I have for this series, and I am hoping to do them all justice though the process is pretty slow. Just know they will get done eventually and in the meantime I am wishing you all a lovely day and a great rest of your week!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138, Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151, Part 152

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs oneshot #cs drabble #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #the captain swan mixtape #captain swan mixtape fic #lovely #pregnant emma #married cs #cs future fic

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duckzillainspo · 4 years

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Discord thread featuring: Ryleigh and Bear

Where: Ryleigh’s (Aiden’s) Apartment

When: Friday

Description: Ryleigh cooks dinner for Bear, they enjoy some food, some conversation, a little smutty times.

Trigger Warnings: Smut.

Part 1

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